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#ive had these four for like two days and they scare me

bassguitarinablackt-shirt · 7 months

Note

🍂🎃 happy october ash!! 🎃🍂

it is halloween season so:

what would they do if they entered a haunted house halloween game thingy (what an eloquent way to express that such intelligence/j) and what would your ocs dress up as on halloween?

also do you have any autumn book recs (or book recs in general?)

because now i feel intense envy for those with seasons since i live in eternal summer (tropical country blues *sobs*) so i need to compensate that with vicariously living through fictional characters 😔✋

Happy spooky season cristie!!!

Im gonna do this with the characters from my unnamed WIP!

Honestly these 4 in a haunted house would be...intresting. Like okay honestly their vibes would probably be enough to scare the haunted house staff. Especially Orion hed probably scare them on purpose

Orion would probably dress up as a zombie???

Ozzy would be roped into dressing up as a corpse (he objected but Nathalie persisted)

Opal would dress up as a ghost!

Nathalie would go as either Junko from danganronpa orrrr Muffet from undertale and we love her for that

Also i deeply apologize but i don't really have any book recs 😭

#thanks for the ask!#ash answers things #ashers ocs #ive had these four for like two days and they scare me #but i would also die for them #especially opal

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targaryenluvs · 3 months

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— UNCHARTED WATERS

pairings: luke castellan x daughter of poseidon!reader, percy jackson x sister!reader

summary: four months of keeping percy in the dark were over, you could only hope he’d understand your reasoning for keeping him there. or the one where percy finds a polaroid of luke and a girl eerily similar to his sister, donning not a lot of clothing.

warnings: suggestive content/photos, poor percy’s eyes, arguing, confrontation, makeups, hugs & motherly reader, protective percy

a/n: the end has come 😭 i’ve absolutely adored writing this series and i’m glad it’s here sad it’s here and sad it’s over.

taglist: @songofthesun @gayforyelena @taloulalila @honeydanny @7s3ven @sssi-nr @percabethtears @gr1mes-cc @2hiigh2cry @10ava01 @ahh-chickens @fangirl-swagg @anotherblackreader @midmourn @lovelyforesst @urfavpogue @lilacspider @mysteris-things @whoreyzontal @lunalixya @dangelnleif @wordsarelife

part i, part ii, part iii, part iv

iv. uncharted waters

luke’s mouth was currently held hostage by your hand, tightly clamped over his as you waited for the kids to pass by. you were currently hidden behind large rocks in the pond, and half-naked. “if you lick my hand i swear i will drag you under the water, and you know i can.” you whispered to him. luke’s amusement was no where near yours, you could tell by the fact that he jabbed your side which caused you to shout.

the two campers turned at the sound of distress, eyes frantically scanning the area, before turning around and continuing their way back to camp. “that was close.” luke grinned whilst you hit him, “that was all your fault! now come on, before the sun sets.”

“why, is my girl scared of the dark? don’t worry i’m right here baby.”

“am not!”

“are too!”

“am not!”

“are too!”

“you’re so annoying luke.” the two of you made your way into the cold, clear waters. the day had been pretty busy and the idea of swimming before showering all the paint and grime was nothing but appealing to you. but your peace would only last so long around your boyfriend.

“what’s that shark movie y/n? and what does the music sound like?”

“jaws? and the sounds like, dun-a, dun-a.”

you should’ve seen it coming. luke repeated the sound, as you closed your eyes and faced the sun, he waded through the water before you looked his way. he was gone.

“luke? luke where did you—,”

you screamed as luke came up from below you, tipping you face first. “what the hell!” as much as you loved to hear luke laughing all you wanted to do was drown him. “it’s one thing to mess with me above ground, but in the water?” luke’s grin was wiped off as a wave came from behind. “wait hold on—,”

it was officially your turn to laugh as luke resurfaced, gasping for air. “not cool.” you covered your smile with both hands, “kinda cool.” you murmured as he made his way to you, hands around your waist as you looked up at him. “you think that was funny?” you meekly nodded as his hand tightened, another wrapped around your neck to draw you in.

the night was fast approaching and the two of you were currently laying on the shoreline. “i knew i brought this for something.” he whipped out the camera, “you look perfect as usual, would you do me the honour of modelling for me?” you grinned, “of course.”

luke wouldn’t stop staring at the picture, the whole way back to camp. so instead of allowing him to ogle the photo the whole night you tucked it into your jean shorts. claiming the decision to be for the greater good.

if there was one difference between you and percy, it was tidiness. he wasn’t terrible but he wasn’t as obsessive as you. so imagine his surprise when you passed out, towel, shorts and swimwear laid around. “kids these days, i tell you.” percy muttered as he picked up the clothes to be washed the next day. but as he did, a certain polaroid fluttered to the floor.

“what the?” he turned it over, and then had a heartattack.

“WHAT THE F—,”

“ow! why on earth are you shouting? and no swearing.” you groaned out loud. percy stomped his way over to you then waved the picture in your face, “what on earth is this? huh?” you snatched the picture from his hand before sitting on it, “nothing, what’re you talking about?”

percy clutched his head, before dramatically flopping down on his bed, “i think my eyes need to be rinsed.” you rolled your eyes, “stop being so silly, it’s a cute photo. just not a lot of clothes.” percy quiickly sat up, “exactly! and some guys hand tucking your hair behind your ear. i didn’t even know you were dating someone y/n, let alone taking weird photos.”

you’d been caught out, it was bound to happen sooner or later so you might as well tell him. your feet hit the floor before moving over to him, “i’m sorry i didn’t tell your perce, really. i just— i didn’t want to freak you out. i wanted you to continue getting adjusted to camp and all before i told you anything about it. it happened recently, and i didn’t mean for it to but feelings… are the one thing you can’t control. i’m sorry, i really am. and i’m so grateful i have such an amazing little brother who feels like he needs to protect me but you are my little brother. i’m eighteen, and more than capable of making my own decisions.”

percy didn’t want to understand what you were saying. he wanted to go find this guy and let riptide work it’s magic. but annoyingly enough, everything you said did make sense. “fine, i won’t go maiming tonight. i’m still mad you kept it from me, don’t you trust me?” your eyes teared up at the notion, “oh god no! i mean, yes, yes i do. i trust you with every bone in my body and that’s why i knew you’d try and hurt the poor guy. you’re so incredibly strong that you’d send him packing perce.”

percy’s lips twitched, a grin forming, “i am pretty amazing arent i?” you wrapped an arm around his shoulder, “that you are brother, that you are.” he hugged you so hard that it knocked you both back onto the bed.

“i guess i won’t hunt him down today.”

“thank you percy.”

“there’s always tomorrow.” he muttered.

“no perce!” he smiled up at you before wiggling out of your arms, “who is it huh?” you covered your face before sighing, “luke.” percy’s shoulders dropped, “stuff tomorrow.” he charged out the door as you ran after him, “no wait!” coincidentally the two of you rammed right into luke, “i heard shouting, i was concerned. are you okay y/n?” you smiled as he percy huffed, “no yeah, forget about the 12 year old you pummelled over viciously. continue focusing on my sister please.”

“he knows, i told him.” luke’s eyebrows raised, the reasoning behind percy’s jabs and stare revealing itself.

“oh.”

“you’ve got ten seconds castellan.”

“for what?”

“to run.”

“what did i do?”

“that photo didn’t take itself.” percy pulled out riptide, tapping it against his other hand as you stood behind him, watching luke laugh. “he’s, he’s kidding right?” you shook your head, “he’s giving you a head start castellan, i’d advise you to take it.” luke’s smile dropped as he began to step back, “i… you’re kidding.”

“ten, nine, eight—,”

luke’s shoes collided with the floor as percy shrugged, “countings for losers.” you reached out for him but it was too late, “cheater!” luke kept looking back as you sat down infront of the cabin, you officially had two idiots to look after.

#luke castellan x y/n #luke castellan x you #luke castellan fluff #luke castellan imagine #luke castellan x fem!reader #luke castellan x reader #percy jackson x fem!reader #percy jackson and the olympians x reader #percy jackson imagine #percy jackson fic #percy jackson x reader #percy jackon and the olympians

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chrissturnsgirlll222 · 2 months

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second, never first

PLEASE READ WARNINGS

chris x fem!reader

summary - you grew up hating one guy all of high school but suddenly become friends, but as time goes on feelings develop, only its one sided.

warnings - swearing, kissing, use of y/n, mention of family issues, mention of domestic violence (NOT BETWEEN THE MAIN COUPLE), BOYS (no smut… for now lol)

word count - 2k+

a/n: this part of the story contains a scene involving domestic violence so please dont read if that is a topic that triggers you! also this part is taking place 2 weeks since the last. also i made it a little lengthy for you all <333

NOT PROOFREAD

i was fast asleep when i heard a crash from downstairs over the show i have playing to fall asleep. instantly getting up i slipped on a robe and slowly walked to my steps.

growing up in the house hold i did meant i had to be in constant fight or flight. i stood at the top of my steps with my phone in hand. looking down at it, the time reading 12:34.

“you need to learn to keep your fucking mouth shut, i am threatening you and your daughter. ever try to leave me and i will have both pf your heads.” i heard my dad yell from downstairs, my mom sobbing. common occurrence from my house hold.

“mom” i say my voice cracking up as i walk down stairs. “y/n go the fuck upstairs now.” my dad screams standing over my mom as shes sitting on the floor with both hands on her cheek as if she was just punched and her throat red. i knew my parents argued all the time but i never saw them get violent.

“i will do it.” holding my phone up i type in 911.

“sweetie you know i would never be violent, your mom just needs to be talked to like a baby since she has double left brain cells.” he switches up his tone.

“now i wont repeat myself, go to your fucking room.” he growls.

tears pool in to my eyes as i turn around.

my vision gets clouded with tears as i make my way to my room. immediately breaking down once i get to my room. feeling scared in your own house is one thing but feeling unsafe is another. i cant trust either of my parents to keep me safe anymore.

turn on my phone i call the one person who i can trust with my life, chris.

ring ri-

“hey kid whats up.” he answers. i dont say anything as i am hyperventilating, crying and shakily breathing trying to calm myself down. “y/n?” i hear him say, “chris” is all i can reply and i am sobbing on the other line of the phone. “where are you?” chris asks in a concerned tone, “i- im home.”.

“whats wrong why are you calling?” he questions. “i cant- i cant be here.”.

“im on my way kid, give me a second here ok?”

“mhm” i reply.

he hangs up and i slowly take deep breaths. im not one to cry often but after school the other day ive been crying for 2 weeks straight it feels like. i dont know if chris would mind but i start frantically packing a bag with clothes and things i need for tomorrow morning. i cant be here in this house with them.

i knew in the back of my mind i shouldn’t leave my mom alone but i just couldn’t bear to hear any more crashes or slams now that i know things have gotten physical.

i sit on the floor in front of my door still sobbing as i just started and me and chris’ texts waiting for-

wednesday 12:57am

chris: here

waiting for that.

i open my window not caring to be quiet as i slip through it. sliding it shut and carefully climbing down the stairs of the treehouse my father built for me when i was a baby. probably the only thing ill ever be grateful for from him.

i wipe my eye and nose trying to compose myself while walking up to chris’ truck. opening the back door first and throwing my bag in to the back seat and then making my way to the passenger side. climbing up to the seat and buckling myself in. a few tears still streaming from my face.

“y/n what happened.” chris asks in a quiet tone. the question making everything flood back in to my head and i breakdown again. i bring my hands up to my face and cry into my hands. “it cant be that bad kid whats wrong.” he says with concern. “its worse.” i reply. “can we p- please go to your house. i- i cant be hear any longer.” i ask through choked sobs. “of course.” he puts the truck in drive.

the drive is quiet, the sound of my crying and heavy breathing being the only sound coming through the vehicle.

we get to his house and he immediately gets out and goes to grab my bag from the bag and then opening my door. i sniffle and smile at him thankfully.

once i enter his house its fully of joy. warm lighting and happiness filling the walls. i stand in the door way shivering as im in a big shirt and sleep shorts with sneakers on in the middle of winter. chris comes in after me with my bag over his shoulder and closing the door behind him and locking it. “cold?” he smiles and i nod rubbing my arms.

i look around his house for a minute, “cmon” he nods towards the stairs and we start walking up them to his room. we get to his room door. he walks over to his bed turning on the white led strip lights he has and walks back to the door. “hey go sit down kid ill be right back.” i nod in response and walk over to his bed. “hey y/n is gonna sleep here tonight.” i hear chris say, his voice is muffled slightly and i hear matt and nick ask “why?”.

“i dont know she just called me crying and she wont speak, i think something happened at her house.” he replies and walks back in.

going to his closet he grabs a hoodie and tosses it to me, “thank you.” i sniffle and smile putting the hoodie on immediately feeling warmer. he walks over to his bed crounching down in front of me.

“talk to me kid, what happened?” he asks softly, “was it your parents?” he adds. i close my eyes as streams of tears flow from them. my not answering was an answer for chris. he bows his head down shaking it and letting out a breath. “how bad was it?” he looks up at me.

“bad enough for my mom to be crying on the floor with a bloody nose and a bruised neck.” i reply and wipe nose. chris’ face fills with concern as i cry into my hands.

he takes my hands and removes them from my face starring at me with my runny nose and red eyes. i move to stand up and he does the same, “chris im sorry i shouldnt even be telling you th-“ i am paused with his arms coming around my head in to a hug. i melt into his touch burying my face into his chest and hooking my arms under his. i hold on to him for dear life and sob.

“im sorry.” i keep repeating as he hugs me. “stop it. none of what happened is your fault ok? your dad is a piece of shit stop apologizing.” he comforts as he gently rubs my back. the world goes quiet as i hold on to him, everything seemed to do that when i was with chris. i pull away still holding on to his arm “chris you have no idea how grateful i am for you.” i smile fiddling with his fingers. he smiles and kisses me, “shit sorry. bad timing, im awful.” he blurts as he immediately pulls away putting his hand up to his forehead. i wipe my nose again, “its ok. never apologize for that.”

our friendship as of now felt different. we are best friends that are fake dating but occasionally kiss when no ones around. i want to ask him what this means but im afraid it will ruin what we have. so i stay quiet as he leans into me again. i go on my tip toes and grab either side of his face into a long sweet kiss. pulling apart we both sit down on his bed and get under the sheets inches apart.

both of us laying face up but chris is on his phone.

thinking about my night i wonder what i would do without chris. having him as my best friend was the biggest blessing i could have asked for. even though i was enduring the roughest two weeks of my life chris always managed to to make my rocky world a still calm path.

as i think about him i instinctually move closer to him wrapping both of my arms around him. “whats this for?” he asks looking down and me and raising him arm for me to come in, as i can hear him smiling in his voice.

“i just am in l-, i just love you so much you are the only thing that helps me constantly.” i correct myself. he chuckles and shuts his phone off grabbing his tv remote. turning on a show on a low volume and shutting off his leds.

with his free hand he slips it under his hoodie thats on me and lightly starts scratching my back. i hum at the feeling closing my eyes. “that feel good?” he says in a quiet voice. “mhm” reply lightly nodding my head thats buried in his shoulder now. the low hum of of the show playing, my comfortable position cuddling with chris, plus my exhaustion and his hand scratching me made my tired eyes even more intense.

i fall asleep happier than i was an hour ago and its all thanks to chris.

chris pov

the feeling of her breathing against my side is more calming than anything i could describe. her fragile body is fast asleep on me with her leg over mine and her arms around my neck as i continue to lightly draw shapes on her back.

i cant believe what she endured tonight let alone it being a normal occurrence for her parents to argue. she told me about them fighting before and she always said it got intense but i have never seen her this emotional. i feel happy knowing that she can trust me in such a vulnerable state.

she hums in her sleep nuzzing her head impossibly closer to me and i just admire her as she does so. i just wish our current situation could be more than it is but bringing that up would change everything and commitment to another person is like holding a new born. you have someones full trust and life in your hands never knowing if their going to fall out.

ill take what i can get as we are closer than we have ever been tonight. watching her sleep is the most beautiful thing ive ever come across.

her dark hair lays out on her back as i can smell her vanilla scented shampoo that she told me was way to expensive for what she would normally pay. my hoodie that fit her in the most adorable oversized way. her sleep shorts that are peeking out from the covers that slightly show her skin. and her cold finger tips against my neck, the feeling of them almost lulling me to sleep.

i continue to scratch her back even though she is already asleep and kiss the top of her head which i wouldn’t have the courage to do if she was awake.

“im so in love with you kid, i just have fear of making that real. it would ruin everything. i just wish you were awake for me to tell you, but it would be selfish to take you as mine you have so much love to give.” i mumble whispered against her head just seconds before i fell asleep

thanks for reading xx

taglist: @sleepysturnss @blahbel668 @alorsxsturn @w4nnabeurs @junnniiieee07 @waydasims @matthewloverr @bitchydragonparadise @matthewsturnioloswifey @iloveneilperry @stunza @realuvrrr @jennss23 @tubl-mc @lilsstvrn

a/n: pls send thoughts in the comments. also i know this is a heavy topic to cover so my dms are open if anyone needs to talk. love you all🩷🩷

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faeriekit · 7 months

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Health and Hybrids (XIV)👽👻💚

[I can't remember the original prompt posters for the life of me but here's a mashup between a cryptid!Danny, presumed-alien!Danny, dp x dc, and the prompt made the one body horror meat grinder fic.]

PART ONE is here PART TWOis here PART THREE is here PART FOUR is here and PART FIVE is here PART SIX is here and PART SEVEN is here PART EIGHT is here PART NINE is here PART TEN is here PART ELEVEN is here PART TWELVE is here PART THIRTEEN is here and this is part fourteen! Yes I messed it up this morning yes I had to wait all day to correct it it's all goooood

💚 Ao3 Is here for all parts

Where we last left off... Bart is a good egg who is having a Bad Time waiting for his friend :(

Trigger warnings for this story: body horror | gore | post-dissection fic | dehumanization (probably) | my nonexistent attempts at following DC canon. On with the show.

