#I hate recovering things I will feel dead for weeks now

[crucifixcavity]

I remember looking down at my feet on the stairs, thirteen years old. Eyes glazed over, feeling like if I even let go of one breath that I was holding…. my entire body would unravel and slip through the wooden cracks never to be seen again. That if I split apart for one moment you would sniff me out like a starving dog and devour the snapping threads of flesh until there was nothing left of me.

[norrizzandpia]

can we get pt 2 of 34+35 where yn releases nonsense or positions, everyone is more confused because are we talking about the same guy?? in response all yn does is mention his thighs 💀💀

YES MAAM OFC I LOVE THIS STORYLINE

WHO IS OSCAR PIASTRI? (OP81)

Summary: Oscar and Y/n always loved to mess with the fans. Fortunately, the best way to do that is spill their sex life.

Warnings: sexual conversations, language

Note: THE THIGHS 😫😫😫😫😫 SO MANY WORDS NOT ENOUGH TIME 🙏🏻🙏🏻🙏🏻

ynnn Nonsense out now! 💋

Comments:

osc81fan I- WHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

piaosc ARE WE SURE ALL OF US ARE TALKING ABT THE CORRECT MAN?

- mclarenpiaandlan YEAH WTF HOW IS THIS OSCAR

mclarensgirlll SHE DID THIS LAST TIME AND WE NEVER RECOVERED

- landonorris ILL NEVER RECOVER.

oscarpiastri ITS ABOUT MEEEEEEEE 🤭🤭

- danielricciardo we are aware.

- maxverstappen i think youve said that enough

- charlesleclerc YOURE SUPPOSED TO BE LITTLE OSCAR 😰😰😰

- ynnn definitely not LITTLE oscar 😏

- alexalbon STOP.

——

ynnn maybe i lied? Lookin’ at him doesn’t have me thinkin’ nonsense, it has me thinkin…

Comments:

oscarpiastri my girlfriend everyone 😀

- mclarensgirlll hes probably giggling at his phone at this very moment

- landonorris and youd be right!

maxverstappen IM SO SCARED FOR MY LIFE

- danielricciardo WE CANT ESCAPE IT

- alexalbon HE PLAYS THE SONGS EVERYWHERE

- landonorris IT NEVER ENDS.

ln4andop81 anyone else curious abt what shes going to say on that podcast next week where theyre infamous for asking abt sex????

- oscpastry i bet you oscar will forever be changed for us

- mclarensgirlll he already is 🥲

——

TWITTER

ln4andop81 IN HONOR OF 24 HOURS BEFORE Y/NS PODCAST EPISODE, DROP THE MOST SHOCKING LYRICS FROM NONSENSE DOWN BELOW

- oscpastry “you said you like my eyes and you like the make em roll” SOOOO BASICALLY WHEN WERE THOSE WORDS FALLING FROM OUR BABY’S LIPS????

- mclarenpiaandlan REAL BECAUSE HOW DOES HE EVEN KNOW WHAT THAT IS 😭😭

- mclarensgirlll I THINK THE LYRIC “opposite of soft” LET US KNOW HE IS WAYYYY MORE EXPERIENCED THAN WE THOUGHT

- piaosc DOM OSCAR????? FUCKING HOW. IN. WHAT. WORLD.

- ynnn this world! 💋

- piaosc IS THIS SOME SORT OF GAME???

- mclarenpiaandlan THE PATTERN IS PATTERNING

- mclarensgirlll ITS SO ICONIC MY BRAIN CANT HANDLE IT

——

TWITTER

ln4andop81 hows everyone doing after that podcast….

- mclarensgirlll “WHO IS OSCAR PIASTRI?” trending on twitter makes me feel less alone after listening to Y/n’s tell all

- mclarenpiaandlan host: “whats your favorite body part of oscar’s?” Y/n: “his thighs” BY THEN I ALREADY KNEW WHAT WAS COMING BUT THE HOST HAD TO KEEP GOING host: *giggling* “why?” Y/n: “10 out of 10 for riding” I THINK MY BRAIN WENT DEAD FOR A SEC

- piaosc GIRLY KEPT GOING TOO host: “did you ask or, like, how did that come about?” Y/n: “well, he was just kind of sitting there, manspread ya know, and he caught on the minute he saw the way i was looking at him. Ive never see him so excited before.” *laughing* “i think he enjoys it more than me!”

- ln4andop81 no words. Host: “so he knows you like his thighs?” Y/n: “Oh my god, yeah! I hate him for it but he purposefully wears his shortest pair of shorts around the house so when he sits, that’s all I see. I’m telling you, Oscar knows how much I love his body and he knows EXACTLY how to use it.” Host: “what do you mean?” Y/n: “just that the shirtless photo i posted of him is one of many and the rest of them could not be up on the internet for longer than 5 seconds before being taken down because they’re borderline all pornographic” OSCAR???? BABY BOY??? WHO ARE YOU.

- mclarensgirlll BRO AND THEN host: “your new song, Nonsense, mentions things being more rough than soft. Is that really true with him?” Y/n: “Are you kidding?! The fans who think he’s super innocent and pure are in for some serious whiplash when i say that he is anything but that. He’s not Oscar when we’re in bed. He’s some alter ego who has no problem fucking against a random wall.” UHHHHHHHHHHH RUE WHEN WAS THIS????

