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TIMING: Current LOCATION: Vicker's Beach SUMMARY: Night 1 of the Wicked's Rest Bondfire is here, and while it's debatable whether everyone had a good time, everyone did have a time. Feel free to take home some leftover food and goodies! NOTE: Please be sure to reblog this thread if your character is in it, and we will count it as a thread for the next Activity Check.

There were a lot of shrimp splashing in the tide today, weren’t there? Ah, memories. OLD JONATHAN smiled fondly at the swarming crustaceans as the team of volunteers finished setting everything up. The craft tables were ready, the fire was crackling now, and the setting sun painted purple all of the sails sticking up from the harbor. Another Summer was set to conclude and night 1 of the customary Bondfire was ready. He admired the work, the whole beach stretched around them. Just like the boats pulling in to dock for the evening and the shrimp now forming those sweet little compact shrimp balls (those memories), townsfolk were now gathering to be together. Already, several food items and activities were being brought for everyone to enjoy, and the fire dancer had quietly – very quietly – arrived.

“Alrighty folks,” OLD JONATHAN waved a hand at the team, “Let’s leave ‘em to it. It’s getting past this old man’s bedtime.” Jonathan chuckled, but before departing, he plucked up one of the shrimp and dropped the squirming critter right down his gullet, thinking nothing of it. “See everyone tomorrow, same time, same place. Maybe we’ll be able to save on some materials, eh?” You never knew in this town. Something could kill everyone here before the fire even went out. Groceries are expensive these days. They could really save on graham crackers and marshmallows.

This wasn’t his typical scene. EMILIO wasn’t a particularly social man. There were only a handful of people he hung out with intentionally, and it was due to a few of those people that he was here tonight. Plenty of them could use a break, and apparently a bonfire was a good way to offer something like that. And while food and conversation weren’t exactly things Emilio was known to enjoy… he did like fire. Fire was all right.

Taking an idle swig from his flask, EMILIO inspected the table in front of him. There were a lot of food options to pick through, though he did so with only a faint interest. He probably wouldn’t eat most of it, but people looked at you strangely if you weren’t at least holding a plate at these things. Squinting at the table, he made a face. “That’s a lot of cheese,” he commented to no one in particular.

The dead fish sloshed and squelched around beautifully in the bag as REGAN trudged through the sand. Katy Perry had nothing on a bag of dead fish, but they still weren't half as beautiful as her bone partner. She shot Jade an easy smile, and pointed to where smoke hazed through the colorful sky in a pillar up ahead. "Why didn't we think of logs to sit on, hm? Just Couches really should have carried those. Or maybe we missed them. I think you were distracted." Only Jade. Looking more closely at the crowd, there were a few people she knew there, which... was that better, or worse? It seemed like Emilio was one of them. Worse, then. She had come because Jade was excited, even after learning this was not a bonefire to venerate bones (dead), but a bonfire, to make s'mores (not at all dead).

"Oh! Over here!" REGAN found the perfect spot. She tilted the bag and the dead fish slid out in a smooth, slimy glide, making a pile on the sand. The scent tangled with the fire. "And look, they even have a table for your cheese. People better appreciate those labels and toothpicks. You worked so hard on choosing suitable colors." Regan stood proudly over the fish. In her eyes, cheese was best enjoyed in the presence of decomposing fish. People would surely flock over like sea gulls, except not actual gulls, because she wasn't letting them get her fish.

It had taken some hyping up beforehand on CHARLIE’S part to get him to come out to the bonfire without Finn attached to his side. But this wasn’t at all Finn’s scene. It was his nightmare, actually. So that’s why Charlie decided to go at it alone. He’d brought some speakers to play some music in the background, give this bonfire an actual chance at being a good time, and nothing was a good time without music, in his opinion. So he set up his speakers on a table and allowed anyone to be able to connect to the speakers to play whatever they pleased.

Making his way over to the large fire, CHARLIE crossed his arms over his chest and stared into it for a moment before backing away, looking over to the things that everyone had brought. “God, what’s that fucking smell?” He complained, covering his nose with a displeased expression. Then, he saw it. Rotting fucking fish. “You’re kidding, what?” He said to no one in particular. “Dead fish, really?” He spoke to the pale woman with an incredulous expression on his face.

Something about fire was so inviting. Maybe a callback to the days when this was all humanity was, people bonding over shared food, warmth, and light. A dispelling of the darkness and illumination of what community could mean. TEDDY often felt othered. From their childhood, pulled from one family, sacrificed to a demon, turned into a demon, growing up a demon around humans and never quite bonding with the other kids, to this strange amalgamation of human but not entirely, of part of something, but still on the outskirts.

Tonight things felt different. Together. Whole. Like the pieces finally fit, and not just because they were snuggled up next to Emilio, with an arm looped around his waist as he contemplated various fermented milks. “Don’t know if I’ve ever seen that many in one place that wasn’t a cheese store.”

The prospect of the speakers was a fun little addition. One TEDDY immediately hopped on, queuing up some generally pleasant jams then throwing in one total vibe changer (but still a banger) every once in a while.

METZLI hated social gatherings just as much as they hated small talk. The very thought made them shiver, but they sat down anyway. Leila had convinced them to venture out and do something other than lay in bed. So they settled in, sulking past the fire as it reminded them of a certain little ember that had been blown out.

"Cheese. Yeah. Cheese." They nodded idly in their seat, taking note of a few familiar faces as they contemplated how to continue their amazing contribution to the conversation. "Um..." They licked their lips and added, "It tastes like...cheese. Probably."

VIC would definitely not go to such a ridiculous event if it wasn’t for Rosie, who loved the town and to watch people in it. It simply would have been cruel to keep the poor child from the endeavor, even if attending it was practically torturous for VIC. Or… at least, that was the story she was planning on telling, if anyone asked why she was there. In truth, she was sort of rather excited to attend- watching the townspeople and seeing what they were up to had become quite fascinating. It must have been because she couldn’t wait to find what they were doing wrong.

VIC had spent the night preparing two comically large sized dishes of potatoes au gratin, a delicacy if you asked her, and found a spot for them immediately when she arrived. She was glad she brought plates and cutlery too, because someone had apparently thought it appropriate to dole out paper plates and plasticware. In 2024? Preposterous. It wasn’t long before she and Rosie found the craft table, where the toddler had taken to painting rocks and VIC was currently making a wide array of bracelets- both for friendship and criticism.

They should've invented a new word for the kind of excited JADE was. It was like her body was charging UP with extra energy the closer they got to the people gathered around the bonfire. (Not in a energy vampire kinda way, okay? Just... in an extrovert way). It was hard to ignore the scent of dead fish by her side, but one look at Regan's content smile shut down like, all her smell receptors. Gone. She didn't care how stinky they were between the both of them (Fish and cheese? Yup, it was a little much, but), cause they were doing this together. And! Cause she could spot a few familiar faces already. She couldn't wait to go pester Emilio and hang out with Teddy. Just like... oh. Oop. Metzli and their boo were here too. And that woman from the park who banged her sister? Penny, was it? Yikes. Things might get a little awks depending on who else showed up. (But like, that potato dish looked all kinds of amazing, truth be told).

She kept a big smile on her face, cause everybody was here to have a good time, including herself. She'd even brought her delicious cheese to the bonfire, knowing it would be a crowd pleaser. JADE set up her little arrangement of cheese cubes, watching as Regan let the dead fish free, not unlike a little kid drops their toys on the sand. (Maybe one day, someone would make a bonefire happen too). "I don't mind if people don't vibe with my labels, as long as they're gone by the end of the night, I'll be happy. I mean... cheese! Who doesn't love it?" she shrugged, noticing a few curious folks already approaching the table. She waved at the strangers, then turned to Regan. Was she planning on looking after the dead fish all night? "Should we make the rounds and say hi? We have manners, don't we?"

LEVI knew there were far better things to bring to a pot-luck style get together than century eggs, but it would be a fun little activity watching people eat them, confused, and then realize what was in their mouth. On the other hand, it had a container full of bacon-wrapped asparagus, grilled to perfection. The actual tasty treat among the two, unless you had the palette of a three year old who refused to eat asparagus.

Leaving its offerings on the provided tables, LEVI didn’t waste much time in dropping eaves on the conversations of others, figuring where there were people, there was work. For now, it would stand back and listen (and keep an eye on the eggs for a laugh or two), and if it heard something interesting, it might engage that individual to dig a little deeper.

There was a stink that was currently permeating VIC’s nostrils so strongly that she had the urge to scoop Rosie up and shield her from such an offense. As she looked to where it was coming from, the sight was probably worse than the smell. “Baby Bloodworth and the Irish bone partner”, she muttered under her breath. Louder, she called to them. “I think you two got the wrong idea. The dumpster fire was last week. This one is about community.” Rummaging through the bracelets she’d made, she handed one each to the women. To Jade, a bracelet that said ‘societal menace’, and to Regan, one that simply said ‘stinky’. She wondered if they’d like them.

At least Teddy was nearby. EMILIO felt a little more secure with their arm looped around his waist, even if he was facing down impossibly unfamiliar things, like a table full of cheese and people making bracelets. (What were the bracelets for?) “There’s a cheese store?” He turned to Teddy with a furrowed brow, glancing over to Metzli as they spoke. “I don’t think it’s supposed to all taste the same.” Was it? Fuck if he knew.

METZLI shrugged at Teddy's comment, and shook their head while a foul scent overtook their senses. The pungent smell of fish became overwhelming for Metzli. It didn't mix well with the cheese, coating the inside of their nose with the horrible concoction. Sighing, they made their way to the crafting table and gazed at the assortment before organizing a few sets of beads in front of them to start their project.

While the debate on cheese was thrilling, TEDDY’S proverbial dog ears pricked up as someone mentioned Jade’s last name. At first it was excitement, hooray! Jade is here!! They could annoy Emilio with their friendship IRL. Perfect, except it was being called by some exceptionally snippy stranger. Teds frowned, which then immediately grew into a devilish grin. “Let’s go say hi.”

OH! Penny was approaching them, that was so interesting. Maybe she wasn't so scared of JADE after all. Wasn't that nice? Maybe now, with her D as limp as it was, (keeping "innocent until proven guilty" in her mind the way Van wanted it), she would be able to have a fine, civil conversation with the other woman. In reality, Penny had approached to complain, what a hater. "Nothing says community like cheese!" she forced a smile, turning to the pile of fish. "And um... dead fish. Something about... consumerism." A think piece if there ever was one! She reached for the bracelet, carefully reading what it said. "Aw, you made one specially for me. That's so sweet of ya!"

Finding the smell of the fish a tad too overwhelming to handle, CHARLIE waved a hand as if it would make the smell go away, and made his way back over to the fire. The snacks were tainted, as far as he was concerned, seeing as the smell of rotting fish far overwhelmed anything else going on. He smiled as someone began playing music on the speakers, glad that he had brought them along. He took a deep breath of the fresh air (away from the rotting fish) and closed his eyes, deciding to let himself relax for once.

This had all sounded a bit too wholesome for KIERAN'S taste but once an event reached a certain size, the faun would be amiss not to show up and see if it was worth his time. The sand part of this also wasn't enticing for someone whose cheapest pair of shoes retailed for around 300 dollars but it was a sacrifice he was willing to make rather than chance missing out on the possibility of a new kind of fun. He faintly remembered the encouragement to bring something for sharing as he arrived (fashionably late, as per usual) and noticed the spread of various food and... other things? Whatever, bringing himself felt like plenty, attention moving from the table to the people milling around, a few familiar faces clicking. Kieran knew he had probably run into more of them but his interest in memorizing faces was notoriously bad. It was hard to forget someone who had popped up at your place of work to beat the shit out of you, and even with a drastic change in hairstyle, Charlie was easily spotted as well. Deciding to avoid both of them, Kieran settled close to the mostly empty craft table (really? crafts?) where a quiet and one armed stranger was poking at the beads.

Metzli took off, and Teddy was zeroed in on Jade. EMILIO sighed, eyeing his friend — and her ‘bone partner,’ and her bone partner’s dead fish, and… the woman he’d done some arson with at the Good Keep — and tried to decide if there was any feasible way to get out of conversation. It wasn’t as if he didn’t enjoy all those people individually (to an extent; he didn’t know Vic well enough to have a solid opinion beyond ‘didn’t get me killed’), but all of them together were a bit much. Teddy wanted to say hi, though, and Emilio wanted Teddy to have a good time, so he relented. “Sure,” he agreed, “but can we try to get them away from the fucking fish? Smells like shit.” He could barely smell it; smell had never been his strongest sense. It was more the principle of the thing.

Oh, her fish were getting so much attention. This was going better than REGAN had dared hope. The humans were even keeping a respectful distance while observing. There was only one dissenter, a man who seemed to think she was kidding about something. “I do not kid,” Regan said with crossed arms. She wasn’t a child either, for that matter. “It doesn’t look like you brought anything worthwhile, so you’re in no place to judge what I’m honoring today.” Those cookies looked pretty good, though. Regan gave Jade a questioning look. “I don’t have patients. There are no rounds to make. But if you’d like to say hi to Emilio, Teddy, and – wait a second, is that Chuck?” Before she could explain that Chuck was from the mayo mobile, a snippy woman who seemed to know Jade approached and handed them each, uh, bracelets. Regan didn’t examine hers but accepted it. The woman’s implication was not lost on Regan. “Then why are you here? You seem like you would be right at home in a dumpster fire. Awful smell, isn’t it? Burning trash?” So unlike her fish.

Seeing that a few of their friends were there, METZLI sorted out the letter beads to make a few bracelets for people. A small smile ticked up the corner of their lips as they spelled out 'death' for Regan, 'knifes' for Emilio, and 'loser' for Jade. When they tied the ends to secure the bracelets, Metzli rose from the table and handed them out accordingly.

“Oh yes, that one was made especially for you”, VIC agreed, pleased that Jade was finally getting the picture. Rosie liked the idea that she and mommy were giving people gifts, and she quickly joined VIC over where she was, her hands gripping two rocks she’d just finished. Shyly, she handed one each to Regan and the nice lady from the park, still wet with a mess of colors, as were her hands. Overwhelmed by the sweetness, VIC picked her up, ignoring the mess of paint now staining her shirt. “If you’re implying that I am the stinky one, you are sadly mistaken, ma’am.” It was important for Rosie to witness good manners, even when scolding someone. “I am very clean, so my scent is only offensive to people unaware of cleanliness.”

“Maybe you just don’t have any taste, the good doc brought us all a bountiful feast.” TEDDY stepped in, not that Regan or Jade or really anyone here needed defending, but there was a chord of chaos they sensed, unplucked. Ripe and ready for the setting. Just needed to put the pieces in order.

Opening his eyes, CHARLIE looked around, and his eyes stopped when he saw the familiar figure of Kieran over by the craft table. Fuck, really? Well, he could certainly leave, no one was talking to him, so who would miss him? Except... he couldn't get himself to leave after just getting there, something about a crisp 'I told you so' from Finn upon his arrival home was too much to handle. So instead, he took a deep breath and walked over to Kieran, a tight smile on face. "Crafting?" He asked in an amused tone.

"But still, it's good to know who everybody is. Show off your conversational intercoursing skills" JADE pointed out, noticing Emilio and Teddy approaching. She waved even bigger, in case they didn't see her. And... Regan knew someone named Chuck! Nobody named Chuck could be a bad vibe, right? That was like top, chill name. Not as chill? Regan and Penny having a Karen off. Jade tapped Regan's wrist, hoping to have some effect on her. "It's fine, she can have bad taste. Variety is the spice of life or something," she put on her bracelet proudly, then looked at the paper plates. Nice! Environment friendly and all. And when little Sammy came over and handed her a rock, she beamed at her too. Kids had good taste always. "Why don't we grab some of those nice potatoes? Food makes everybody happy!" She would even make a plate for Emilio and Teddy too, who had just come around.

Just as METZLI approached Jade to give her her bracelet, they saw a child hand her a rock. It reminded painfully of Cass. They stopped in their tracks and let out a shaky sigh, somehow managing to force themself to close the distance. "Here," Metzli hissed, shoving the bracelet in Jade's hand and walking away to sit by the fire. They should've stayed home.

The woman from the Keep — Vic? He thought her name might’ve been Vic — seemed to have some kind of problem with Jade and Regan, and EMILIO wondered if it was fish-related. The big, stinky dead fish was probably a good reason to be annoyed with someone. But, really, Emilio was more focused on the kid Vic was holding. He hadn’t known she had a kid. His expression softened a little, and he offered the little girl a small wave before Teddy grabbed his attention again. “A feast? Babe, that’s a dead fish.” A very dead fish. That smelled. He glanced around the party absently as the conversation moved forward, making notes of everyone he saw. He bristled at the sight of Kieran, tensing a little. Levi was… doing whatever it was Levi always did. Metzli was making bracelets. Did Metzli understand the bracelets? Could they explain it, maybe? He thought of asking them as they approached, but they disappeared again in an instant. “Maybe we burn something?” He suggested, looking between everyone. “Is that what we do here?”

Taking note of the people was at least worth the trip, noticing the outliers and trying to determine them as social outcasts or watchers, like himself or grimacing at the cutesy couples. It seemed the hunter hadn't been lying about being taken, even if the person sharing his space looked nothing like what KIERAN would have expected. His musing was cut off by an approaching figure, easy smile settling on his face in sharp contrast to Charlie's tight one. "Since I'm not a child, no. You're all by your lonesome?" Noticing the child with some very wet paint on her hands, Kieran made a mental note to steer clear.

CHARLIE hummed in response to Kieran's question, and nodded his head. "Yeah, couldn't convince my boyfriend to join. He's a bit of a shut-in." He explained with a shrug of his shoulder, not thinking too much of it. Charlie watched the group of people conversing by the dead fish, and smirked. "I'm a party person, so I decided to check it out." He wrinkled his nose as he looked over at the dead fish. "Though this is the weirdest fucking party I've ever been to, I'm gonna be honest." He sucked on his teeth, looking about. "Not that I'm... surprised."

As Metzli approached, REGAN was surprised. Because... well, she didn't feel Metzli. What? How? She gave them a perplexed look, which was just an added layer of confusion to their last in-person interaction at Leila's (ex) store. "For me? You can look at the fish from up close in exchange. But why is everyone giving me bracelets? These are for children, aren't they?" Regan frowned at the one the first lady handed her (stinky?), then defiantly rolled the nitrile gloves off her hands. They were slick with dead fish juices. She offered the bracelet to the child. "You're not a fragrant child, but maybe you can give this to someone truly stinky. Your mother gave it to me by mistake, I think." Regan shot a cool glance at the woman. "I, too, am exceptionally clean. Aseptic technique is a hobby of mine, actually." Oh, good, Teddy agreed. "Isn't that right? There has never been a cleaner doctor." A look at Metzli's bracelet now. "This one is better. Not only because of what it says, but the craftsmanship."

Watching was interesting. There was already a lot of people that seemed to be... agitated by one another's presence. Fascinating. Keeping mental tabs, CHUCK made his rounds, letting himself get caught up in some small talk there, some discussion about the smell there... and eventually landed on hovering by the fire itself, a roasting rod in hand with a weenie stuck to the end of it. He had an unusual love for things in miniature, and these tiny weenies were no exception. Slowly, he began to stick weenie after weenie onto the thin metal rod, glancing up to catch Teddy's eye and waving the stick excitedly. "Tiny food!" He called over to them and the gathering of people they were standing with, delighted.

PEDRO was at his most comfortable when he was in the middle of the natural world, or with a guitar. He’d come with the latter strapped to his back, and with some chips and drinks because he was not exactly good at cooking. Hey, a guy couldn’t do everything!

He also had to resist the urge to fill up the speakers with a list of pop classics, although PEDRO did let himself put a few in the list. Having deposited his chips and drinks somewhere he couldn’t be really mocked for his lack of effort, he decided to stay away from the dead fish (what the hell?) and gravitate towards the cheese. “You can’t go too far wrong with cheese, for sure.” Or so he hoped.