💚👻👽👻💚

Danny wakes up with a gasp.

He’s—where is he? Everything hurts. He can barely think. Danny groans, long and loud, and lifts up an aching hand to his temple.

His fingers come away green. Aw, fuck. What happened to him? What’s going on? Why is his hand…blurry? Is he concussed? Is something wrong with his eyes, or with his head??

(He hopes it’s not his head. It’s waaay easier to heal from one than the other.)

Danny tries to sit up, and— NOPE. Ow. Bad idea. Suuuuuch a bad idea. His arms and hands and his neck and his back are screaming at him, now that he’s awake enough to pay attention. Ughhhhhhhhhhh.

He lays back down. His eyes don’t—well, they don’t shut all the way, which part of his brain labels as very bad, actually, but the world does turn darker and greener as he tries to shut his eyes, and that’s close enough to closing his eyes that Danny can mostly zone out past the pain.

He licks his sore lips. They taste like copper. And battery acid. …And Pixie Sticks.

Ugh, ecto-blood. His own, he assumes.

Everything is blurry and everything kind of hurts and he doesn’t know how he got here or what’s going on. Danny tries to roll over, tries to get more comfortable, but something starts dragging on the inside of his arm, which means intravenous lines.

Ugggghhhh. He hopes it’s got pain meds at least.

Awake him can deal with this later. Danny zones out, his labored breathing evens.

He’s asleep before he knows it.

Danny wakes up next to quiet murmuring, and to weird sensation of something moving in his arm.

He yawns—and his jaw cracks apart farther than usual, with more clicking noises than his jaw usually makes. Weird. His arms come up, his eyes unblur…

The tugging sensation doesn’t go away. Danny sniffs blearily. Blinks.

Two white-coated humans(…?) in PPE pause at his bedside, a half-dissembled IV shared between them.

Danny stops breathing. He can’t—is he—

His eyes go to the ceiling. The floor. He doesn’t recognize the room he’s in. He doesn’t understand. Is this the Guys in White again? Is he— Did he never leave? Is he trapped? Danny doesn’t—he can’t—

—One of the white coats starts making worried noises, which. Danny’s never heard that before. It’s usually threats. They raise both their arms, and Danny flinches back—

…And so do they. Huh. Hm. Are the Guys hiring scaredy cats now? That would be a change of pace, if they were as scared of Danny as Danny is of them.

The second person clicks the new IV bag into place. Danny stops focusing on number one and starts focusing on number two.

They don’t make any overt tells either. The IV line is already in him, and the bag is… Well. It’s not red and Danny’s not in any pain, and it’s not green either. It’s just. Kinda opaque? Milky? The person doesn’t start cackling evilly or telling Danny how screwed he is, either. They both just sort of…tidy up?

The first one doesn’t get closer, either, but Danny can mostly tell that they’re scanning him visually. Their attention goes from his face, to Danny’s visible arm, to the puncture point in his elbow for the IV needle.

Danny also eyes his IV point. Well. It looks like a needle. Doesn’t hurt all that much.

Someone says something he doesn’t catch. But the tone isn’t…mean, or anything. If anything, it sounds quiet, and low, like they’re trying to keep him calm.

Danny doesn’t understand.

He moves as far out of the way of them as possible. It only has the effect of a few inches and it's so painfully slow. If that. He— he remembers. He’s supposed to be scared of— something. No, he knows it—

The labs. He’s supposed to be scared of the labs. The smell is rank there and there’s always screaming and Danny had been hurt there; really, really hurt.

He’s still hurt. He’s still in a lab. In a room. In some sort of too-small prison, and now his barely-sewn together lungs are trying too hard to keep air in his body and it’s not working, and—

Danny barely pays attention when the first doctor leaves. He sees the other back into the door and reach for the phone line, and he can’t stop breathing and he can’t calm down because that means that they’re calling for help and they’re going to hurt him all over again. Tie him down. Cut him open. Shock him, until he can’t breathe without screaming—

Someone new comes in. They look— rushed. Danny can see her actively tying up long black hair, threading a mask up over her face, pulling on one of those paper shifts the doctors wear. The only difference is that she doesn’t put boot covers on.

She has big, bright boots that go all the way up her legs. With his green vision, they look kind of…greyish? (Maybe they’re pink..?)

Either way. They look…ridiculous. Danny doesn’t exactly forget to be scared, but also…what the fuck.

The woman sees that Danny can see her. She waves.

Danny presses back against his— cot. Bed.

That doesn’t stop her. She pulls latex gloves from out of the paper slip she’s wearing and snaps them on, revealing a thin layer of something shiny underneath her elastic-bound sleeves. Once that’s on, she does a visible body checkup of herself: boots, gown, gloves, mask, hair.

…No hair net, though. Or goggles. The Docs in White always wanted to be fully covered when they saw their victims. Being able to see her eyes is a lot…friendlier.

She figures herself out. Straightens. Gives a double thumbs up.

…Danny's eyes roam around. There’s no one nearby. There's only a wall behind him. Is she looking at…him? Is that directed to him?

She doesn’t move immediately— and once she’s in, the second doctor leaves the room entirely.

…The new person takes over. She goes from monitor to monitor, getting closer, but with none of the focus on Danny, per se. She reads his stats, verbalizes them out loud, which, doesn’t sound like…English? But enough to confuse him? It’s kind of like trying to discern Esperanto when he's not thinking about how it's not English.

Ancients. The pounding in his head is getting worse. Maybe Danny has a concussion or something.

The woman doesn’t…get. Him. In fact, he seems to be the least interesting thing in the room to her. Her time is spent on reading the charts and the machines waiting around him, putting something into a…fridge? A Cabinet? In the corner of his room? And otherwise, she leaves him alone.

Until. She does get up and look at him, and all of Danny tenses up painfully. He can’t move. Something’s holding down his legs, his body’s stiff, and all of him is so tired that he genuinely can’t tell if his waist is tied down or if he’s just that exhausted.

He can hear his heart rate monitor kick up. He can’t move, not really. He tries to go intangible but his core just throbs with misery, and—

She mostly just pats his sheets. Not his person, even. Apparently the torture is being held off for now. “Eow eart wel?”

…Danny squints. That is almost English.

“Eom hebbjan yift,” she adds, leadingly, as if Danny is a friend she can tease and not a subject under threat of the knife. He doesn't like it. It hurts. Nothing is real and everyone hates him and all he wants to do is leave but his body is rejecting him and—

Something light and plastic thumps down onto the bed.

Danny blinks. He looks—down. (His neck makes him regret that.)

Is that a…is that a space shuttle? No, ‘cause Danny thinks he recognizes it. It’s Discovery? Isn’t it? That’s the one they just retired. He tries to grab it, but— ouch, oof, his fingers can’t even stretch, bad idea—

The woman gently guides the shuttle into his hand. It doesn’t even hurt. And.

It’s cold to the touch. The model is plastic, it shouldn’t be so cold, but the sensation is distinctly cool and kind of familiar.

…Oh. Danny struggles to flex his fingers around the thing.

It’s him.

Or. Well. The shuttle is his. It has his ectoplasm imbued all throughout it. He can even sort of feel the sensation of carefulplayingcareful he’d have felt while near it. The feeling is weak, and timid, but it’s still there.

So. Then. When did he get it? And…why? Why was it allowed to him? How did he get it?

Is this how they’re feeding him now? Instead of showering him with poorly filtered ectoplasm every time he gets rowdy, are they actually trying to feed his Obsession? For real?? That’s—that’s brand new behavior from the—

Danny blinks. Wait. That’s not it either. Because there’s an IV in him. So…they know he’s getting human food.

So. Uh.

Hm.

Danny doesn’t want to get his hopes up. But this…might not be the Guys in White.

Of course, they might not be better than the GIW either; it’s a total possibility that Danny’s getting suckered into some scheme where every gentle permission and soft voice is a debt he owes…some new reason to take…

His eyelids twitch as they try to shut. He’s so tired. Fear kept him mobile, but now…everything is so heavy.

The lady carefully shushes him, ever so gently. She pulls up his blanket for him. Pats it down.

Danny shivers. He’s so, so scared.

“Ræste þiht,” the woman whispers. The words sound fond. Danny’s so scared, but he’s so tired. His heart is beating so fast. “An freond becymþ hraðe.”

It’s reassuring.

Danny doesn’t want it to be.

He falls asleep the way the desperate do—clawing at the last traces of wakefulness, only to have his consciousness ripped from him.

#Diana: Hi friend! :) I'm glad you're awake!#Danny: *dialling 911 and failing* HELLO???? POLICE?? ANYONE?? HELP???#HE'S UP AND HE'S PEOPLE!#also shoutout to everyone who thought Danny was too concussed for English. Nope! This is a Fundamentally Different English y'all.#health and hybrids #dp x dc #dpxdc #dcxdp #danny phantom #tw gore #tw medical #tw body horror #dcu crossover

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louloulemons-posts · 8 months

Text

Oil At The Coffee Shop IV

Eddie X Fem!Reader

Summary : Reader wants to apologise to the Munsons, having a heart to heart with one and panicking the other.

Word Count : 1.7k

Warnings : Not proofread, not much eddie x reader, uncle wayne’s an icon, max x lucas, petnames from wayne and another, rambly, talks of maxs injuries, mentions of scaring, mentions of the earthquakes/upside down, homeless shelter

Fic Masterlist

~ / / / * \ \ \ ~

The first week had been manic, it was now Saturday evening, and you and Max were doing the final clean up of the week. “Hey I was just wondering, do you know if any of your friends are looking for jobs?” you asked her.

“I’m not sure, I could ask.”

“If you don’t mind, I think we could use another staff member, or two,” you smiled at her. “I think so, my feet are killing me.”

“Hey if you need a few days off I don’t mind.”

“No no! It’s okay. It’s just a lot, I was injured a few years back so sometimes my body slows down a bit.”

“Oh Max, you should have told me, I would

have given you more breaks.”

“It’s fine really, I want to be able to do this stuff again.”

“Was it the earthquakes?” you asked her.

“Yeah,” she sighed, “Doctors said I was lucky to be alive.”

“You’re a strong kid Max, you’re going to do amazing things. You should be proud of yourself.”

“Thank you,” she smiled, sweeping the floor up. “What happened with Eddie?” She asked. “What do you mean?”

“Well I just mean you know each other, how’s that?”

“Just through Steve and he fixed my car. Don’t think he likes me much in all honesty.”

“Why?”

“I think I offended him. I gave him and Wayne a big tip after fixing my car just to say thank you.”

She nodded, stopping her sweeping, “Eddies not too trusting. I know you meant it to be nice, but he worries about his uncle. Wants to make sure nobody’s being nice to just screw them over,” she explained.

“I see. So how much did I mess up?”

“Don’t worry about it, he’ll forgive you. Wayne will make him,” she chuckled.

“Is there any reason he’s like that? Like not trusting?” Max seemed like she didn’t know how to answer.

“You don’t have to tell me Max, it’s none of my business.”

“Eddies just always been I don’t know … different. He’s not good around new people. That’s all it is, he’ll warm up to you. Especially if your close to Steve and now me. Eddie loves me,” she shrugged.

“Well maybe I’ll go and apologise, take some Cherry turnovers as a white flag.” Grabbing a box you put four of the fresher turnovers in, wrapping them up so they wouldn’t be damaged.

“Well that’s the way to the Munsons hearts, food,” she joked. There was a knock on the door. “That must be Lucas, can I let him in?”

“Course Honey,” you said and the young girl almost skipped to the door.

Hearing them greeting each other you smiled, sorting out Maxs pay, so she could go. “Hi Lucas, how’s it going?” You said to the boy. “I’m good, how’s it been today? Max causing you trouble?” He joked, making his girlfriend hit him lightly.

“She’s been golden,” you smiled, handing her the money. “You two get out of here, have a good night.”

“You sure? I can stay,” she said, almost concerned. “I promise I’ll be okay. You enjoy the rest of your weekend, I’ll see you Monday.”

The young couple waved goodbye, left you to finish everything for the weekend. You planned to take the leftovers that wouldn’t last the weekend, to the shelter in town. Then of course stop off at Munsons mechanics.

There wasn’t a lot to do now that Max had gone, just finish up the sweeping and wrap up food to go. Flicking the lights off you headed out, locking up behind yourself.

Climbing in your, now working, car, you were on your way.

~ / / / * \ \ \ ~

“This is really generous, are you sure?” a woman with dark hair asked, as you placed the boxes of food down on a table. “They’d go to waste, people need food and I have extra.”

“That’s so kind of you, thank you.” She took the boxes and headed over to what you assumed the kitchen was. It was crazy to think that the earthquakes happened a while back and there were so many people here.

A big board sat to the side, thick with missing posters. Some people with waiting for others to come home, some waiting for their homes to come back, and others had nowhere and nothing but this place and the people in it.

Your name being called pulled you out of your trance. Turning you saw a familiar face, “Robin, hi. How’s it going?” you smiled.

“Great, it’s good to see you. What are you doing here?”

“Just come to drop off some food, how about you?”

“Oh Vickie is one of the people in charge here, I help out on my days off. Have you met her?” she asked.

“Briefly. The night we went out, she came to pick you up.”

“Ah, explains why I can’t remember. Can I defend myself and say I don’t always get like that,” she laughed awkwardly.

“Trust me, shots don’t sit right with me either.”

Smiling in comfort now, “Well I need to get off, I’m hoping to catch Wayne before he leave the mechanics,” you explained.

“Your car in trouble again?”

“No, nothing like that. Just need to discuss something with him.”

“Oh well if he isn’t there he lives in Forest Hills, near the edge of town.”

“The trailer park?” Humming, Robin answered, “Yeah even though he has the mechanics he never wants to move.”

“Right well thanks, I’ll see you soon. Hopefully we can hang out and I can meet Vickie properly,” you spoke, not in the sarcastic way where you never actually want to meet up, sincerely you did.

“I hope so, I think Steve’s having a big barbecue like to celebrate the end of Summer or something.”

“Sounds like Steve. I’ll see you.” Waving goodbye you headed back to your car.

~ / / / * \ \ \ ~

There was no luck at the mechanics, and you wouldn’t have time during the week or tomorrow. You had to go and buy stock and sort out some changes to the menu.

It felt a bit strange driving to the Wayne’s home, you hated showing up uninvited, but you needed to apologise and make sure he knew it wasn’t meant maliciously.

You drove through, not really sure where to go. Slowing down by a middle aged man, you opened your window. “Excuse me,” you spoke, attempting not to make him jump.

“Yeah?”

“Do you know where Wayne Munson lives?”

“Who’s asking?” he asked almost cautiously. “Oh uh, a client? A friend?” you told him your name.

“Right,” he grunted, “He lives on the back of the park, you’ll see his car. Just keep driving. Watch yourself.” You looked at him confused. “You say you’re a friend of the Munsons, be careful Honey, that might not be friends you’re wanting.”

“Right. Thanks for you help,” you said, rolling up the window and continuing on your way. How strange.

He was right, the man, you spotted Wayne’s car. The trailer seemed to be set further back than the others. Isolated almost.

You picked up the box of turn overs and headed to the door, tapping on it twice. “Just coming!” a voice shouted. A familiar face appeared around the door. “Hey Honey! What are you doing here?” Wayne asked.

“I was just wondering if we could talk? I brought some Cherry turnovers,” you motioned to the box in your hand. “Well you’ve twisted my arm, come on in,” he joked.

“Sweet tea?” he asked.

“Please,” you smiled.

“You take a seat, I’ll get us some drinks and plates.” You did so, sitting on a beige couch with floral patterning on it.

A maroon arm chair sat in the corner, you could only assume that was Waynes chair. Mugs and caps covered the walls, all unique, not one even remotely similar to another.

“Here you go Honey,” he smiled, placing the glass in front of you and the plate. He took out one of the turnovers and split it with a knife, giving you half. “Thank you,” you smiled to him.

“I’m sorry I haven’t been able to visit your shop yet, everyone’s travelling back from vacation. Cars are overheating and breaking down left right and centre.”

“It’s alright,” you told him, taking a sip of the tea. It was amazing.

“Oh wow,” you spoke.

“It’s good isn’t it?” he laughed.

“It’s delicious!”

“Maybe one day’ll give you the recipe and you can sell it in that shop of yours.”

“That would be great.”

“So what did we need to talk about?” he asked, taking a bite of the sweet treat and humming in delight. “Well I … I’m sorry if I offended you, that was never my intention Mr Munson.”

“Offend me? Honey how could you offend me?”

“When I, when I gave Eddie the money for my car he came back. I didn’t mean to upset him or you, I was just trying to be nice and say thank you I swear.”

“Why did Eddie come back?”

“Cause I left you a tip.”

“Oh Honey, that’s so generous, but you don’t need to do that for us.”

“It was just meant to be a thank you I didn’t mean to insult you.”

“You didn’t. It’s just Eddie being cautious. I was wondering where that extra $65 came from.”

“I am sorry Mr Munson.”

“Stop apologising, you didn’t do nothing wrong and the names Wayne. You can use it.” You nodded, taking another sip of your drink. “I just wanted to say sorry that’s why I came here. When I see Eddie I’ll say sorry to him too. I was rude to him.”

“Probably deserved it, he gets snappy when his guards up. Don’t take it personal, he’ll warm up to you. The whole towns already chatting up a storm about you.”

“You don’t say?”

“Mhm so many of the boys at the shop are talking about Callie’s lovely niece.”

“Well that’s very kind of them.”

“It’s true, you seem lovely-“ A door in the trailer opened and another voice came, “You taking to yourself old man?”

You could hear the smile in his tone as he walked down the hall to find you and Wayne sat drinking tea and chatting like old friends.

Eddie Munson stood there, in all his glory. No shirt, towel around his waist, curly hair dripping on the floor. You could see the panic in his face, not understanding why at first, but then you saw them.