- oscarpiastri now THAT is one thing i wont be answering 😊

- ynnn knowing myself ill probably reveal it in some song in the future 🤦🏼‍♀️

- mclaren maybe try and hold off on that one plz bestie 😙

- landonorris ^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^🙏🏻

- danielricciardo ^^

- alexalbon ^^^

- maxverstappen ^

- charlesleclerc ^^^^

[live-laugh-neteyam]

97 & 98 w/ whoever from the 101 prompt thing.

maybe reader got shot in the spine and is recovering, but is stubborn and doesn't ask for help. they catch reader breaking down bc she can't stand long enough to wash herself.

maybe Jake bc he can relate w/ him being in a wheelchair previously or one of the boys (Ao'nung, Roxto, Lo'ak, Neteyam) bc they feel somewhat responsible.

can b platonic or romantic, idc.

Thanks!

Take Care Of You ||| sully family x omatikaya!reader

masterlist

pairings: sully family x omatikaya!fem!reader

summary: sully’s stick together

words: 1k

warnings/notes: injury, gunshot wounds, recovery, angst with sweet moments, use of y/n

It was never supposed to happen. The bullet wasn’t meant for you. But how could you just stand there and watch when your brother was in danger? Taking fate into your own hands you pushed Neteyam out of the line of fire.

You don’t remember much after that.

In and out of consciousness you remember Neteyam pleading with you to stay awake, your father looking over your wound, and your mother’s screams. The blood curdling screams of your mother was something that you could never forget.

A miracle.

That’s what Ronal said after examining you. The bullet lodged into your spine should’ve killed you, but Eywa had shown you mercy.

Lucky.

That’s what Norm said after extracting the bullet. Jake insisted on calling Norm and Max out to look at you. Not that he didn’t trust Na’vi medicine, but he was once human. Old habits die hard.

The first few months were hell. You weren’t dead but you felt like you were. You wished you were. It would be a long road to recovery and you weren’t sure you had the patience for it.

Especially when everyone looked at you the way they did. Eyes full of guilt and regret. The pity that flood their eyes. It made you feel sick to your stomach.

Your brothers weren’t very good at hiding their guilt. There was a part of you that felt bad for them. You knew they felt at fault and they were letting it eat at them.

“I thought you were a goner.” Lo’ak joked around. His laugh never reach his eyes though. You could see the fear they still held.

Neteyam was with you on the day you finally could sit up by yourself. He was proud of you, he truly felt happiness for your accomplishment. But the guilt was crawling it’s way back up.

You were no longer the mighty warrior he grew up with. You’d never be her again. That split second decision changed the course of your life for forever. Relearning even basic things, everything would now be a challenge for you.

Neteyam hated himself for it. It wasn’t supposed to be you.

Jake was able to keep his feelings to himself. Only letting it effect him in private. He was forced to watch you struggle every single day with nothing he could do to fix it.

He related all too well with what you were going through. Jake didn’t think he’d ever have to deal with something like this again after his consciousness transfer.

But there you were, his babygirl stubbornly trying to recover on her own. He cursed your hardheadedness but a part of him understood. Jake was the exact same way when he was a human. He couldn’t stand the looks of pity he’d received; it made him work harder to prove himself.

Jake blamed himself for what happened. A father protects and he couldn’t even do that. The whole point of uprooting his family was to protect them. Every time he looked at you he was reminded of his failure.

For the past few weeks you had been working on your mobility. Everyone told you to take it slow, not to overdo it. You couldn't help but rush into things, itching for the taste of freedom you missed terribly.

Reaching out for the walking stick your father had brought you, you attempted to stand up. Wincing you leaned onto the cane even more. With one hand you dipped a rag into the bowl of water by your bedside.

You felt gross. It had been months since you had a proper bath. This wasn't what you wanted but it would have to do. Trying to run the cloth over your arm was proving harder than you originally anticipated.

Your body was starting to ache. Your legs felt like they were set on fire. Panting like you had just run a marathon you were exhausted. Not being able to stand any longer you collapsed back onto your bed.

Tears stung your eyes. You were frustrated with yourself. You weren't even able to do simple things for yourself. Grieving the life you lived before you let your sadness overtake you. Hiccuping as sobs escaped you.

Neteyam's ears twitched as he heard crying coming from your room. Protective instincts kicking in he rushed towards your room.

"Y/N?" He tentatively asked before bolting in.

The sound of your brothers voice made you prickle up. Quickly wiping off your face in hopes he wouldn't notice your tears.

His heart sank at the sight of you. Putting up a strong façade throughout your healing process, you never acted like anything bothered you. The broken girl he saw before him was new.

“You were crying, weren't you?" He asked.

“What does it matter?” You huffed.

“What’s wrong?” He breathed taking a seat next to you.

“What isn’t wrong?” You mumbled as more tears fell. “I can’t do anything anymore. I’m useless.”

“You are a lot of things sister. Stubborn and hardheaded? Yes. Useless? You could never be useless.” Neteyam gently wrapped his arm around you for a hug.

“You saved my life Y/N. How could you think so little of yourself?” He frowned.

“You would’ve done the same for me Neteyam.”

“That’s not the point. You didn’t have to. I owe you my life.” He stressed. “Now what can I do to help you?”

“It’s fine Neteyam, I don’t need anything.” You tried you best to brush him off.

“You’re hurt. Let me take care of you.” He pleaded.

“Fine.” You nodded. “Could you help me freshen up?” You asked sheepishly.

“Of course.” He jumped into action taking the discarded bowl and cloth.

“You know we’re all here for you right?” Neteyam asked after a few moments. “You don’t have to go through this alone.”

All you could do was nod. You felt stupid. Knowing you needed help and that your family was more than happy to provide it; you pushed them out trying to do everything on your own.

“What’s dad always say?” His tone teasing.

“Sully’s stick together.” You muttered rolling your eyes.