“Babe, all fish you eat is dead.” They had eaten some live fish, but that was mostly when they were all kaiju-ey. TEDDY grinned, plucking a similarly dead fishy off the table and dangling it dangerously close to their face. Surrounded by familiar folks, emboldened by weeks of staying inside; Teds shot off a wink towards their dad and its miniature treats, and downed the fish in one long slurp.

Never one to show up on time to anything, especially when socializing was involved, ALISTAIR walked up toward the group of people with Tommy guiding them over to the snack table, a giant smile on the child's face as he immediately loaded up his plate with potatoes that Vic brought. Once abandoned by their son, Alistair gripped onto Brutus's leash a little tighter, finding themselves stranded by the table of people talking about dead fish. "Is that what that smell is?" They asked, brows furrowing together. Alistair looked through Brutus's eyes in time to see Teddy slurp a dead fish. "Oh, gods no."

She didn't get a chance to see what Regan's bracelet said before she gave it to little Sammy. She smiled softly at their interaction. And...WOW. Another bracelet? Metzli really didn't have to bother, especially with everything they'd gone through recently. But JADE appreciated it, the time and effort. So she like, nodded politely when it was shoved into her hand, putting it on switfly. ('Loser?' The fact that she had two bracelets already would disagree). JADE gave her a small 'hey' of acknowledgement (in the honor of community!) and that was it, Metzli was off. She wondered how they were doing after Cass, but not cause she cared. She was just nosy. By her side, Regan explained that she was the cleanest doctor (not-doctor) in the world, and she hummed her approval, grabbing a paper plate and serving a portion of that potato dish she kept eyeing. She placed the cheese cubes on top. Cheese and potatoes, top notch convo. "Who wants food?" She offered the plate until it was taken off her hands.

Oh, this was fun. Rosie hadn’t realized just how many gifts there would be at this beach party. She slid down Vic with the bracelet that was handed to her, excited to find someone new to give it to. As Rosie trotted over to the person sitting along by the fire, who looked very sad, VIC looked over at the person who stepped in on behalf of the smelly couple in front of her. “Dead fish is hardly a bounty. Have you tried my potatoes au gratin? I think you’ll find they’re flavored to perfection!” As she spoke, she scooped up a serving for them on one of her plates, handing it over with a smile. Rosie, for her part, handed the bracelet that Regan had given her to the sad person by the fire with a smile, because presents and hugs always made everything better.

Alright, so seemed the people he knew here were a hunter and a rockstar who had settled down with a shut in. "If this is the weirdest thing you've been to, your bar is set very low," KIERAN mused, his attention already moving from Charlie in search for some more interesting company - the people arguing over bracelets, the burly man excitedly holding up a stick chock full of food or the person that had just slurped down a raw fish whole. "Although this isn't really a good kind of weird so far..." Oh, and someone had shown up with an acoustic guitar. Perfect.

The fire glowed a haze of orange on the vampire’s face, each feature's shadows altering with each flicker of the flame. METZLI could feel the tears burning at the corner of their eyes, but they were interrupted by a random child they didn't know. A little girl, innocent and kind. "Leave me--" Metzli paused, shoulders sinking as they noticed the bracelet she was handing them. They smiled softly, taking the gift with teary eyes. "Thank you." They whispered, holding it to their chest. "Do you want to swing on my arm?"

There were far too many people from the keep incident here and VIC felt filled with equal parts dread and relief at seeing them. Must have been something about a trauma bond? Every time she caught one of their eyes, she nodded in solidarity. Jade, the known murderer and proud societal menace, seemed to be trying to… keep the peace? VIC watched her with fascination and wonder, wondering when the facade would be dropped. Devilishly, she smirked as she scooped some potatoes. “Are you enjoying my cooking, Jade?” Over by the fire, Rosie took a moment to respond, the shyness of childhood and being away from her mother taking over. She chose to nod, instead, at the person’s idea of swinging, grabbing their arm excitedly. From her position, VIC watched cautiously, ready to pounce if even one hair fell out of place on her daughter.

They put on the bracelet and jingled it around their wrist, hoping to coax a small giggle as they stood. The girl could not be no more than a few years old, and METZLI found themself yearning to fill the void in their chest, if only for a few moments. "Okay," They chuckled, extending their arm and raising it when the little girl had a grip on it. She was a light thing, easily going up and down with each raise of Metzli's arm. "What is your name, hermosita?"

DAIYU was unfashionably late, if only because she had a poor sense of fashion. She hadn't been out a lot since her whole spat with lavagirl, but she figured that a bonfire was a great outing when recovering from burns. Even better, there'd be free food. Swinging her sandcastle contest prize (a bucket and pail) in one hand and a greasy bag filled with chicken nuggets in another, she deposited the latter at the snack table. A singular nugget was fished out and thrown towards Brutus. "Sup Tommy and all others," she said, still finding Alistair's new body strange and discomforting, "Pedro, are you gonna play Wonderwall?"

After Kieran seemed to lose interest on CHARLIE, the rockstar hummed and walked away, feeling that he'd exhausted himself with that man for long enough. He walked over to sit beside Pedro, a grin on his face at the presence of someone with a guitar. "A musician, huh? Glad to fuckin' see it, what can you play?" He asked, plopping himself on the log beside the other.

A loud, hedonistic sluuuurp caught REGAN'S attention. Of course it came from Teddy. And honestly, the sound wasn't half-bad. "Careful not to choke, hm? Are you here with Emilio?" She knew the answer. He was standing right there. But she was being a little rude because she had paid Emilio $75 today, like always, but still hadn't received her daily affirmations. Also, people really seemed to be enjoying the cheese platter; Jade must have been thrilled. One man in particular was hovering over it, making a careful selection. Regan gave Pedro a small wave in acknowledgement that it was so much harder to choose something than to not. "Are you asking me to try your potatoes because I'm Irish?" She thought about it for a second, looked at Jade, and -- alright, she was digging in already. "I'll try some if you think it'll get her off my figurative back. Do you know this lady? I don't stink." A little more defensive, muttering. "Maybe she does. I can't smell her properly while we're so close to the dead fish."

Immediately, EMILIO wanted to insist that he didn’t eat fish at all, but he doubted Teddy would let that stand. They’d say they’d fed him fish before, and call back to specific instances, and that was hard to argue with. So, instead, the slayer crossed his arms over his chest. “Not fish like that,” he replied stubbornly, making a face as Teddy picked up a (thankfully less stinky) fish off the table to slurp it down. “I’m not going to kiss you later,” he said, though they both knew it was a lie. Levi was slurping down meats with a similar vigor, and Emilio wondered how he’d wound up here. He sighed as Alistair, too, joined the party. Wasn’t that exactly what the evening needed? Someone else who annoyed him and was annoyed by him in return? Fucking Christ. Eyeing Daiyu, he shifted towards her slightly. “Oh, I thought you were dead,” he greeted her. He pretended the thing tugging at his chest at the sight of the cast on her arm.

DAIYU glanced at Regan, "It is nice to meet you I R L, old doctor lady. Jade talks highly of you." She would extend her hand, but she was still holding the pail and shovel. An annoyed look was sent to Emilio. "I would be haunting you if this was true. Boo. Etcetera."

Tommy whisked his head around to Daiyu's voice, throwing up a hand and waving. "Hey, Daiyu!" He greeted happily, before his eyes locked onto Daiyu's cast. "Can I draw on it?" He asked, eyes alight with excitement. ALISTAIR sighed dramatically as Brutus seemed to be eating something out of the sand. "Daiyu, did you just feed my dog?" They asked with a look of disappointment. Tommy was busy jogging over to Daiyu and looking at the red cast, seeing the perfect canvas.

Her cast was not signed besides Jade's glorious work and DAIYU was secretly kind of sad about it. Just like she was sad about not having found a way to take it off herself. "Fuck yeah you can, Tom-Tom! I just don't have any markers or whatever, but someone's gotta around here." Her head angled towards Alisander. "Nope. I would never."

This must have been Daiyu, Jade's friend. REGAN studied the short woman for a moment, her eyes spending too long over an injured arm wrapped in a red cement block of a cast. "Eye are el? Yes. Hello. You can call me Regan, because that is my name. Though old doctor lady is also acceptable." She seemed to know Emilio too, which made Regan wonder if she was another slayer. "She likes you, too. So I'm pleased you could be here today, despite your obvious injuries. The fish may provide comfort. I've learned that's important for you..." Humans. "...beach... goers." Regan shook her head. that wasn't so awkward, right? "Brutus." Her eyes widened at Daiyu as she spotted the talented canine nearby. "I know that dog."

“You wouldn’t even be a scary ghost,” EMILIO scoffed, rolling his eyes. There was a quiet pang at the sight of the kid he assumed was Alistair’s son. He took his flask from his pocket, taking a long swig and turning his attention to the adults instead. Or… Kavanagh. Whatever she counted as. She’d given him his daily seventy-five bucks — a portion of which had promptly been spent on the whiskey filling his flask — so he owed her a statement. Was it acceptable to say it here, at the party? In front of people? She might like that. “You’re looking human,” he told her flatly. “Bringing dead fish is normal.” He’d give her that one for free.

REGAN'S eyes lit up as Emilio finally said what she was paying him to say. She looked around, optimistic that many others would hear and agree, because humans were like that with group think. "Yes. I am. I know. Aren't I?" She looked around for supportive nods. "I thought someone else might have also wished to bring dead fish, which would have been embarrassing, but then I decided, can there really be too many?"

ALISTAIR frowned as Daiyu denied the allegations, then shook their head as a familiar voice called out Brutus's name. "Oh, Regan, right? Brutus, your howling friend is here." They spoke to their dog with a conspiratorial nod of their head. Tommy pulled out some markers from his pocket with a grin. "I'm always prepared to draw!" He declared, then began to draw a rather good drawing (for a 12-year-old) of Brutus onto Daiyu's cast, then signed his name below it. "There! Now it's cool!" Tommy spoke happily, looking up at Daiyu with that same grin on his face.

It didn't take long for Charlie to pick up on the lack of interest and KIERAN watched him head over to the man who hopefully knew how to play that guitar strapped on his back. The faun prized himself on being able to turn almost any situation but one commandeered by someone badly playing the guitar around a bonfire? That wasn't a situation worth salvaging. Left to his own devices again, Kieran wandered over to the fire (giving Emilio and the sticky looking children a wide berth) and lamented on his assumption that there would be alcohol here. So far, it seemed the only person that had brought any was the one more likely to shove him into the fire than share. "Don't suppose you had the foresight to bring anything to drink?" he asked the stranger who had previously shown such excitement about the miniature food.

"Nope. I'd be an annoying one. Even worse." DAIYU figured that being sleep deprived because of annoying people would become scary at some point. She flipped Emilio off before turning her attention back to Regan. She really was weird. Even by her estimates. "In real life. Regan, I can do that. My name is Daiyu, but you may call me Blade too. Dead fish don't bring me comfort. They kind of fucking overwhelm my sense of scent. Your source is incorrect." As she was yapping, Tommy was working on his artwork and once done, Daiyu lifted her arm to look at the drawing. "Holy shit, this is amazing. So cool. Hey, Tommy, do you want to give that marker to that grumpy man?" She pointed at Emilio. "He wants to sign it too."

Someone CHUCK didn't know approached him, lifting a brow at the question and then laughing breathily. "You're in luck, stranger," he obliged, fishing a hand into the antique-looking messenger bag that hung at his side and pulling out a leather-bound flask. Passing it to him, CHUCK plucked the last weenie off the stick where he'd been roasting it over the fire. "Leave me some."

Tommy beamed up at Daiyu as she praised his artwork, then nodded his head as he was told to bother Emilio. ALISTAIR walked over to the group conversing about dead fish and frowned. "I'm afraid to ask," they commented with a wary expression. Tommy walked over to Emilio and stared up at him, holding out a marker. "Wanna sign Daiyu's cast? I drew Brutus." He held out the blue marker and wiggled it in front of Emilio's face. "Also I'm Tommy. Hi!"

JADE cackled at Teddy's antics, shooting a quick look at Emilio, who had that annoyed but smitten look about him. She was gonna make fun of him so hard. And, she almost got to, until she spotted her girl Daiyu approaching the group. She was looking so much better since she visited her at the cabin, which made her feel all kinds of relieved. And... was she planning on building more castles? She would join in for sure. "Daiyu!" She hollered, despite her friend being at like, arms length. She smiled in approval as she and Regan got acquainted. Another person was approaching Regan and wow, wasn't she way more popular than she gave herself credit for. She was so proud of her. (Why did Emilio call her human though? Weirdo). JADE began drifting a little, talking to other folks (like the guy who was debating over cheese), and even Penny, who was apparently responsible for the amazing potato dish. "You're not half a bad cook," she shrugged. See, she could play nice!

While TEDDY hadn’t ever met Daiyu “Eye Are El” as Regan put it, they’d seen pictures and heard stories enough to know that she was perhaps their greatest nemesis. (Maybe) But other folks didn’t seem to carry the same animosity towards her that burned in Ted’s heart. So they veered off. Parking their butt by the fire next to Levi, and the cute dog they’d seen out with that Necromancer guy. Allystair? Aelister? Alistair! Wondering where he was, or if he’d just been a dog walker, which didn’t make total sense cause Teddy thought the pup was working, maybe it was a rent a seeing eye dog thing?? Must have been cause they didn’t recognize the guy attached to his handle.

At least Regan seemed pleased by his statement, though EMILIO told himself that he didn’t care about that beyond the fact that she might choose to tip him. He tensed as Kieran approached, jaw clenching as his hand tightened around the flask he held. But Kieran seemed to know better than to approach him, going over to Levi instead. Which was fine, until Teddy joined them both. Emilio watched his partner warily, expression dark as he contemplated approaching. Before he could do so, someone was holding a marker up to him. He glanced down, seeing Alistair’s kid — Tommy, apparently — staring up at him. And, despite the complicated wave of emotions he was struck with (this kid was just a few years older than Jaime, from the looks of it, or a few years older than how old Jaime would have been now), he softened slightly. He didn’t know what the hell the kid was talking about (signing a cast?), but he nodded anyway. “Yeah,” he said, quietly uncertain, “sure. Won’t be able to, uh… draw Brutus, though. Not much of an artist.”

There was some hope for this evening after all and KIERAN was quick to accept the offered flask - not accepting drinks from strangers was for lesser people. After a quick drink, he returned it just as Emilio's partner appeared next to the well-prepared stranger. Seeing that the hunter was currently occupied with one of the children, Kieran risked sticking around. "Appreciate it. I'm Kieran," he greeted, offering a hand to each of the strangers in turn.

Grinning at Teddy as they came to sit by the fire, CHUCK gave them an affectionate, soft pat on the shoulder. "Hey, tadpole," he greeted warmly, looking back at the stranger -- Kieran -- and accepting the flask back. "Mm, pleasure to meet you. I'm... Chuck." he added, shaking his hand with a nod. It was his turn to take a quick swig of the liquor in the flask, and then he glanced at Teddy. "How's Mister Grumpy Gills handling the soiree?"

TEDDY knocked their head against ‘Chuck’s’ shoulder, leaning their for a second to enjoy the contact. “Ahh, well Oscar the Grouch would probably be happier if he threw some things on the fire.” Their hands outstretched, one going for a snack to offer to the pyre, another doing grabby hands at Emilio who was far too far away. That’s when they noticed the guitar guy. “Oh sick, live music is amazing. We should hook you up to the speakers bud”

Sometimes, with people they didn’t know, mommy told people names that were different than normal. It must have been important to know who to tell what, because it always made mommy so very serious. So, between giggles as she swung on the persons arm, ROSIE said “I don’t know. What’s yours?” And then, after a moment, “I have a doggie.” VIC watched the interaction with a small smile, still cautiously waiting for something to go wrong. She nodded approvingly at Jade’s comment, wondering if she was finally seeing the light. And, oh god, she knew Daiyu. Of course they were friends. “Are you two… bffs?”

She offered a large grin to her friend, "Jade!" She was always a delight to see, which was not a sentiment DAIYU extended to many people. At Vic's question, she shrugged. "We're pals, yep!" To call Jade her BFF would be presumptuous and she wasn't sure she even knew what constituted a BFF, due to never having had one. She moved to catch up with Tommy rather than overthink it. She extended her arm towards Emilio. "You can just write something really sweet and heartfelt on here."

"Yes," REGAN confirmed for Brutus's owner. "And you're Alistair. Is your dog going to perform tonight? Whoever's on guitar should stop this..." She tilted her head. "Are they playing ABBA or Chappell Roan? Forget it." She nestled in a little closer to Jade, because it had been over two minutes and forty three seconds, which was illegal even if the state of Maine hadn't signed that into law yet. "I like the name Blade," she told Daiyu-now-Blade, which was as close to a compliment as most people received from her (that didn't evoke comparisons to death like something more heartfelt). "My source is correct and you're atypical, but that is your loss. I will sign your cast. That seems to be a gesture that is still done."

After speaking with Pedro, CHARLIE watched Metzli playing with Rosie, a smile on his face. "You're pretty good at that," he said to Metzli with that same smile on his face.

METZLI furrowed their brows curiously at the girl's answer, afraid that she might be hurt. They stopped swinging for a moment and scanned her for injuries, but she seemed fine. "Hm..." Metzli hummed thoughtfully, remembering an old adage about children and strangers. She had every right to refuse Metzli the knowledge of her name, and they respected that. "My name is Metzli." They swung the girl one more time before taking their seat back by the fire. It felt nice to feel lighter for the first time in weeks. "You have a dog? Where is it? Can I meet it?" Someone else spoke to them and they arched a brow. "Oh. Do you...want to swing too?"

After considering it for a moment, CHARLIE grinned. "What, you offering?" He asked with a playful smile on his face. "Because you're definitely tall enough that I absolutely could go for a swing." Charlie looked over to Regan asking the music to be shut off, then laughed. "The dog sings? Fuckin' nice." Charlie spoke before turning back to Metzli. "I totally won't swing on your arm if you don't want me to, but I won't say no to the offer."

ALISTAIR frowned at the idea of Brutus howling again, and sighed. "Brutus. Speak." The necromancer commanded, causing Brutus to sit in the sand and begin to sing the song of his people. A loud howl began to drown out all the conversation happening. Alistair slowly nodded their head, letting out a tired sigh as Brutus seemed to get louder. At least Regan was having a good time now.

“You want me to lie?” He deadpanned, twirling the marker absently between his fingers. It was the same motion he often defaulted to when holding a knife, not quite a nervous tic but a thing to do with his hands when his body was forced to stand a little too still. Popping the lid off the marker, he scribbled a note on Daiyu’s cast and signed his name at the bottom. Later, when Daiyu read it, she’d probably be less than impressed at the way EMILIO phrased things, but he doubted she’d mind walking around with so many ‘fucks’ written on her arm. Although… he eyed Tommy again. Were you supposed to curse in front of children? It hadn’t mattered with Flora or Jaime, who were viewed by the rest of his family as less children than they were weapons, but maybe it was important for other kids. “Don’t, uh… Don’t read that,” he muttered, turning back towards Teddy, who seemed to be gesturing him over. He eyed Kieran again, pressing his tongue against the back of his teeth. Fortunately, he was saved by the sound of Brutus howling. “Christ,” he muttered. “Loud.”

CHUCK scoffed. "Bit of a pyro, that one," he explained to Kieran, nodding his head in Emilio's general direction. He took a moment to take in Kieran's appearance a little more, then passed the flask back. "Nice outfit. You a city transplant? Don't see many folks from around here that take the time to look presentable."

“Get a room Dad, jeeze.” TEDDY elbowed Chuck.