They were all over his body.

They covered him.

Scars.

~ / / / * \ \ \ ~

A/N : OH SHIT

Thank you so much for reading 🤍

Taglist : @corrodedseraphine @flawiette @witchwolflea @emxxblog

let me know if you want to be added

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her-power · 4 months

Text

Last Chance to Dance (Rockstar! e.m. x fem reader)

🚨🛑🔞18+++ MINORS DNI - YOU WILL BLOCKED🚨🛑🔞 TRIGGER/CONTENT WARNING (For entire series): Rockstar! Addict! Sweet! Mean! Eddie, smut, unprotected p+v, fluff, fingering (f receiving), masturbation, oral (m+f receiving), heavy drug use, descriptions of IV drug use, swearing, talks of anxiety, panic disorder, mental illness, talks of suicide

Summary: Modern Eddie + reader are early 30s. Eddie is the famous lead singer/guitarist of Corroded Coffin, who has gotten himself into legal trouble due to his antics and drug use. Eddie broke your heart many years ago and he receives a letter from you asking to meet to talk about what happened between you two so long ago. Secrets are talked about, mental walls are built and broken down. Most of this series will be in Eddie's POV. (I will also be putting song inspirations on each part 🤍)

Word Count: 5k

A/N: There will be a LOT of mentions of heavy drug use in this series. This series DOES NOT glorify the use of drugs. It is not cool, it is not fun, it is something that destroys people and everyone around them. I have loved and lost people I know to drug and alcohol use, a lot of what you read here is my own personal experience from what I have seen with my own eyes. I hope this series will spread awareness and will give anyone and everyone who reads this hope. If you or anyone you know is struggling with addiction, please know you are not alone, there is help out there.

The silence is almost deafening as I sit there in my dimly lit office, tapping my finger against the arm of the chair; the metal of my ring clinking as I stare at my therapist, Dr. Catherine Ryan, in front of me. She had a kind smile, but I wasn’t in the mood to talk today.

“What’s bothering you?” She asks gently.

I gaze at her, gnawing on the inside of my cheek. A stupid habit I formed when I stopped using six months ago.

Let’s see, I’m tired of the noise inside my head that is constantly reminding me what a piece of shit I am. I’m lucky that my bandmates don’t hate my guts for the shit I put them through on tour when I was needle deep in a heroin fog and couldn’t remember the lyrics to a fucking song I wrote. My music career is only surviving because the world thinks we’re on a hiatus to write our next album when I actually did a stint in rehab and have court ordered mandatory therapy once a week. The only way I can have therapy is if she comes to my escape cabin in upstate New York and escorted in and out by a security guard.

Oh, I also can’t stop thinking of you, the one whose heart I broke fifteen years ago back in Hawkins, Indiana because I was too scared to love or be loved. The same you who mailed me a letter that I received at my P.O. Box in Boston three days ago, that I haven’t opened yet and sits in my back pocket folded up, because I’m too much of a pussy to see what you have to say.

“I don’t want to talk about it.” I tell her, taking a cigarette out of my pocket. I let the smoke fill my lungs and exhale the smoke away from her.

“What do you want to talk about?” She asks, crossing her legs. I stare at her long legs, and my eyes scan up her body. She was curvy and thick, with a perfect set of tits and stunning green eyes. I almost laugh, if a beautiful woman like her was in my house six months ago, it wouldn’t take long before I’d have her bent over the back of my couch, fucking her until she couldn’t take it anymore. But I couldn’t do that anymore. Play stupid games, win stupid prizes, or whatever the fuck the saying is.

“Eddie, this is mandatory therapy. I can’t help you if you’re not willing to talk. We’ve had four sessions so far, and the only thing we have talked about is your drug habit.” She seemed annoyed, and I couldn’t blame her.

“I’m only here because of my drug habit.”

“Is that all?”

She was testing me, and I smile at her, leaning my elbows against my knees. “You know, I bet you are really good at helping people and are able to get your patients to sit here and cry about their shitty lives or whatever it is people tell you. But I hate to break it to you, sweetheart, you’re not gonna get it from me.”

“You keep up a guard. Defense mechanism, it’s common in people who have been hurt before.” She says, scribbling a note down.

I narrow my eyes. “I sense judgment in your tone, and I’m not sure I care for it.”

“It’s not judgement, Eddie. It’s an observation. I’m observing you.”

I sit back against my chair and scoff, lighting up another cigarette with the ember of the one I just had. I inhale deeply. “I think our session should be cut early today.”

She closes her notebook and gives you a kind smile. “If that’s what you want.”

“I do.” I tell her.

I get up from my seat as she stands, walking her to the door where the security guard waited outside. I may be an asshole, but I know how to be a gentleman. Chivalry isn’t dead when your name is Eddie Munson. She nods at me as she leaves, handing me her card for the time of the next session for next week and I close the door behind her. I stub out the cigarette in the ashtray and let out a deep sigh. I plop myself on the couch, hearing the crinkle of the letter in my back pocket and I lift my hips to pull it out. I look at the neat print on the front; seeing your handwriting brought back so many memories that I had forgotten about.

Why would you send me a letter? Is it just to tell me how happy you’ve been these last fifteen years since I’ve been gone, that you’re married with children, thriving in your thirties?

“Well, the only way to know is if you open the letter, dipshit.” I mutter to myself. I groan, shaking my head as I rip the letter open and unfold it. It was only two pages, but you had written a lot.

Hey, You’re a tough guy to find, being famous and all. I didn’t think this P.O. Box was real at first, but I ended up tracking down Gareth and he told me it was real. I can’t believe he still has the phone number he’s had since high school. I don’t know why I’m writing you a letter, I guess I could’ve just texted you, he did give me your number, but I wanted this to feel more personal. Like when I’d write you those stupid folded notes in class. I know it’s been a long time, and you’re probably thinking I’m absolutely insane, but I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you lately. There are so many things that I wanna say to you. There are so many things that were left unsaid, and I guess lately it’s been bothering me. You’re probably not even going to get this, so I don’t even know why I’m continuing to write. I don’t want you to think that I hated you or have hated you this whole time. It would be easier to hate you, believe me, I’ve tried but I physically cannot have that kind of power over me. I’m proud of you, Eddie. You worked so hard to get to where you are, and you made your dreams come true. I knew you could. I want to tell you I’m proud of you in person; to let you know that what happened in the past stays there and we can both move forward in a way. I mean, I just told you now. I know you’re really busy and I feel stupid now. But I will be in Boston in December, the week of the 18th while my aunt is down in Florida for the week, house sitting. Gareth had mentioned you and the band were taking a hiatus to focus on the writing and doing some self reflecting. I would love to see you, especially with the holiday season.

It’s not every day you get to see the boy you’ve known since diapers be on the cover of Rolling Stone magazine, selling out stadiums.

Please don’t feel obligated, though.

I suddenly forgot how to swallow, and I almost choke on my own saliva. You had written your phone number on the bottom of the last page. I swing my legs onto the floor, taking my phone off the coffee table. I scroll to my contact list, and add your name, along with your phone number.

I pause, my hands begin to shake, and I inhale deeply.

“No no no, not now, not now.” Grimacing, I sit back on couch, closing my eyes as my stomach turns to knots and my chest feels like it was going to explode. I can feel the sweat bead at the back of my neck as the panic attack feels like it’s choking me out and I groan. I go into the drawer of the coffee table, pulling out the lorazepam pill bottle, taking a minute to open the cap because my hands were so sweaty. I throw the pill in my mouth, swallowing it dry and breathe in through my nose.

This happens more often now, especially since being off dope, I had to learn how to deal with them like a normal thirty-four-year-old man. It took a lot of convincing for my doctors to give me the lorazepam, but apparently threatening to go and take a hot shot of heroin to kill myself was convincing enough for them to give me the lowest dose of the stupid pill.

I close my eyes. Thinking back to how I got here; how I could’ve lost everything because of my own stupidity, because of my inability to slow down, because I took sex, drugs, rock and roll too literally. All because I refuse to let love into my soul and hold on tight.

One year earlier

The dressing room walls echo with the moans of myself and...I don’t even remember her name. Sarah? Shelly? It doesn’t even matter. I only see the back of her head anyway; she was very blonde. I hold onto her hips tightly, slamming my cock in and out of her. She was screaming like a porn star, and I’m pretty sure she was putting on a show.

“Oooooh, just like that baby. Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me. Oh goddd, you’re so fucking good.” She moans and I roll my eyes, slamming into her harder just to get her to shut up. I reach over to the coffee table to grab my tiny vile of cocaine, I pop open the cap, and pull out of her for a moment. She was still rolling her hips as I sprinkle the drugs onto her ass.

“Stop fucking moving.” I tell her, grabbing the plastic straw and snorting back the drugs into my airways. She moans again when she hears me snort another line off her, and I slam myself back into her. My head falls back in pleasure, the effects of the cocaine causing every single part of my body to pulsate, and I can feel my orgasm approaching.

“Fuuuuck.” I moan, my rhythm getting sloppy, and she groans.

“Cum inside me baby, cum inside me.” She moans and I immediately feel myself go soft. Fuck this. I stop moving and slide myself out of her, she turns to look at me, her mouth opened in a gasp. “Why did you stop?”

I take a cigarette out of my pack and light it. “Get out.”

“What?” She snaps.

“Get your shit and get the fuck out of my dressing room. Telling me to cum inside you, I know what you’re doing.” I take her dress off the floor and throw it at her. Her eyes narrow and she gets up from the couch, throwing the dress over her head.

“You weren’t even that good, fucking junkie!” She yells at me, and I can’t help the laugh that escapes my lungs. She looked like a cartoon character. Her eyes wild, her hair a wild mess, her fake tits bouncing as she storms out of the room. I lean back on the couch, a little mad that I didn’t cum, but whatever, that’s what my hand is for. I don’t know why I invite these women back to my dressing room after every show. Most of the time, these women don’t even know the words to our songs, they just want to be able to tell their friends they fucked a rockstar. I sigh, opening the vile and do another bump. I’m one hundred percent in love with heroin, but I’m an addict. Cocaine just takes the edge off when I need it to. I tie my hair back in a low bun, blowing my bangs out of my face. I stand, catching a glimpse of myself in the fluorescent lit vanity mirror. The lighting made me look terrible; I was thinner than normal. The ram skull tattoo across my abdomen looked discolored, but I know it was just the way the light was hitting it. I was losing muscle mass in both of my arms, but since tattoo sleeves covered both my arms, no one could notice. No one knew how bad it was getting with the dope; I honestly preferred to suffer in silence about it, but I knew they noticed. I would feel Gareth’s eyes burn into the back of my skull whenever I would escape to go into a bathroom, or immediately go into my hotel room to get started on my new supply. I felt terrible keeping it from him, he was my brother, my bandmate, but he didn’t need to worry. I was fine, at least that’s what I told myself.

We had awhile before we hit the next city of the tour. The tour bus felt too crowded, too stuffy. We all decided it would make sense to hide out in a hotel for a few days before we got to Atlanta. I requested my own room of course, the supply I just bought felt like it was burning a hole in my pocket. Isn’t that what they say about money?

Money meant nothing to me; if I lost it all tomorrow, I wouldn’t care. That’s the beauty of this drug, you don’t have a care in the world once that shot courses through your veins.

I lock the door to my room after saying goodnight and head into the bathroom. I pull my shirt over my head and undo the belt from my jeans. I set everything up on the table: fresh needle, the drugs, and water bottle cap. It doesn’t take long for me to pull the dope into the syringe, at this point it’s like riding a bike for me. I sit on the floor against the bathtub, I wrap the belt around my left arm, pulling it tight with my teeth and clench my fist. I see the most perfect vein pop up in the bend of my arm; I have to be careful though, I can’t go to the same spot twice or else I’ll blow up my veins and then more people will notice. I’ve always hated needles, isn’t that ironic? I’m thinking that as the tip of it pinches my skin and my thumb is on the trigger, slowly pushing it down.

“A spoon full of sugar makes the medicine go down…” I sing softly, feeling the sweet burn of the heroin flow like a tsunami in my veins. My eyes flutter close as the most beautiful feeling overcomes me; my head lulls back against the porcelain and I feel a smile grace my lips.

A loud knock at my door startles me out of my high, and I’m pissed.

“Hang on a second.” I mutter and awkwardly pull myself up, undoing the belt from my arm. I place the cap on the needle and toss it behind the doors under the sink.

Knock knock knock knock knock

I toss my sweatshirt over my head, putting a cigarette to my lips. “Yeah, I hear you! Fuck, I’m coming.”

I open the door to find Gareth standing there with his arms crossed, I light the cigarette and wave my hand, tilting my head at him. “Yeah?”

“What are you doing?” He asks me.

“What do you mean what am I doing? I’m not doing anything.” I inhale on the cigarette, and he continues to stare at me. If there was a God, I thank him for giving me brown eyes, because at least he wouldn’t be able to see how my pupils look like pinholes. “Do you wanna come in?”

I move to the side, and he walks by me, I shut the door, locking it.

“Do you want a beer or anything?” I ask him, going into the mini fridge, pulling out two, I could feel myself about to nod, but I quickly stand up, clearing my throat so I can at least look like I’m not fucked up.

“No, I’m fine.” His eyes scan every inch of my room, the floor where my clothes were, Sweetheart laying on the foot of my bed. My necklace I always wore with the red guitar pick laid on the nightstand by the bed. I always take it off before I shoot up, I don’t know why, I think something is going to happen to it if I don’t, it means a lot to me. His eyes fix on my belt on the bathroom floor, he doesn’t say anything, but I know what he’s thinking.

“Gareth, if you got something to say, man, just say it.” I tell him, leaning against the small table, I ash my cigarette into a coca cola can.

He turns to me; he was still blessed with a baby face that I remember from school. “How bad is it getting?” He almost whispers.

“How bad is what getting?”

“The drugs, man. Come on dude, I know you’re not stupid.” He sits across from me on the foot of the bed, gently moving Sweetheart over.

I sigh. “Gareth, I’m fine. It’s not getting bad.”

He puts his head down, shaking his head. “Don’t fucking bull shit me, Eddie. I’ve known you for almost two decades. Have you even looked at yourself lately?”

I close my eyes, feeling a wave of anxiety hit my lower gut, and I force it to go away by not caring. “Don’t worry about me, man. I’m serious.”

“Of course, I’m gonna fucking worry!” He stands up, his face full of rage. “If you fuck up this tour, our entire music career is in the gutter! How many times have I had to bail you out when you’ve been coming down from a cocaine binge and are late to rehearsal? How many goddamn times have I had to convince cops not to arrest you when you’re inebriated beyond belief. It’s getting fucking old, man.” He towers over my 6-foot frame and again, I start laughing.

His eyes widen. “Are you seriously laughing right now?

“Yeah.” I chuckle. “I am, because it’s funny how you think I’m gonna be the one who’s gonna fuck up this tour. I built this band from the ground up, nothing and no one is gonna fuck that up.”

“Oh fuck you, dude!” He yells at me. “You built this? What happened to you saying this entire band was built on friendship, loyalty and fucking friends who play nerdy games? What happened to that Eddie?”

“Dead.” I give him a sideways smile. “Dead dead dead.”

He looks at me incredulous. “Wow. You’re an actual nightmare.”

“You’re the one who decided to knock on my door.” I place the cigarette in the can, hearing it sizzle out. I cross my arms over my chest, already itching for another shot. “Anything else?”

He scoffs, walking towards the door and stepping out. “No. Have a good night, Eddie.”

“Yeah, you too!” I scream at his back as I shut the door, locking all the locks and kicking the bottom of it. Suddenly, the chair near the table gets a boot from me, followed by the lamp, the paintings on the walls. I smash the beer bottles against the windows, and when I’m finally spent, I collapse on the bathroom floor, digging out the needle. I’ll leave the hotel a couple hundred dollars to pay for whatever I damaged; I’ll hopefully remember to clean up tomorrow.

I’m pretty sure I put too much in it this time, because I’m riding something wild right now. My eyes are half lidded, my breathing is slow but it’s such a peaceful feeling.

“Makes the medicine go down…medicine go down…”

The beginning of that year was when shit started going downhill fast for me. Once I had gotten my panic attack under control, and I felt calmer, I sent you a text message, realizing that tomorrow was the 18th. I typed up, deleted, typed up, deleted, about six different times before finally sending you: Hey stranger, it’s Eddie. Pretty wild to hear from you. I’m currently up in my cabin in upstate NY, but if you are gonna be in Boston. I can make the trip. It would actually be awesome to see you. Hope you are well.

I forgot how nervous you made me, even back then. You were such a kind, beautiful soul, who loved me and took care of me when I didn’t deserve it. I was so nervous all the time because I really loved you too, but I couldn’t…wouldn’t let myself feel it. You were the only woman in my life that knew me, and actually saw me. You were my best friend, always my partner in group activities in elementary school. It was us against the world the minute I kissed you for the first time when we were eighteen, and then it ended with me, burying my head in the sand, because I’m a fucking idiot.

My phone dings and I see your name pop up. Hey!!! Wow, your own cabin huh? Are you a mountain man or something this winter season? I’m sorry if my letter was all over the place, I really should’ve just texted you but, whatever. Here we are now. Yes! Let’s meet, I can give you a spot to meet for coffee? Unless you just want my aunt’s address, I don’t know how Boston is when it comes to famous people.

I type up a message: Boston is one of those cities that is wild to play on stage in front of, but the people don’t give a fuck if you’re famous. Which is why I bought a condo there, I can live out some downtime in peace. Coffee sounds great. Just let me know a time when you are settled.

You quickly respond: Ha! Boston is pretty rad. I’m already here, I got here a day early. I know you got a pretty long drive so we can meet the day after tomorrow if you’d like? Say around 10?

I type up that that time and date worked for me and begin packing a small suitcase to take with me on the trip.