“That’s right.” Neteyam nodded as he dabbed your skin with the cloth. “You’re gonna get through this Y/N. Don’t be afraid to ask for help.”

“Okay.” You nodded. “I’ll try to be better at asking.”

Your brother nodded seemingly satisfied with your answer. You were the strongest person he knew, he had no doubt that’d you be able to pull through.

After all Sully’s stick together

Taglist:

@ilovejakesullysdick @fanboyluvr @athenalikethegoddess @loverofallthingsfandom @forasgaard @plzfeedmebread @instabull @avatarappreciationblog @romimiux @ferrtan @tammitammytime @eternallyvenus @dreamyescapesfromreality @dvxsja @jakesullyfatjuicypeen @mightyneteyam @doggyteam2028 @bananafruityawne @mooniequeen @shayligames-blog

[gaily-daily-musings]

Here, have another abomination of an idea:

Anakin works at a nursing home. He's a vampire. It's easy to drain and eat people there. No one suspects someone is killing the elderly because they are already on their deathbeds. It's the perfect job. Obi-Wan is a 70 year old man at said nursing home. A surprisingly attractive 70 year old man.

(Yes I was thinking about iwtv when I wrote this why do you ask?)

“Good morning Obi-Wan.”

Obi-Wan groans. He hates mornings. His back cracks as he sits up. Anakin helps him to the bathroom. Obi-Wan waves him off.

“I can do it myself, Anakin.”

“So you've told me, but you fell last week.” He reminds the old man.

Anakin took care never to let someone fall or hurt themselves on his watch. It would look suspicious if too many people died around him. It had to appear random.

Obi-Wan grumbles as Anakin helps him.

“Way to make me feel older than I already am.”

Obi-Wan takes a seat on the toilet and Anakin gives him his privacy. Once finished Obi-Wan struggles to get up and over to the sink. His hands shake as he washes them. The Parkinsons was getting worse.

Anakin hears the sink going and opens the door. He clicks his tongue. “You didn't tell me you were finished.” He pouts.

“I can pull up my pants by myself, thank you!” Obi-Wan normally isn't so grouchy. In fact he liked Anakin. They had a report. But he'd woken up feeling particularly bad today. He's almost always in pain now, but it varied.

He dries his hands. Anakin comes over and wraps a strong arm around his waist. He steers him out of the bathroom into the little room. It wasn't standard for nurses to touch patients in this way. They had certain procedures they followed. But Anakin was handsy. Obi-Wan chalks it up to him being overly friendly, but then again he's seen him with the other residents. He doesn't hover the way he does Obi-Wan. Probably means nothing.

Obi-Wan groans as he's lowered into his chair. Anakin's brows furrow. He knew the poor guy was in more pain this morning. He'll have to slip a little more drugs into his oatmeal. Obi-Wan didn't have any family and couldn't afford a higher treatment. Good thing Anakin was here to take care of him.

Anakin was amiable with all the folks and staff here but it was Obi-Wan he liked talking to the most. He wasn't insistently chatty the way Karen was. Neither was he sexist like Todd or Clark. And he certainly wasn't racist like any of the frankly alarming number of people. He was personable. He was kind. But his soul felt sad. It called to Anakin.

He didn't have to pretend to be interested whenever Obi-Wan talked. He told him so many stories of his youth and his life. It was strange. Anakin has been removed from humanity for so long his mask has started to feel like his face. He feels Obi-Wan's loneliness as if it is his own. A mirror.

He listens to stories of Obi-Wan's dead wife, Satine. How she'd been fierce and strong. How he'd supported her and her entire career. How they'd had a son together. How Korkie had been killed in a car crash at 17. How they'd never recovered from the loss. Anakin could listen to him talk for hours. He has listened for hours.

“What I'd give to be 30 again.” Obi-Wan sighs. “Not to mention I was so much more handsome back then.”

“You're handsome now.”

Obi-Wan snorts. “Lying does not become you, Anakin.”

“I'm serious. You're like a silver fox.”

Obi-Wan rolls his eyes.

-

Obi-Wan has a dream involving Anakin. It's half remembered and blurry, but he'd heard Anakin call to him. He'd come helplessly, unable and not wanting to resist. Their bodies had twisted and melted together. The heat of Anakin’s stare and scorching touch of his hand burned like a furnace.

Obi-Wan can barely look at Anakin the following day. Too ashamed. Anakin holds a secret smile like he knows what he's thinking but that's impossible. Nevertheless, he pushes the memory down. He was much too old for wet dreams. And much too old for Anakin for that matter.

Anakin guides him out of the bed to the chair in the corner so he can sit and watch his programs. Anakin's hands linger around him, pressing close. He inhales like he's smelling him. Like Obi-Wan was delectable and not stinking of chemicals. It's nothing new. Anakin always lingers. But this time his mind wanders to the dream.

He stiffens, flinching away. Anakin doesn't seem to be offended by it.

“It's okay to rely on me.” Anakin whispers. “Whatever you want, just ask and it's yours.”

Obi-Wan shivers. It was a good thing, he thinks, that he had Parkinsons and could simply blame his reaction on that. He licks his dry lips and tries to find his words. He can't. Instead he nods.

Anakin gives his arms a squeeze before releasing him. He turns back around to grab Obi-Wan’s lunch.

“Lemme me know when you're done. I'll come get the tray.” He winks and leaves the room.

Obi-Wan breathes out a shuddering exhale. The thing is, it had felt real. The dream. Anakin's hands had felt real. He looks down at his legs and swears he sees bruises in the shape of fingers. He's old. A light breeze can bruise him. He'd probably tossed in his sleep and done it himself. And yet…he puts his hands over his thighs where Anakin had had his mouth on him. It’s almost like a memory half forgotten rather than a conjured dream.