Trying to decipher the relationship between these two, similar age and strange nickname considered, didn't get KIERAN very far - they clearly weren't fae and lacked a family resemblance. Then again, he didn't really care. The conversation turned to Emilio, who seemed to be attempting to make the faun vanish with the pure intensity of his gaze and in pure opposition, Kieran moved closer to the duo clearly trying to gesture the hunter over. "He looks the part," was all Kieran offered, deciding against revealing that he had in fact met Emilio. A topic change to Kieran's clothing - a personal favorite - dragged his gaze from Emilio. "Been all over. It's my personal mission to bring some style to this town. The two of you should drop by Covet Couture some time, I already have a few things in mind that would suit you."

"Come on, can't a guy appreciate some effort being put into one's appearance?" CHUCK laughed at Teddy's dig, elbowing them back. But, there was an offer on the table, and CHUCK wasn't one to ever let an opportunity slip by. "All over, huh? We could say the same. Interesting offer, though... one I'm inclined to accept! Where've you been that was your favorite?" Good conversation and tiny food? This was turning into a very profitable evening out.

It was a strange request from a grown man, but who was METZLI to refuse such joy? "Uh..." They stood up again and towered over the man, putting out their arm for him to latch on to. "I can spin you too. You probably have better grip than small child. Ready?"

CHARLIE was seriously considering it, then decided fuck it! It was being offered, why the fuck not? Shrugging his shoulders with that same 'fuck it' attitude, he latched onto Metzli's arm and held on tight. "Swing me!" He shouted, ready for the ride.

She was certain Emilio would be unable to write something actually nice on her cast, but it didn't matter. She was just glad to be gathering more text. DAIYU grinned. "Appreciate ya!" She glanced at her arm for a moment, noting a few 'fucks' and finding the sentiment fitting. She plucked the marker from his hands and turned towards Regan, extending it to her. "Blade is a great name, is it not?" That it was the alter ego she'd given herself when she was 13 was a detail best forgotten. "What is your source? A troll account on reddit, I bet. Please sign my cast."

JADE grinned when others offered to sign Daiyu's cast. Her own little cat doodle was looking lonely there. She loved that for her friend. Penny seemed to be aware who Daiyu was too, which was super interesting. Did she like, know every hunter in town. "Wait, you guys know each other?" Huh. Maybe there was more to the squeaky clean Karen after all. As soon as she drifted away, she felt Regan's presence follow. (Gay, but sweet). Okay, so maybe she still needed a little encouragement. Nope, wait, how long had it been? Probably like three minutes already. Time went by fast when you were having fun, but that didn't mean she would neglect their promise. She placed hand on her lower back, and pressed a quick kiss to her cheek, just cause she could. And cause she was proud that she was also gonna sign Daiyu's cast. "I don't think it's either ABBA or Chappell. But it's a nice little ambiance music, maybe I can go request some Carly Rae," in fact, why couldn't she shout it? "Hey! Can you play Run Away with Me? I'll give you my whole cheese platter".

The dog had started howling, and the night immediately got so much better. REGAN pulled Jade closer, to one of the logs by the fire, because the twinkling stars and mournful baying of a retriever who needed no lyrics to convey anything was a beautiful backdrop for a kiss. And then the rotting fish nearby? And the log an uncomfortable reminder beneath her coccyx that comfort like Jade was a luxury? Perfection. It didn't even occur to her that six months ago this would have felt an impossible thing here. "What do you think of the dog?" She asked Jade quietly. "And the night. Do you think we should check on Teddy to make sure they're digesting that fish okay?"

Taking a few steps from the fire, the vampire rose their arm a little higher, dangling the man and few inches from the ground. They took a few more steps to avoid hitting other people and began to spin. Almost instantly, METZLI could see the man's feet go higher and higher as the momentum grew in speed.

Shocked as CHARLIE felt himself lifting off the ground, he found his grip slipping. He began to swing faster and higher before he lost his grip and felt himself go flying. Flying RIGHT into the ocean. A loud splash was heard alongside the dog's howling, and Charlie just sat in the water, shocked. "What the fuck?" He found himself saying aloud, eyes locking onto Metzli's with astonishment. "How the fuck?" He asked, rising out of the water and sloshing over Metzli. "That was amazing, but how the hell did you fucking do that?"

People started getting closer to the fire and DAIYU felt little interest in doing the same, though it was just because fires were boring. In stead, she pointed her not injured arm at Charlie in the water. "Ha!"

Kieran was looking back at him, and EMILIO felt the anger burning in his chest grow a little hotter when he shifted closer to Teddy and Levi. Fuck it. Daiyu was busy bothering Regan now, and he had no more marker to twirl between his fingers, so he made his way over to the group on the other side of the fire, anyway. He’d be uncomfortable in Kieran’s presence, but he could take some solace in the fact that Kieran would be just as uncomfortable in his. Having no winner was fine so long as it meant Kieran was losing, too. He made a quick stop by the food table, snagging a plate and carrying it over. “Brought you cheese,” he greeted, handing it to Teddy and greeting Levi with a nod. Kieran got no greeting. “You think we can convince them to make the dog stop —” A splash interrupted him. He turned towards the sound, raising a brow at Charlie plucking himself from the ocean. If anybody threw Emilio into the water, he thought, he was going to start setting things on fire. But Charlie seemed pleased with it. (More proof, Emilio thought, that Charlie was a weird fucking guy.)

Oh no. They made a horrible miscalculation and a man, now presumed human, was flung into the ocean. He was asking questions, likely because METZLI'S strength was unnatural. "Uh..." They bristled, looking around and taking a few steps back to prevent any water from landing on them. "I...exercise." Which wasn't a lie, at least. "I...have to...go." Metzli swiveled on their heel and fast walked out of view.

It always caught PEDRO’S attention when Daiyu started pointing and laughing at something. Or someone. “Hey; what happened here?” He chuckled, jogging over to join her.

The night went on, and ALISTAIR cut off Brutus's howling after a few minutes, getting annoyed with it. They pat the top of the dog's head, then softly commanded Brutus to find Tommy, which he did, finding him beside Emilio. "Having fun?" Alistair asked his son in a rather uncharacteristically soft voice towards his son. "I got to draw on Daiyu's cast!" He explained. "And gave it to this guy, but now Daiyu has the marker..." Alistair rolled their eyes. "You're never getting that back, kiddo." Alistair told his son before holding out his arm for the boy to take, ready to head out now that Tommy had their fun. "Sorry," Alistair said to Emilio with a shrug before walking off with Tommy on their arm. "Time to get you home for bed," he told his son, who groaned in response and stomping off with Alistair.

JADE needed zero encouragement to let herself be whisked away by Regan, especially when that meant a little alone time. The night was young, there would be plenty of time for socializing. She considered sitting on Regan's lap, and making it more uncomfy (for Regan, who'd have to deal with the weight), but there was a perfectly decent (albeit boring) log next to it. So, she sat there instead. Snuggling up to Regan. She still had a plate of potatoes in her hand for some reason, so she took a stab at it. They really were scrumptious, after all. "The dog is just as incredible as you described it, even better. He deserves all the crackers. And actually... he looks kinda familiar." She couldn't remember from where, though. She glanced toward her friends, a soggy smile spreading across her face. "We will, but first... which one was the large intestine and small intestine?" she wondered looking up at the sky, which somehow, still paled in comparison to how bright Regan's eyes looked tonight.

It would be interesting to see whether Emilio would spill the beans on what had transpired between the two or keep his mouth shut and allow his partner to knowingly meet up with a faun, even if it was just for clothing advice. At least Chuck seemed plenty interested and so, along with making Emilio uncomfortable, this evening had also provided a new customer and maybe a connection to someone intriguing. So KIERAN would stick around, allowing for the small talk of where he'd been, all the while professionally hiding the tension in his shoulder just in case the hunter decided it was time to throw more punches but luckily, it seemed this Teddy was an expert in diverting Emilio's attention. At least there was someone here worth talking to, even if the threat of violence and honestly, the presence of children making this feel about as wholesome as Kieran had expected it to be did result in the faun leaving the beach much earlier than the rest. He had better places to be, people to feed on. And sand to get out of his shoes.

Alistair was pulling Tommy away and, frankly, that was probably for the better. EMILIO wasn’t the best person for a kid to follow; history had proven that much. In any case, the party seemed to be winding down. Apparently, the shrill howls of a dog and seeing a guy get launched into the sea were the signs of a social event coming to an end. Emilio made note of this for future occurrences, then looped an arm around Teddy’s waist. He shot Kieran another glare (one he thought was subtle, but might not have been) and looked to Levi. “Going to get drunk on the beach,” he announced once Kieran had left. It wasn’t an invitation, but it wasn’t not one, either. Levi was one of the few people who could keep up with him when it came to drinking, after all. It was, in any case, an announcement of his departure, and he tugged Teddy gently back towards home.

"Have fun, kids," CHUCK said to Emilio and Teddy when they decided to take their leave, instead opting to stay at the party well into the night. Kieran eventually left as well, leaving the demon to his own devices, which did end up resulting in a couple new deals. Profit!

Watching as Metzli ran off, CHARLIE shrugged, now sopping wet. "Yeah, laugh it up. I had a great time." He told the others laughing at him. "But fuck, I'm dizzy..." he complained with a hand to his head. "Anyone bring a towel?" He asked with narrowed eyes. "Should probably go and... change." He decided, realizing that wet clothes did not make the rockstar very happy to be there. He considered drying off in front of the fire, but after shooting Kieran one last look, decided it was time to go home. "Whoever wants the speakers can have them," he announced before walking off to his van.

She laughed even harder at Charlie's request, feeling a level of ease that she hadn't in a while. DAIYU looked at Pedro, shrugged, "No fucking clue. He was thrown in, I think. Real funny." Back to Charlie: "Alright Chuckie, see ya!" Wasn't it strange, how she was certain she'd see him and plenty of the others here again? Maybe the fire was bonding.

#event #group writing

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howdy-cowpoke · 5 months

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TIMING: Friday, 4/19 (Monty’s birthday! Oops!) LOCATION: Prickly Pear Acres PARTIES: Monty (@howdy-cowpoke) & Jade (@highoctanegem) SUMMARY: Jade pays a visit to Monty on the farm, but it's meant to be their last. CONTENT WARNINGS: Gun use

—

The math had never ever mathed more. (2+2 should be shaking in its boots, in fact). Jade almost thought she was playing with a cheat code when all those lame hunters at The Three Daggers started grumbling about some farm filled with undead near the death pit. The little tip almost made up for the fact everyone in there preferred ABBA over the A-Teens.

Right, irrelevant. (But actually, the A-Teens were never irrelevant in her heart).

The point was, she didn’t even have to ask where said farm was located, cause she was positive she already knew anyway. Actually, she’d already visited once. So why not pay an old friend a visit? And maybe this sudden need to take on this side quest came from a need for a big moment, what about it? Maybe she had been in a bit of a flop era (one that could be dated several years back, hypothetically). Something something about her ego constantly getting beat down. Metzli. The banshees. And well, Regan too… in a different way. So what if she was doing this to feel better about herself? She was also putting a stop to a very obvious problem threatening Wicked’s Rest population. Two undead birds (or like, dozens) and one stone (several knives and a gun) (She was gonna have to work on that analogy).

Jade showed up to Prickly Pear Acres dressed as one of their own. Throwing ‘howdys’ and tipping her hat (that she bought at a costume shop) at everyone who wished her a good day. It was a very polite group, she had to admit, despite her skin thrumming in their presence. And see! Everybody was so quick to judge her commitment to ridding the town of the undead. They always assumed she like, despised the creatures she’d vowed to cull. It was so not like that at all? It was never personal. Case in point, Monty was the metaphorical father to her pride and joy. Her Lullaby. Why would she have anything against him? Nope. It was just that she had to uphold the Bloodworth’s code and this big farm concealing something that was totally starting to feel like a horde the more she sauntered around the field was a stepping stone in her journey. Similar to how every pop girly had to have a feat with a problematic rapper to appeal to a different audience. Simple as that.

Eventually, Jade found her way toward the big main house. (And yup, she did get distracted with all the adorable animals. Sometimes multitasking existed, alright?). She did not plan on starting little. Big prizes only. Her mind was set on Monty before she could think of going down the metaphorical food chain. Thinking too long about food as it pertained to zombies wasn’t something she wanted to do, actually.

She didn’t barge inside the residence. She had like, manners and stuff. But she did tap on the window and stared from outside in a totally non-creepy way as she spotted the man of the hour. She waved at him enthusiastically, beckoning him outside.

—

Things on the farm had been… chaotic.

No. That was putting it mildly. They'd been fucking awful, and Monty had no one to blame but himself. He'd not believed the threats he'd been getting, and his poor animals had paid the price of that hubris. So many of them were brutally slaughtered, and he couldn't—no. No more of that. Wallowing would solve nothing.

The man of the hour, as he would've been very embarrassed to know he was thought of, was just emerging from the master bedroom downstairs when he spotted movement in one of the windows. Plopping his hat down on his head, he smiled tiredly when he realized who it was, returning the wave and giving a nod. He grabbed his jacket from the hook on the wall and headed to the front door, shrugging it on as he opened it and stepped out onto the porch.

“Buenos días, amiga,” he greeted Jade with a grin that might have been a bit lacking in the usual warmth. “What brings you here today, ah? I was just about to go take Nero for a run… come! Walk with me.” He'd spent just about every afternoon with his horse since that night, recalling the terror that had gripped his unbeating heart as he raced to Habanero's stall, dreading the worst. But the Thoroughbred was fine, if not a little spooked, and he hadn't had yet another loss to mourn yet.

Motioning in the direction of the horse stables with a jerk of his head, he took a step and waited for Jade to fall in beside him and explain why she'd come. “Is Lullaby all right?”

—

“Buenos!” Jade replied, her head bobbing with enthusiasm, bringing two fingers to her forehead for a salute. Despite his grin (the type that didn’t reach all the way to his eyes), Monty looked a little rough. But like, who wouldn’t look a little worse for wear if you had to sustain yourself with brains? Tragic, wasn’t it? But Jade could help with that. She would help with that. She’d erase that tired look on his face. The how was just… a small detail. (Don’t even worry about it)

Jade was momentarily thrown off by the mention of his horse. Cause, look… She could’ve been a horse girl in another life, okay? If she hadn’t grown surrounded by weapons and hunter codes, if her life had been different, she could’ve been a horse girl. She would’ve loved being one. The first time she rode one, (just like, a couple months ago in that weird silent stable) was the freaking best time of her life. So duh! She definitely wanted to say hi to Monty’s horse. “I was in the neighborhood,” she circled around… the acres of field. “Metaphorically. I was visiting a friend in the death pit” she pulled her lips together into a frown, cause she was sad for her imaginary dead friend and all. “And I thought, why don’t I stop by… and see if my bud has any more adorable kitties up for adoption?” That might just save his life again, actually. Nope, wait. Priorities. Focus.

“I can’t say no to Habanero time. Plus! you know, if any of your other babies are safe for a beginner, I’d love to join you on that walk. It’s been a stressful couple of weeks, days even, I’d love to just, sway a little bit,” Jade blew a dramatic sigh, falling into step. It wasn’t so hard, cause Monty wasn’t that much taller than her. (Her leg did feel a little stiff from the recently healed wound in her belly). “Oh! Lullaby is perfect. She’s the best cat in the world, and she has a twin now! My… friend gave him to me,” she pulled out her phone, from the big coat she wore for the only purpose of concealing her blades, and the gun. And whoops, she needed to change that lock screen, didn’t she? Maybe tomorrow, or like, next month. (No rush, Regan would stay gone). She searched through her photos, until she found one of her babies and turned the screen toward Monty to show him. “There they are, Lullaby and Melody” she smiled sweetly at the loves of her life. (The ones that couldn’t leave her). They were being especially cuddly with her these days, cause she was probably reeking pathetic girl scent.

Jade pocketed her phone and happily walked with Monty, eyes darting around, scouting the area. To the untrained eye, it might just look like her being super curious. It wasn’t too long a walk until they reached the stables. This was so convenient, actually. It was like Monty also got the script. (What a good scene partner). “You have a lotta people working here, huh? Is it like, one huge family to you?”

—

“Oh.” He wasn’t really sure what to say to that. “I am… sorry for your loss.” Visiting someone in the death pit seemed a strange custom, but then he supposed it was no more strange than visiting a grave. This grave just happened to be shared with many, many other people. And it had recently caved in on itself a bit. “You should be careful out there, the ground seems to be swallowing itself and I do not think it would be good for your health to fall in.” And who knew what sorts of beasts might linger in the underdark? Still he smiled, shaking his head. “Afraid I do not have any more kittens for you though. Maybe next time.” Only if another stray pregnant cat happened upon the farm, since Señora had been fixed since her last litter.

His smile actually brightened somewhat when she expressed interest in riding with him and he gave a quick nod. “Ah, yes! Manzanita is the perfect horse for beginners! I would love to have you come with.” He glanced at the phone as it was turned to him, expression softening at the sight of the cats. “That’s great, I’m glad she has a buddy! They’re very cute together.”

After the pair had arrived at the stables and Monty had started the process of getting Habanero saddled up, Jade asked him a question he didn’t rightly expect, but one he supposed shouldn’t have come as a surprise. A part of him felt a little guilty for feeling even the tiniest hint of suspicion, because Jade had never been anything other than kind to him. It was all this business with the night market and the threatening letters he’d been getting… after what had happened the night Kaden almost died, he was overly anxious about questions regarding the farm and the people that lived and worked there.

But this was Jade! There was no need for concern.

“It has become that over time, yes,” he agreed, smoothing out the blanket over Nero’s back. The blood bay craned his neck and nosed at Monty’s head, pushing his hat askew and nibbling at his long hair. The cowboy seemed unbothered, just smiling and letting the horse do what he pleased, focused on his task. “We take in… strays, as it were. People with no place else to go and with no one else to turn to. Help get them back on their feet. Many of them choose to stay and live here.” He glanced over at Jade before tightening one of the straps around the horse’s middle. “I found it difficult to connect with people for a long time, but the folks here… they have grown on me.”

—

Jade shrugged over her imaginary loss, not wanting to put Monty in an awkward position (not yet at least). “It's totally chill, it was her last wish. She said, and I quote: I finna be in the pit” She wiped her face for a fake tear, looking up at Monty when he offered advice. Aw. She really did like Monty. But there was no room for sentimentality when you were a hunter. Developing affections only led to failure to complete one's duty (Onyx, circa 2008). It made you sloppy weak sauce (Jasper, same circa). “It was looking pretty bad, I don’t think I’ll be returning… you have nothing to worry about,” she promised with a similar smile. That wasn’t exactly a promise she’d keep though (and provided this day unfolded as expected, he wouldn’t be here to check anyway). The death pit was like, an all-you-can-eat buffet for the undead. It was literally her obligation to do something about it. Then she sighed, a little disappointed to hear about the lack of kittens. Alright then, no saving grace for Monty. Bummer. It was fine. She had to keep her head in the game. It was the best for both of them.

Oh, speaking of distractions. Well, Manzanita would be there, how could she say no to that? Jade perked up, for several reasons. Actually, that would make it way easier to snipe Monty. She never liked her chances when combat was involved. But to shoot him at a distance? Maybe even with his back to her? Perfect. He’d never suspect a thing. (She’d never get to see the realization dawn on his face) (Which, she weirdly cared about, for whatever reason). She simply smiled at his observation of her adorable cats, cause duh! Of course they were. It was still super nice when people agreed though. She’d make sure to tell them when she… visited them. Times were tricky, she didn’t need the reminder that she couldn’t spend every waking hour with them anymore. Nope, forget about that, her mind was already shifting into slayer mode.

(She did have to stop herself one last time from vibrating when she caught a glimpse of Manzanita, though)

Her lips stretched into a sweet smile, the spark not quite reaching her eyes when Monty began spilling tea about his farm. Confirming all the rumors hunters were gossiping about at the bar. And there it was, again, the whole being a good monster thing Metzli drilled into her skull. Monty talked about people having nowhere to go and no one to turn to, so of course he stepped in to help rehabilitate zombies. Was he making sure everybody was living by his codes too? And actually, she had no clue what Monty’s codes were. He could be feeding on humans despite his sunny disposition. She knew something about being two-faced! And even if he did follow a similar mentality as Metzli, was he making sure all these zombies were playing nice too?