I honestly felt like I was dreaming all this; I get sober, you, a woman that was literally the one that got away because of my own fucking deep-rooted issues, comes back into my life and wants to see me? I feel like I’m living the Notebook. Except, the rated R version where Ryan Gosling is an ex-junkie, who doesn’t build houses, or used to blow cocaine off a woman’s asshole.

I groan, I already know I’m gonna fuck this up again.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

The coffee shop you chose was a place I’ve never been before, it seemed newer, and no one batted an eye when I walked in. I take off my sunglasses and scan the place. It was quaint, quiet, with rustic undertones but mostly modern.

“Eddie?”

My eyes immediately fix on you, sitting in the back booth by a small window, and I feel my heart flutter down to my stomach. God, you were stunning. Your eyes still shone that sparkle in them, your smile was just as adorable as I remembered, especially the dimples in your cheeks. I whisper your name and find myself quickly walking towards you. You wrap your arms around my shoulders, and I let out a deep sigh, almost lifting you off your feet, as I hug the curves of your waist, burying my face into your shoulder. We stay like that for a while, you giggle into my chest, telling me you couldn’t believe it was me and that I was here. I didn’t want to let go, but I knew I had to. We pull away and you are still smiling, looking into my eyes, you lift your hand to gently curl your fingers into my hair and I smile at you.

“I love that you still kept this hair.” You say, shaking your head, looking like you’re still trying to process that I’m standing in front of you.

I gently cup your face, swallowing hard, studying you. You turn your cheek into my hand, and I slowly remove it. You nod for me to sit, and I scoot over into the booth, peeling off my leather jacket. I still stare at your face; I couldn’t believe you were real. The server comes over to take our coffee order, I get mine hot with triple espresso and a shot of caramel, and you get an iced coffee with a shot of vanilla and almond milk. I smile, you’ve kept the same order since you started drinking coffee.

Your eyes fix on mine, and I smile at you, sipping my coffee. “You haven’t changed.” I tell you softly.

“My back will have to disagree with you.” You laugh, spinning the straw with your finger. “You haven’t either, aside from more tattoos.”

I smile; remembering that you were there for most of my smaller ones. I had convinced you back then to get a large tattoo that started from under your breast, all the way down to the top of your hip; that was always my favorite part of you to taste. I cross my legs, feeling a tingle in my lower belly. Fucking pervert.

I notice a few finger tattoos on your right hand, and I nod to them.

“I told you they were addicting.” I laugh. “How many do you have now?”

You laugh, a sound so beautiful to my ears, I want to cry. “Sixteen? Seventeen?”

My eyes widen and I laugh. “No way! Let me see.”

You meet my eyes, your face turning crimson. Of course, there were hidden ones, I immediately feel like I overstepped and go to apologize when you speak. “It’s a lot of random ones, all over. I added some stuff to the rib piece.” That one you show me, you lift up your sweater, and I feel my dick twitch.

Pervert. Dirty pervert. It’s been fifteen years, put your dick away.

The cluster of wildflowers that started from your ribs to your hip had added roses to different spots they ended up entwining into a beautiful ivy vine, before falling off towards your back. I notice the bottom of a small piece on your sternum, and you pull your sweater back down.

“That’s beautiful.” I tell her, smiling. “What have you been doing these last fifteen years?”

“Well, I moved out of Hawkins.” I smile at that, she always wanted to leave that place. “I moved to Maine, I bought myself my own little cabin in the woods. I’m a nurse at the local hospital there.”

My heart practically bursts with pride, and I laugh. “See? You don’t have to be famous to have your own cabin. That’s wonderful, I know that was always a dream of yours, becoming a nurse.”

“Yeah, it’s fulfilling. Heartbreaking 99% of the time but fulfilling.” Your eyes fix on mine again, and we just share comfortable silence as we stare at one another.

“Your eyes are sad.” You say suddenly.

“What?” I snap myself back down to my reality; it was easy to get lost in your eyes.

“You look like you’ve been through hell and back again. Sorry for being blunt, I’m just sorry for whatever is bothering you.” Your eyes show me that same familiar kindness, and I smile awkwardly at you.

“I’m okay.” I tell you, only half lying.

You place your hand over my ringed fingers, gently entwining them. I stare at our hands, and gaze back into your eyes. “What am I doing here?” I whisper to you. I can feel my heart do another back flip, and my brain screams at me to get up and run because I can still feel your love.

Your fingers gently move over the bumps on my rings, and your eyes dart to mine. You spot the small silver chain around my neck, half tucked in my shirt, and you lift your hand to gently pull out the red guitar pick. You finger the plastic and smile. “Wow. You kept this all these years.”

“Of course, I did. I never take it off.” Except when I used to shoot dope, but that’s beside the point. I swallow the lump in my throat. “Sweetheart, why am I here?”

You sigh, giving me a sad smile. “Would it be weird if I said that I really fucking miss you? And for the last fifteen years, I haven’tstopped thinking about you.”

Heart exploding.

My breath hitches and my eyes widen slightly. “But…I hurt you…and I left—"

“I know, I know you did, but” you take my hand again. “Eddie, we were best friends. Since before we could even say those words. You were so important to me. You’re still important to me. How could we throw that away?”

I stare at you, reading your face, gazing at the shape of your mouth, the way your hair falls in waves, the curves of your breasts. I squeeze my eyes shut, pulling my hand away from yours. “You wouldn’t think that anymore once you know what I’ve done, who I’ve become.”

“Then tell me.” You say softly, your eyes dart from my lips, to my eyes. I stare at your lips, remembering how perfectly they fit against mine, how soft they were. How eager you would be when your tongue would slip into my mouth, deepening the kiss, your soft moans vibrating against my mouth as I carefully push myself inside you.

I meet your eyes; you’re waiting for me to say something. I shake my head, running my hands over my hair. I sigh. “How long you got?”

You look at your wrist at a fake watch. “About a week.” I laugh and lean back in my seat, sipping my coffee.

Yeah, I missed you too.

*~*~*~*~*~*

Special shout out to: @trixyvixx @originalstar1 @iggyizalien @themorticians-world

& so many of you who supported my last series.

I wouldn’t continue writing if it weren’t for you guys giving me the motivation to do it. Love you all!

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x fluff #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x smut #eddie munson fanfic #stranger things #eddie munson fem!reader #eddie munson comfort #rockstar eddie munson #Spotify

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teyamsatan · 1 year

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The Archer | Chapter IX: Safe and Sound (All is Found)

Chapter I Chapter II Chapter III Chapter IV Chapter V Chapter VI Chapter VII Chapter VIII Chapter IX Chapter X

Summary: You and Kiri wander into the unknown in your search for the eldest Sully, whilst he's forced to come to terms with his own mortality and make a choice between a comfortable past and an uncertain future.

Pairings: Neteyam x Avatar!Reader

Word Count: 10,5k words

Warnings/notes: angst (lots and lots of angst), mentions of death, blood, violence, cursing, some fluff.

A/N: Surprise! This is not the last chapter of The Archer!!! I tried to finish it, I really did, but there was no way to do it justice in just one chapter, so I hope you will be happy to know I am working on the actual last chapter right now and that should hopefully come out on Monday. We're almost at the end and I am incredibly emotional thinking of this series finishing, and I hope you guys have enjoyed coming on this 200k word journey with me. I love you all so so much and thank you for reblogging, for replying, for commenting and following, you mean the world. Enjoy x

↳ *Spotify playlist* ༉‧₊˚✧

Just close your eyes, the sun is going down

You'll be alright, no one can hurt you now

Come morning light, you and I'll be safe and sound

You had a miscarriage. You had a miscarriage. You had a miscarriage.

Even unconscious, the four words swam in your mind, unable to drown them out, their weight drowning you instead.

You had a miscarriage. You had a miscarriage. You had a miscarriage.

Neteyam knew then, clearer than ever, that something was wrong. This was all wrong. How was he in the forest? How were you here? How were you breathing this air? How were you so tall? When did they come back to the forest? Why was he always in between states of consciousness? What the hell was going on??

He pushed you off him and watched as you confusedly got up and try to shake off the nap with a wobble of your head.

“What the hell, Neteyam?”

His gaze hardened taking you in, taking whoever or whatever you were in, and he spoke angrily.

“Who the hell are you?”

“What do you mean who the hell am I? I’m me.”

“You can’t be you, because you’re human. You can’t be you because you’re as tall as a Na’vi girl and you’re breathing in our air. You haven’t been human in a long time. So who are you?”

He watched as you look at him intently, and your expression finally settled on a look of acknowledgement.

“Ah… you’re finally remembering.”

Neteyam battled a splitting headache as he tried to make sense of something that didn’t make any sort of sense in his mind.

“So, the memory of us in the marui, the morning of us waking up together, swimming, that is real?”

Your brows furrowed at his words, and you looked like you were thinking hard about your next words.

“I don’t know, Neteyam. It might have been real, it most likely was.”

“How can you be you and not remember? Stop fucking playing with me. I’m tired of this, I just want to know the truth.”

Your temper rose quickly, clear as day on your face, just like it always was - you’ve never been able to keep it at bay.

“I’m not playing with you, Neteyam! I can’t help you. I’m here for you, do you understand? You have to figure this out for yourself. I can’t say anything until you figure it out yourself.”

Neteyam sighed deeply, closing his eyes tightly and bringing his fingers to the bridge of his nose, trying to alleviate the headache that felt like would break him in two if it kept going. Think, Neteyam.

“Ok, then what can you tell me?”

“I’m here for you. It’s me. I’m just not… fuck. Not the me you know anymore.”

You looked scared as you pushed the last words out, and looked around you for something to happen, darting your eyes to the sky and to the forest enveloping you both. Almost as on command, he felt the world disintegrate around him and his vision dulled, and he knew he was going to sleep again. Your voice screamed at him as you were being pulled from his grasp once more. Don’t leave, don’t leave me again.

“Think of everything that’s happened since you arrived, play it all back. Think of your dreams. Just think, Neteyam. I’m here for you.”

You didn’t know how much time passed when you woke up, but you saw that it was light, so it was at least a few hours. The morphine drip was empty, as you were, and so the pain was back full force, reminding you what you had and what you lost. You had a miscarriage.

You had been pregnant. Your mind fluttered to the pills you kept by your and Neteyam’s mat, the pills you completely forgot about since the return to the tulkun, since the night Neteyam came in you, since you begged him to. The death of Roa and her calf took your attention away the next morning, and then all hell broke loose. You didn’t even know how long it had been since then. A week? A bit more? A week…

There are full years in people’s lives, decades in which life is dull, boring and uneventful. Unwavering truths and comfortable routines, you knew very little of. Your life was always a storm, always chaotic, always moving. Your life was adapt or die always and still, still, there were moments, unfrequent moments where even that chaos was subdued and middling - that was your peace. But then when chaos came, it was a tornado. It was a hurricane ready to tear everything in its path apart. There were no half measures in your life. No little disasters. Only death, only mass destruction, only loss so grave it burned everything good to ashes on the ground.

“Just fucking admit you don’t want to have my kids. You don’t want a family.”

“You know what? You are right. I don’t want a baby with you.”

You did this. You did it once more. You managed to ruin yet another thing in your life, like you couldn’t seem to be able to help yourself. Neteyam was in a coma because of you. Your dad was dead because of you. The baby you spitefully told Neteyam you didn’t want is gone, and you knew then even if Neteyam did come back, he would never forgive you for this. Because you put it out there, in the universe, in the wind, and Eywa heard you. And Eywa listened.

You forcefully removed all the needles in your body and made your way slowly, painfully towards your mate’s still body, and felt blood pouring from within you. Every step hurt so badly it was splitting you in half, and you remembered the pain of the virus slowly taking over your body, slowly eating you from the inside out and it felt like greeting an old, familiar friend. You said a silent thank you to whomever dressed you in thick loincloths that absorbed all the liquid spilling out, and sat down slowly next to Neteyam. You could hear voices from the outside of the marui, your family, whispering away, low voices almost like a hum, almost like a song.

“Neteyam…?” Crying came so easily to you recently it felt like second nature after all this time, so perpetual and constant, it felt like you spent more time doing it than not.

“I’m not trying to rush you or anything… but now would be a really good time for you to wake up. Just… just please wake up.”

“I’m sorry. I am so so sorry. I miss you so much, and I know you probably hate me, and I know you’ll probably hate me even more when you come back, and I am willing to accept it, I am willing to live my whole life earning your forgiveness, but I need you to be in it. I need you. Please, come back to me so I don’t feel so alone anymore.”

What was that?

A voice. Faint and echoed, barely there, but he heard it. Your voice. Your voice swimming in his subconscious, floating in his dormant mind, waking him up.

“I’m sorry. I am so so sorry…”

“…I know you probably hate me…”

“…I need you…”

Another dream enveloped him masterfully, tugging at him until he woke up, in the ship again - that damned ship. A dream he’s had before, a nightmare, horrid and anguished. He braced himself for the pain he already knew was coming, for the terror he’s had to live through so many times now he knew its every beat by heart. The humans. The Avatars. The guns - theirs and his. The noise as the bullets left, the way his mind stopped for a split second every time he heard someone go down because of him, because of his shots. The guilt eating at him, mixed with the anger and rage he felt for his planet, for these monsters, the fear for his siblings, for you, the sick hope that this could all be over soon. He felt it all, he lived it all - over and over and over. The sharp sting as a bullet pierced his body, in one way, out the other. The uneven stream of consciousness. Your body, his family’s bodies, sprawled all over him as he gave his last breath. He saw it all. He lived it all.

He lived it all. Not a dream. A memory.

A memory. His death was a memory.

You finally decided it was time to step into the light of the day outside your marui and face your family, although the thought of having to think about it, speak about it, watch them be sad about it close to made you pass out again. Regardless, you had to brave through it. You had to, because there was still a long road ahead. And you had a job to do now. You had to bury your dad, and then you had to go to the Spirit Tree. Everyone’s eyes shot up to your slow-moving figure as you approached them, a cocktail of emotions on their faces - from shock, to sadness, to curiosity and confusion, to grief, it was all the emotions you were feeling and didn’t want to anymore.

Lo’ak hurried to your side and took an arm and plopped it on his shoulders as one of his hands found yours, and the other your midriff, holding you in place.

“I got you, Angel.”

You smiled and looked at the side of his face and at the two beaded braids swinging with every step. “Thank you, brother.”

Multiple hands reached out to help you sit down, and you convulsed in pain as your body made contact with the floor.

“What are you doing out of bed?” Norm’s hand didn’t let you go, stretching your arm to look at it and tsk-ing at you annoyedly when he saw small purple marks where you yanked your IV needles out of your arms. The back of his hand then moved to your forehead, trying to gauge your temperature.

“Your fever’s down. How are you feeling?”

You were slightly shy at the small crowd of people staring at you, clinging to your every word. You wanted to lie, to say you were fine, but you didn’t have it in you to deceive these people anymore.

“I don’t know.” The tears that had stained your cheeks were long gone, but new ones weren’t far behind, as the weight of the past few days was slowly bearing down on you.

“In a few days, I lost a dad, a mate and a baby I didn’t even know I had. I don’t know how I am.”

You felt Neytiri’s arm on your back, slowly patting it up and down in an effort to console you. If anyone got what you went through, you imagined it’s her. Still, you felt so alone. More alone than you’ve ever felt in this life or the last. Even at your lowest, even that horrible whole 17th year, even that couldn’t compare. Nothing could compare to the catastrophic wave that crushed you like a tsunami and kept you there, unable to get up, unable to come up for air. You had so many people around you, so much family, and yet you’ve never felt more isolated.

Suddenly, you saw most of them get up and leave quietly, with only a slight tug of your shoulder or a kiss of your cheek or on the top of your head - all of them, except for Jake. He scooted over to where you were until his legs were parallel to yours and almost touching you. He looked at the water as he spoke.

“I thought you might want some peace and quiet.”

You nodded softly. “Thank you.”

“I’m so sorry, baby girl. I know there are no words, no words that could ever make this better, but I want you to know I am sorry.”

“Yeah… me too.”

His gaze shifted to the marui, and you followed his gaze to Neteyam’s body, resting on his mat.

“I miss him so much, kid.”

“I think he’s going to hate me, if he ever comes back.” You couldn’t help the way your voice broke halfway through the sentence.

Jake’s head snapped to you again, a confounded look on his face.

“What are you saying, kid? Why would you say that? My son could never hate you.”

“He’ll hate me. I know he will.”

Jake said nothing as he waited for you to continue. You cried softly as you tried to calm your mind by focusing on the fish swimming peacefully by your feet.

“Before the ship, before Payakan, we got into a fight. A big fight, probably the biggest we’ve ever had. The message, the one on the tulkun… I knew what it meant. I lied to you, to all of you. It was a message from my dad to me. He told me to meet him and I did, I went by myself at night.”

You didn’t look at Jake as you spoke but you felt his whole body stiffen next to yours, and there was no more warmth radiating off of him. Your heart was racing in your chest as you registered the changes and how mad he probably was.

“That’s when I forgave him… kind of. There was still so much unresolved, so much him and I still had to talk about. But when I came back, Neteyam was waiting for me. He was really mad, just like you are now. He… accused me of conspiring with the enemies, of putting him and your family in danger. He poured out all of his frustrations with me, including the one that hurt him most: that he felt I didn’t want a family with him. That I didn’t want his babies. I was so mad, so angry at how quickly he jumped the gun, how he always held so much in until it always exploded in my face, so I just told him that he was right. And that I don’t. And now I lost his baby. I lost his baby because of what I said, and he’s going to think it too and he’s never going to forgive me for it.”

Silence fell in between you, heavy silence, so heavy you felt its weight bearing down on you and the cries turned to sobs, the only sounds that could be heard.