-

Anakin wasn't on duty when Obi-Wan has a stroke. He rushes into work the second he hears. By the time he finally arrives Obi-Wan is in bed dozing peacefully. The doctor has already checked him out. His chart hangs on the end of his bed. Anakin doesn't need to consult it or anyone else about the incident. He already knows Obi-Wan's heart was giving out. He can hear it stuttering in his chest. It wouldn't be long now.

Anakin feels real panic settle into his bones. He has not felt this way in a long, long time. Not since…well…

He's never made another vampire. Never wanted to curse anyone to this kind of existence. But he wants Obi-Wan. He needs him.

He gingerly sits beside the bed and places his hands over Obi-Wan’s soft ones. He can't imagine never hearing that accent again. Never seeing those blue eyes hold his image within them.

So many people desired Anakin. He's had so many partners. People wanted him. But they did not cherish him the way Obi-Wan did. Obi-Wan looked at him like he loved him. Like no one ever has before.

Obi-Wan’s eyes flutter open. His gaze locks onto Anakin’s. There's confusion there. Disbelief too. But also a familiar little swelling of love as his pupils dilate.

“Obi-Wan,” Anakin whispers, his voice soft. Too soft. Like he's scared. “I can offer you eternity.”

He strokes a thumb over the back of Obi-Wan's hand and listens to his soft breathing.

“Be with me and live forever.”

The confusion is still there. He probably thinks Anakin is not real. That he's not here and this is yet another dream. That's fine. Let him think this is his imagination. Anakin will take it.

“Forever?” He asks.

“Yes.”

“Are you an angel?”

Ankain smiles. More like the Devil come to steal his soul out from heaven.

“No, I'm a vampire.”

Obi-Wan blinks. He processes this. Anakin leans closer taking his face in his palms.

“Please accept my gift. Accept me. I promise to love you the rest of my existence. Until the stars burn out.”

Obi-Wan lifts his hands and places them on Anakin's. He exhales sadly, a smile on his lips.

“Darling, you never had to ask."

[ash5monster01]

hey, could you do a neil perry x fem!reader where he (and maybe the boys) comfort her..maybe she’s ill/period or even just a nightmare.

it’s okay if not !

Sick Days

Pairing: Neil Perry x FemReader

Warnings: fluff, mentions of being sick, language

Summary: Being sick is easily the worst thing that can happen at Welton but at least you have the absolute best friends in the world to make it better, especially your caring boyfriend.

word count: 1.1k

Masterlist

Nothing is worse at Welton than being sick. Being sick was guaranteed to put you behind in classes, get other students to avoid you at all costs, and keep you from spending time with your boyfriend. On top of all of this, you also had your period. Nothing was more demeaning than being the sick girl at a mainly boys school with your time of the month tagging along. So even though you weren’t a very emotional person you had found yourself softly crying in your dorm bed after the nurse had told you to stay on bed rest for the rest of the week. What a load of crap.

The other bad thing was if you missed classes absolutely everyone knew. You were more than likely the talk to the school by third period because absolutely nothing else of excitement ever happened here. So while you were locked away in your dorm room everyone got to gossip about your absence. Which was how Neil had found out. He had confirmed the information with your roommate who had been given permission to sleep in another dorm until you had recovered. If he knew you like he thought he did you were no doubt heartbroken that you now had to die of boredom alone in your dorm. You’d rather go to class and that was saying something.

So with this information he devised a plan. One his friends help set in motion considering they all loved you just as much as he did. They snuck out of their dorms often for Dead Poets meetings in the old Indian Cave so what could it hurt to sneak out and hold a very silent meeting in your dorm. Neil knew you’d be awake, upset and bored to death from having to spend the entire day alone with piles of homework dropped off in your dorm. So it’s no surprise when he opens the door to your dorm and your head lifts from your bed at the small creaking noise that came from it. “Neil”

“Hey baby, how’re you?” he whispers out, heart aching for you and how sick you look. Your covers are wrapped tightly around you and your face is quite pale. The bed infront of you is covered in the homework you must’ve been actively working at, desperate to keep yourself ahead even if you are sick. He doesn’t miss the way your lip quivers at his question and he feels guilty for asking. “Oh honey”

Neil doesn’t care about getting sick, he sits beside you in the bed and pulls you into his arms. It was his job to comfort his girl after all, so he kisses your head, and holds you while you softly cry into his chest.

“I hate being so secluded” you tell him with teary eyes and his eyes soften towards you as he uses his thumbs to brush them away.

“I know, it’s the worst. Which is why we’re here” he tells you and your eyebrows furrow in confusion as he says we’re.

“Did the boys come too?” you ask and Neil chuckles and nods before pressing one more kiss to your face before he gets picked on for doing so.

“They didn’t want our best girl being lonely either” he says as he stands and goes back to the door. Your heart clenches from him leaving your side, needing him close to you. He opens the door and you’re met with the smiling faces of each of the boys who file into your room, some sitting on your roommates bed and the others on the ground.

“Hey guys” you smile widely at them, the whisper falling from your lips.

“Hey doll, feeling better?” Charlie is the first to respond, his signature flirty smirk on his face.

“I am now” you tell him as Neil comes back to sit at your side, arm wrapping around you.

“Our first silent meeting” Neil whispers to the group and the boys whisper hoot and cheer which has you giggling lightly into Neil’s shoulder.

“Should be easy for Todd” Knox teases and you all silently laugh at the blonde boy whose cheeks have now burned red.

“Impossible for Charlie though” Cameron adds and Charlie kicks the boy with his foot from where he sits on the bed which instantly has the red headed glaring at him.