Jade hummed, tilting her head in consideration, watching him get Habanero ready and then move on to Manzanita. It would be weirder if she didn’t bring up the undead situation of it all, right? She let out a chuckle, pacing toward Monty. She still wanted to give friendly, not predator vibes. “That’s so cute, found family is like… a goated trope,” she pursed her lips, waiting for Monty to look at her before continuing. Her gaze narrowed, piercing through brown eyes. “I heard the craziest rumor, the other day…” she huffed a laugh, shaking her head as she did a quick mental inventory of every weapon she was carrying. She cared the most about where exactly her holster was attached to her belt. She couldn’t fumble. “I bet you’ve heard it too! This town I swear. What are you planning on doing about the whole ‘this farm is full of zombies’ stuff? It popped up on… TikTok! You’re gonna need like, a strong PR. My advice? You make fun of it. In on the joke and all,” and actually, depending on his answer, maybe the stables were already the perfect scenario to pull the trigger. Metaphorically and literally. Her problem with Metzli had been that she’d extended her monologue for too many pages, allowing for doubt to creep in. See she learned!

—

There it was again. A question Monty didn't expect on a subject he was loath to discuss with others. Not until he knew he could trust them. And as much as he liked Jade, how much could he trust her? How much did he know her?

The cowboy swallowed his fear and kept his gaze steady and locked with hers, manifesting a somewhat bemused expression and letting it slip over his soft features. “Oh… is that what they are calling migrant workers these days?” So there was a rumor. Whether or not it meant anything to Jade personally, there was a rumor. This was bad, very bad. He itched to pull out his phone and text Kaden at once, but he couldn't. It might look suspicious, and he was still on the fence of whether or not he could trust Jade. “Well, I do not think such claims will mean much in the face of the truth,” he answered coolly, mustering every ounce of his former bravery to keep him from showing his anxiety. He reached for the man he’d been before he’d died. The kind of man that would throw himself on the blade to protect those he cared about. Daisy was in his thoughts as he finished saddling up Manzanita. Beth, too. Denver, Dallas, Ford, and all the rest were all he could think about as he turned again to Jade, reins in hand. “Shall we ride?”

He chose not to bring the subject up again, waiting to see if she would. There was no point in it if she thought it was a ridiculous claim, and if she didn’t think it was absurd, time would reveal her intentions. That was part of the reason why he’d decided to take them on a ride away from the farm, rather than around its perimeter. If this turned bad, he didn’t want his people to be in danger. She might just be asking because she, like the rest of them, was dead. Maybe she was a different kind of dead, like Ariadne was, or something else entirely. Inhuman and seeking company of those like her. Or, the more worrying scenario, she cared about the liveliness of the farm’s inhabitants because she saw them as something to be gotten rid of. Whichever way it went, he didn’t see a benefit to staying on the farm.

He would not let his wariness show, riding confidently alongside her, and even pulling ahead now and then when the path narrowed. If he still had a heartbeat, it would have been as quick and fluttering as a jackrabbit’s as he tried to discern the nature of this visit. It was sudden, that was certain, and seemed to lack much purpose other than asking after kittens that didn’t exist. That felt a flimsy excuse, but then Monty wondered if he wasn’t just being paranoid. Friends did just drop in sometimes, didn’t they? Just to say hello? Yes, there was nothing especially strange about that, he assured himself. All the same, he kept a close eye on her as they rode, glad that the small talk had not yet turned back to the farm hands.

—

Monty played a good card, Jade had to hand it to him. Not a card that would stop her from doing what she had to do, mind you (no more Metzlis for her!), but… she could recognize the game. She could acknowledge a decent attempt at switching narratives. Her lips twitched, sharing a knowing look. There was no reason to goad him further, actually, she got the reaction she wanted. “Uh-huh, so awful, right? Kids on TikTok, they just have too much free time,” almost as much time as the people scrolling down for hours did. (She’d know). “We shall!” She changed subjects, grabbing the reins offered to her, and following Monty outside the barn. (The mounting took three tries, but if no one was there to see it, did it count?).

Jade had questions about his past, obviously. When didn’t she? Had Monty been a target B.M (Before Metzli), she would’ve wanted to hear him out, a lot of undead just needed that. He must’ve suffered horrors post-transformation, no doubt about it. He must’ve had tales about losing control and harming others. Killing, too. That was a given. Becoming undead was a curse she wouldn’t wish it on her worst enemy (the country of Ireland). And Jade would’ve found ways to reassure him, to look at him with compassion, a promise ready on her lips: She’d fix him. (Cause everyone wanted that, right?). But after Metzli, she promised herself she’d be careful with her sympathy. Maybe it had always been a mistake to approach it like that. As a kindness. Which, it still was, ending an undead’s suffering always was, but it didn’t need to be explained every time. And actually, yup! It was super dumb to feel like she had to justify herself, as if there was anything wrong with carrying her duty. She couldn’t expect every undead to get it, her purpose. Her decisions had to be sharper. So they would be (Ruby would be proud of her display of pragmatism).

There was somebody else in her mind though. Her heart, really (always). Someone who would’ve questioned her intentions, her need to go after someone who appeared innocent in every sense (as if there was innocence in a man turned monster, turned killer, stripped from humanity). But that person wasn’t here, and Jade didn’t have to answer to her. She was all the way in Ireland, they couldn’t make each other girl failures anymore! Wasn’t that what they wanted? N— Yup. Yup! She was doing the right thing. She was. Protecting Wicked’s Rest humans from this zombie farm. Stopping this from becoming a horde out of control. “You should totally tell me more about Habanero,” Jade cut off her thoughts before they escalated into something that would have her making stupid decisions. Stupid decisions were reserved for her personal life only, not her job. (Which was the best job in the world! Had she mentioned that lately?).

Monty took the bait, but Jade wasn’t really listening. Her right hand held onto Manzanita’s reins, while her left dug inside the coat, taking advantage of the small distance Monty and Habanero had created by walking a few feet ahead. She let out some excited hums, encouraging him to keep going, while she took out the gun from the holster and released the safety button. She wasn’t too comfortable with the weight in her hands, way more used to her crossbow, or her knives. But carrying a crossbow into the farm would’ve raised more eyebrows and turned more heads than needed. And when was hunting ever about comfort?

The window of distraction would never be long enough. A second. Two tops, before Monty sensed abnormal movement or checked on her. So Jade lifted her arm, set her sight, right in the middle of Monty’s skull and squeezed the trigger with no preamble. The way she should’ve done with Metzli. No dilly-dallying. Boom. Done. The thunder sent birds flying and… She wasn’t counting on Manzanita to try and save her owner. The horse reeled, sending Jade backward, and throwing her aim off. The bullet flew across the air, missing the target, but scraping Monty’s scalp. Jade tried to get the horse to chill out, but when she realized she wouldn’t, she decided to fire, anyway. It wasn’t about aiming now, she just needed Monty to lose his balance.

—

Click.

So he’d been right to be afraid. Damnit. He didn’t have time to think about these things between the sound of the safety being released, Manzanita neighing angrily, and the deafening crack of the pistol as it fired. His hat went flying though he barely felt the sting of the wound. The boom echoed through the trees, ricocheting off their trunks and frightening the animals they rode who were now uncertain where it was coming from. Habanero, at least, had more experience around firearms, and did not try to buck Monty, but instead stamped his feet and started to turn around with his ears pinned flat against his head.

As Jade came into view, Monty felt his fear turn into something else. That person he’d been trying to reconnect with before, the person he was when life was harder and demanded more of him in order to survive was the one who stared her down now. He drew his own gun, a revolver that had served him well for decades, but found himself staring down the muzzle of her pistol as she went to fire again. Manzanita was busy trying to free herself of her burden, which made Monty a harder target to hit… but it made Jade a harder target, too. He was careful, reflexively ducking as she fired off another shot, taking aim as he straightened up again but hesitating to shoot for fear of hurting Manzanita. Still, she was just going to keep shooting at him until she succeeded in her goal, so he had to do something. He shouted a command to Habanero, something in Spanish that rolled quickly off his tongue, and the horse ducked his head. Monty fired his weapon, hitting the woman in the shoulder.

He holstered his revolver and dismounted like it was nothing, racing over to Manzanita and grabbing Jade by the waist, ripping her out of the saddle and throwing her to the ground. As he dropped down on top of her to try and wrestle the firearm from her hands, he yelled another command at his horses. Habanero reared and then bolted, nudging past Manzanita on the way and urging her to follow. Both equines sprinted into the trees and away from danger, and Monty dug the thumb of his left hand into her right shoulder, into the bleeding gunshot wound, his right hand clasped over hers that held the gun, keeping her finger away from the trigger.

“What are you doing?!” he shouted, though he obviously knew the answer. Having the why wouldn’t make much of a difference, but he felt compelled to ask all the same. Dark blood dripped from the graze on his scalp, running through his long hair and down his face, unnoticed by the zombie.

—

Jade could’ve done better. Nuh-uh. Should’ve. Even before Monty’s horse messed up her shot. She was immediately surrounded by giant ghosts, ghosts she loved, sure, but ghosts who were only summoned to berate her for how she did her job. If she had aimed for Habanero… put a bullet through his leg. She could’ve, should’ve been more cold-blooded. But her heart couldn’t even entertain the idea. No harming the living, she was especially stubborn about that one. She would not join the ranks of all those “does the horse die” lists. The animal had no blame for what his owner did to sustain his lifestyle.

That was where she knew, she would’ve disappointed her older siblings. That’s how Jade knew she still wasn’t there, at their level. That she wasn’t at the point where she could skew the lines of her conscience if it meant securing the kill. But she would be. She would be. And taking Monty out was a good way of showing it. How committed she was. Despite her numerous missteps, one thing remained constant: She was above the moral conflicts that plagued every other hunter in Wicked’s Rest. She was a slayer. She would slay. (Except… forget about Metzli).

If anything, she should be grateful to Monty for getting in the way of her highly anticipated, one season in the making, mental breakdown. He was so quick drawing his gun, so sharp on top of the horse. Almost like, he had been a real cowboy and not just part of his gay identity. Her hat flew off her head when Manzanita bucked and thrashed to get rid of her. Joke was on the horse, cause Jade was an expert mechanic bull rider so this was like, a regular Saturday night. (And sure, her recent stab wound was politely asking she’d stop showing off). She wasn’t even sure why she was still trying to stay up on the horse, if not to display core skills that served no one these days (Regan’s loss). Cause the more she emptied her gun with shots that barely grazed him, the more she realized she was wasting time. And she was being ridiculed for the one thing she did know how to do expertly. (She did not practice shooting for two decades for a sweet horse with a gorgeous mane to put her on blast).

Speaking of blast: She heard it. Saw the muzzle on Monty’s revolver flash. Then a precise bullet punched through her right shoulder, exiting the other side.

It burned. (Duh!) It burned so freaking bad that for five long seconds, Jade had no jokes to crack. Partly shook, partly curious, (partly stupid), she couldn’t help but look down. These types of wounds were not common in her line of work. It was red, her flesh torn with like, a tiny hole. Oh, that did make her a little queasy, actually. Monty became blurry too, from the tears stinging her eyes, so it was kinda nice he seemed to be approaching.

Until she was slammed to the ground with a loud thud. Geez. She wasn’t gonna pretend it wasn’t a little bit hot? The skill, obviously. She appreciated skill in all sorts of creatures. Equally as hot but nowhere near as fun? The sharp, shooting pain all through her limb and chest as a mean thumb jabbed into her shoulder, blood gushing out of the wound. Her chest heaved, a scream threatening to rip her throat, but she contained it through gritted teeth. There was no time for the haze of pain or nausea. Adrenaline was kicking in. She tried to free her left hand, while her right hand tried to twist Monty’s wrist. The problem was, her fingers were not in the mood to obey, so it just felt like she was pawing at him. (She didn’t have it in her to make a joke about how her fingers always worked, but it was there, in spirit).

Oh no. Monty wanted to talk. While they both exerted over her gun? Jade was a multitasker, sure. But not to the point of miracles. And again, had this happened before she would’ve been so disappointed Monty couldn’t see why this had to be done. She would’ve made sure the math was mathing for him too. Screw that. “What does it look… like I’m doing? Taking out… the leader of Zombie Farm. There’s already a game about that, we don’t need the live-action!” dead-action? Her upper body was locked while they battled it out, but her legs still worked, kneeing Monty in the abdomen. One millisecond to ease his grip on her. She twisted (or well, whatever her fingers did) Monty’s wrist and bent her hand just enough for the gun to aim at his face. She squeezed the trigger tasting victory, and… Nothing. She was empty, and she was too tied down by Monty regaining control to reach inside her coat for another magazine. Oh boy.

—

As expected, he knew the answer. Of course, what else could it be? Whether or not the rumor was true, Jade was a slayer. Monty wondered why she’d held onto it before, why she’d accepted the kitten from him and pretended that they were friends when her ultimate goal was to kill him. Maybe this was what he deserved for trusting outsiders. Maybe he should’ve been more careful… or maybe she just needed to be more dead.

Wincing slightly at the kick to his gut, his grip on her wrist failed just enough for her to make use of it. She pointed the gun at his head, but he didn’t flinch. She pulled the trigger and nothing happened. “You should learn to count your shots,” he snarled, his tone carrying a cold viciousness that he hadn’t heard come from himself since before he died. “You know the scary thing about fighting zombies like this? The more you hurt us, the stronger we get. The harder to kill. You should never take a zombie in hand-to-hand. Never miss that first shot.” He headbutted her then, not hard enough to knock her out, but enough to daze her for a moment so he could get the gun away from her and securely in the waist of his jeans. He was giving her a quick pat down as she started to come back out of it, tossing aside whatever weapons of hers he could get his hands on.

“I should kill you,” he said once her eyes had focused on him again. He had his revolver out and pointed right in her face just as she’d done to him. Her arms were now pinned by his knees as he straddled her torso, staring down at her with a dark, uncaring gaze. “But then I would just be proving your point, wouldn’t I?” He seemed to consider the pros and cons of this for a moment, cocking his head to the side. His face was changed, and it harbored no fear. She couldn’t kill him, he knew that. She could try, and in the process she might turn him feral, but then he would be nearly unstoppable. He would devour her, come back to himself, and the problem would be solved. Or he could kill her here, now. It was self defense.

He’d been here before, of course. Without the near invincibility that being undead offered, he’d held a gun to a man’s head just like this. He was young, hardly done being a child, and this was the first time he’d had to do it himself. He was usually the decoy, or the sneak thief, but never the killer. Until that day, until things went wrong and he was the only one who had a clear shot. Still he hadn’t taken it, still he’d decided to tackle the man to the ground instead, where they’d struggled in the dust for some seconds before Monty came out on top, frantic and gasping for breath. “Shoot him!” one of his companions had cried out. Monty had faltered, the hand that held his revolver trembling like a leaf in the wind. “You fucking kill him, boy!” Hector’s voice had rang out above the rest, and it was like a sleeper command. Monty had pulled the trigger without hesitation then, blinking in surprise as blood splattered up his front and onto his face.

He pressed the muzzle beneath Jade’s chin, waiting to see if he’d hear that command again. “If I let you go, I get the feeling you will be back. Is that true?” Hector spoke in a voice only he could hear, and Monty could feel the weight of the hand on his shoulder.

If you want something to make it worth the trouble… tie her up to the horse n’ let him drag her to death. You remember when we did that to that deputy? Bastard was paste on the road by the end of it.

He remembered. He had called on that version of himself for bravery and strength, but now it had pivoted to violence and cruelty. To survival.

—

See this was why Jade preferred her crossbow. Or even the classic bow and arrow, (and nope, not just cause she’d gone through a Katniss Everdeen phase). This is what she got for trying to diversify. Ugh. A gun was nowhere near as sexy either. So call it a temporary lapse of judgment, always so rare for her. Monty snarled on top, his face contorting in the monstrous viciousness of his kind. The type of viciousness innocents must’ve seen right before he made a meal out of them. it was kind of him to supply some lore, albeit pointless, cause she already knew that. But it was rude not to reply to him, so she tried, through strained breaths. “Oh yuh— up, that’s like… chapter 3, nuh uh! Maybe 4 of The Book of Unlife, they even… made a movie.” That was why she’d try putting a bullet through his skull while he was at a safe distance, and she would’ve gotten away with it if it weren’t for Manzanita! “This crash course is fun though, I do… learn… getting my hands dirty. Should we go… to shooting practice too?” No answer, except… Monty had a very strange way of booping her nose. Ow. (So… was that a yes?)

Nope. Jade felt a little lightheaded, her forehead buzzing from the headbutt. And oh, crap… he had her gun. And a few of her knives. She could forgive him for shooting her, but she did not like him patting her down. It was the only time she showed her discontent with a grunt, keenly aware of the ring in her left hand. It almost pulsed. The ring in her hand which led to the woman who gave it to her, whose hands were the only ones Jade wanted. Speaking of… If, (hypothetically) she were to kick it, would she sense it? She hated that. Jade’s bones were too fresh still for her to come to collect. She needed them to be a little more decomposed. Perfect for her lady. Besides, she had promised to be careful. And right, yikes, there were weapons being pulled from inside her coat, focus, but…

Monty should kill her, was his idea. Jade wasn’t too big of a fan. “I dunno, should you? Cause... that’s definitely not a good look,” he seemed to agree with her in the next beat. Perfect! And talking was really helpful in getting her mind off the pain, actually. Yapping was always the solution, it seemed. But then Monty had the gall to remind her just how much her nerve endings were screaming, once his knees pinned her arms. Feeling left out, the stab wound in her belly also protested. Jade chewed her bottom lip, keeping a scream at bay.

Monty drew his revolver again.

The muzzle was still hot from his last shot. Not enough to burn into her skin as he pressed against it, but enough for Jade to let out a small sound of discomfort. But like, maybe that was the fact that she was held at gunpoint, not so much the temperature of said weapon. Could she breathe a little, please? Her chest shook with a labored breath. “I mean, I could lie. I’m good at that. But honesty is the best policy and all so uh, yup! We’re definitely getting a sequel, unless we flop at the office and the studio cancels us. But like, I’d carry a sword or something next time… maybe… my own horse.” Someone, far, far away (where Boneios were a thing) would’ve probably wished she had more self-preservation instincts. Her siblings were rolling their eyes, for sure. She’d seen that look too many times. Most recently when her confidence got that old fart released into the world. Jade stared at Monty with an insolent look. A lot of stuff seemed to be going through his head too, so maybe there was a chance to prey on that. “For what it’s worth it’s not personal. I can’t let fondness get in the way of my duty,” and there was warmth, still lingering. But it was so easy to make the distinction when she weighed the pros and cons. It would always be a no-brainer. Unlike Monty, by the looks of it. “You’re doing dangerous stuff around here. One of your pals loses control… and innocent people pay the price.” That was it, that was all the context he got. It wasn’t like context had helped Metzli.

She wasn’t gonna die today, that was what she wanted to focus on. Jade lifted a challenging eyebrow at him. Even that hurt like she was being zapped, actually. “Come on. Prove it to yourself, you’re a good monster,” cause apparently everybody was a good monster in this town. Not one shady vampire or savage zombie. Nope. They all stayed home to write poetry or knit or whatever it was they were doing when somehow, humans turned up dead, their blood slurped or their insides munched. Undead here were built different, which was totally suspicious considering the sheer volume of them frolicking around. “You’d let a baby without her mother? Twins! Without their mother. They have no one else,” it was fleeting, but genuine concern passed through her features as she considered leaving Lu and Mel orphaned. She just couldn’t. She lifted her knee again, hitting Monty in the back of his thigh.