“You know, kid, me and my family didn’t have the best relationship. A lot like your dad, I took to the military to get away from them all. Unlike your dad, though, I was the asshole. I was reckless and impulsive, and felt the constant need to prove myself. My brother, Tommy, he was the smart one. So smart, top of the class his whole life, valedictorian, model student. Got his PhD at 20, got the opportunity of a lifetime to come study on Pandora. A good kid, too. The perfect son, the perfect brother. I couldn’t stand it. The better he did, the worse I did. The more I wanted to prove how unlike him I was, how I was going to make my own path in life.” He scoffed at himself, at the memories of the past.

“I did well, too. In the army. I was good. I gained independence and everything I ever wanted. But I pushed them all away. My mother, and father, and Tommy. I didn’t see them for years. When I lost my legs and had to be shipped back, I was all alone. My fault, my own doing. I knew it, all along, how wrong I was, that all these people ever did was love me - and Tommy’s biggest fault was being a kind and compassionate person, a good brother. When he died, I felt empty. The guilt came later, it came at night, on Pandora, as I felt like I got another chance at life, a life I literally took from him. It came when I got accepted into the Clan, when I fell in love with Neytiri. It comes now, when I see the rivalry between Lo’ak and Neteyam and I know I created it. I see it when I see that Lo’ak is just a carbon copy of myself and my mistakes, and the more I try to steer him away the more I turn him into me. And I see Tommy in Neteyam, every day.”

“You can’t blame yourself for what happened, baby girl. There is so much you’ve had to endure, and no person in the world, much less Neteyam, would be surprised all the pain and stress took its toll on your body. You lost so much, and you gave so much to make sure Neteyam lived, how could he ever blame you? How could he ever hate you?”

“Throughout his whole life, both your lives, you have been Neteyam’s solace. His light, isn’t that what he calls you? I had to watch him lie to us and sneak out for years to come to you, no matter how much he inherited his distaste of humans from Neytiri, we still could never keep him away from that lab.” he chuckled to himself. “I had to watch him suffer for a year when he left, knowing there’s nothing I can do to help him - or you. I love my wife, I love her with my whole heart, more than I could love anything else, but the love you and Neteyam have, I’ve never seen anything like it as long as I have been alive. So I wouldn’t worry too much about it.”

“Wait… you knew about Neteyam sneaking out at night?”

Jake rose his eyebrow at you. “D’you think we’re stupid, kid? I mean it didn’t click from the get go, he had good excuses for a while, but after a few months, we realised he didn’t just have to… what did he used to say…?” He thought about it for a second. His eyes widened and finger wagged in the air as he remember. “Ah, yes! Release himself… for a few hours every night, ha! We were worried and we punished him the first few times we caught him, but it didn’t matter. So when we asked Norm and he told us he was there, safe in your room, we let it go. Did he never tell you?”

“No… he never told me.” He wanted to protect you, he didn’t want you to know he was being punished for sneaking out to see you.

“Wait… Norm knew too?” You groaned at the thought, your little bubble of privacy bursting suddenly.

“I know you like to think you’re the smartest person in the room, and you know what, kid? You are, but we’re not old, oblivious farts just yet.”

“Aw, pops. Never thought you were. Just thought we were being sneaky and getting away with it. Sorry.”

“Don’t apologise. The thing is, kid, neither you or Neteyam have ever really been children. And a lot of this is our fault… my fault. You were both forced to grow up much faster than you should have. You’ve both always known your own minds and hearts very well, and we knew quite soon you were inseparable. Keeping you two apart would have been as easy as parting mountains, so eventually we just let you be.”

You smiled a little at Jake’s confession, and sighed deeply as soon as you thought about Neteyam again. About the horrible circumstances that led to this conversation.

“What if I won’t be able to have children again? What if this was my only chance? Our only chance?”

He laughed a little and took you in his arms, and your head was now in his chest, crying quietly.

“I wouldn’t stress about that, kid. I think between the two of us, me and Neteyam will be able to coach our own football team soon.”

“Ew, gross.”

He laughed some more, a real dad laugh, and you did too, surprised that he somehow managed to elevate your mood.

Later, in the tent, the two middle siblings rejoined you as you were being checked by Norm and Max. You felt uncomfortable talking about this around so many people, your siblings, but you also wanted to be open, wanted to share in your pain and burdens, as you knew they wanted you to. You’ve kept to yourself your whole life, and this grief, the grief of losing Neteyam, of losing a baby that would have been their little niece or nephew, that you knew they would have adored and cared for every day of its life, you all had to suffer through together. So you allowed them to stay.

“How is the bleeding?”

“It’s manageable. Almost like a heavy period, I think?”

“That’s good. Let us know if it becomes worse, alright?” He eyed you intently. “Do you hear me, Ace? You can’t do what you always do, this is serious. You have to tell us.”

“I will tell you. I promise.”

“Good. Now, you have options. You can wait for it to pass naturally, or we can give you pills for it, but that will mean taking the helo back to the forest, we don’t have the pills with us.”

“I’ll wait.”

“…Alright. You will be bleeding for up to three weeks. Physical recovery from a miscarriage can take up to 2 months. That means no swimming, Ace.”

You shook your head.

“Ace…”

“Angel, you have to listen to them. You can’t put your health at risk anymore.”

“Zip it, Lo’ak. You of all people cannot give me a lecture on putting my health at risk.”

Kiri scoffed in Lo’ak direction, but turned to you, a stern look on her face.

“My stupid brother has a point. You have to stay here.”

“No, I have to bury my dad. And there’s one more thing I need to do. And then I’ll rest, I promise. No exercise for as long as you want, promise.”

“What else do you need to do?”

Your eyes flickered in between Lo’ak and Kiri, as well as the two scientists who all eyed you keenly. You wanted to tell them, wanted to so badly - deadly afraid of more secrets, more things to keep hidden deep in your soul until they burst out of you inevitably, leaving damage in their wake. But the thought of giving them false hope, the thought of seeing their spirit reborn as they hear Neteyam might be alright, might be within reach in Eywa, only to have it be taken away once more, killed you. It tortured you, it haunted you. You’ve spent your whole life having parts of your soul stripped away a piece at a time, so many years of being emptied out with every blow until you were a hollow shell of your former self - you were built for this. They weren’t. They had a life to live, a future to experience - endless adventures and happiness that you would make sure to protect and honour as much as you could. Because that’s what Neteyam did. Because that’s what siblings do.

At the same time, another thought, a worse thought gnawed at you - what if Neteyam was alright, what if you could bring him back, and you allowed his family to think of the worst, to assume their son, their sibling, their hero might never return to them? To make them stew in the pain that took so much from you, that gutted you and took your breath away, the pain that alleviated a little as soon as you chatted with Norm, it was cruel. It was winless fight, a lose-lose situation. But you knew if it was you, you’d want to know.

They deserve to know. They deserve the respect of being thought of as strong enough to handle themselves and the situations presented to them. They weren’t kids anymore. And they were never just any kids anyway. They were the kids of the Toruk Makto, of Palulukan Makto, of one of the greatest scientists that ever lived. They were Omatikaya kids, forced in fire. They had withstood wars and trials most people can’t even imagine. They were strong, and capable. You watched them grow up, you were there to watch them and love them, and now it was time to trust them.

“OK… Norm, can you stop that for a second? I need to talk to all of you.” Everyone was so focused on you, it was making you nervous. Thinking of Tsireya’s swimming lessons, you took a deep breath in and breathed out slowly, carefully, trying to imagine flickering a flame. You felt your heartbeat slow down in you chest and when it was normal again, you spoke.

“Before we were about to leave for my dad’s funeral, before… everything happened, Norm showed me something strange happening in Neteyam’s brain. A seizure.” Your eyes settled on Kiri. “A seizure like the one you went through at the Spirit Tree.” Kiri gasped slowly and took your arm, squeezing gently.

“That means…”

She’s always been quick, you thought proudly. “Yes. I think that Neteyam’s in Eywa. I think the seizures are visions… like the ones I got when I died. Now, I don’t want to raise your hopes up. I don’t know if it’s true. I don’t know anything. All I know is, it’s worth a try. So I will go and plug into the Spirit Tree after the funeral and try to find him and bring him back.”

“I want to come. I can help.”

You have to admit that you thought about it. You wanted Kiri to come with, her deep and unexplainable connection wit Eywa a possible advantage in your endeavour, but your mind flickered to her seizure, Max’s words ringing painfully in your ears. “If she seizes underwater again, it could kill her.”

Norm beat you to it. “Kiri, I don’t think you should plug into the Spirit Tree underwater anymore.”

“Look, I can do this.” She sighed, and looked at her fidgety fingers. “During the ship attack… I killed people.”

The same expression was mirrored in the faces all around you, deep concern and shock clearly visible in your eyes. “What?”

“I connected to some plants underwater and I… I used them to kill humans. I controlled them with my mind. Then I did it again when I was able to control glowing fish to find mum and Tuk in the ship. Something’s changed, guys. I can feel her, her power coursing through my veins. I can help. I can get us to Neteyam.”

Although taken aback, Kiri’s powers came with little surprise to you. You’ve guessed all along she had a bigger role to play than anyone could have ever foreseen, but to see her come into her own and discover them slowly, to watch it unfold, it was magical.

“A bleeding mess and a seizing mess, going together to revive our protective, loving, neurotic mess. How can this possibly go wrong?” You rolled your eyes, but were secretly happy you didn’t have to do this by yourself, that you had your sister to rely on.

Neteyam was gasping so loudly, panting violently as the memory faded. His eyes were unfocused and his lungs were on fire, and his hand shot to his chest at the pain that shot through him, feeling for a wound that wasn’t there, for blood that refused to spill. He patted himself and looked at his hand, and there was nothing. Nothing.

“You’re here for me.”

Neteyam’s whole body froze, eyes fixed on your own wide ones, just waiting to see the words that will come out of his mouth.

“I’m dead… I’m dead, aren’t I?”

Your eyes softened and then closed, taking a deep breath in and exhaling it slowly through your mouth. You nodded meekly. The tears that formed in your eyes only angered Neteyam, who felt his blood heating up in his veins until they bubbled, threatening to spill outside his body.

“I am dead and you have been toying with me, playing mind games and singing songs for Eywa knows how long?! What the fuck is wrong with you? Who even are you?”

You winced at his harsh words, the movement allowing for your tears to fall freely down you face.

“I couldn’t tell you, Neteyam. I’m not allowed to tell you. The last time I saw you, when you came to the Spirit Tree, I said too much and was immediately pushed out of your vision. Every time I said anything ever since you came back, you fell back into a liminal state of being and I was taken away.”

Neteyam’s head was spinning, world moving chaotically around him and he felt the need to sit, to ground himself to what he knew. He lowered his body next to the river bank, and allowed the water to rush over his calves, the murmuring sounds and rushing stream calming his nerves and heart. He didn’t look at you.

“Now that I remembered, can you just tell me?”

He heard your footsteps approaching behind him and you found a place on the floor next to him, one leg in the river while the other was bent at the knee, propped against his thigh. He saw your eyes tracing his side profile in his periphery and turned to face you, your beauty so overwhelming it made him ache. Seeing you with his memory intact, seeing you human for the first time in a year, your eyes and hair, your soft skin and beauty marks, your nose, your lips, it brought back feelings in him that he didn’t realise he even had. So much sadness for this you he’d lost, that he thought he’d lost forever, so much yearning to feel you, feel your much colder body, your more defined curves, your scent. So many memories of the girl he grew up with, so tiny and vulnerable, so fiery and wild, so sad and wise beyond her years, memories of the forest, his own upbringing, his own life. You were like a walking, talking reminder of the past, a past he loved, a past of joy, and love and adventures, of hope and childhood. A past long gone.

“Who are you? How is it possible that you are here? You are alive.”

You looked towards the river and sighed, thinking before you spoke.

“I’m me. I just don’t think I’m the same me as the one currently alive. I think when I did the consciousness transfer, a part of me, the human part of me, stayed behind. I’ve been here, in this forest, for a long time. I was so confused, for so long. I was just here, in this clearing, all alone.

And then one day, I got this dream. This horrible nightmare. I saw you, on a ship. I saw you fighting with Spider and Lo’ak, fighting humans and… blue men, like Avatars? I saw you getting shot. I saw you getting pulled to a rock. I saw you die, I saw myself losing everything in an instant.

Over time, I’d see glimpses. Of you, and your life. Of me. I saw the love, and the fights. I saw the late night ikran rides, and the passion so wild it could light the whole forest on fire. I saw your frustrations, and my own, grow in size. I saw us leaving, I saw us dreaming - for a future, a better one. One where we’d get to be free.

And then one day… you came. And I was so happy to see you again. And so scared. But I knew then that that’s why I’m here. That’s my purpose. My purpose here is you. I am here to be your light. To guide you. I just don’t know if I’m supposed to be guiding you back home or in the afterlife.”

Neteyam’s skin was littered with goosebumps at your words, at their implication, at knowing even in his afterlife, it was just you and him. You were his light, since the moment you were born and for the rest of eternity. He turned to fully face you, his pose mirroring your own now, and he took your face gently in both his hands, and wiped the tears from your warm cheeks with his thumbs. His face lowered to yours and your foreheads touched, the proximity almost unbearable in the feelings it invoked in him. He breathed you in and noted how unlike your Avatar body, you still smelled like the snapshots of the lab and of human concoctions you called perfume, sweet and mellow, and so, so familiar. You stood like that, motionless in this moment he didn’t want to ever end. If this was death, he was happy to oblige it, happy to indulge in it for the rest of time.

“I can’t believe it’s you. I can’t believe you’re here, that just like we talked about when we were 8, this is our heaven. That we can be in here together.”

“Neteyam… you can still go back. You can still choose to live.”

Neteyam removed his forehead from yours and looked at your eyes, sad and willing him to listen, to hear you out. Your hand wrapped around his wrist and you started caressing up and down his forearm in a consoling motion.

“What?”

“I had a choice. And so do you. I was so scared when I first saw you, but so relieved at the same time. I have been alone for so long, and you are the only one, the only one I ever wanted to see again. But I knew that if I were to ever see you again, that would mean my dream came true. And that scared me. That terrified me more than anything else. And if not seeing you again, being alone for all eternity was what it took for you to live, then I was happy with that. So I warned you, the best I could, but I was pulled out of the vision, and so were you. I realised then there are rules to this.

You have a choice to make, Neteyam, just like I did. No one can change that, no one can alter it. It has to come from you. You had to be able to remember you died, to remember what brought you here if you were to make that choice, and I couldn’t help you get there. Eywa doesn’t take sides.”

Neteyam was brought to a standstill. It was overwhelming, everything happening to him, everything he was going through and his mind finally remembered you, the real you, and his family that he left behind when he died. He felt so sick, so selfish having it just dawned on him that this didn’t just concern him. And although he had you, even in this life, you - the real you didn’t have him anymore. His parents, his siblings - they didn’t have him anymore.

“Can you see…? You said you get glimpses… of my life, of your life. Please tell me you’re ok. Please tell me my family is ok.”

You looked sad, so sad. Your lips pursed in a tight line and you shook your head slowly.

“Were you ok when I died?”

The immediate pain that he always felt as soon as he remembers the moment you gave your last breath in that lab, the power it still held over him even so long after, even whilst holding you taut against his body and feeling your strong heartbeat and looking into your eyes, that shimmered like the night sky, almost knocked him straight to the ground in agony.

“I had a choice. And so do you.” A choice. A choice between life and death. Between the future and the past. Between the ocean and the forest. Between his kids that he’s always dreamt of having, and the possibility of you never wanting your own. The choice between a happy afterlife or a scary, death-filled future.

“Did you know? When it happened to you?”

“Yes… I did.”

“You said you saw auntie Jo when you died. You said you saw Earth, and her old house. Why am I here?”

You smiled warmly up at him, tears making a temporary home in the two dimples on the side of your mouth.

“I think we go where we most want to go. I think we see what we longed for the most in life. The closer I got to dying, the more I needed my mum. I wanted to see her again, I wanted to see what her life was like, before me, before all of this. There was so much trauma I had because of her death, and it was the thing that my soul yearned for the most, I think. Just one last chance to hear her voice. For you… it’s this forest. What you wanted the most was to go home. And you wanted a family. You got to see the family we would have had that you envisioned when I was still human. Back before the Sky People returned, back before everything became complicated and messy. Back in the past, where our biggest concern was that we loved each other too much - too much for a human and a Na’vi.”

Neteyam thought long and hard about the situation he faced - that he found himself in. This choice, it was tugging at his heart painfully, it was tearing him apart. He thought it would be simple. It should be simple. Life or death, right? It’s as simple as it gets. Except death had everything he’s ever wanted and none of the things he didn’t want, none of the insecurities, and the pain and the fear, none of the uncertainty or the fights, none of the terror of thinking he might lose his family, he might lose you. None of the responsibilities, none of forsaken dreams, none of the forgotten plans. Death had you, the you he fell in love with, the you that he grew up with, the you that was ever-present in most of his most precious memories. Death had the kids, his kids, his perfect kids and the forest. It had this clearing, and happiness, and joy. It had peace.

He didn’t realise he was hyperventilating, tears blurring his vision until he felt your hand on his chest, over his heart, your touch bringing him much needed solace.

“Why is this so hard? Why does my heart hurt so badly?”

“I think it’s hard because you know deep in your heart what you want. You know what you want to do, and thinking about the consequences hurts you. But you have to say it, Neteyam. You have to acknowledge it.”

He didn’t think he could say it, could bring himself to admit it out loud. But he had to. He owed himself that, and the people waiting for him to come back.

“I don’t know if I want to go back.”

Right before eclipse, Jake and Neytiri returned to your tent, and with a deep sigh, you adjusted your clothes you have been wearing since before you passed out, and felt ready to finally do this.

“It’s time, baby girl.”

You nodded softly and felt grateful for your family, which was surrounding you on all sides, holding your hands and shoulders, making sure you knew and felt their presence and their support - both of which you needed desperately, especially now. You all got on ilu and started making your way in silence towards the Cove of the Ancestors. It would be your first time seeing it; you tried to suppress the wince that was threatening to escape you at the memory of the fight that ensued after you chose spending time with Lo’ak over coming to this place the first time, with your mate. What you wouldn’t give for those fights now, for any opportunity to see him and hear his voice ring in your ears.