“Alright, settle down gentlemen. Let’s take a look at our refreshments” Meeks says, reaching into the pockets of his coat and pulling out mountains of snacks him and the boys had collected. Your stomach grumbles at the sight, thinking of the chicken broth and crackers you had been brought for both lunch and dinner. You were practically starved.

“Oh Pitt’s, please pass me a cookie” you call out and the tall boy obeys, plucking a cookie from one of the snack piles and leaning over to hand it to you. You smile thankfully at him and stuff half the cookie into your mouth.

“Someone seems happy?” Neil teases as you finish the cookie and you smile at him.

“So happy, I wish I wasn’t sick so I could kiss you right now” you tell him and the boys quietly ooh which has Neil waving them off.

“I’ll be waiting the moment you get better” he tells you and you smile softly at him, wishing you could show him how happy he has made you. You vow the moment you are better you’ll kiss the shit out of him.

“Okay lovebirds, let’s get this meeting started” Charlie says a touch too loud with the clap of his hands and the boys instantly shush him. He holds his hands up in defense and Neil chuckles before pulling the book out of his jacket. You watch him fondly as he reads the opening statement and when he finishes you place a kiss on his cheek.

“We can leave if you ever get too tired or don’t feel good” Neil whispers to you and you shake your head, looking fondly over each of the boys.

“No, stay. I want you all to stay” the happiness of the others surrounding you being the only thing to make you feel better all day.

“Even if Charlie reads a stupid poem?” he asks and you chuckle and nod.

“I’d actually prefer it” you tell him and he grins, eyes also glancing at his friends who were so good to come and help cheer you up. The only girl he has ever loved.

“Then we’ll stay, until you feel better” and you nod, content with that answer and content with the friends you were so lucky to have.

“I want you all to stay forever”

[captainremmington-13]

A Lady Made of Snow

DISCLAIMER: I don’t own The Hunger Games franchise, the images above, The Ballad of Songbirds and Snakes, or any of the characters in this fic other than Bellova.

SUMMARY: The 10th Annual Hunger Games begin, and things quickly dissolve into chaos. Bellova grows increasingly furious about Coriolanus’s dedication towards Lucy Gray Baird. When she realizes he has cheated just to keep her alive, she decides to ruin him once and for all.

Warnings: spoilers for TBOSAS, death, violence, cursing, overall dark stuff (it’s the Hunger Games franchise so that’s sorta a given)

A/n: I am using a combination of the movie and book version of the events that occur in this chapter. I sort of streamlined the events to make the chapter less boring. Also, I highly recommend listening to “…Ready For It?” and “Look What You Made Me Do” while reading this chapter.

Other than Sejanus throwing a chair at the screen and screaming that everyone in the room was a monster, Lamina killing Marcus in an act of of mercy, and Lucky’s stupid commentary, nothing much had happened yet. 

Bellova was disappointed that her tribute was dead. Not because she cared about her, but because it meant she was missing out on the mentor experience. The thrill of having a say in someone else’s survival seemed quite exciting. 

If she wasn’t so pissed at Coriolanus for his behavior towards Lucy Gray, she would’ve reconsidered his proposal to work together. 

When the day was coming to an end, the majority of Academy students started to leave for their homes. Only a handful remained, consisting mostly of the mentors.

Bellova stifled a yawn, leaning back in her chair. Things has gotten dull, with the tributes doing nothing but finding places to hide from each other. She hoped that Dr. Gaul had something exciting in store for them soon, or people would start switching to Billi Bumble’s horrible comedy channel.

She picked up her Academy satchel and stood up from her seat. She noticed that Coriolanus was still present and slumped over on his desk, his head resting on his hand. He looked so peaceful asleep, his long golden lashes fluttering slightly. The light from the ceiling made his light blonde curls glow ethereally.

He looked like an angel. 

Bellova suddenly felt a strong urge to wake him up. She had avoided him for the entire day out of spite, but was starting to miss interacting to him. It was routine, bantering and bickering every day. Not talking felt…weird. And lonely.

She sighed. On rare occasions, she wished she could go back in time and change the way they formed their relationship. Instead of it being based on competition and rivalry, it would be full of support and affection. 

Then, an unpleasant thought hit her. 

He had only stayed so late to ensure nothing happened to Lucy Gray while he was away.

Now utterly furious, she slung her bag over her shoulder and started towards the door. ‘He’s such a pathetic sap,’ she thought. ‘He’s acting like a fool, I really should stop associating myself with him.’ 

But she found herself glancing over her shoulder to look at him one last time. And she knew, deep down, that she’s always come back, no matter how much he pissed her off.

She’d never be able to stay away from him. 

Not for long, anyway.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Bellova passed out as soon as she climbed into bed, and didn’t wake until nine hours later. She hadn’t slept well in nearly a week, as she was still recovering from her injuries. This was the first time she was able to achieve an uninterrupted night of sleep since before the bombing.

When one of her maids woke her up, it was already 8:00. Usually Academy classes started promptly at 8:00, but because of the Games, the schedule had been loosened a bit. And Bellova, who didn’t feel like interacting with anyone, was in no rush to arrive on time.

After eating a breakfast of fruit and assorted pastries, she slowly pulled on her uniform. She has always hated the Academy uniforms, but with the right accessories and makeup, she had learned to make it presentable by her standards.

Bellova checked her makeup one last time in the mirror and then headed downstairs to meet her driver at the front of her estate. He opened the passenger’s side door for her as she slid into the seat. 

“How are you this morning, Miss Bellova?” he asked, starting the engine and taking off towards the main road.