—

She should have lied, probably. Not that Monty would have believed her, but still. “This is why I keep my pals fed and happy,” he retorted, looking less upset and more curious. “That’s what we do here—that’s what the livestock is for. Do you really think a bunch of zombies would be capable of running a farm if they were on the edge of starvation? No… we get by on the brains of the cows, the sheep, the goats.” And whatever random human chose to attack one of them and die as a consequence… “People like you, people that we have to kill in self defense… your organs bolster our diet. We ration your pieces to give the animal viscera that extra kick that it needs to keep us going. We have a system, and we do not harm anyone who does not try to harm us first.” He frowned. “When they do try to harm us, they are creating the danger. You shooting me, you created the danger today.” And the way he was feeling now, like the lock had been broken off of a cage door, she may have created the danger that would exist for quite some time.

Kill her. She’s a threat to you n’ yours. Kill her, it’s what we would have done, Hector said. Monty drew in a long breath, lifting his chin as he still stared down at Jade. “They will find another family,” he said grimly. He had, after all. Everyone he knew had, in some way or another. It was just a fact of life. And death.

Kill her.

His finger twitched on the trigger, squeezing but not hard enough to fire. He could feel Hector’s presence behind him, looming over him and bidding he do what was necessary. But there was something else, some small voice that begged him to stop. Begged him to consider the consequences. Emilio would be given reason enough to come for him, he figured. The people that had attacked the farm not that long ago would hear about if they were in fact connected to the hunter bar, and if Jade was not lying about the rumor. She would become a martyr to some he could guess, and likely many more that he could not. After all, hunters still loved. Kaden…

Kaden would think less of him, wouldn’t he? He might be alarmed by this behavior, it might push him away… he couldn’t live with that.

“I am a good monster,” the cowboy answered before pulling his arm back, flipping the revolver around in his hand, and whipping her in the head with the grip. Her eyes rolled in her head for a second before they closed, and he was quick to whistle for his horse’s return. Habanero came trotting back up to the scene with some trepidation, but moved to Monty’s side with another coax. Monty grabbed the rope that was attached to his saddle and rolled Jade over, tying her hands and feet behind her back. Her knives and gun he stashed in his saddlebag, then hoisted her up from the ground and draped her over Habanero’s hindquarters. Manzanita came quietly over to them and Monty made sure to give her a treat before climbing onto Habanero’s back and urging the mare to follow with a click of his tongue.

They’d been riding for about ten minutes or so when the slayer came around, making a sound behind Monty. “Do not throw yourself from the horse,” he warned, not looking back. “Your ankles are bound and you will not get far.” Around them, the trees were starting to thin out and the vast fields were getting smaller as they got closer to town. Monty turned them into the ditch, figuring this was close enough. He stopped, dismounted, and pulled Jade from Nero’s back, throwing her over his shoulder. A few more paces down into the ditch and up the other side, and he set her down roughly against a fence post. Removing his own hunting knife from its sheath on his belt, the zombie paused, staring at her.

“I am not letting you go because I believe you will change, but I will be prepared for you next time. And there will be no second chances.” With that, he roughly sliced his blade through the ropes at her feet so she could walk herself back to town, but her hands stayed secured behind her. “I’d wish you luck, but… I think I’d rather you die on the road.”

#. thread ;#. with ; jade bloodworth #. nothing personal ;#gun use tw

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loftylockjaw · 3 months

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TIMING: Current LOCATION: Downtown PARTIES: Wyatt (@loftylockjaw) & Maggie (@woveninstardust) SUMMARY: Wyatt spots Maggie in town, then hurries to her defense when he realizes she's being bullied. She's upset, but grateful. CONTENT WARNINGS: none!

—

While some people looked fondly upon high school days, Maggie grimaced. Elementary school was easy- friends were easy to make at that age, and when you could play make-believe like it was your profession and draw better than most, it was easy to win other kids over. You could close your eyes on the swings and jump, and if you said you were flying, the other kids might just believe. But people grow up, and when they do, they often discard their imagination because they become self conscious of it. They shed it. Bury it. And will scoff at the things they once found joy and wonder in.

Maggie had clung to that sense of wonder like it was a life raft. It was not a bad thing to believe in something wondrous. But it put a big neon target on her back while she roamed the halls of good old WR High. Which was, decidedly, not good. It was easier now to avoid those who had been the cruelest. There were no classes to hold her captive, and lunch tables were a thing of the growing-distant past. But every so often, she heard a too-familiar voice, and she would get pulled back into that scared young girl lost in her sketchbook.

She had been sitting outside downtown, enjoying the late afternoon sunshine and fixing some rough sketches- adding detail where there had been nothing, smoothing out lines and curves; maybe, just maybe, she might add a little color work, some shading… - when she heard someone snickering. Multiple someones. Just one quick look was enough to make her want to shrink back, close her sketchbook, and go. A cluster of old classmates. Whispering. Pointing. Laughing.

The girl looked back down, trying to disappear back into her drawing like she’d never even noticed. But Maggie heard footsteps, saw shadows in her periphery, and knew this would not be fun for her.

Actually having managed to snag several uninterrupted hours of sleep, Wyatt was feeling less batshit than usual, which was good. It was a nice break, even if those tendrils of fear still lapped at his heels, threatening to catch up again once the sky grew dark. Until then, the lamia was celebrating with some well-earned sunshine and human interaction, even if it was just with strangers.

A familiar head of hair caught his attention as he walked down the street and he did a double take, recognizing the girl from the creek immediately. He grinned before remembering that he was not very ‘Mister Gator’-y right now, and his enthusiasm faded. It’d be weird for him to just approach her out of nowhere, especially when he wasn’t about to let her know that he was her alligator friend. Oh well. About to turn and leave, he paused when he saw a group of kids her age lingering nearby, looking… problematic. His instinct was correct as he watched them walk up to Maggie and say some things he couldn’t hear, then rip the sketchbook from her hands and start ripping out pages and throwing them in the air.

Oh hell no.

Wyatt surged forward, running across the street and grabbing the boy that had her sketchbook in his hands by the back of his neck. He shouted some choice expletives as Wyatt snatched the sketchbook from his hands, handing it back to Maggie without looking at her.

“What the fuck is your problem?” he snarled, shoving him roughly into his other friends, who looked equal parts pissed and freaked out.

“My problem?! What the fuck is yours!?” the kid shouted back, and Wyatt rolled his eyes.

“Ain’t you kids a little old to be bullies? How old are you?” One of the girls in the group puffed up like an annoyed chicken, thrusting her fists against her sides in an attempt to look… bigger? Tougher?

“We’re adults, you clown,” she snapped, and Wyatt grinned.

“Oh, that so? Coulda fooled me. Get the fuck outta here n’ leave this girl alone, all of ya.”

“Yeah? What’re you gonna do about it?” Wyatt shook his head, lifting a brow at their presumed ringleader.

“Don’t think you wanna find out, beanstalk. You’re adults, yeah? Means I can punch you just like I can punch any other bitch harassin’ someone, n’ the bluesuits ain’t gonna have much to say about it.” That probably wasn’t true, but they didn’t seem to pick up on his bluff. The chicken girl dropped her hands back to her sides, her eyes wide.

“... come on, Matthias. Let’s just go.”

Allison Beckett and Matthias Ford (or, as they had been in their high school days, Ally and Matty) had been the ring leaders of Maggie’s high school tormenting. They had been an average level on the popularity scale- just enough that they could float above the quiet kids. And make their lives miserable, if they so chose to. Which, with Maggie, they did. Somehow despite their being removed from the hallowed halls of Wicked’s Rest High School for so many years now, Ally and Matty and their little flock of cronies had not grown up. Not even a little. Sure, they might have jobs that paid better than hers, they might be living as adults- maybe their IDs finally matched their actual age. But in terms of maturity, they were still the bullies they had always been.

“Magnooooooliaaaaaa….” Allison’s voice rang out, syrupy sweet as she sauntered over in her perfectly matching athleisure. “What’s in your little book Magnolia? Still drawing your imaginary friends?” The group of them leered over the girl, casting shadows over the quickly shut notebook. Maggie wondered if she could treat the girl like a bear and simply not make eye contact. Maybe pretending like she didn’t exist would send her, Matty, and their gaggle of little minions away. So she stared at her feet, not uttering a word.

Unfortunately, it did not.

Matty whispered something- she couldn’t tell what- and suddenly the notebook was wrenched from the young woman’s hands before she could think to hide it. The tall boy held the notebook high above her head, turning through pages and pages of animals and creatures, real and fake. He snorted and showed it to one of the minions- Vanessa- before crowing. “We’ve got a walking crocodile! She doesn’t know that crocodiles don’t walk on two legs-”

The pages were crumpling. Some were tearing as he flung the book around from side to side, showing his friends and mocking her. All the while, Maggie’s eyes burned. Her pulse roared in her ears, muffling their jeers. The words she wished she were brave enough to say sat like a stone in her throat.

Suddenly, the shade Matty cast over her was gone, replaced by sunlight once more. Her notebook- a bit worse for wear- was held out just in front of her. Immediately, she took the book into her hands and took a few steps away. Maggie flipped through the pages to survey the damage. She could not conceal the little whimper that escaped her lips when she got to the page of the alligator she’d been working on. Ripped. Crumpled up and torn right down the middle.

When she looked back up, Ally was yanking Matty away, and the rest of their group was quick to follow. Standing alone in the place they had been was a stranger. Maggie quickly wiped at her eyes with the back of her hand, forcing a smile back onto her face. It didn’t matter that she wanted to go home and crawl under the covers and cry. She could pretend for a few more seconds that everything was fine and at least thank the stranger for their intervention. “Uh... thanks… for that. You didn’t have to…”

Watching them go for a moment (making sure they didn’t gain courage to do something stupid the more distance the group put between themselves and Wyatt), he eventually turned back around to see Maggie smiling at him, teary-eyed. “Ah! I'm so sorry—” He quickly ducked down to gather the pages that had fallen to the ground, handling them carefully as he picked them up, straightening them in his hands as he moved back toward her. His gaze dropped to the sketchbook she was clutching, and he recognized more art of himself on the page, art she must have drawn after leaving the creek that day.

“Hey, that's really good,” he remarked, passing her the loose pages. “I mean, all of it is—seriously! D'you do art professionally? You should.” He was wearing a warm smile as he said it, shrugging with one shoulder. “Easier said than done, I know.” He pointed at the drawing of himself, a knowing smirk passing over that wide grin. “You see that guy ‘round here?”

Loose pages with footprints, scuffs, tears… how much work had they wrecked? Just in a few minutes of their stupid taunting? The girl wanted to scream. She hated that she could never force herself to be brave enough to tell a bunch of peaked-in-high-school bullies that she didn’t care what they thought. She hated that instead of grabbing her sketchbook and whacking one of them upside the head with it, Maggie’s eyes burned with tears and her body froze in place. Most of all, Maggie hated that even now, looking up at some stranger who had helped, she couldn’t convince herself to believe his kind words and compliments.

Dark brown eyes dropped their gaze, unable to keep the forced smile up in the man’s direction. Maybe if she pretended to look over her art, Maggie thought, he wouldn’t notice. “It’s just doodles and sketches…” Dammit, even her voice sounded defeated. When he pointed at the drawing of Mister Gator- the one that was half-watercolored, the one that was now ruined- she had to swallow hard to keep from losing her shit and simply bawling on the sidewalk. Maggie wished she were with Mister Gator now. She could cry in front of him, and he wouldn’t judge her. She could be herself in front of that alligator, and those bright intelligent eyes would smile at her and then everything wouldn’t seem so shitty.

She tucked the sketch up against her chest, hugging it tight. As if that might fix it. “I did- you don’t… you don’t have to be nice just because they were mean. I appreciate you stepping in… they would’ve wrecked more of my stuff- but…” The girl’s voice trailed off, words abandoning her.

“Hey, c’mon now. All my friends will tell you, I ain’t a nice guy unless I mean it,” Wyatt drawled with a chuckle. “I’m bein’ honest! You wouldn’t call a stranger a liar, wouldja?” This poor thing was in desperate need of cheering up, and as endeared as he was to her, he knew one thing at least that ought to do the trick, if their previous interactions were anything to go by (unbeknownst to her).

Sitting down on the bench where Maggie had been before those idiots had come along, Wyatt patted the empty space beside him. “You got a minute to tell me more about that fella you been paintin’? I wanna hear about it.” He gestured vaguely at the town around them, giving a shake of his head. “I mean, it’d hardly be the weirdest thing to be spotted ‘round here, right? Give me the benefit of the doubt, kid. I’m curious.” Yes, he was asking about himself, and yes, someone would probably call that vain, but he knew this girl had bonded with the creature she’d been drawing. And the way her face had lit up by that creek in the woods when he sat down beside her, he knew she had to want to tell someone, if she hadn’t already. His only goal was to help her feel better, he’d insist.

But maybe also he did want to hear someone say nice things about the beast he felt was the real him. Maybe. There’d be no admitting it.

He was right. Maggie would not call a stranger a liar. It wouldn’t be fair- especially when he had already gone through the trouble of being menacing enough to get rid of her tormentors. Big brown eyes finally looked up a little, just enough to see the man’s face. He said he wasn’t a nice guy unless he meant it. But she knew that wasn’t true just from one look. She didn’t know why, but something in his eyes was comforting.

Her fingers brushed across the torn page of her notebook, across the mostly finished illustration of Mister Gator. It was starting to feel like the alligator she’d found down by the creek had become one of her best friends in town… “I… I need to come up with a better name for him,” The girl sniffled as she flipped through to find a less damaged drawing of the creature. “But he’s real. I call him Mister Gator, because I think he’s a gentleman.” Maggie landed on a page with a detailed sketch of the alligator-cryptid’s face. She’d watched Mister Gator for as long as she could in order to drink up every little line and curve that made up the creature’s countenance. “He’s gorgeous… and can do things I’ve never seen an alligator do. And he’s smart. So smart. It’s like he knows what I’m talking about when I go to visit him…”

The artist’s fingers trailed along the picture, seeming lost in contemplation for a moment before very carefully ripping the page out of her sketchpad and handing it to the man. “Here... For helping me out.”

“I dunno, I think Mister Gator is pretty spot on,” Wyatt chuckled. It was nice that Maggie thought he was a gentleman of all things, but then she’d not really seen what that body was capable of, had she? He’d only ever been gentle with her, happy to receive the praise and attention offered without judgment or any other understanding of who he was and what he was like outside of that moment clouding it. It was a pure thing, and Wyatt didn’t want to do a damn thing that might damage that purity. So he and his alter ego, Mister Gator, would remain separate. For both their sakes.

“Maybe he does, cher, maybe he does.” Of course he did, but he couldn’t talk back. That would ruin the purity. Wyatt’s gaze dropped to the drawing he was offered, and he felt his heart swell a little bit as he looked at it. It was easy to see the care in each stroke, and coupled with the girl’s words, it made him feel appreciated in a way he wasn’t sure he’d ever been appreciated. “Thank you,” he answered softly, unable to pull his gaze away from the drawing just yet. “This is incredible. It’s for sure goin’ up on my wall.” Finally, the shifter dragged his attention up from the page to meet her gaze again, his heart breaking for her. “You tell this friend of yours I said hi, yeah? And, hey… if those couyons give you any more trouble, maybe you enlist this guy’s help, ah?” He gave the sketch a small shake. “Bet they’d be a lot more scared of somethin’ like him than a fool like me!”

Mister Gator would have liked this stranger, the girl decided. If he could appreciate a simple drawing of such a wonderful creature, then surely the man would think the living, breathing, better-than-an-alligator was the most incredible thing in the world… And yet, Maggie felt strangely protective of her reptilian friend. Humans had a terrible habit of fearing and destroying things that did not (in their minds) belong. And a bipedal alligator in coastal Maine was unusual indeed. A drawing would be more than enough. And maybe, hopefully, this stranger was just being nice. And he wouldn’t go hunting for her alligator friend. One look at his face told her all she needed to know. The story of Mister Gator was safe with this man.

“I’ll tell him,” Maggie didn’t offer the words ‘I promise’, but the sentiment was there, hidden in three little sincere words. “I’ll tell him you’re a friend… just in case you run into him, too.” That way, perhaps her gator would be safe and so would the man who shooed away the couyons as he’d called them. “Thanks, Mister…” She didn’t know his name, she realized. Yet, given the situation, it felt strangely appropriate.

There was a pause while Wyatt considered offering his name — too many people in this town would make a pretty fast connection between Wyatt and a giant alligator, but he also didn’t feel right just letting her sentence hang in the air. Less would know him by his surname, he figured.

“Barlow,” the lamia responded with a soft smile. He held out a hand to her to shake, then got to his feet. “I’ll leave you to it, miss. Thanks again for the drawin’. You take care, now. And hey, you know the best way to get back at a bully? Remind ‘em of what they’re real insecure about.” He ought to fucking know, after all. “You’re young, bet you can sleuth social media for that kinda thing pretty easy.” The man dipped his head and gave Maggie a lazy two-fingered salute before turning away and moseying down the sidewalk. He made a mental note to remember the names he’d heard and see if he could figure out who exactly those idiots were, and where they lived. If a spicy comeback from Maggie didn’t deter them, he’d take care of them himself. No one was gonna mess with his biggest fan on his watch.

#. thread ;#. with ; magnolia carter #. a girl and her gator ;

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thebigoblin · 1 year

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Everything

I'm supposed to be studying for my exams, instead I wrote this. I had to do 2 chapters! (short ones, would barely take me an hour, but still!) This might be the first installment of a series. Idk, my muse is unpredictable.

Anyways... here ya go, my fellow sterek lovers <3

PS: won't be putting this on AO3 yet, I'm not opening that again till my last exam is over. Now on AO3 after some minor edits! And wowza i did not realize this thing was more 2k words lmao. I was thinking this a lil ficlet oof.

One should never fuck with a genie, otherwise they fuck with you.

How does Stiles know this? Because he's an idiot. An idiot who rubbed the lamp even after Lydia told him not to, and asked for a wish he really wishes he hadn't. And the worst part of it all?

He's all alone now.

He wakes up floating in the air. He screams, because he can see the forest floor below him, and he's definitely gonna fall so he needs to brace himself—

"Where the hell are my legs?!"

"Gone," the genie giggles. She's blue in hue, white jewels around her white eyes, and she has her teal long hair in knots the same way Stiles' stomach is now. Stiles gulps. She laughs. "You wished for this, Stiles."

And with that, she's gone.

Stiles doesn't fall, but he wishes he had. Especially when he sees his dad trudging through the forest with K9 dogs, unaware of his existence even though he shouts, cries, and yearns.

His dad looks up, but never at him. He tries to touch his dad, make him aware of his existence, but all his dad does is look terrified of something Stiles doesn't know of and unaware of Stiles' mere existence.

Finally, his dad leaves, muttering, "Stupid teenagers and stupid games."

Stiles follows, because that's the only thing he can do right now.

Turns out, this isn't 2013, and this isn't post senior year. He's in 2011, and this is the morning after Stiles and Scott had found Laura's body and Scott had gotten bitten. Except, in this freaky world, Stiles doesn't exist.

Why would Scott even go to the forest at night if Stiles didn't force him? Scott's said it himself, that if it wasn't for him Scott never would have had to endure the life he has. He could have been normal. If only Stiles wasn't there.

And in this world, Stiles wasn't.

He gets the answer the same time Melissa gets it, her mascara smudged, wedding ring on her finger, matching his dad's, both of them sitting on the couch of Stiles' childhood home.

"We haven't located him yet," his dad is saying, voice tinged with regret and fury. "That kid. What could have been so important that he went to the forest in the middle of the night? And after I told him about the body!"

So Laura is still dead, huh. He wonders why even this world is taking from Derek, but that's forgotten when Melissa says this —

"Did you ask Jackson? He knows everything that Scott does. He must know where our son is!"