As you entered underneath a few columns, you were speechless at the beauty, the indescribable beauty displayed for your eyes to see. Floating islands, and zenith arches stood tall and mighty as the underwater nature illuminated the cove brightly in kaleidoscopic hues. It was breathtaking, it was beyond your wildest dreams. Neteyam was right to be upset. You would have given anything to see this with him, and hated yourself a little at denying you both this once-in-a-lifetime chance.

The whole of the Metkayina clan was waiting for you, solemn and dignified, dressed in mournful garbs and intricate jewellery adorning their beautiful cyan bodies. Your dad was placed in a floating enclosure, filled with sea water and flowers, and emotion bubbled in your chest at his sight. Ronal, Tonowari and their two children looked at you and your family, and you greeted them in the Na’vi way, trying to pour every ounce of gratitude seeded in your soul to them, for the way they took your dad in, for the way they were offering him eternity in Eywa. I see you.

You took him and moved him slowly away from the crowd from the back of your ilu, and you made your way to the place you knew you would have to give him to the sea forever. His new forever home, where he could finally be free - free of burden, free of guilt, free of the world that took so much from him. Once you reached, you dismounted and saw with slight surprise as Jake did the same. You put your hands on your dad and he put his hands on yours, squeezing them gently.

“I got you, kid.”

You let out a soft sob at the gesture, feeling an outpouring of love for this man who was the only father figure you’ve ever known, the only father you had left, who stepped in at a time you were close to falling apart and helped you heal, and helped you where no one else could. With a small nod and a deep breath in, you submerged and slowly took your dad with you, to the seabed covered in yellow anemone. With one last goodbye and tears that got lost in the water all around you, you let him go, and watched as he was slowly engulfed in them, where he will rest for now, where he will rest for life.

Goodbye, dad. We’ll meet each other again, one day, and then, we’ll be able to finally be a family.

Gideon woke up in a bed, a bed he didn’t recognise initially. It had been so long since he’s been in this room, in this place. The realisation came from all around him, from the sound of songs he’s heard a million times before playing softly in the background, from the smell of a specific type of laundry detergent his nose was incredibly familiar with, from the cracks in the ceiling that Gideon memorised by heart in time.

“Up and at ‘em, sleepy head.”

The pressure of a small body tucked against him finally registered in his mind, and the voice brought clarity to everything, to his whole life and his whole existence. His eyes dropped to the ones already looking at him, playful and curious, and oh, oh so beautiful. The shock shot through his whole body, electrifying every inch of him, every part of his brain, waking him up like from a death sleep and into a weightless consciousness, fully alert to her, and only her.

“Marj?”

“I can’t believe you’re here. I never thought I’d see you again.”

“I don’t understand, Jo. Is this heaven?”

“It is now. Welcome home, my love.”

Once the funeral was over, the Metkayina slowly started making their way back to their village, as did your family.

“Will you be ok, kid?”

“Yes. I just want to see something at the Tree of Souls, if that’s ok.”

You looked fixedly at Lo’ak and Kiri, who nodded slowly, and you knew the plan was in motion.

“Ok, we will go back. We will see you back home. Don’t stay out late, you shouldn’t be swimming anyhow.”

“Will do. I’ll have Kiri and Lo’ak to keep me safe, just in case.”

Jake looked pointedly at Lo’ak. “Keep her safe. Safe. Do you understand?”

“Lima Charlie.”

The Metkayina Spirit Tree was a sight to behold, and even despite the pain and hurt, you were in awe of its majestic beauty. It was unlike anything you have ever seen before, and you were saddened at the thought your dad never got to see it. Your mum never got to see it. You think they would have loved it, revelled in it as much as you were, as much as you knew Neteyam did. You swam down until you reached one of the many leaves glowing brightly around you, and with a last look at Lo’ak, who was waiting for you on the surface, you held Kiri’s hand as you brought your queue forward.

“Remember. Think of him, as hard as you can. Think of where he could be.” Kiri signed to you before always reaching for her queue and, when you nodded, you both connected to the same leaf, almost overlapping each other. Air flooded your lungs, giving you breath as if from an oxygen pack, and as your eyes closed, you felt your soul transported through planes of existence, to the one you’ve been before, to the one Neteyam was. You knew where he’d be, there was no doubt in your mind that you’d find him in your clearing, in the forest, where you both said you’d spend the rest of eternity when eternity came and knocked on your door.

Sure enough, the sounds and smells and sights of the Omatikaya forest came sharply into focus, and your heart boomed in your chest taking it all in, taking home in. You knew where you were, not quite in the clearing yet, but close. Kiri’s hand tightened in yours as she joined you, and you saw her looking around, adjusting to the new environment.

“We’re… back home.”

You smiled and nodded. “This is where Neteyam and I decided our heaven would be when we were 8 years old. This is where we knew we’d always be, arrested in time, just him and I, together forever. We knew, even back then.” You pointed in the direction you needed to go. “It’s just beyond these trees.”

You let go of her hand and went in front of her, leading the way. As you stepped into the meadow, you were blinded by the rays of sun which blessed it and by your own tears at this place that meant so much, that you never thought you’d see again before your death.

You let out a loud gasp when your vision cleared and in it stood Neteyam, eyes closed as he was sprawled on the ground, a look of peaceful meditation on his face. You ran panting until you reached him, kneeling by his body and grabbing his face in both your hands, having to fight the urge to shake him wildly, shake him awake, shake him alive again. You tried to calm your breath and your heartbeat to no avail, no Metkayina trick in the book able to help you this time, not when you were right, not when he was here, not when you were one step closer to getting him back. You faintly heard Kiri crying softly, sounds muffled by your own mind blocking anything out that wasn’t him.

“Neteyam…?” You caressed his face gently, allowing your fingers to wonder all over it, feeling the sharp angle of his jaw, the soft swell of his lips, his eyelashes, the defined curve of his cheekbones. You touched his braids, those wild braids that mesmerised you, their liveliness and swing always putting you in a hypnotic trance, focusing your world on him and only him. You touched his ears, that twitched slightly under your touch and your eyebrows shot up in wonder and the movement, the only movement you’ve seen in him for days.

“Neteyam… please wake up. I’m here, we’re here. We’re here to take you home. Please.”

His eyes fluttered open and with it so did your chest and it felt like your ribcage was split apart in two and the animal that was trapped in it, thrashing and screaming, kicking at the bars, desperate for release, flew away, leaving you a sobbing mess on his chest, gripping onto him like it was the first time you have ever seen him, like he was your heart’s most sought after desire and any hesitation on your part would mean losing him forever. He was, he always has been - your most sought after desire, your reason for existing.

Your voice brought him out of another dream, memories of the past fluttering past his mind’s eye and settling on nights in the forest, swimming in the pond, running his fingers through your hair, kissing you until he ran out of breath, claiming your body until you were both so spent you didn’t know how you’d make it back home in the morning. He heard you sharing your deepest fantasies and secrets while you patiently redid his braids, spilling promises of love forever, of adoration and gratitude, for each moment you got to be in each other’s embrace, for every night you got to make up for the ones you lost; anecdotes about your time apart and how much you missed each other after all. Recalling times and feelings and musing at how despite how everything’s changed around you - you two haven’t, not to each other, not in any way that matters. You were still each other’s homes, just like you have been since the moment you were born.

His mind quieted when his eyes took you in, not the you he expected to see at all, but a blue you, beautifully striped, and kneeling next to him, face buried in his chest. He shifted his gaze somewhere behind you, and another shock rocked his system at the sight of his baby sister, crying silently, hand covering her mouth to stop the sounds threatening to spill out. His arms wrapped tightly around you and his hands caressed your hair gently and he couldn’t believe the relief that washed over him as you scent overwhelmed him, as your presence drowned everything else in this world but you. You found him. He realised then you were there to guide him home. No matter what path he would choose, stay here or go back, one of you would be there to lead the way, to show him the light - to be the light.

“Hi.”

Your eyes shot up to his face, wide and puffy, red and saturated in tears and his thumb settled over your quivering lips, stuck in this moment with you, trapped in the unmatched beauty of your gaze, by all the love and pain clearly on the surface, by everything else hidden in its depths.

“Hi! Hi, hi, hi! Oh my God, hi! I found you. I really found you.”

Your hands made their way around his neck and your face found its place on a part of his body that felt like it was carved for that purpose alone. This way, he was able to focus on the form staring at you two, sitting on the far side of the clearing, away from view. Neteyam heard his sister’s breath get knocked out of her lungs and when she found her voice, a small squeal came out.

“Um, ok…this is the weirdest thing I’ve ever seen, that’s for sure.”

“Ouch, Kiri. None taken.”

Neteyam felt you stiffen in his arms, as the voice speaking registered in your ears. You removed your body from him and looked at him with deep fear displayed clearly on your features. Your raised eyebrows dropped a little as he gave you a small smile, tightening his grip on your forearm.

“I think there’s someone you should meet.”

With shallow breaths and widened eyes, you turned around and wrapped your hand around your mate and squeezed as you assimilated the image unfolding in front of your eyes. It was… you. Your mind flashed to the day you first saw your Avatar body, and how weird it felt, seeing yourself like that, almost like an out-of-body experience. The memory shifted to seeing yourself as a weak, meek human after the consciousness transfer, the first time in your life seeing your human body from outside itself, thinking about how few humans, how few beings are able to ever experience this feeling, this insane, supernatural occurrence. Your mind finally settled on the present, at the girl you knew too well, the body you hated for so long, the body you missed as you had to let it go and were disappointed you couldn’t meet her warm smile with anything other than a grimace.

“How…?”

You got up and made your way carefully to her… to you… until you were face to face. She looked so different to what you always thought you looked like when you inhabited this body. She was… more beautiful than you ever thought. What made her… you… beautiful was the spark in your eye as they fixated on something you found interesting - in this particular case, your new blue body -, the way your nose crinkled a little while you smiled, the way two dimples formed in your cheeks that were rosy and full and…alive. Your curiosity got the better of you and almost involuntarily, you raised a hand and poked the human version of yourself staring at you with a finger.

“How are you here?”

She chuckled a little. “Let’s just say I’m your ghost of Christmas Past.”

The human you smiled at your confused guise. She playfully slapped your hand away and bend her head a little to look past you, at Neteyam.

“I can be a bit annoying sometimes, can’t I?”

“Hey!”

There was laughter all around you as both Neteyam and Kiri found human you a tad funnier at the moment than you would have liked.

“And I can be a pain in the ass sometimes, can’t I?”

Neteyam’s body immediately resolved any annoyance building up in you as he got close to you, and the way his proximity made you feel, the way you got to feel it - feel him - again, was almost too much to bear. You couldn’t believe he was here. Couldn’t believe he was awake, and alive, and touching you like he did, in the way he did that drove you crazy, that sent shivers down every inch of your being. You couldn’t believe you got to feel this way again, couldn’t believe you’d have a lifetime to make up for all the mistakes you made, to make up for the time you were forced apart yet again.

“You’re my pain in the ass.” You turned around to face him, eyebrow raised and he groaned lowly.

“I had a choice. And so do you.” A choice. A choice between seeing his siblings grow up and being there to love them and guide them or only glimpses of the future. A choice between growing old with you, getting to love you and evolve together, as you have all your life or clinging to the past. A choice between seeing his parents be grandparents, pass on their knowledge and experience or never seeing them again. A choice between claiming back his home, fighting for his people or cowering in a fantasy for the rest of time. A choice between seeing what his real kids, your real kids would look like, who they would grow up to be, and being there to witness every single day or glimpses of his past desires manifested like a storybook. A choice between life or death. Between the future or the past. As he looked into your amber eyes, soft and glimmering like the night sky, he knew there was only one answer.

He kissed you, with all his might, and felt light pour out of every corner of his being at the contact. You. The real you. The only you. He couldn’t believe how blind he’d been, blinded by his fears and insecurities, blinded by the incertitude of a unknown future, desperate to cling to a version of his world that was comfortable and familiar, a version of a life he’d dreamt when he was just a boy. He loved you so much, every part of you, every side of you, every body you inhabited because it didn’t matter if you were human or Na’vi, as long as he got to brave the world with you next to him.

“Let’s go home, Atan.”

Your cries filled the forest, happy tears sliding over his fingers as he held your face tightly in his hands. You couldn’t help the sobs that escaped you, couldn’t help the way you clung onto him like you would never ever let him go again. You didn’t think you would. You knew your fingers must hurt his arms with how hard you were digging into them, but you couldn’t care, not when the thought of letting go ripped apart your insides like an angry rabid animal.

“Neteyam… Neteyam…”

“Come on. I want to hold you in my arms for real, I want to see your face back home. Let’s go, Atan.”

He continued to caress your cheeks to remove the tears that wouldn’t stop, and when he realised you didn’t want to budge, he eventually pulled you into a hug that you both needed, that you needed more than life itself. You stood like that until your legs hurt, and when you fell slowly to the ground, he followed, not breaking the embrace - not for anything in this world or the next, not for any world. You sat on the ground, legs intertwined, flush against his chest until the forest started to slowly fade away from view.

“It’s time to go.” You heard Kiri’s calm, deep voice suppressed by the sound of your cries and shallow breaths.

You removed your head form his chest and pulled his face down to look at it.

“I’ll see you at home? In the marui? I’ll just come and you’ll be there?”

“I’ll be there. I promise. You will never get rid of me again. Deal?”

A half-sob, half-laugh made its way of your mouth, but you exhaled a sigh of relief as you spoke. “Deal, yawne.”

Neteyam felt anguished as he turned around to face your human astral projection, but as his fingers wrapped tightly around your own striped ones, he knew that the past is nothing compared to all he has to look forward to with you by his side. More and more of the world was slowly fading from view, and Neteyam knew it was time to say goodbye - forever, this time.

“What will happen to you now?”

“I’m not sure. Now I have guided you, I don’t know what my purpose is.”

“I will miss you so much.”

“I will miss you, too. So much, you will never be able to know. But I still have you, I can still see you, in glimpses of the world you live in. And you still have me.” You nodded in the direction of your Avatar body. “A little bluer, a little taller, but definitely an improved version of myself.”

“And one day, hopefully a really, really long time from now, you will see me again. Neteyam, I have always been your light, but you have always been my rock. You have always been what has grounded me, kept me going. And I know real life is not as beautiful, or whimsical, or perfect as this world right here. But it’s real. And in it, I will continue to be your light, and you will continue to be her…my rock. And whatever else comes, we’ll always brave it together. Just like we have all of our lives.”

Neteyam watched as you turned your attention to the other you, the real you.

“I know you are scared. You are so scared it hurts, it keeps you up at night. But don’t be so scared of the world you forget to live in it, you forget to revel in it. That you forget what really matters. There’s always going to be reasons to say no, always going to be reasons to push back, to postpone, and the truth is no moment will ever be perfect, but this world… it takes so much, it takes so fast, and when it does, what would you want to remember of it? What would you want to flash before your eyes before you go? I know what it is, because I am you. So just do it. Let yourself be vulnerable, once in your life. And see what comes of it.”

You both looked at each other, looked at yourselves, so different but yet the same, a mirror to the past and the present, of what you’ve been through and what you managed to accomplish, who you managed to become. You closed the gap and wrapped each other in a hug. A bear hug, a hug you both needed.

“Thank you. For keeping the past in here, for taking it so I can keep going. Thank you for everything, for guiding him home. For bringing him back to me.”

“I’m proud of you. Mum would be proud of you.”

You let go, tears swimming in your eyes, and with a small smile, Neteyam watched you turn around and make your way towards the light, your own light.

Your hand found Neteyam’s and your amber eyes found each other, and you couldn’t believe it still - that he was here, that he was still here, still yours. You had so much to say, so much to talk to him about, so much to apologise for, but you couldn’t, as your thoughts and words were interrupted by a scene unfolding in front of you. You followed two figures, ethereal and beautiful, emanating glow and light all around them, appear in front of human you, of past you. You inhaled loudly when the realisation hit, the stunned realisation that those were your parents. Your mum and dad, holding hands and smiling widely towards you.

“We’re here for you, my child. We can go home. We can finally be a family. I missed you so much, bunny.”

Tears were falling freely down your face, seeing a vision you have dreamt about your whole life, you have wished for in your deepest fantasies, in all your best, most out-of-reach dreams, and you felt at peace, for the first time in a long time, maybe the first time in your life, knowing that Heaven was real, and in it, so was your family.

Come, my darling, homeward bound

When all is lost, then all is found

Taglist (thank you ily x) @changing7 @erenjaegerwifee @im-in-a-pansexual-panik @winchestertitties @puffb4ll @rebeccao03 @ultimatebluff @cottoncandy23 @zaddyneteyamlovergirl @n3t3y4msm4t3 @loquatious-josephi-krakousky @eternallyvenus @fresh-new-yoik-watah @lu-the-ghost-reader @@miawastakens @mm0thie @fanboyluvr @amortencjja @lovekeeho @trixscarlett

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wttcsms · 1 year

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Hihi i saw ur request box was open & i just couldnt resist! A big confession to make here, uhh ive been such a big fan of u and yr writings and also u were the v first fanfic blog i came across a couple years ago so yea, u literally open my third eye to a whole new world of fics👉👈 🥺

i feel like you havent written angst in a while–and bc i miss ur angsty haikyuu fics– sooo could i request post-breakup college!au with atsumu or iwai (honestly anyone who'd best fit the scenario cuz i trust ur characterization👌) abt the aftermath of the breakup, them seeing us on campus and unconsciously following us with their eyes, reschin to help out on instinct only to realize theyre no longer together, thinking about what could've been just reminisce reminisce

ahhhh im sry honestly dont know how to expand more on the idea

thank you for stealing my ficvirginity😃

pairing atsumu miya x f!reader word count 2.1k content contains exes still in love, college!au, mutual pining author's notes hi <3 i remember you (eycee, right?). don't be a stranger! you can always dm me and say hello :) thank you for the constant support. not sure if this fic is angsty enough, but i wanted yours to be the first req i do <3

“Hi, welcome in! Let me know if— Oh.”