“Fine,” she said, leaning against the window. “I’m just tired, that’s all.”

“I’m sorry to hear that. I hope that once the Games are over, you can rest up properly.”

She nodded. “That would be nice. As much as I like the Games, they’ve caused quite a lot of stress this year.” 

He laughed quietly. “Most certainly. Everyone was so worried about you when you were hospitalized, your father most of all. I haven’t ever seen him so upset in my twenty years of working for him.” 

Bellova sighed. She and her father, Julio Augustus Reginelle, had a nice relationship. But he was rarely home, for he worked almost ten hours a day and often didn’t come home until Bellova was asleep. She cherished the rare moments she had with him. He had taught her to be proud of her wit and her combative nature, even if it sometimes got her into trouble. 

“You are much more like your father than you realize, Miss Bellova,” her driver said. 

“How so?” she asked.

“You are both kind until someone disrespects you. You are incredibly intelligent just like him, and pursue your goals relentlessly.” He paused for a moment. “And, you seem to have the same disdain for certain other Capitol families.”

Bellova raised an eyebrow. “Which ones?”

“Well, he’s not fond of the Cardews, as you know. He thinks they hold too much power for how little work they actually do.”

Bellova laughed. “That’s true.”

“He has never gotten along with the Creed family. He finds them irritating and foolish.”

She smirked. “I’m not surprised. Festus can be insufferable. Who else?”

Her driver sighed. “He despised Crassus Snow.”

Bellova felt her stomach twist. “Really?”

He nodded. “I don’t know exactly why he hated him so passionately, but I’ve heard they were rivals during their Academy days.”

‘I suppose I really do take after him then,’ Bellova thought, remembering her and Coriolanus’s worst arguments. ‘Crassus’s son gets under my skin nearly every day.’

Her driver pulled onto Scholars Road and stopped in front of the Academy’s main building. He stepped out of the car to open the door for her, and she gave him a nod of thanks. 

“I’ll see you later, Miss Bellova,” he said, bowing slightly and getting back into the car to drive off. 

As Bellova walked to the auditorium where the mentors were undoubtedly already at work, she pondered what her driver had said about Crassus Snow and her father. She was eager to know more about their history, but didn’t want to pry too far. Her father had a temper just like her, and she didn’t want to be on the wrong end of it.

When Bellova reached the room and walked through the doors, she immediately noticed three things: one, that Coriolanus looked exhausted and distressed, two, that he has brought his cousin Tigris to watch the Games, and three, that Sejanus was missing. 

She grabbed a spare chair and sat next to Coriolanus. He didn’t greet her or even glance look at her.

“What’s wrong with you today?” she asked, looking at the large television screen in front of them. 

He scowled. “I’m not in the mood for your snide remarks, Bellova.”

“Clearly something happened. Either tell me or I’ll figure it out on my own.”

Coriolanus gave her a sharp glare, but sighed in defeat. “We’ll talk about it later.”

Satisfied, Bellova turned her attention back to the Games. According to Lucky Flickerman, one tribute, Bobbin, had died overnight. However, there was no footage shown of him perishing. 

Bellova found that awfully suspicious. There was such a lack of action in the arena that the gamemakers would have undoubtedly shown the death of a tribute. 

When Bobbin’s death was announced, she noticed Coriolanus tense ever-so slightly. The average person wouldn’t have noticed, but she had learned to read his body language as well as the back of her hand. Clearly, something about his death made him nervous.

She decided to cast it aside for the moment. She’d pry the information out of him later. 

“They aren’t showing us what happened to that little boy,” Lysistrata Vickers said. “He clearly was killed right there. There’s cameras everywhere. It doesn’t make sense.”

“They said they were old cameras, Lyssie,” Festus responded. “Probably just another one of Coral’s.”

“Festus, sit down,” Lucky Flickerman ordered. “Same seats.”

Festus scowled but did as he was told. He and Lucky clearly had some animosity, and it was quite amusing to witness their petty interactions. 

Suddenly, after a few moments, Lucy Gray appears on screen, looking horrified. Bellova had to bite her lip to refrain from grinning. It seemed that the songbird’s luck was finally running out. 

Jessup emerged a second later. He was clearly not well, he looked much worse than he did before the Games.

“What’d you do to me?” Jessup shrieked, backed Lucy Gray against a pile of rubble.

“Nothing!” she responded, her eyes wide with fear. 

“Lyssie, what is he doing?” Bellova heard Coriolanus asked frantically.

“Something’s wrong,” Lysistrata replied, bewildered. “He wouldn’t turn on her like this.”

“Jessup going after Lucy Gray,” Lucky commented. 

“Stop running!” Jessup demanded. “What did you…” He groaned mid-sentence. “What did you do to me?”

“I didn’t do anything!” Lucy Gray insisted.

“Both tributes from District 12. The same district folding in on itself.” 

“Wait, look. The foam,” Coriolanus said. 

“I think it’s rabies,” Lysistrata said, clearly disturbed. “That bite. From that train.” 

Coriolanus stared at the screen, looking helplessly at his tribute who was nearing her inevitable doom. Then, he turned back to Jessup’s mentor.

“Send him water.”

“Wait, what?” Lysistrata asked.

“You remember the posters in the war? Rabies. It makes you afraid of water. Send him a drone.”

“That’ll scare him,” she protested.

“Yes. Away from her,” he insisted.

Bellova stood up. “Coriolanus-“

“Bellova, be quiet,” he snapped, not even bothering to look at her. “Jessup is done. Lyssie, you’re the only one that can get it right to him.”

Lysistrata clearly didn’t want to, but with a few clicks on her computer, water was being sent to Jessup by a drone. 