Jackson and Scott are friends in this world? What even? Stiles had always believed that he was the only thing keep Scott from being cool and popular, and now he knows this to be true. If Stiles never existed, then Scott would have had a much better childhood. And much cooler people to hand out with.

"I did. He says Scott was terrified of the killer and had wanted Jackson to come over for a sleepover, but Lydia didn't let him." At least those two are still together. "And that was the last thing Jackson and Scott talked about."

Melissa looks up, staring straight at his dad. "And?"

His dad never beats around the bush. As a cop, it's much better to be blunt than to dance around the truth, and right here, right now, he's a cop delivering a bad news to a woman whose child is missing.

"And Scott had a fight with Lydia over that, apparently, and he went to cool down at his favorite spot in town." His dad pauses, and Stiles' stomach drops out.

"Where, John. Where?"

He says in sync with his dad, "In the preserve." And then in sync with Melissa, "Damn it Scott!"

Scott comes home in the evening, unscratched and alive, and it seems like he hasn't been bitten, and Stiles is glad for a moment, but then he sees things. Like Scott scrunching his face on the second floor when the main door opens and shuts, Melissa leaving for work, her worries for her son soothed. Like Scott laughing at seemingly nothing, but then Stiles goes down and sees that his dad's watching a rom-com in the living room. And most damning of all, the next day, Scott does the thing with the pen. He gives it to Allison right as she enters the class, like he heard she forgot hers — even with multiple walls and a good amount of distance between where that conversation happened and where Scott was sitting in the class.

And then Stiles realizes, he never had anything to do with this. It was Scott's destiny to become a werewolf, and it doesn't matter if Stiles is there or not. It's Scott's destiny.

"His destiny was always to become a True Alpha."

He's in his not-bedroom, sitting on Scott's bed, contemplating his original wish. He was upset at the time; Scott had reinforced his belief of Stiles ruining his life, and he'd just found out about the genie lamp Lydia ordered from... somewhere. It was like fate, him wishing to never exist, so that the people in his life could have a better life without him.

He's contemplating whether or not that wish was even warranted, and what are all the implications of him never existing in this world, what else changes, and if it doesn't really; that's when the genie decides to come back, a somber look on her face.

"He wasn't."

She scares the shit out of him, her hand on his knee, comforting but cold. He shrieks, and she gives a little smile, shakes her head. Repeats, "He wasn't meant to be an Alpha."

And Stiles tells her everything.

"Me being there... it doesn't matter. He became a werewolf in this world, because it was destiny." And, "I don't impact the people around me." And, "Nobody would miss me. Nobody. I'm just a nuisance. It's great for them that I don't exist in this world."

The genie looks at him sadly. "No, Stiles," she cups his cheeks, and he lets him, lets her wipe his tears with her thumb. It's comforting, like his mother's voice or her laugh. "That's not true. You matter. You matter in ways you don't even realize."

"Do I, really? Do I?"

"Yes. Scott was never meant to be a True Alpha, but you know who is? This person." She snaps her fingers, and they're in the charred remains of the Hale House suddenly, sitting on its burnt floor. Stiles' heartbeat quickens, and he sees him then — sad, angry, and terrified, all at once, all of it in his eyebrows, his face a marble statue carved out of a constant state of paranoia.

"Derek."

"Derek Hale," the genie agrees.

"He was...? But he gave up his powers. To save Cora. And then—"

"And then Derek's power weakened. It didn't vanish. For any other Alpha, the spark would have been depleted completely, but not for Derek."

"Not for Derek?"

"Not for the greatest Alpha to walk this land since the very first Alpha that ever existed." Stiles is too stunned to speak. All he can do is look at the Derek sitting in the corner of the destroyed living room, gripping a folded photo in his hands, looking so young yet so old. Wracked with guilt and pain, so much pain.

The genie continues.

"He is Destiny's Child. The Seed of Power, The Bloom of Prosperity. He is The Phoenix, risen from flames of blood and death and betrayal. He is the True Alpha, and for him, the power would have come back."

"Then why didn't it?" His head is spinning with all the titles, his mind hysterical over them. But he's sitting with a genie in a world that isn't his own, his legs turned to a single tail like a mermaid floating in air, and he believes now.

"Because where there is light, there is darkness. Deaton used nefarious ways to steal that Alpha Spark from Derek, and with Julia's sacrifices, the Nemeton was a powerful conduit for his malpractices of magic."

"And he gave that to Scott. But why?"

"Stiles... Derek is Power. And you? You are Knowledge. You know why."

"Seed of Knowledge... He's the brawns and I'm the brains? Geez, you make it sound like we're the two sides of the same coin." The genie just looks at him, her white eyes sparkling. He decides to not focus on that, instead thinking of an answer to his own question. And then he gets it. "Having power is great... but controlling it is even better."

"One makes you accountable, the other makes you the master."

Stiles has to admit, "Deaton is smart. Shit, does this mean Scott was manipulated all this time?"

"Perhaps. But right now, I want you to focus on this: What is your destiny? You said it youself, you're the two sides to the same coin. You, my child, were correct."

"Like I always am?"

"Like you always are," she agrees, and then they're shuffling through scenes of Stiles' life like it's a goddamn movie.

Every scene is Stiles saving Derek. Or being there for Derek. Being Pack.

When Stiles spent nearly a whole day with a dying Derek in his Jeep, and almost chopped off his arm save him.

When he let Derek lay low in his own room.

The pool.

After Boyd's death.

The time he spent the whole day at Derek's loft, deliberate and silent, a shoulder to lean on, the day of the fire's anniversary.

And on and on and on.

"That's you two, existing, side by side. Now look at this."

She shows him this world's Derek. His fate.

Derek dies by Kate's bullet, untrusting of Scott to go ask for help, and too stubborn to not haul ass into the Argent's mansion to go look for the bullet himself. Unfortunately for him, Grandpa Crazy was there, too, enjoying his meal. And then later...

"I don't- I can't- Not him, please, He can't die, I—"

They're back in his not-bedroom.

"Why would you show me that?! Why the hell would you—"

"Because you matter. Humans interact every day, and maybe sometimes those interactions mean nothing. But you and him? Each one of your interactions does mean something. Your Destiny is intertwined. You are the brain to his brawns, the brawns to his brains. You're strengths of each other in a way that Ares himself envies, that Apollo sings of, that Eros prides himself on."

"What are you saying?" This is getting too much for him, now. It's one thing to be there for each other, for him to mean something in someone's life, in Derek's life... but this? Too much.

The genie smiles, teeth and all. She has vampiric teeth, except all her teeth are long-fanged. "You are each other's."

Stiles pauses. Thinks through everything that has happened between him and Derek. They're friends. Derek is a beta and he's still the annoying human, and they're always circling each other, joking and ribbing and fighting and slamming each other into surfaces. Well, the last part Derek does to him.

They're close.

They're not in love.

"Not yet,"

"Don't tell me you can fucking mind-read." He only gets a smile in return, the full-fanged one. "Okay... moving on. What do you mean not yet? And you didn't actually complete your sentence. We are each other's what?"

"You are each other's everything." The words echo all around him, inside his skin, in his bones. They hold a weight, bearing down on his chest, arms around his body, like a tight, vicious grip, and the genie repeats, "Everything."

And that's the last thing he hears out of the genie before waking up on the preserve floor, Derek staring down at him, his eyes flashing red.

Stiles blinks up at him.

"Stiles, what did you do?"

He gulps.

"Technically, I didn't do anything,"

"Stiles!"

#sterek #derek hale #stiles stilinski #whenwordsmakesense #teen wolf #imma post this and close my phone and go to library and study. please pray for me 😭

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hereforthefanficsandromance · 11 months

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The Way He Looks at You Series I:XX

Act I: The Way He Looks at You Chapter 20: The Way He Fights for You

Read on AO3 Read on Blogger Read on Tumblr Story Master List: The Way He Looks at You Series

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Chapter Summary

You try to get back to Cal while protecting the Rebellion. Rating: 18+ Words: 3.5K

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You feel as the cruiser descends onto the planet below, there is a collective sigh of relief amongst the squadrons. Just as everyone relaxes, the ship jolts sideways accompanied by a loud boom. You grit your teeth against the force of the attack as yelling and alarms fill the air. The more experienced crew bark orders to those beneath them and run towards various stations on the large craft.

Unwilling to risk being spotted or thrown around the massive ship, you and the other fighters stay strapped into your seats. The ship picks up speed and begins traveling forward again, there are more explosions and you assume the Empire is giving chase. You really wish that you could see out a window, your instinct is to help by creating an escape plan, but you aren’t the pilot of this ship.

The sound of the cruiser firing back rings out and you hope the shields will hold off a majority of the damage. Then you hear the specific sounds of missiles being launched and dread seeps through you. It means that they likely disabled the shields on one side of the ship; something you aren’t keen on doing unless you are sure of the location of those firing back. There’s no way that those in charge would know where all the enemy fighters are located, this was a surprise attack, it’s risky.

The battle continues and the cruiser races forward not yet taking any significant damage. Then your worst fears come true when a much louder explosion comes from the belly of the ship. The lights flicker and the craft groans loudly, your stomach drops in fear. Screams ring out and you hang on tight to your belongings: the bag and the blaster.

Free fall starts and it’s always one of the worst feelings. Your insides all collectively move upwards and your eyes water at the sensation. Bracing for impact you clench your teeth tight and bow your head forward. You close your eyes to protect as much as possible against flying debris when the ship hits the ground.

The horrible feeling of falling goes on longer than you would like but finally stops as an enormous shock wave rattles your bones. The sound of the ship groaning continues and your eyes open and take in the surroundings, you need to get off this ship before it collapses further; you don’t want to be crushed. Springing into action you release the restraints securing you to the wall.

The woman next to you is alive but can’t get the restraints off, you quickly help free her and she thanks you before running towards a makeshift exit that some of the other Rebels found. You throw your bag over your shoulder and follow the crowd out the hole.

Outside isn’t much better odds than being inside a collapsing ship. Dust and smoke has already filled the air making it difficult to see much of anything. There are already a few dead bodies on the ground and red blasts hurtle towards you, cutting through the thick air. You drop as fast as you can to your hands and knees and crawl quickly to the left. Trying desperately to get cover, which you find behind a hunk of metal that fell off the destroyed ship.

Looking up at the cruiser you see the angle it’s sitting at. It’s not great and the sounds it's making is concerning, you’re worried it’s going to fall over onto you and the others taking cover nearby. You can’t get further away while under fire.

The smoke in the air suddenly reflects blue light and you turn to see Theo providing cover so that others can escape the bottleneck and exit the ship. You’d never seen him in battle and it takes your breath away to watch him protect others. He easily counters the blasts, causing them to ricochet back at the unseen enemies, the gunfire subsides significantly.

Despite being momentarily enthralled with the man you’ve loved so dearly, you know you can’t stay. Ripping your eyes away from Theo, you stand into a low crouch and run further from the ship, trying desperately to get away from the danger.

You continue to crouch-run from cover to cover, at first mostly pieces of the ship, then slowly supply crates. Not bothering to fire back with the blaster in your hands; you do not know what you’re doing out here and you really don’t want to die. The sounds of battle lessen the further away you travel.

As you get far enough away from the crash, the air has mostly cleared and you can see your surroundings. The Rebellion had been driven here, right to the doorstep of an Imperial Base. They knew you were coming, and they knew Theo would be on that ship, they intended to kill him.

Your heart aches as you realize the gravity of the situation. On the one hand, you could sneak your way through the base, and find a ship to make your way back to Cal. But knowing that Theo is walking into his own end keeps you from running. If you are pregnant with his child, letting him die would destroy you.

Then an idea hits, the Fifth Brother is the one running this attack, as gross as it is, he has shown an interest in you, you could distract him. It could be enough to give Theo and the Rebels a chance. Another impulsive decision, but you won’t turn you back entirely on the Rebellion.

The thought makes your skin crawl but it would allow you to achieve both goals. Theo would be safe and you would have a way back to Cal, surely Fifth would return you. Even if he didn’t, there’s no way he could hide you from Cal for long. You try not to think about what being held prisoner by Fifth would mean for you.

You peak around behind some supply crates and see a side entrance being guarded by a couple stormtroopers. It’s not ideal, but you can probably get past them, there’s only two.

Glancing around to ensure no one is looking, you strip off the borrowed clothing. You pull your items out of the Rebellion bag then stuff the incriminating clothes in between a couple of crates.

You pull on the dress and quickly tie it behind your neck. Next you place the leather satchel around your body, then wrapping the cloak around your shoulders and clasping it at your throat. As you do, you remember the first time Cal dressed you in that alley. The way his fingers brushed along your skin as he secured it on your body. He always made you feel like the center of the galaxy when you were alone, you craved him.

You could abandon Theo, go straight for Cal, damn be anything that kept you apart from him. But something tugs you towards Theo still, maybe it’s because he is a good man regardless of your feelings for Cal. It’s the goodness in you that makes you care, but it feels like something else too. It’s not love, you’re sure. Because you know you love Cal, and your feelings about Theo aren’t remotely similar.

Sighing, you glance around the crates again; you have a blaster, but no training. Maybe you could shoot one stormtrooper, but your ability to fire off another accurate shot before the second one started firing is slim. You are no soldier, but you have some power here, your status with Cal gives you power.

As with the other discarded items, you hide the blaster. Standing to your full height, trying to give off the aura of someone who would be with an Inquisitor, you aren’t lying, but you still need them to believe you.

The cloak makes you feel powerful, belonging to Cal adds to that. You raise your chin and stride out from behind the crates with as much confidence as you can muster. The stormtroopers point their weapons at you the moment you come around the corner.

“Hey! You can’t be here!” One of them yells.

You try to ignore the blasters that are trained on you, “I most definitely belong here.”

“Stop walking or we’ll shoot!” The other says.

You stop walking and roll your eyes dramatically, trying to appear more impressive than you feel. “Is that anyway to treat the property of the Thirteenth Brother?” You ask.

They don’t lower their weapons but they turn their heads to look at one another and speak more quietly. “Do you know anything about this?” The left one asks the other.

“No, the only Inquisitor stationed here is Fifth Brother.” The one on the right says back.

You cut in, “I’m aware, I was on that ship that just fell out of the sky. The Rebellion kidnapped me from Thirteenth Brother. I’m just trying to get back.”

They are both looking at you and seem a little more unsure about how to proceed, both their weapons no longer aimed properly. You take that as an invitation and move forward, they quickly raise their blasters but slower than before.

“We can’t just let you pass.” The one on the right says timidly. “If you’re lying…”

“Of course!” You purr, “I’m sure the wrath of Fifth would be quite terrible if you misjudge this situation. I could use an escort, take me to him then.”

“Well, we can’t leave this post,” comes another half hearted response.

You click your tongue, “Then I suppose we are in quite the predicament. I can’t pass and you won’t escort me. I’m sure that Thirteenth Brother would like to know of your determination to follow orders, even at his expense.”

If you didn’t hate the Empire so much, you might actually feel bad for threatening them with such an impossible decision. But you couldn't care less about their lives when Theo’s is at stake, and they are actively preventing you from getting to Cal. It’s easy to tell they are trying to convince themselves to help you as they speak to one another.

“It might get us promoted if we take some initiative.” One says.

“We keep getting overlooked, this could make us stand out. Plus, this post gets no action, no one is even going to come through here.” The other replies.

You help them along, “I will let the Thirteenth Brother know how very helpful you two were. I am quite valuable to him.”

That was all the motivation they needed, they lower their blasters and stand aside so that you may walk between them as they escort you through the base.

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I am walking up to the rear of the base when I hear the roar of a large cruiser that is flying much too fast and low to the ground. I look up and watch as a Quasar comes into view being herded by a large group of TIE Fighters and a Victory Star Destroyer behind it. Watching in horror as an anti-air fires at the belly of the ship. They weren’t shielding in the front in order to fire their missiles and the blast takes out a sizeable chunk of the underside of the vessel.

I am frozen in place as the ship crash lands behind the base. The moment it is out of view I run forward, the stormtroopers at the back entrance see me approach and move to get out of my way. The quickest way to her will be through the base so I charge ahead.

I can still feel her, she’s alive, but they are likely under fire, some idiot stormtrooper could kill her. The thought is more than I can bear and it feels as though I am running out of time. I haven’t felt so much fear since before my status as an Inquisitor. As if all the power I now hold means nothing when I could lose her in the flash of an eye.

I’m running through hallway after hallway, most are empty because of the battle which makes my job easier. I can sense that Fifth is somewhere in the base, I’m surprised that he isn’t waiting for the Jedi, perhaps he intends to let the Jedi come to him. It isn’t my concern, nothing else matters at this moment.

I continue moving as quickly as I can; I know I am close as the hallway in front of me is full with smoke. There is a blue glow growing closer, blocking my path and I know exactly who is approaching.

The Jedi, he has been nothing but a thorn in my side these past few days. How I would love to dispose of him, but being locked in battle is too great a risk. It’s cowardly, but hiding may be the best option. I turn to go back down the hall, intending to wait for him to pass.

“Cal Kestis! I thought I sensed you.” The Jedi yells out.

Turning back I still can’t see him, but of course he’d be on high alert, using the Force to feel out his enemies. I can’t get stuck here, I need to get to her before it’s too late. At this moment, I must play the part and pretend this is what I wanted.

“I was hoping you’d be here, you’ve taken something from me and I’d like her back.” I snarl as the Jedi comes into view. Quickly activating one end of my lightsaber, pointing the red glow out and towards the floor.

“I’m afraid I can’t help you with that, but I’ll let you know that she’s quite safe.” Theo responds, a victorious smile on his face.

“Safe?” I yell back incredulous. “What part of bringing to this battle was safe?”

Theo spins his lightsaber once to the side, before brandishing it in front of him, preparing to duel. “I didn’t bring her here, that would be stupid.” He grins, “I’m quite glad to run into you, you’re a threat to her, a threat I intend to eliminate.”

“Oh, but she is here, don’t you feel her?” I don’t yet raise my lightsaber, hoping to throw the Jedi off so that I can attack more easily.

Theo stiffens, contemplating my words, I see the moment his guard is down, as he reaches out with the Force to confirm if I know something he doesn’t. I race forward and as I near; I swing the blade across my body to grab it in both hands. In one motion I grasp the hilt and raise it while rotating the blade downwards to strike out at Theo.

He blocks the first attack easily but as I slam downwards, the second blade activates and I rotate my body to the right to attack again quickly with the newly available blade.

Theo wasn’t expecting it and cannot retaliate while I follow the motion spinning towards the right. As I turn my back, I release the two blades from one another and throw the left lightsaber a couple inches from my hand to adjust my hold on the hilt. I then swing both blades in parallel arcs but Theo had already braced for the impact, blocking both my swings.

I am suddenly knocked backwards a few feet as I see his left hand extend with his palm out. The frustration pushes me forward and I begin overhand swinging each blade down in quick succession, trying to find an opening in the Jedi’s parries. He blocks each swing with ease and jumps backwards when I try to change my attack style again.

“I’ve never seen a lightsaber do that before, perhaps I’ll keep it after this is over. If my child ends up being force sensitive, they’ll need a lightsaber of their own. It’s fitting for it to have belonged to the man who wanted them dead.” Theo taunts while back in his defensive position.

Rage fuels me and I charge forward and begin swinging from the center of my body outwards, trying to push aside his single blade far enough to have an opening for my other lightsaber. He blocks repeatedly with his blade pointed downwards, preventing much movement despite the power of my attacks.

I can feel myself tiring of the repeated strikes and the Jedi seems to notice. There is a moment where I do not strike as quickly as I had before and Theo flips his blade swinging it at my neck from the right. I do not have enough time to raise my blades to block the incoming attack. So I am forced to roll out of the way and try to stand as quickly as I can.

“She is going to die in that collapsing carrier if we stand here any longer.” I yell, feeling frantic.

The Jedi seem effective in his defense, clearly waiting for openings before attacking. He cannot trap me in this battle when so much is at stake. Under any other circumstances I would quite enjoy taking my time in killing him, but the additional stress is causing me to move too forcefully and tire quickly.