Your voice falters, recognition and maybe even something similar to embarrassment flits across your face, and a split second later, you go back to smiling like nothing’s wrong. Like the two of you haven’t spent the better half of this month actively avoiding each other at all costs, even though the sprawling acres of the University of Tokyo suddenly feels too small. The entirety of Japan has felt too small ever since it became his mission to never cross paths with you ever again.

This mission of his started just a little over two weeks ago, on the very same day you decide to use his heart as your own punching bag. The worst part of it all, though, is the fact that he doesn’t even hold any type of contempt for you. It’s a cruel sort of joke; sometimes, Atsumu Miya feels like everything bad that happens to him is just some sort of sick punchline in a sitcom instead of real life.

Usually, when girlfriends find out their high school sweetheart is going to be a wildly successful (and rich) professional athlete, they’ll do anything in their power to hang onto him.

You decided to snip the invisible string tying the two of you together, and you did it so effortlessly, so quickly, that Atsumu had to make sure that he hadn’t been imagining the last four years of your relationship.

He’s got his hands shoved in his pockets, and he’s torn between staring at you like a total creep or looking at everything in the campus bookstore but you. He settles for the former, scared that this will be his last opportunity to really look at you.

Neither of you is saying anything. It’s a Saturday and so no one else is even in the bookstore this morning, and Atsumu wants to say something, anything, but he’s never been that great at carefully picking his words, and he’s scared out of his mind that he’ll say something stupid and prove once and for all that you had been right to break up with him. Better yet, he wants you to say something. He wants you to give him a better explanation instead of the bullshit you told him in his apartment.

We just want different things.

What does that even mean? He thinks he would have shouted out that question, if only your little break up speech hadn’t caught him so off guard. Different things? The two of you wanted different things? Sure, Atsumu likes to sleep in a freezing cold apartment, and you need the room to actually be at a reasonable temperature. And maybe Atsumu has a penchant for overly fried, greasy foods when all you want (and deserve) is a fancy dinner. Maybe Atsumu wants to be at a sports store instead of browsing aisle after aisle in Sephora, but he doubts these different wants have accumulated so much that you felt you had no choice but to break his heart.

“Hey, Miya.” You say it softly, dropping the perky customer service voice you greeted him with before you turned around and realized who he was. And he flinches. He fucking visibly cringes at the way you speak to him, walking on eggshells and going back to formalities like he’s barely above a stranger to you.

Miya.

(Did you know that he wanted to make that your last name?

Do you know that he still does, even now?)

“Hey,” he replies back, curling his fingers into fists inside his pocket. He thinks his voice comes out all scratchy, like how it always sounds when you don’t use your voice nearly enough. He clears his throat awkwardly. Everything feels awkward; everything feels wrong. He says “hey”, but what he really means to say is please don’t call me Miya; you know the color of my toothbrush, you don’t have to call me Miya.

“Were you looking for something?”

You.

Subconsciously, Atsumu finds himself seeking you out. He walks by another girl on campus and almost breaks his neck with the speed he turns around to catch a whiff of the perfume wafting from her body because he swears it’s the same fragrance you favor. He walks by the building that houses all the classrooms for your specific major, even though it’s located on the opposite side of his own classes because he secretly hopes against all hope that he’ll run into you, and you’ll see him and fall in love with him again. He goes to the same restaurants the two of you frequently ate at together, and he orders your usual because you can never finish your entire meal and always have him finish off the leftovers for you (and the food is always good, but somehow it doesn’t taste the same when your utensils haven’t touched it first). And he doesn’t even need to be here, doesn’t even care enough about his stupid class to go out of his way to buy the study guide, but he knows you’ve started picking up the weekend shifts at the campus bookstore, and suddenly, he cares enough about passing to get the damn study guide.

He shrugs. “Just some stupid workbook to study for an upcoming exam, but it’s not that serious.”

“Oh. Is Dr. Furata giving you a hard time again?”

“How do you do that?” Atsumu blurts out, wanting to kick himself for giving too much of himself away. You already own every centimeter of his heart and maybe his soul. You don’t need anything else from him; he’s almost certain there’s nothing left for him to give you, but he can’t help but impulsively ask the damn question that’s been running through his mind ever since you left him behind.

Did you know that when you’re confused, your brows furrow together, and you get this adorable, endearing crinkle in between them? Do you know that he still finds that same expression as cute as he did when you still called yourself his girlfriend?

“What are you talking about?”

How can you just stand there and act like you never crushed his heart? How do you wake up in the morning and not feel like your life is missing something important, like you’ll never feel whole again? How can you keep him wrapped around your finger, and then have the audacity to not even realize it? How did you let him go so quickly?

Practicing caution, he swallows hard before clarifying, “How do you know everything?” Because if you can act like he’s just a polite acquaintance, like he’s nothing more than another fellow classmate, he can try to play pretend too. He can act like there’s not enough history between the two of you to fill up every damn textbook in this stupid store. “Yeah, Dr. Furata’s been on everyone’s ass. Somethin’ about midterm grades being worth a quarter of our overall grade.”

“Believe me, you’re not the first victim of Dr. Furata’s to come wandering in the store. I think I have a few more of the workbooks he suggested in stock. Let me go check.”

It’s instinct at this point for Atsumu to just follow you. If he uses his imagination, it’s almost like he’s back to browsing in a makeup store, walking aimlessly in every aisle, following you loyally because he’s happy to have you lead the way and he doesn’t care where he ends up, so long as you’re there with him.

But this isn’t an afternoon date with you. This is him following a bookstore employee. After you find that study guide, which is really nothing more than his flimsy excuse for seeking you out, you’re going to ask him “card or cash?”, ring him up at the register, and he’s going to walk out that door and have to act like he’s still not in love with you. All the while, you’re doing fine. You’re fine right now, and you’re going to be fine when he leaves, and you’re probably going to be fine, five years down the line, when you’re happy with someone else and Atsumu is alone because in this little hypothetical, he still hasn’t gotten over you.

He is trailing behind you in this bookstore, and your back is facing him, and he’s panicking because he doesn’t think he’s capable of not loving you.

Just two weeks ago, you knew him better than anyone else in the world, maybe even better than Osamu, perhaps even better than he knows himself. Now, you just give him a polite smile as you grab the small stool to reach the books located at the very top of the shelf.

“God, I hate the way we organize everything in the store.” You say, lightheartedly complaining. He knows you do. He knows because he’s known you for nearly a decade. The two of you have grown up together. You made this same complaint sprawled out on the couch in his apartment.

When he doesn’t reply, you look down to see if something’s the matter, only to do it too quickly that you find yourself losing your balance. Before you can come crashing to the floor, Atsumu is quick to catch you, and you pretend that his protective embrace isn’t comforting. You pretend not to notice that he’s wearing the cologne you bought him for Christmas last year, and you continue to pretend that you don’t miss him at all, that you don’t still love him.

And for a second, the two of you both pretend that you’re still with each other. That it’s perfectly okay to savor this intimate moment, that his arms wrapped around your body right now isn’t awkward in the slightest. He’s staring at you with a sort of starstruck, boylike wonder, and it’s so familiar, so sweet, because it’s the way he always used to look at you. His lips part slightly, like he’s about to say something, and—

The loud ring! interrupts whatever moment the two of you are sharing, and you nearly jump out of his arms. You hear the distinct footsteps of another student, and you adjust your shirt before remembering where the two of you are — what the two of you are. Not a couple. Barely even friends. Just a bookstore employee and a student that needs a book. That’s all the two of you are allowed to be.

“I should probably go check up front and make sure they don’t need any help.” You tell him, biting down on your lip. “Anyway, did you need anything else, or would you like me to check you out right now?”

He blinks a few times, as if still in a daze. “Uh, yeah, sure.” The tips of his ears are flushed a light pink. “Y-yeah, I’m done here.”

The two of you practically race each other to the front of the store, and you step behind the counter to scan his workbook. He drums his fingers, looking around the store. When he’s nervous, he likes to be moving. You know this.

Just looking for an excuse to use his hands, Atsumu mindlessly picks a pack of gum off a nearby rack and slides it towards you so you can also scan it. You know you shouldn’t say it. You know it’s supposed to be a clean break. Instead, you tell him,

“Actually, if you want, I have the fruit variety flavor.”

“Huh?” This catches his attention.

You reach into one of the boxes that have just been shipped to the store, rummaging through a tiny one before revealing a shiny, new package of gum, this one advertising all the flavors based on tropical fruits. “Would you rather have this one?”

“Oh, yeah!” As if truly forgetting what the two of you actually are (exes, strangers with too much history, two people still pretending like they’re not in love), his eyes light up. “How did you kno—” He doesn’t finish the question. He knows the answer to the question.

You’re quick to finish ringing him up, the “polite strangers” illusion being completely shattered. It’s obvious, really, that there are always going to be parts of Atsumu that still live deep inside of you. You can only hope that this isn’t the case for him.

You hand him the bag, and when he grabs it from you, your fingers just barely graze each other’s. Atsumu is scared — scared that this might be the last time he ever feels your touch.

And because you’re a glutton for punishment, you find yourself telling him,

“Don’t be a stranger.”

You can’t tell who’s more devastated: you or him.

#atsumu miya x reader #miya x reader #atsumu x reader #atsumu x you #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu angst #hq angst #one shot #drabble #imagine #haikyuu fanfiction #wttcsms writing warmups #this fic is so taylor coded btw #'please don't ever become a stranger's whose laugh i could recognize anywhere'#< that's literally reader n atsumu rn #wanted to leave it vague but #reader breaks up w atsumu bc they're both going in diff directions in life and she doesn't want to 'hold him back'#EVEN THOUGH ATSUMU WOULD REARRANGE HIS WHOLE LIFE FOR HER AND FOLLOW HER ANYWHERE #but she wants him to do whatever HE wants

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objectum-culture-is · 9 days

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you mentioned tht you wanted more partner/crush gushing so here you go!!

i have three partners!! of them, ive known gordon the longest. he was a catalyst to me realizing i'm objectum, actually! he was the result of an in-joke between friends, the two of us bought life-sized plastic skeletons to "marry". they were definitely joking with theirs, but i got extremely domestic & attached to him. he sat on this chair next to my bed and i'd kiss him on the head every morning & every night. he's fallen apart since then- he's only a head now, but i still love him so dearly. there's also a banjo, and she has. several grease-themed nicknames. i was planning on learning the guitar, but ended up with the most beautiful four-stringed banjo instead! she's so beautiful,, i'm thinking of getting her some guitar strap adapters & a nice strap so i can play her more often <3 i feel so bad about not playing her more but shes so heavy im scared ill drop her :(( even before i knew i was objectum ive been calling her my wife. i remember the first week i was with her i only played like 1 song.. i spent most of my time just sitting with her on my lap touching her strings. i still do sometimes the most recent of my partners is a ukulele! we met in a super romcom way, actually. i was on my way home one day & i saw this absolutely gorgeous ukulele *FLY TIPPED* on the side of the road. they were literally perfect too?? i guess they had some very superficial chips in their wood but its like handsome in a rugged mountain man kinda way. i carried them on the train all the way home, cleaned em up with disinfectant wipes and got to tuning. i guess the rest is history

Omg Gordan sounds like he's been so well loved! Banjo sounds gorgeous, i love that you want to get her things that'll make it easier to interact with her! And the story of how you met your ukulele partner is so beautiful, omg I'm so glad you found them they sound like they bring you so much happiness 😊

#objectum #actually objectum #objectum culture is not #mod jelly speaks #personal objectum stories #objectum partner #i love hearing about peoples partners and crushes omg

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ottoslab · 8 months

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not to be extremely predictable abt the characters i ask abt but do you imagine any of the p7 are still around during or right before the future au? i know they are. Old. but i always am fond of the concept of like the old folks helping out at the camp after pn2.

Im always so very tossed up about how and If the p7 are still around during the aac timeline . But for the sake of “it would be funny if,” I will simply say they Are. (And ramble more about the thoughts ive had about a couple that might Not be and Why under a cut bc its kind of depressing)

Otto will never die and will never leave the Motherlobe much to Hollis and Truman’s dismay. The older he gets the more powerful he gets. He continues to contribute, arguably with increasing efficiency, but as each year passes he gets less and less concerned about getting caught doing things outside of the parameters of Psychonauts rules. “What are you gonna do? Fire me? Lmao” *goes back to working on his death beam that he just made because it was funny.*

I have this hc that at some point Sam makes it her mission to renovate the Lumberstack Diner as the Questionable Area? becomes more profitable over the years. And i think Compton working as a cook there would be a nice little job for him to have while in retirement. Cooking is like the one type of stress he can handle i think. Hes so so scared but in the comfort of something familiar so its less likely to cause him to start blowing things up.

Bob and Helmut deserve a nice little retirement home and I think theyre the primary residents of the Gulch (next to maybe Cassie and Compton?) They supervise (re: sometimes run into and chat with) Raz and his team who have basically taken up their own residence in the Gulch. Perks of being teammates with agent Aquato and Zanotto is that you dont have to resort to dormitories.

I’m not sure what’s up with Cassie! I don’t think she’s doing much either, probably also sticking around the Gulch. Though i think through the support of the others she at least gets Slightly more involved with the Psychonauts or going out into towns to do book signings so that she doesn’t become a complete and total recluse again.

I think Ford and Lucy are out traveling a lot while they’ve still got the time to. Making up for a whole lotta lost time n all that, giving each other time to talk and jazz. They’re not around a lot but they visit often!

Ok. And a very specific less sweet outcome for Ford and Lucy under the cut

When i run through which characters it would be like. Narratively “Best” to have passed away around the AAC timeline, my mind always immediately jumps to these two. Like obviously I think some characters would be more likely to have died before them (looking at you my friend Bob) or ones that could be more impactful in other directions (Cassie and Compton having to learn to exist without one another) but considering their last narrative experiences in Pn2 was finding each other again for the first time in years, it feels like any of those four (Bob, Helmut, Cassie, Compton) passing away would just be a disservice to prior storytelling. And Otto will never die, as I’ve said, so don’t even worry about him <3

I just think a lot about a story in which Ford and Lucy pass on before Raz can ever really reconcile any of his issues he had with either of them. A story in which he’s happy to see them getting along and traveling together, but every time they leave he holds his breath and counts down the days until they make it back and he can guarantee they’re still alive and he goes “This time, this time I’ll say something,” and then he doesn’t because how do you even bring up that conversation after all this time.

And then eventually they pass and it’s almost poetic, really, going at around the same time. But he never got to say anything to them, never got to reconcile and barely got a goodbye. And now he has to learn how to deal with that. How to deal with the fact that they’re still everywhere, in True Psychic Tales issues, on murals, on old pictures, inherently buried in the history of the psychonauts.

And i dont know. I think it’s an interesting story to explore. In a hypothetical real Psychonauts future story, you enter the story with some characters trying to question Raz about something theyre worried about that he always cuts off or dodges before you get to hear, but the lack of any mention of Ford or Lucy is so absent that it’s palpable. Stuff like that.

#psychonauts #agent aquato and co au #death mention tw #asks :0]

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queenie-blackthorn · 7 months

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in honor of world mental health day heres my story below the cut :)

kinda hard to talk abt this cause its somewhat triggering and ik theres gonna be ppl who think im just an emo 15 y/o, but i swear im not tryna be dramatic. im tryna make peace with my past, and also show others that despite everything, you can make it.

also, im tryna show that healing isnt all sunshine and daises. theres the good, the bad, and the ugly. you can and will survive it all

tw: sewerslide attempt, abusive parents, self harm, violence ig ?

ive died two times in my life so far.

the first time, it was my parents who killed me. december 31st, 2020, ~1.15am. i remember dragging across the hallway in my house, a throbbing sensation in my thigh, the mark already turning purple. i walked past my younger sisters' room, where my cousin was sleeping over with them, and i remember climbing into bed, hugging my pillow, crying against the pillow. that night, it was my innocence that died. my childhood happiness, per se. i remember swearing to myself in those final moments before darkness that id never forget that day. december 31st, 2020, ~1.15am.

the time between my two deaths was filled with barely anything other than self loathing. i remember trying to set goals for myself, reasons to live. i tried out new hobbies. i was never able to meet those goals, and all the hobbies bored me.

i met some of the best people ever during that time. i also met some of the worst. i might sound dramatic, cause im young and impressionable, but the people i met during that time genuinely shaped who i am. i dont wanna act like im an old soul or anything, cause im sure that in a few years imma look back and think, "shit, i was really immature." but i matured faster than others my age. i found myself faster, found things i liked, found love, found out i hated being in love.

and then i died again.

this was a recent death. june 22, 2023. my mental health had been deteriorating for months prior – i still have scars on my arms.

it was a slower death compared to the last one. i started dying at around 4.00pm. it went on for an hour before the pain became unbearable and i confessed to my parents. i didnt want to go to the hospital, i was scared of what theyd do. i threw up seven times before giving in at about 8.00pm. they took me to the hospital. i was told told me i was lucky to be alive, that my liver was still functional. i didnt feel lucky. i felt like death wouldve been less painful. my head was spinning

i died in that hospital bed, at ~9.40pm, with my eyes wide open, my mom sitting near me. my thoughts at the time were along the lines of this:

im quite literally a child in the eyes of the world. ive done nothing. i have a psychology exam tomorrow. i have a book im halfway done writing, and a new story thats been brewing in my head for months. but if i die now, ill never get to finish any of that. ill never succeed. ill never be able to spit in the faces of the girls who bullied me, of the teachers who doubted me. why would i do this to myself? why would i rob myself of that chance?

so i died. but not the same way as last time. this time, it was the poisonous me that died, the me that whispered in my ear that my life would amount to nothing, that everyone else had it better, that you either succeed or you dont.

and when i died the second time, something happened that didnt happen the first time.

i was reborn.

at the time of me writing this, its been less than four months since my rebirth. in those four months:

i decided to change the world somehow. not necessarily by finding the cure to cancer or anything, id be satisfied if it was just a cute lil video i made going viral. as long as theres someone out there who i changed

i finished about six chapters of my book

i began writing the story that had been brewing in my head

i started lifting weights to make myself feel better abt how i looked

i got closer to god. stopped missing prayer

i moved schools, leaving behind both bullies and friends

i started focusing on my studies

i tried to fix my relationships with my parents and my siblings

dont get me wrong. none of these are completed. im still an extreme case of nobody-ness. i havent finished writing either of my stories. i still skip out on working out a lot i still only do the bare minimum in terms of religion. im still struggling to catch up in school to make up for my three years of burnout. my relationship with my family is still kinda weird

and i still feel like im dying sometimes. its not like i changed overnight and all those suicidal thoughts and feelings of drowning just disappeared when the sunrays came up. theres still a lot of issues in my life.

but i have faith in myself. in my ability to change the things that can be changed. in creating happiness where theres room for it to be made.

and if finding happiness a losing battle?

well, ill fight like its the fucking boudican revolt.