“Thank you,” Coriolanus whispered.

Within minutes, Jessup was dead, and four lethal tributes were cornering Lucy Gray. 

“Oh, look at this,” Lucky Flickerman said. “The Pack doing what they do best. Packing it in. Lucy Gray is swarmed, cornered. Mizzen, propellering his net.”

It looked again as if she was done for, but then-

“Mr. Snow going for his communipad,” Lucky continued. Bellova saw him send nine - no, ten drones towards Lucy Gray. 

Bellova knew exactly what he was doing. He was using the drones to give her a chance to escape. 

The drones came flying into the arena, causing The Pack to scatter. A few of them got hit, causing them cry out in pain and tumble to the stone-covered floor. 

“These drones are not very good,” Lucky commented, as if it weren’t obvious. Some of the students who had caught onto Coriolanus’s plan started to jeer at him.

“Hey!” Vipsania Sickle said indignantly. “You can’t attack the tributes.”

“I’m just sending water,” Coriolanus said casually, as if he was completely innocent.

After gathering her bearings, Lucy Gray scrambled into a tunnel with Coral on her heels. She managed to pull the vent closed just in time, the metal door nearly crushing Coral’s fingers.

Bellova positioned herself a few inches away from Coriolanus. She was seething, but it didn’t show on her face. She simply looked indifferent, despite all of the violence that had just occurred in the Games. 

“Snow, do you that time before the Dark Days when you pulled on my pigtails, so I slammed your face against my school desk?”

“Yes,” Coriolanus said, furrowing his eyebrows. “What about it?”

Bellova smiled crookedly, the violent glint in her eyes making Coriolanus visibly uncomfortable. “I’m about to fucking do it again, and this time, you’ll have more than a bleeding nose.” 

He straightened his posture, smoothing out his Academy blazer. 

“I’d like to see you try.” 

Bellova’s hands twitched. She knew that decking him in front of the majority of the student board would get her in severe trouble, but it was very tempting.

Instead of punching him, she started to storm out of the auditorium. 

“There goes Miss Reginelle. Clearly, the violence on screen has finally gotten to her-“

“Shut the fuck up, Flickerman, before I snap your microphone in half!” Bellova hissed. She threw up open the doors, and made sure to slam them behind her. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Bellova sat in the hallway outside of the auditorium, leaning her head against the wall behind her. Her anger was threatening to spill over, and her father would be very disappointed in her if she murdered someone on Academy grounds.

She had vowed to make Coriolanus pay if he pulled any more strings for his little songbird. And he had by sending that fleet of drones after her attackers. But clearly, nobody batted an eye at that. He had not been punished, or even reprimanded.

The thought of Coriolanus thinking longingly about Lucy Gray was almost enough to drive her mad. 

Before she could do anything drastic, she heard the speakers inside the auditorium amplifying Dr. Gaul’s voice. Curious, she stood up and pressed her ear to the doors.

“Capitol citizens, I’m afraid I must interrupt our Games to announce a tragic loss, one that affects us all. Felix Ravinstill, son of our beloved president, has, this morning, succumbed to his injuries sustained in the rebel bombing.”

Bellova felt her heart drop. Felix wasn’t all that bad, when he wasn’t bragging about his life at least. She had even gone to the end-of-year Academy gala with him a couple of years ago. They had a wonderful time, and she was gifted a priceless gold necklace by him at the end of the night. She had worn it for a week straight afterwards, which delighted the young son of the president.

“Out there in the districts, they will be celebrating this young boy’s death as a triumph. I will not allow my Games to give our enemy such a victory. I swear to you, here and now, before the sun goes down tonight, a rainbow of destruction will engulf our arena. Even if it means there’s to be no victor in these Games.”

She gasped. She knew Dr. Gaul well enough to know she was completely serious. If she wanted someone gone, she’d stop at nothing until they dropped dead. 

Mere moments later, Coriolanus burst through the doors, nearly slamming right into Bellova. 

“What are you doing out here?” she asked, scowling at him.

He sneered down at her, beginning to walk away. She followed him, despite knowing he really didn’t want her to. “As if I’d tell you.”

Bellova sighed. “I told you earlier, Coriolanus, if you don’t tell me, I’ll figure it out on my own-“

“Fine!” he huffed. “I’d do anything to shut you up at this point. You’re insufferable.”

“The feeling is mutual, Snow. Now spill it, what’s going on?”

Coriolanus, against his better judgement, told her everything. Well, almost everything. He told her about how he retrieved Sejanus from the arena, but omitted the part about killing Bobbin. He explained that he needed to see Dr. Gaul immediately, for the stitches in his back from the previous evening were coming loose. 

Bellova frowned. She briefly felt bad that he was in pain, but couldn’t bring herself to actually care. She was still angry at him. 

She also noticed he said was being very vague with his details. He was definitely hiding something.

“What’s that face for?” Coriolanus asked as they approached the Citadel, which housed Gaul’s laboratory. 

“What face?”

“That scowl. You’re clearly not pleased about something, so what is it?”

She smirked. “As if I’d tell you,” she said, mimicking his words from earlier. 

Coriolanus’s jaw clenched, which satisfied Bellova immensely. She loved seeing his patience waver, it was strangely addicting.

“Will you ever learn to keep your bratty mouth shut?” he asked, his voice raising a touch.

“Bratty?” Bellova scoffed. “I’d prefer it if you called me a bitch.”

Dr. Gaul’s lab was just a few corridors away at this point. Bellova knew that causing a scene here wouldn’t be wise, but she honestly did not care. She could easily talk her way out if it.