“She isn’t here, Cal.” Theo says, though his confidence falters and he continues to speak. “Anyone alive made it out.”

I feel out for her toward the ship, but the Jedi is right, no one is alive in that direction. I get the distinct feeling that she is still alive. She must have left the area, she would know the move far away.

I am sure she wanted help, that’s why she sent us the coordinates. She must be trying to find another way in, to return to me. I am wasting my time with Theo, I will kill him soon but yet.

I turn and run as quickly as I can in the other direction, deactivating my lightsabers as I move. I take a right turn down the nearest hallway trying to scan the perimeter for any sign of her presence. I hear Theo yelling after me but he does not pursue; he is Fifth’s problem after all.

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The stormtroopers lead you to the center of the base, and they glance at one another before pulling open the doors to bring you into the large room. You see Fifth Brother look up in a sneer, the moment he sees you his expression changes. A genuine look of surprise comes over his face and he strides towards you.

“So you’re taking my offer I see?” He says, stopping in front of you. “I’m touched.” His eyes slide from your face down the expanse of skin between your breasts, you grimace in response.

The trooper to your right speaks up, “She showed up on the west maintenance entrance, claims she was on the Rebel ship that just went down, says they kidnapped her.”

Fifth dismisses the troopers, “I assume you wouldn’t have left the post unguarded with Rebels at our door.”

The stormtroopers hesitate, and Fifth gestures for them to leave. They quickly exit the room, leaving you alone with the Fifth Brother.

“Kidnapped? How interesting.” He says calmly, but he doesn’t look convinced.

“I’m just trying to get back to the Thirteenth Brother, where I belong.” You say, trying to keep the confidence that you had earlier. But Fifth is much smarter than a couple of stormtroopers, and the act is hard to maintain.

“Tell me, what would the Rebellion want with you?” Fifth asks.

You hesitate, suddenly at a loss for words. Fifth stares at you with a smirk on his face watching several fearful expressions float across your features. You realize this may have been a terrible idea. Originally you thought you could keep Theo safe and get back to Cal in one plan, but now you aren’t sure that you will make it back to Cal.

“Having trouble coming up with a reason?” Fifth says as he saunters towards you.

He places a finger under your chin, forcing you to look at him, “Is it because you’re one of them? Is that where Thirteenth found you?” He shows his teeth and it feels more like a threat than a smile.

“You must have so many secrets in that pretty little head of yours. I’m sure they are all very useful, you probably know the whereabouts of a few Jedi as well?” He continues to torment you with words.

Panic overtakes you, and your body trembles. Your mouth becomes dry and you struggle to find words to save you from this predicament. You realize you may never be free again, they will steal every piece of information from you and then you’ll likely die.

The door slams open and Theo charges inside, his blue lightsaber already drawn. Fifth springs into action, grabbing you and using your body as a shield, his lightsaber activated and humming near your throat.

“No!” Theo yells, “I thought he was lying! Why are you here?”

Conflicting emotions fill you, horror at being used as a shield, and knowing you failed to keep Fifth from Theo. But your mind still finds space for excitement at Theo’s words. Cal knows you are here, you’ll see him again.

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Next Chapter: The Way He Reunites with You

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timchalamet-devoted · 2 years

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Is this my chance?

A/N: I actually wrote this one a while back, but thought I'd share it anyways ( I'm pretty sure it was right after Tim flew to London)

This fic is set in London, however, feel free to change it when reading so it fits you better 🤗

Summary: While on the lookout for Timothée, who has been rumoured to be seen in London, the reader collides with a stranger. This turns out to be greatly in her favour, however.

Pairing: fem reader x Timothée

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You had dreamed forever of meeting him, even catching a glimpse would satisfy you; and now it might be your chance.

Of course, you didn't want to get ahead of yourself, as that would only lead to disappointment, but you couldn't help it!

Your entire being was buzzing with excitement and hope at the thought that he was here. In London. Where you were. This could be your chance.

You managed to figure out that it had been around two days since Timmy flew over to this city of yours, and never once had you stopped looking out for him, eyes scanning every crowd, in anticipation of spotting his familiar figure.

It was now the weekend, and you took this time to go out with your best friend, combining that with the task of finding Timmy.

You had an excellent girls' day out all planned, and the first thing on your agenda was eating at that one expensive restaurant that your friend has been begging to go to for months now.

It was located in an area you had surprisingly never been to previously, therefore the two of you were forced to take out Google maps to assist you in finding your way, for your attempt to get there on your own had gone quite poorly.

You turned a corner just before the required building, eyes focused on the GPS. Thud!

Your thoughts were cut short as your body collided with somebody else's, collapsing onto them as they crashed down to the floor, pained groans leaving your lips.

'I'm so sorry! I was so concentrated on the GPS, I wasn't looking; I hope I didn't hurt you too badly?'

You came back to your senses, conscious of where you were, wincing at your ignorance.

'No, no! I wasn't looking either, are you alright?

He apologized hastily as he peeled himself off the pavement, gently helping you up too.

At his voice, your head snapped up. Your eyes were met with his green ones, his untamable chocolate curls, and him.

Your eyes widened in complete horror as you felt the last of your breath leave your lungs. Your hands in his clamped up, as you came to the realization that you just tackled Timothée, the one you had been searching for so long, your love, right to the ground. Your body on top of his, him reaching out his hand and grasping yours, your fingers touching his for the first time; those moments flashed before you as you stared back at him.

'Timothée...'

You finally managed to breathe out, releasing the tension and allowing a huge grin to fill your face as it sunk in that you had found him. You were standing there with him. And he was smiling right back at you.

Tears threatened to spill as you whispered "you have no idea how long I've wanted to meet you. You mean so much to me, I love you, truly."

You knew it was rash, you could see it in his reaction that he wasn't used to that sincerity and bluntness, but you needed him to know. You needed him to know that you stood behind him, and loved him unconditionally and with your whole heart.

After a beat of silence, he let your hands fall to your sides, as he softly grabbed your shoulders, pulling you to himself, into a tight embrace, his scent overwhelming your senses. You wrapped your arms around his neck, pushing yourself further, radiating your love. You didn't know what would happen next, perhaps you would just part ways as if nothing happened, or perhaps there would be something more. But all you knew was that it could be your chance.

And you had to seize it.

#timothee #timothee chalamet #timothée #timothée chalamet #timothee imagine #timothee x reader #timothee x y/n #timothee fluff #timothee blurb #timothee chalamet london

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heroofshield · 10 months

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Whumpcember Day Four; Hidden Injury (Mass Effect, Vega/Ryder)

@whumpcember @anderfels

Warnings: canon type violence

The sound of a banshee screaming in the distance made everyone in the squad pause, realizing that they weren't as alone as they thought. The planet was nearly abandoned, those who used to live on it either escaping as Reaper forces attacked or killed in the battles.

"Better hurry it up." Rose Shepard said, turning back to face the structure that they'd located the flags in. "Sounds like the party's headed our way. Vega take our six, Ryder keep those biotics ready, I'll make sure no one's waiting for us inside."

Slowly making her way inside, Rose cautiously cleared the inner vestibule- signalling that it was clear. James Vega and Anna Ryder followed and they effectively made their way room by room, making sure there wasn't a stray husk or anything else waiting for them. Signalling the all-clear once they'd make it to the last room without any surprises, Shepard lowered her rifle but didn't put it away. "Did EDI say where the flags would be?"

Anna shook her head as she clenched her hands to dispel her biotics, "No ma'am. And I didn't spot anything as we cleared the building."

"Hmm. Lets do another sweep, maybe we missed something."

"We didn't check the basement, if there is one." James suggested, knowing that an administrative building like this would defiantly have a basement that they'd store unneeded items until they had to dig them out again for whatever reason.

Anna opened her omni-tool to go over the schematics of the building that had been sent to her and rotated them until she paused. "There is a basement and a sub-basement. If I remember correctly that's where the General said they'd be."

"I knew there was a reason we brought you along Corporal." Rose smiled, even though she knew that probably neither of them could see it through their helmets. "Why don't we split up; I'll take the basement and the two of you take the sub-basement, it'll be faster that way."

"You sure Commander?" James knew that Shepard could handle herself, but at the same time they didn't know if anything was waiting for them down there. And if husks were down there...well anyone could get overrun quickly by those fast fuckers.

Rose nodded her head, "I'm sure. I'll even radio if there's trouble."

The sub-basement looked like someone hadn't been down there in a long time. Cobwebs and a thick layer of dust made James glad he had his hardsuit on. "At least I won't get tetanus." he thought as they stared at the rows of items.

"I take left, you take right?" Anna asked, looking over at James and smiling. They'd just started sleeping together while on shore leave and more than once she'd caught herself staring at James while he was working out or doing inventory in the cargo bay. She knew that he was her commanding officer, but at the same time she'd always done reckless things-and sleeping with a superior was only another in a long list.

"Sounds like a plan." James said, starting towards the right- but not before watching Ryder walk away. He knew they were on a mission, but at the same time he couldn't help it; the way her armor framed her body made him think about all the things they could do the next time shore leave was granted. Slightly clearing his throat to refocus, he turned to the task at hand.

Halfway down the row, James paused thinking he'd seen what they were looking for but it turned out to be some old uniforms. "How's the search going Ryder?"

"As thrilling as an elcor performing Shakespeare." Anna replied, eyes skimming over the shelves. "How about you?"

James opened his mouth to reply when their comms activated and they heard Shepard say, "Found them! And we've got company."

The unmistakable screech of husks filled their ears and they both looked at each other through the shelving.

"On our way Commander." James automatically replied, turning and running towards the stairs while pulling out his pistol. A streak of blue filled his peripheral and he realized that Anna must have charged her biotics. He's also be lying if he didn't admit that she looked even more sexy with the energy around her.

In hindsight, James realized that he'd allowed himself to become distracted and wasn't watching where he was going-but in the moment he tried to open the door from the sub-basement while simultaneously exiting, and he collided with the heavy wood. His hand moved in a direction it shouldn't have and let out a flair of pain.

"You okay?" Anna asked, genuinely concerned at James smacking into the door.

"I'm good. It just stuck." James took a step back before shouldering the door, the wood giving a shark crack as it burst open. Not pausing, James strode through and spotted where the Commander was; on the other side of the landing with a medium sized box at her feet as she defended herself from husks with her pistol and knife.

Anna smiled at the sight of the husks and powered up her biotics again to speed to where the Commander was. Not pausing as she reached the Commander, she pulled out her knife as well and went for the nearest husk. She viewed it as a dance, pause and something horrible would happen. Ducking, weaving, and using her pistol when able, she tore through the husks as fast as she could.

James concentrated on the husks that Anna and Shepard couldn't reach, using his rifle to take them down. His wrist protested at holding the weapon, but he knew that he didn't have a choice at the moment. After what seemed like no time at all, the husks had been taken care of.

"Now that's done with, lets leave before this becomes a real party." Rose said, putting her weapons away and grabbing a trunk handle. "Vega, grab the other handle."

"Yes ma'am." James hesitated slightly, because he'd have to grab the handle with his injured wrist. But they needed to get out of there as fast as they could so he'd deal with the discomfort.

Picking it up sent a slight hiss of pain through his lips, but Shepard didn't ask him if he was alright so James swallowed the protest and helped carry the trunk to the LZ and onto the Kodiak.

Anna hummed to herself as she finished cleaning her knife and slipped it back into the sheath. She was in a good mood and was determined to ride it out; the post-mission debrief had been short and sweet since no one had been injured and for once there hadn't been a line to the showers so she actually got hot water for once.

Placing the knife in her combat locker, Anna closed it and headed towards the main part of the cargo bay-wondering where James was and if he had anything for her to do since technically she was still on shift for the next thirty minutes. Rounding the corner she paused at hearing a hiss of pain and looked to where it'd come from.

James was sitting by one of the workbenches, but facing away and gripping his arm-his face gritted in pain.

Frowning, Anna cautiously walked up towards him and saw that his wrist was a bright red with spots lightly discolored. "You okay, Lieutenant?"

James looked up to see Anna looking slightly concerned and knew he couldn't play it off. Carrying the heavy trunk for so long had caused his wrist to flair up. Knowing that he'd catch hell from Chakwas since he didn't disclose the injury, he'd decided to just ride it out. Then Anna had spotted him and he knew that wouldn't be an option. "Not at the moment."

"Oh. Mind if I ask what happened?"

"The hand bendy part went 'ow' you know, the usual."

Anna just raised an eyebrow but didn't push the subject. "Mind if I take a look? I mean, I'm not Doctor Chakwas but I've been around my fair share of hand injuries."

"Sure." James watched silently as Anna gently took his hand and examined it, only hissing slightly when she touched the broken skin. "What's the bad news?"

"Looks like a mild sprain." She jumped up while saying, "Wait here."

James watched Anna's retreating figure and wondered what she was up to. Ten minutes later she returned, this time with an ice pack and a cloth. "Do I want to know where you got those ice packs?"

Anna just shrugged as she sat back down in front of James before folding the cloth into a square big enough to cover his wrist, setting it on his skin followed by the ice pack. "I still have my connections."

"I'll keep that in mind the next time I need something not readily available."

"Switch after five minutes and see how that feels afterwards." Anna stood, ready to leave and find some busy work until she was off shift. As she passed by James, he caught her hand and gently pulled her back towards him. "Yes?"

"Thank you." James murmured close to Anna's lips, wanting to kiss her but also not wanting to break their 'only on the Citadel' rule.

"You're welcome. And you can make it up to me next time we're on the Citadel." Anna replied just as softly, trying to ignore how her heart fast her heart was beating at how little space there was between them.

"I'll keep that in mind."

#whumpcember2023 #mass effect #james vega #rose shepard #commander shepard #annabel ryder #vega/ryder #my writing

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bookofbolden · 3 months

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TIMING: Current LOCATION: The Common PARTIES: Charlie ( @zombiebabysitter ) & Eleanor SUMMARY: Eleanor runs into an emotionally charged Charlie and despite a rocky introduction a friendship is born. WARNINGS: Death mention

Eleanor had learned to allow herself at least an hour every other day to leave the apartment with her notebook and visit any nearby location where she could sit and jot down random ideas that came to her with the hopes of being able to add them to her novel somehow. She’d learned that forcing herself to come up with the more meticulous details of the novel made her frustrated with herself and the project as a whole, especially whenever she came up empty-handed; if she became frustrated or felt that she had to force herself to write then the passion behind what she was doing would be gone. Sometimes the words just didn’t flow the way they typically did which was why the fresh air and change of scenery did wonders on her slower days.

The Common was as good a place as any for Eleanor to both get out of her apartment and to draw some inspiration for settings. It was blatantly obvious that the fictional town in her book was heavily inspired by Wicked’s Rest so anytime she was able to just sit and observe was time well spent. She chose a spot to herself where she could be just far enough away from others that their emotions didn’t block her creativity but also close enough to be aware of what those emotions were. Although she craved the silence of being around those she couldn’t read, it still left her feeling lopsided and like she was missing a piece to a very important puzzle.

Positive emotions ran rampant within the vicinity and the empath smiled to herself as she opened up her notebook and jotted down some bits of dialogue that she thought would be a nice addition to the story. She had become completely focused on her writing when the various good moods around her were dampened by one incredibly heavy feeling. Frowning, Eleanor looked up and saw a face she didn’t recognize and realized that it was the person who had affected her so negatively. As he drew closer her head almost began to ache and she slammed her notebook closed.

“Are you okay?”

Charlie often found himself in the Common, writing down lyrics as they came to him. It had become a lot harder for him since he had to start writing his music, but he was doing his best. Today was a writing day, not a music day. So he sat on a spread-out blanket, legs criss-crossed over each other as he muttered different lyrics under his breath, trying to get something that sounded right. He was frustrated. Sometimes, lyrics came easy. But lately? They didn’t. It was hard to write, and it was harder to find inspiration for what to write about. How many songs could he write about losing his friends? How many times did he have to be miserable before he finally allowed himself to be happy?

It was easy to get caught up in his own head, the memories of past events coming into play. He should be happy with what he had, but… what about the things he didn’t? It was all too much to deal with, and he threw his notebook down and buried his face in his hands before getting up and starting to pace, coming close to a woman who quickly called him out on his piss-poor mood. “What?” Charlie blinked owlishly, pointing to his chest. “I… uh.” He thought he was better at hiding his emotions than this. It was easy to have an outer appearance of being fine when on the inside his mind was on fire.

He stared at the woman a little longer, unsure how she was so sure he wasn’t okay. “I’m just… dealing with some shit right now. It’s making it hard to write.” Charlie admitted, taking a few steps backward from her. “Sorry, I’ll… go back to my spot.” He muttered and gestured over his shoulder to the abandoned blanket and notebook. “Sorry,” he said again, walking back over to his blanket and sitting back down, suddenly unsure if he should go back to what he was doing or if he should call it quits for the day. Words just weren’t working.

Eleanor felt instant regret when the man explained himself but an intense wave of interest after hearing his words was stronger. “Wait!” She reached out her hand as though to stop him then watched as he went back to this blanket and sat down again looking as though he were a scolded child. “I am so sorry, I don't know where that came from. I promise that I’m not usually an… asshole.” She was an adult but still found it hard to curse sometimes. It was just another quirk about herself that she wished she could get over. “Things aren’t that great for me either, I should really be more considerate of what others are going through - I’m so sorry.”

She tilted her head as she continued to observe the stranger. “Excuse me, but did you say that you’re writing something? I’m also writing. I’m pretty deep into my novel and I have a deadline that seems far away but I know that if I don’t double down and get it done then I’ll miss it.” Eleanor stopped herself before she could continue on yapping and smiled at the man. “I’m stressed, I think. That’s why I reacted to you the way that I did, although that’s not an excuse whatsoever - could we please start over?” While it physically pained her to be near so much emotional pain she forced herself to her feet and made her way over to his blanket and held out her hand.

“I’m Eleanor, writer and curious cat. What’re you writing, if you don’t mind me asking?” She wanted to get to know more about him mostly because he interested her but also because she thought that if she could learn more she might be able to quiet the storm that so obviously brewed inside of him. She really needed to stop thinking that she could “fix” people but if those around her were sailing calm waters then so was she. Really, getting her new acquaintance to calm down was a win-win situation.

The woman called out to him, and Charlie found himself looking over at her, expression far more guarded than it was before. “Yeah? I’m usually not in a shitty mood, so I guess we’re even.” He replied with a soft shrug of his shoulder before turning his body so that he was facing her but stayed on his blanket instead of walking back over. He wasn’t that far from her, not really. “I think a lot of us around here have shit we’re not dealing with, it’s kinda par for the course.” He squinted over at her, the sun right behind where Eleanor sat.

Then, she showed interest in his writing, talking excitedly about her own writing. Unable to help himself, Charlie gave a soft smile. Usually, it was him that was a constant stream of words, but this time it was someone else. It was kind of nice to be the quiet one for once. Well, for now, anyway. He felt his turn to yap coming on. “Oh, yeah I’m… yeah.” He said lamely, patting his discarded notebook with a somewhat tense smile. “Between you and I? I’m always stressed.” He gave her a playful wink before opening his notebook back to the page that he was last on. It was a song about Gareth. Sometimes writing out the pain made it easier to bear.

Charlie watched as Eleanor got up and thrust out her hand toward him, introducing herself. “I’m Charlie, musician and expert yapper.” His eyes flashed with amusement, the tense smile turning into a full smile before hopping up from his blanket and shaking her hand. “I’ve got a bit of a serious music career on my hands,” he admitted. “I lost my bandmates in a bit of an attack,” he explained vaguely. “Turns out when tragedy strikes, your fanbase triples in size overnight.” He brushed the hair out of his eyes, a storm behind them.