#mental health day #world mental health day #october 10 #tw sewerslide attempt #tw mentions of death #tw mentions of self harm #tw self destructive behavior #road to recovery

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petitsdieu · 3 months

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FIVE SONGS for your muse.

I have a semi-recent (seven) song list from another tagged meme thing here.

FIVE QUOTES for your muse.

((I don't have source material like movie or book quotes but I do have amazing writing partners (current or not ) that treat my muse like a canon and give me the most lovely written excerpts that could have been ripped right out of a book. If I searched more, I could have probably found more. But here are some of my favs. God bless you all.))

i. (See the lamb’s flush betide her face; a bruise of muffled wanting.) (Behind Hara’s ear, hidden in her crown, is a softness kin to lambswool. She would hide it — bury it under garb and seam.) — written by @nightmarefuele

ii. ( i hate how fuckin stubborn you are. it’s 5 am and i cant sleep and i’ll probably never send this but...) (...i think it’s because you’re scared. you’re fucking scared of someone knowing you so you go for the ones who just see you as a play thing and don’t want to know you and then you sit there with your fuck me eyes and act like none of us can see straight through your act. well i see you, hara ora, bright as fuckin day. you don’t fool me) — written by @drugstoreglitter

iii. She was the damn antithesis of everything that he was: gentle, soft, good, perfect—he ought to have some guilt for wanting her this way, for knowing he was taking something far too fucking virtuous for a being such a malicious son of a bitch. But he doesn’t care. That’s the problem. He wants her. Selfishly, without regret, and with absolute no remorse. It should be a blaring red alarm for her to be signaled to stay the hell away from him. Whether she’s naive, or hopeful, or misguided on who he is… he cannot bring himself to care. She accepts him. And for that, he would devour her. — written by @godstrayed

iv. "You’ve never been so lost, Hara. Have you? Ah, but you have. Only now you feel its full brunt, that it spreads over your mouth like the weeds — and in so suffocating, you turn to an inexplicable oppressor. To me. You’re not sure which I am: vulgar, or obscure. And that beguiles you. Revives you. You’ve been dead, ogled inside an old king’s birdcage, for so long…" — written by @nightmarefuele

v. ...because it’s the energy she gives off, isn’t it, that, fuck me on speed kawaii angelic something that makes her head go all fucking spun, and yeah maybe hara’s less pastel pink and neon orange, but her existence looks streaked in glitter and glory and temporary flings and love and the way that something quick and easy can leave you feeling as if you were choking on the aftereffects of it, oh - it’s a hell of a lot, isn’t it. — written by @redemptioninterlude

vi. Wants to feel his hands all over her ; wants to find salvation in the sweet flavour of her sugared lips . Would pull the wings off angels just to pull moans from the depths of her core . Almost forgot how pleasantly overwhelming it is to make love to her. — written by an old rp partner that's no longer around / blog gone.

vii. Hara was obsessed with the idea of closing doors, of protecting what little she had of herself, for herself. And that was all fine and charming when you were on the outside, clamouring for an idea, a taste, of just what made that magic woman come to life. But in the reality, it was mud and sticks and stones that bore her, and inside, she sensed a deep emptiness… the way that she pushed people away, and howled at the proverbial moon, all the messages that she’d ever need to know just how fucked up she was. — written by @redemptioninterlude

viii. One, two … four. He counts drops as they wet Hara’s skin. Shimmering, like honey. Five. Would they taste like the buttery warmth of her lotion? He might run his tongue along the lattice of her veins. Lace himself inside her salt and skin. — written by @nightmarefuele

tagged by: the ever talented @corruptedforce tagging: @nightmarefuele @redemptioninterlude @v1ctimplagued @ofdrivensnow @fawnworked @everyoneismytoy @cava1ier @cnlyluck @luckhissoul @bakerscars @triicksters @unwaivering + ANYONE AND EVERYONE THIS IS A GOOD GOOD ONE. <3

#i'm feeling so sappy yall... thank you for tagging me in this #* filed under — ( ooc ) ( the director the writer the sap )

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hprarepairfest · 6 months

Text

Rare Pair Fest IV Works - Day 10

Some incredible ships to share today!!

Title: The Bet Author: @fiestylilmetalbendingqueen Ship: Narcissa Black Malfoy/Ginny Weasley, Minor or Background Relationship(s), Draco Malfoy/Ginny Weasley Prompt: #385 Rating: M Word Count: 3,893 Warnings: None Summary:

Ginny and Draco have been fuckbuddies for awhile but there's somebody else that catches Ginny's eye.

💞🍐💞

Title: Can't Fight the Moonlight Author: @phantomgrimalkin Ships: Draco/Harry, Remus/Draco, Remus/Harry, Remus/Harry/Draco Prompt: 274 Rating: E Word Count: 31,344 Warnings: None Summary:

Sirius was currently in America, on a three month motorcycle road trip he had been planning in his head since he was 12. It had taken Harry the better part of a decade to convince him to go, that the world wouldn't fall apart just because his adoptive father was doing something for himself.

So, of course, Harry got himself and Draco bitten by a werewolf two weeks into it.

Fortunately, Remus is there to help the new wolves adjust.

💞🍐💞

Title: Scared Author: @siriusly-sapphic Ship: Cho Chang/Marietta Edgecombe Prompt: #15 Rating: T Word Count: 1,160 Warnings: T Summary:

Cho comforts Marietta after she betrays Dumbledore's Army, and they realise how scared they both are of the war to come.

💞🍐💞

Title: Two of the Easiest Words in Gaelic Author: sky_watcher_rose Ship: Minerva McGonagall / Druella Rosier Black Prompt: Modern AU. Minerva had been teaching for several years now, and knew eventually that she would be teaching her old schoolmates' kids. And still, she's somehow nervous to have a parent-teacher conference with Druella Rosier. Rating: M Word Count: 28k (6 chapters plus epilogue) Warnings: N/A Summary:

Minerva will be the first to admit that Druella Rosier -now Druella Black - was the love of her life. But it’s been twenty years since they last saw each other, and she’s done her best to move on. When Druella unexpectedly arrives at a parents’ evening - the first she’s attended in the four years that Minerva has been teaching her children - both of them have to face up to certain feelings that never went away.

💞🍐💞

Title: if you hold me without hurting me, you'll be the first who ever did Author: psychiatristgirl Ships: Regulus Black/Peter Pettigrew, minor Sirius Black/Remus Lupin, minor James Potter/Lily Evans Prompt: self-prompt Rating: T Word Count: 3702 Warnings: Past sibling incest, Mentions of past child abuse Summary:

"Exactly," said Regulus. "It has been years. Why bother inviting them now?"

"Remus said they were close to our place. I couldn't not invite them. Besides, they are our friends—"

"Your friends," corrected Regulus waspishly, pushing the comb to his lover's chest. "I'm going out."

"Where to?"

Regulus paused, then sighed. "Groceries. All of them eat like pigs, and I'd loathe to serve up anything less than a perfect dinner."

Or: The past knocks on Regulus' door one evening. He muses on all the reasons he prefers the present.

🍐 See the whole collection revealed so far HERE! 🍐

#hp rare pairs #hp rare pair fest #hp fanfic #fanfiction #harry potter #hp fest #hp rare pair #narcissa malfoy #ginny weasley #draco malfoy #remus lupin #cho chang #marietta edgecombe #minerva mcgonagall #druella rosier #regulus black #peter pettigrew

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comfortjoonie · 1 year

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Hey, can you write one where Namjoon overworks himself and passes out and ends up in the hospital, and the members take care of him. Thank you.

hey guys sorry i've been gone so long! but I'm having more availability now! this was super fun to write! keep the requests coming guys!

Namjoon jolted awake as he heard his alarm go off. One hour of sleep. That was all he’d gotten, in between working on the lyrics for Jimin’s album, backing vocals for Seokjin’s song, and the new album for the whole band, and now, a group lunch. He stood up and pulled on his hoodie. He was so dizzy. He’d been working too hard to sleep, practicing dancing too much, writing lyrics day and night. His body ached and screamed for rest. But he wouldn’t give it. He had too much to do now.

He rushed out of the dorms as quickly as he could and called for a company car to the restaurant everyone was meeting at. As he got in the car, he was shaking. He could feel the driver’s eyes fixed on him as he eased himself into the seat and clamped the seatbelt over his lap. It was only a four minute drive, so he couldn’t sleep, but he could relax a little.

“Are you ok?” Namjoon heard the driver say to him softly halfway through the drive. Namjoon nodded.

“Fine. Just tired.” But he was out of breath. He was shaky and nauseous.

“Are you sure?”

“I just need to eat,” Namjoon replied, and the rest of the ride was silent.

When they arrived at the restaurant, Namjoon felt even weaker than before. He was still shaking, but he was also dizzy. He wasn’t sure how long it had been since he had eaten – he’d been so busy. It had been at least two days since he’d slept. He knew that.

He bowed and thanked the driver and shakily made his way into the restaurant. He bit his lip in worry when he didn’t see his members, but Jungkook making a quick call of his name guided him in the maknae’s direction.

Namjoon sat down slowly and smiled at his company. As much as he could, at least. He felt Jimin’s arm move around his back from the right and Hoseok’s hand go on his left thigh. The conversation with the rest of the members continued, but Jimin whispered into Namjoon’s ear with Hoseok listening.

“What’s wrong, hyung?”

Namjoon swallowed. “Nothing,” he whispered back.

Hoseok bit his lip. “You look terrible, Joon,” he said softly.

It irritated Namjoon in his sleeplessness, and he somewhat shoved both Jimin and Hoseok’s hands off of him. “Leave me alone,” he grumbled. He could feel Hoseok and Jimin both looking at him silently. He didn’t say anything. But all eyes at the table were turned to him now.

“What’s wrong, guys?” Seokjin asked.

“Nothing,” Namjoon said again, more forcefully this time. But he was feeling worse. He felt like he was running out of breath. He needed to get water before he passed out. He stood up, barely keeping his weight up. “I’m going to the bathroom,” he said.

Jimin stood up. “I have to go, too,” he said.

Namjoon just started walking away. But before he could get more than a few feet away from the table, his breath caught and he collapsed.

—

“Shit! Namjoon-ah!” Seokjin called out when Namjoon fell to the floor. Everyone stood up and rushed over to him. “Jimin-ah, call the ambulance.”

“What happened?” Yoongi asked, rushing over and squatting next to Namjoon.

Seokjin shook his shoulder gently. “Namjoon, wake up,” he whispered. “Namjoonie.”

Namjoon didn’t move an inch.

“The ambulance is on the way, hyung,” Jimin said.

“He’s so pale..” Yoongi observed. “Is he sick?”

Hoseok shook his head. “I don’t think so. He didn’t feel warm or anything.”

“This is really bad,” Jungkook said softly.

“He’ll be fine, Jungkook-ah,” Jin said. “He’ll wake up soon.”

—

When Namjoon woke up, he was at the hospital with an IV in his arm. His head hurt when he opened his eyes. He let out a small groan of pain when the bright lights hit him, and everyone looked at him.

“Hey, Joonie, you’re awake,” Seokjin smiled at him.

“You scared us to death,” Yoongi frowned and put his hand on Namjoon’s.

“What…happened?”

“You just fainted, Joonah,” Taehyung said. “How long has it been since you last slept?”

Namjoon winced. “At least two days…”

“Namjoon, you need rest,” Seokjin said, pushing the hair off Namjoon’s forehead and frowning.

“I’ve just been so–” “--busy? Namjoon, you need time for yourself too, though,” Hoseok said.

Namjoon felt tears squeezing at the corners of his eyes.

“I’m sorry,” he said softly.

“It’s ok, Joonie. We already called manager-nim to tell him you’re out for the rest of the week.”

“Week? But–”

“No buts. You need rest,” Hoseok smiled a little.

“When can I go home?”

“They want you here for another hour or so, just to keep you on the IV. You’ve been stressed too, they think. Your blood sugar is really low.”

“I…haven’t eaten in a while.” Namjoon admitted.

“That’s ok, Joon,” Seokjin reassured him. “They’ll keep you on these fluids for now. Just get some rest, ok?”

Namjoon nodded. “I can do that.”

#sick!namjoon #bts #sickfic #caretaker!hoseok #caretaker!jimin #caretaker!jungkook #caretaker!seokjin #caretaker!taehyung #caretaker!yoongi #btssickfic

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savethepinecones · 5 months

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1, 16, 20, 25! + any one of your choosing

1: what is your nickname?

i dont have any based on my name since its already v short but ive had internet folks call me pinecones or piney and i like those!

16: what do you think makes you attractive?

i think physically my eyes are my best feature but if were talking personality uhh i guess ive got a solid sense of humor?

20: whats a totally random and useless fact that you know?

every piece of knowledge ive ever had just abandoned me lol. if you feel like youre going to sneeze you can stop it by touching the tip of your tongue to the roof of your mouth a few times, like if you were saying la la la (i think i was told youre supposed to say "pineapple" but its the tongue thing thats the actually effective part)

25: do you/have you played any sports?

oh man. i did gymnastics for a bit when i was like four. tried ballet when i was seven but eventually decided to pursue piano instead (my mom had my sister and i try both for a year and then pick one to stick with). i also was on a soccer team at some point, maybe in first grade? i actually dont remember it at all but i vaguely remember looking at the team photos. also i remember the high socks lol. and then i briefly did softball in middle school because my childhood best friend had picked it up the year before and i wanted to fit in. im very asthmatic though so most if not all of these Did Not Go Well lol

and for the bonus one ill go with 19: a time that you told a lie

first off some important context for this is that i was raised mormon and every summer the church would have all the girls ages 13-17 go camping for like a week. they do hikes and crafts and devotionals etc. i think its all standard church camp type stuff.

so the first year i went they had the younger girls go on a short hike while the older ones went on a longer one. when we got back, a couple friends and i were curious about the longer hike so we decided to check the trail out during free time. we kept walking for quite a while. idk how long it was but we knew wed been gone long enough that people would have noticed we were missing. if i had to guess id say maybe an hour or so idk. anyway we got to a point where the path started to trail off and disappear so we decided to stop for a bit and then work our way back. we were in a pretty big meadow but there were some trees partway down a hill and one of my friends went down there to pee and carved some initials on a tree. i think she said she carved something for me and my crush at the time but i never saw it lol.

anyway eventually we started to head back and at some point we realized we were probably gonna get in trouble for disappearing. i was really worried about it but one of the girls was like "no dont worry about it ill take the blame" and suggested that we tell everyone that she had seen a deer and followed it and then the other girl and i went after her because we didnt want her to get lost in the woods alone.

about halfway back to camp we started hearing people calling our names. we kinda figured there might be some people looking for us but what we werent expecting was that they were men. remember, this is Girls Camp. usually the bishop would show up for a day or two but other than there werent any guys up there. turned out the bishop showed up while we were gone and some other guys whod driven up with him to drop off some food offered to help him look for us.

eventually the search party found us and we all stuck to our story when they asked us what had happened. i think we also said that initially wed been lost and really scared but then we said a prayer and just like that we found a path! and thats why they found us on a trail even though wed supposedly run off into the woods at random. it was very dramatic and spiritual. and also complete bullshit.

so we finally get back to camp and the leaders are all fretting over us. the girl who "followed the deer" did get a lecture about not chasing wild animals because they could be dangerous but that was about it. no big repurcussions.

that night we had a devotional, which is basically just the whole group sitting around the campfire and telling stories about when they felt the holy spirit or whatever. usually the leaders will start off by reading some scriptures or a talk from some church official and then theyll turn it over to the kids to talk about their experiences. in the middle of this, a deer wandered into the clearing near our camp. some of the girls pointed it out because cool, a deer. but the moment the three of us saw it, my friend who had supposedly followed a deer into the woods earlier that same day jumped up and shouted "thats the deer!"

for some reason everyone, including the adults, took it at face value that this random deer in the woods must be the exact same one wed supposedly seen earlier that day and also that it was some sort of sign that god had been looking out for us while we were "lost"

looking back on it now it doesnt really seem like a big lie but it felt like a huge deal at the time because we lied to The Bishop. for a long time i considered this to be the worst thing id ever done. we never came clean to anyone whod been there at the time and i dont think i even told my mom the real story until like a decade later lol

that story ended up being way longer than i thought it would be lol (ive told it before but never written the whole thing out so the word count is surprising) but its probably the most exciting lie ive got. the alternative stories are mostly like "i was super depressed but didnt think that would be considered a valid reason to bail on something so i said i had a migraine" so i think it was the best option despite the length. also its been a while since i thought about this and it made me nostalgic so yay

thanks for asking!! i had a lot of fun answering these (you can tell by how long this post ended up being lol)

#answered asks #thegoliathbeetle

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