While he gave off the vibe of a happy-go-lucky dude, he was deeply troubled by the loss of his friends. He was trying to work on shoving it away, with the Finn of it all, who was able to sense his emotions. He frowned, realizing that he’d been a bit more outward with his emotions here in the park than he meant to. “Sorry for… the sad sack of a man of it all that I was displaying to you.”

Eleanor tilted her head as she nodded slowly. “I hadn’t thought of it that way but yes, you’re right. I think a lot of my friendships have come about because of trauma bonding but I won’t be complaining about it anytime soon, at least I’ve made friends. That’s what concerned my parents most when I’d announced that I would be moving somewhere we didn’t know anyone.” She shrugged. “All of us have our days, I’ll forgive you for being an asshole if you forgive me for being one first.

“I can tell.” Eleanor answered too quickly then backtracked. “I meant, I could tell by how you were pacing and your shoulders. Really… tense?” It came out as more of a question and she mentally kicked herself for having once again put her foot in her mouth. “Writing helps me a lot too, it gets me out of my head and into someone else’s - for a couple of hours every day I get to leave behind whatever’s bothering me and go into a world of magic and monsters that won’t actually hurt me, you know?” She tried to stop talking but found that she couldn’t, she enjoyed his company more now that the walls had been let down. “Is that corny to say? I feel like that’s very, very corny.”

Eleanor laughed at the titles he gave himself. “Well then, I think we’ll get along just fine, Charlie. I’m sure you’ve noticed by now that I have a hard time shutting up once I get going. Also, I’m pretty sure we’ve spoken before online. Actually I’m sure of it, you’re the rockstar! Now would be the perfect time for that autograph.” She joked lightheartedly but then her smile fell. “Oh no, I’m so sorry to hear about that!” Her curiosity made her want to ask what kind of attack had taken his bandmates from him but decided that it was in poor taste to ask. Maybe one day she’d find out.

When they shook hands her stomach lurched and she had to do everything in her power to remain emotionless against it. Grief swallowed Charlie, that much Eleanor could tell from the brief physical interaction, and she knew instantly that it had everything to do with his friends. It made the question burn on her tongue even more but she swallowed it back because she refused to be rude.

“The world is full of curious people, why do you think interest in true crime has really taken off in the past few years? People are fascinated by tragedy and grief, it's a bit morbid to be completely honest. But again, I’m very sorry to hear of your tragedy - I know we’ve just met but if there’s anything I could ever do to help in any way all you have to do is reach out. It’s kind of my thing, helping people. I get told all the time that I should have become a therapist instead of a writer.” Eleanor had challenged every person who’d presented that idea to her as well, stating that perhaps if she didn’t need so many therapists herself then she might have looked into the profession more seriously. “No need to apologize, there’s no judgment from my side. Actually, I’ve had a bit of tragedy myself recently. My girlfriend…” She choked up but was determined to push through. “My girlfriend has been missing for some time now. Most days I’m just a sad sack of a woman, trust me.” She normally wouldn’t have brought it up, but she wanted Charlie to know that she understood where he came from and that she would not judge him.

After Eleanor apologized, Charlie let a small smile break out across his face. “All is forgiven,” he responded with a gentle nod of his head. “Sometimes the grief is easier to disguise than others. I guess it’s just so strong right now that it’s hard to write, which makes everything a million times harder.” He rubbed his face with his hand, making a noise of frustration when he came to the conclusion that he wasn’t going to get any writing done today. “What are you writing about? Sure you’re doing way better than me, seeing as how I wrote two words and called it quits.” He smirked, able to poke fun at his situation despite the very real frustration he felt.

Charlie’s smile softened as Eleanor talked about escaping to a world of creatures that didn’t mean any harm, not like the real world. “Well if you ever need someone to write around for a body-doubling situation, I’m always around. Though I will warn you that I mutter to myself and tap my pen on any surface I can find.” He crossed his arms over his chest with that same smile still spread on his features. “I don’t think it’s corny at all,” he decided with a shake of his head. “I think it’s beautiful, in a way. Escapism can be a real problem, but also it’s a beautiful experience to be transported somewhere else through your own imagination, you know?”

Charlie found himself letting out a bark of a laugh as Eleanor called him the rockstar, then remembered the conversation he’d had online with someone about asking if she should get his autograph. “No, you don’t want my autograph! It’s just a scribble that I pretend is my name, but it’s definitely just a scribble.” Charlie was quick to explain, a laugh in his voice as he explained himself. Then, the conversation turned dark. The light in his eyes left and the smile faded as she explained about her girlfriend.

“God, I’m sorry, Eleanor.” Charlie spoke in earnest. “My… boyfriend was the drummer. We’d been together for two years. He was killed in the attack. I’m the only one left.” Charlie shook his head, staring down at the ground as he remembered that moment when Gareth let go of his hand as he was dragged away. Charlie shuddered, and forced himself back to the present. “I’m sorry that I can relate to you in a way.” His voice was quiet and far away, struggling to pull himself to reality. “I’m… I’m always here if you need someone to talk to, or if you need someone to follow a crazy lead with.” He put a hand up, volunteering himself. “You have a friend in me.”

For a moment Eleanor wondered if Charlie was able to read her mind because of the way he so greatly described everything she felt. It had taken a while for her to get back to her keyboard and start writing again when Lily went missing because the grief had taken over everything else and left no room for the creativity that was needed to proceed with her job. In fact, at one point she had considered leaving the profession altogether because she did not believe that she would ever feel up to writing again, but one random day she woke up and was able to come up with a plot and a handful of characters and she’d made a beeline for her computer to get everything down before it disappeared again. She hadn’t stopped working since that day. “Grief is… hell, to put it very, very simply.”

Little did Charlie know, he had opened the floodgates with one simple question. Eleanor loved to talk about her upcoming novel without giving too much away, just enough to make the other person want to read it. “Oh, it’s a horror novel, the first that I’ve ever written actually. I’ve published two romance novellas in the past but this was an entirely different beast but I’ve enjoyed the entire process. I can’t even tell you the number of hours I’ve put into just research alone… it’s not that easy to jump from romance to horror but I think it’s almost healed something in me. Like, I was able to put the monsters on the page and because I’m the one writing them and nothing they do can catch me off guard… I don’t know, it's helped with a lot of real life monsters.” Literally and figuratively, but she didn’t want to get into that at the moment. “A lot of it is inspired by Wicked’s Rest itself, I don’t think I would have come up with the idea if I hadn’t moved here. There’s a handful of main characters and in the end only one survives. It’s very exciting.”

Eleanor truly appreciated his offer. “I will definitely keep that in mind. And I can assure you that your muttering and pen tapping will not bother me because my keyboard is so loud I probably won’t even be able to hear it. I like the loudest clickety ones I can find.” It had started to get scary how Charlie seemed to know exactly what she was thinking. He was right about escapism, for example, because wasn’t that the entire reason she’s started writing in the first place? She’d spent most of her childhood bouncing around to different foster homes and books were the only thing that allowed her a peace of mind and some time away from the troubles she faced. “I know exactly what you mean, trust me. When I was a kid I started to write as a way to forget - my first original story was written exclusively in green crayon.” She stated proudly.

“No need to apologize, you’re not at fault.” An intense feeling of despair squeezed at Eleanor’s heart as she listened to Charlie’s story. She thought she might be able to imagine the kind of pain he was in, she was very nearly in the same boat, wasn’t she? But Lily wasn’t… she couldn’t have been dead. She felt her presence, sometimes weaker than the day before, but still she was there. She wasn’t sure what she would do if she ever woke up and didn’t feel the love of her life. It would be the greatest loss. “Charlie, I am so sorry. I didn’t mean to have that memory pulled up, I just… I’m so sorry.” She wasn’t sure what to say and she wanted to reach out and lightly touch his arm but contained herself - she wasn’t sure she’d be able to handle the grief that would wash over her if she did. She forced a smile and nodded. “And I hope you know that the same goes for me as well. I promise I’m a good listener once I stop talking. I’m capable! But you might regret the offer to follow up on leads with me, sometimes I don’t make the best decisions.” She laughed although it was a fairly true statement. How many times had she had to be saved because of her poor decisions? “You know you’re pretty cool, rockstar, I’m glad you irritated me with your pacing or else we wouldn’t have spoken to each other.”

“Damn straight,” Charlie responded with wide eyes, shaking his head. Grief was a funny thing. Some days, it didn’t hit so hard. On other days, it was like a tidal wave pulling him under. Charlie frowned, not wanting to get lost in the idea and feeling of his own grief. Then, she was talking about her books again, about her writing process. “My first song was written in a pink glitter gel pen that I borrowed from my friend Stacey,” Charlie replied with a grin. “It was about cheese, I’m pretty sure.” He spoke, narrowing his eyes as he remembered the details. “I dunno, I was eight, and cheese was pretty damn inspiring, I guess.” He pulled a face in a ‘what can you do’ manner and shrugged his shoulders.

In truth, Charlie hated thinking about what happened those weeks ago. An event still so fresh in his mind he isn’t quite sure if he’s even begun to properly process it yet. He was able to talk about it, sure, but he wasn’t sure if he was able to fully comprehend that he’d never see his friends again, never feel Gareth’s comforting touch, or Lindz’s harsh laugh that always made him smile, no matter how much she claimed she hated it. Vik’s ability to capture any moment on camera and make it look good and not blurry like Charlie.

Charlie felt his heart squeeze at the idea of someone losing their partner, but still being alive. “I don’t think I’ve fully processed it,” he finally said aloud, voicing the truth into words. “I don’t think I’m there yet.” He scratched at the side of his face idly, more of a nervous tick than actually itching. “Maybe I’ll get there soon. I just… can’t, yet.” Charlie raised his shoulders high, clearly out of his comfort zone on talking about these things with a complete stranger to this level of detail.

Charlie cracked a smile as Eleanor talked about being glad to have met him, and Charlie nodded his head slowly, the smile growing. “Yeah, likewise, writer girl. I want to read your horror novel when it’s done. And we could also do the writing thing together, I know I could use someone to keep me focused sometimes, I’m kinda a mess with my process.” Charlie looked back to his blanket, which had his guitar and several notebooks full of words splayed out on its surface. “Yep, mess.”

“Oh, pink glitter pen beats green crayon! And cheese is pretty damn good, young Charlie was definitely onto something when he wrote that song. If you still had it, that would be hilarious to release just to give your listeners something to humor themselves with.” Eleanor had sensed that something was unresolved within Charlie before he spoke the words but she was surprised to hear him actually confess it. “I kind of picked up on that. I mean…” She’d spoken before truly giving herself time to think over her words. She wasn’t sure how someone might take the news that she was able to feel their emotions, it wasn’t exactly something she would have believed herself. “I mean in the way that you’re speaking about it. I think the most important thing to remember is that the process isn’t linear and that you’re going to have to go at your own pace, don’t let anyone rush you. Also expect to have hard days even months and years from now. At least that’s what my therapist says.” She added with a giggle.

She knew that she would never be totally over Lily, whatever path she decided to take in order to go forward with her own life, and that hurt her immensely. Eleanor had spent most of her life looking for someone who would take her as she was without asking too much of her and Lily had been that person. Perhaps selfishly she wondered if she would ever find that again and it made her even more upset to think about - she had wanted to be with the first love of her life forever but that possibility had been snatched right out of her hands. Most of the time that made her unhappy but sometimes it made her uncharacteristically angry. Why had her life been turned upside down? What had she ever done to deserve such a punishment?

Eleanor made a mental note to write down his name on her list of people who would be receiving copies of her novel free of charge. “You’ll be one of the first people to receive a copy hot off the press so expect it sometime this autumn, just in time for Halloween.” She was delighted to hear that he would actually be interested in writing together and she stood on her tiptoes out of excitement. “We can totally be a mess together, you just let me know whenever you’re ready. Editing is taking up pretty much all of my time right now so I’m literally almost always working unless I'm out here just looking for some inspiration for my writing. I can introduce you to the pomodoro method that I use, it’s been such a helpful time management tool.” Lily had once been her reminder to get away from the computer and walk around, drink some water, have something to eat, but now she relied on the timer on her computer.

She looked over at his belongings and shrugged her shoulders. “Sometimes I find a little bit of comfort in the chaos. What fun would being tidy all the time be? Those people with perfectly clean homes and clothes that have zero wrinkles or stains scare me anyway. How are they so put together?” Eleanor shuddered to emphasize her point. “I’m rambling, but what I’m trying to say is that your mess is welcome around me, I don’t judge.”

Charlie shook his head with a laugh, waving his hands. “Nah, definitely not releasing a cheese song from my younger years, I think that one will stay in the vault.” When she said she’d picked up on it, Charlie sighed, not reading too into it, despite maybe picking up on similarities between Eleanor and Finn. “I mean, yeah. You’re right.” Charlie shook his head, knowing that his facade had already begun to crack apart at the seams. It wouldn’t be long until the whole thing shattered and exposed the ugliness that lay underneath. He would fight to keep it buried for as long as it took.

“I’m just not ready to deal with it.” He decided aloud, gaze going vacant as he got lost in the thoughts that reeled through his mind. Gareth’s comforting touch, Lindz’s loud laugh, Vik’s stick-it-to-’em attitude. Charlie shook his head, trying desperately to stop thinking about it. “But if it happens, I’m glad to know that you’re there.” He gave a weak smile, one that didn’t quite reach his eyes, though he did try.

She then started talking about her method, nodding his head slowly. “Yeah, I’d be down.” He replied with a true smile, one that did reach his eyes this time. “I currently work nearly all hours of the day because it’s hard to turn off,�� he confessed. “Maybe having a schedule would make things better, though I’m sure my manager would be pissy that I don’t answer their emails immediately.” Charlie rolled his eyes at the thought.

A soft smile crossed Charlie’s face as Eleanor continued to talk. For once, it was someone else who kept talking and not him. It was nice to find a kindred spirit in someone like Eleanor. “And yours is welcome around me. I’m glad to have met you.” He thought for a moment, then pointed a finger at her. “I think you should really meet my boyfriend,” Charlie decided with a knowing look. “His name’s Finn. He’s also really good at reading emotions.” If he’d been picking up on things, he was letting Eleanor know now. He shot her a wink. “Seriously, I feel like he could learn a thing or two.”

Eleanor bit her lip to keep herself from laughing as she tried her best to appear serious. “Well if you ever decide that you want to perform it for someone I’m just a message away.” Charlie put up a good front, she had to give him that, but she could tell that he was fighting for his life trying to keep all of his emotions in check. She wouldn’t comment on it any further, not unless he decided to open up about it himself. Already the empath had a bad habit of going around and accidentally sounding like a therapist whenever she spoke with people she could feel needed a little bit of emotional support but she didn’t want to do that to him. She needed to respect his wishes to not speak about it just as those around her had respected that same wish when she’d voiced it.

“I completely understand, my publisher has a short temper.” Eleanor joked in response. “She hates when I don’t get to her emails in a timely manner and even once threatened to have my unfinished book put onto shelves just to drive home how seriously she took deadlines. We get along great, she's just not one to cross.”

Eleanor felt proud of herself for having found another friend. “I’m glad to have met you, too. Even if you did annoy me before we even spoke. I’m still so sorry about that outburst by the way.” But her smile faded when Charlie pointed at her and mentioned his boyfriend and winked at her. Truly he must have been mistaken, she’d never met anyone with the same abilities as herself. “He’s good at it too, huh?” He seemed sure of himself though so she decided to take his word for it. She had no words, just a feeling of relief that flooded her system. There’s someone else like me, I’m not totally alone. “I would love to meet him, actually. The name sounds familiar, we may have spoken online a long while ago but I can’t be certain. What’s he like?”

Nodding his head knowingly, Charlie was more sure of himself by the second. “He has this special talent for knowing exactly how I’m feeling even when I’m hiding it.” He further explained. “Fucking annoying when you’re trying to pretend everything is fine, let me tell you what.” He grumbled to himself, shaking his head in annoyance, but quickly shook it away to further address Eleanor’s growing excitement and curiosity.

When she said she’d love to meet him, Charlie beamed at her. “He’s a piece of work, that’s what he’s like. Super sarcastic and dry sense of humor.” He explained, waving a hand with a goofy grin on his face. “Despite that, he’d been my best friend for over ten years. He knows he’s got this ability, but he’s struggling with it.” He frowned, looking over to Eleanor, searching her expression for some kind of giveaway. “And if he had someone else that was like him, maybe you two could help each other out.”

“Despite being a literal empath, he’s bad with emotions. I love him dearly, but he’s always struggled with it. What he needs is a friend who understands him, and I think you could benefit from that too.” Charlie pulled his phone out and showed Finn’s account. “This is him.” He spoke as he handed the phone out to her. “Please, reach out to him. I’d be grateful. I think the three of us could be good friends, but I think the two of you could be even greater friends.”

Eleanor had to laugh because she knew exactly what Charlie meant. “I’m usually told I’m either creepy or annoying, those are the only two. I try to be helpful but sometimes it’s hard when you’re feeling everything all at once and just want it to be quiet. I sometimes think that I should have become a therapist instead of a writer but I don’t think I’d be able to handle the back-to-back negative emotions.” She felt strange speaking about her abilities so candidly but it also felt nice. Only a select few knew of what went on inside her mind but she trusted Charlie and it seemed his boyfriend truly was an empath. She couldn’t contain how happy that made her.

“We’re in luck because I have extensive experience in dealing with both sarcasm and dry humor. You two were friends for that long before dating? That’s cute, I love that! Kind of like a ‘you were always there’ sort of thing, right?” Eleanor had a bad habit of assigning certain book tropes to people in real life but it was how her brain worked and she didn’t know how to stop. “I still struggle from time to time but I’m in a much better place than I was just a few months ago. It would be my pleasure to try and help him out, and who knows, maybe he’ll be able to teach me a thing or two. I’ve never knowingly met with someone else who can do what I do. I wonder…” Her mind raced as she thought of all of the things she’d love to ask Finn. “I have a lot of questions for the poor guy.”

Eleanor knew she’d made the right decision when she made up her mind to come back to Wicked’s Rest, no where else would she accidentally find someone like herself. “I could benefit from that a lot, it’s hard speaking with people who don’t fully understand. No offense!” She took Charlie’s phone and looked through Finn’s profile. “You know what? I think I have spoken with him before but it was very brief and quite a while ago so of course neither of us knew that the other was an empath. I will definitely reach out to him! Thank you! “ Her hand shook with excitement as she handed his phone back. “We’ll have to plan something fun for the three of us to do together. Probably something lowkey, I don’t know what it’s like having two empaths together but I’m sure being out in a crowded area won’t go over well.” She nervously laughed as she thought of all the ways that could go wrong.

Charlie couldn’t help but blush as Eleanor called out a trope that described him and Finn. “Yeah, we were friends for a long ass time. I got famous and started touring, we grew apart. I came here, we reunited and here we are now.” He shrugged, then got reminded of why he ended up in the park in the first place, angry with Finn because he was nowhere to be found when he needed him, the one time he needed him. Anger and regret started to build on top of the pile of grief that was already there, making Charlie suddenly feel a hell of a lot worse.

“You could always come over to the house,” Charlie offered with a smile, forcing the wave of negative emotions deep down where he couldn’t feel them, where he could lock them away and keep them there, build a brick house around it, and leave it to rot. “Definitely not a crowd, he doesn’t do well with crowds.” Charlie filled in automatically, voice more robotic than human as he fought to control his feelings.

“I’m glad that we met,” Charlie spoke with a bright smile. “Seriously, keep in touch. I’ll be sure to bother you immediately.” He took a step back toward where his notebook and guitar were, a soft smile crossing his features. “I’ll tell Finn to keep an eye out for a message or something, seriously.” And with that, Charlie turned around and began to pack up. He needed to stop avoiding Finn, and he needed to get his act together, now that there was more than one empath in his life now.

#wickedswriting #writing: zombiebabysitter #writing: the writer and the rockstar #death tw #//caitlyn i love you and i love charlie #//i can't wait for these two yappers to get together again

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