Coriolanus glowered at her, his blue eyes icier than ever. “Go back to the auditorium, Bellova. I know you love watching the Games, and you’re probably missing all of the action.”

She laughed. “So all of a sudden, you want me to be happy. Seriously, Snow, if you want to get rid of me, just say so.”

He smirked at her condescendingly. “Then I will. Get out of here, you have no place in Gaul’s lab anyway. It’s too much for your pathetically shallow brain to comprehend.” 

Bellova stared at him for a moment. It has been awhile since he’d said something quite that harsh. It was normal for him to question her intellect, but calling her dumb? That was low, even for him.

Coriolanus was obviously anticipating a slap to the face. He was not prepared, however, for Bellova to swipe her claw-like nails across his face like a wild animal.

Stunned, he watched Bellova walk away as the new gashes on his face began to sting. As she reached the end of the hall, she screamed “You’re such an asshole!” before disappearing from Coriolanus’s sight. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Bellova sat in the stands instead of with the mentors, watching as Dr. Gaul’s “rainbow of destruction” engulf the remaining tributes in the arena.

She had no idea that when Dr. Gaul said “rainbow”, she was referring to hundreds of colorful, deadly snakes. 

She watched, entranced, as the beautiful mutations smothered the tributes, picking them off one-by-one. She had never admired the “mad” scientist more. Her work was truly beautiful. 

Wovey, Reaper, Mizzen, and Coral were soon dead, lying lifelessly beneath the swarm of snakes. 

“Now, all colors lead to Gray,” Lucky Flickerman said. 

Coriolanus stood watching the screen, amazed at his own success. “She’s… She’s won. It’s over, she’s won.” He looked over to Dr. Gaul, who was standing to the side. “She’s won, let her out.”

The doctor smiled. “Afraid that’s not your call to make, Mr. Snow.”

Bellova bit back a laugh when Lucy Gray began to sing. At least she’d be able to get in once last performance before her vocal chords went slack.

“Dr. Gaul, she won!” Coriolanus repeated, desperation seeping into his voice. “It’s over, let her out.” 

“Why aren’t they attacking her?” someone asked.

“Must be the singing,” Coriolanus replied. “It’s calming them.”

He really was a terrible liar.

“She can’t sing forever,” Festus said. 

Bellova noticed some of the students around her begin to cry as they watched Lucy Gray sing shakily. ‘Pathetic,’ she thought.

“Dr. Gaul, please,” Coriolanus begged. “Get her out. Get her out!”

One by one, the Academy students began to chant “Get her out! Get her out!”, almost overpowering the sound of Lucy Gray’s singing. 

‘No,’ Bellova thought desperately. ‘Don’t. Just let her die.’

Then, Coriolanus said, “Who will watch the Games if there’s no victor?”

The chanting came to a halt.

Dr. Gaul looked around, seeing that she was vastly outnumbered. “Get her out,” she murmured just loud enough to be heard. 

“She’s won! Lucy Gray!” Lucky Flickerman cried over the roar of the student body. “Coriolanus Snow is the winner of the 10th Annual Hunger Games!”

Bellova’s face burned with fury, her patience finally snapping after days of wearing thin. 

She was no longer willing to overlook Coriolanus’s behavior. She had let him get away with too much. 

It was time that he faced some real consequences.

As she exited the hall quietly, she smiled, a cruel, twisted smile. She knew exactly how she would make him pay.  

✧ ‧˚₊ ❆ ‧ ₊ ⊹˚✧ ‧˚₊ ❆ ‧ ₊ ⊹˚✧ ‧˚₊ ❆ ‧ ₊ ⊹˚✧ ‧˚₊ ❆ ‧ ₊ ⊹˚✧ ‧˚₊

TAGLIST: @daenerysqueenofhearts, @squidscottjeans, @euphemiaamillais, @gracieroxzy

Author’s Note: Thank you for reading! Please let me know what you think in the comments! This was another decently long chapter, and I believe it has been the most intense one yet. Stay tuned for Chapter Six!

Also, let me know if you want to be added to the tag list!

[whoiwanttoday]

Hey guys, it is @wildflagsure birthday today and last night she demanded I make a "really good" post for her for her birthday. She can't help it, she's from Greece but lives in the UK and what I have heard is immigrants there are always coming in and demanding things, it's why as a country they decided to set their economy on fire, because if you make your little island completely unlivable then no one will want to move there. Not that tactic I would have taken but then I try not be a hateful bigot, so who am I to talk? Anyway, besides blaming @wildflagsure for all of England's problems (and like… where was she when they lost the Empire? She can't account for her whereabouts) I do want to celebrate her birthday. By talking about myself. I mean, it is my blog, I tagged her twice, I am not sure how much more giving a person can be. I'll drive literally tens of people to her dead blog. Anyway, my favorite thought about Andi, which I will call her from here out because first I am tired of tagging and second I think it looks cooler with the E not on it but also it's short for Antigone and I can change a T to a D for a friend but I'll be dead and buried before I leave off the apostrophe if you insist on shortening Antigone to Anti'e. Anyway, my favorite thought is when she was doing a small radio show live (and doing it wrong, rather than use the service that paid for the songs rights they just played shit off of spotify because literally no one cared) I used to listen every week cause it was fun to support her but also she likes good music. There was a listener request form and I used to submit requests. I did this for a few reasons. One, I learned on tumblr every single person in the world wants more asks. It is exciting and makes them feel special. Also, by sending multiple requests or messages a show it meant they would seem very popular to other listeners and you know, fake it till you make it, that way everyone else would go, "Wow, these guys must be more famous than I realized. I should tell my friends to listen and also send in requests". And then, obviously, I like to control women and tell them what to do, so it was a real rush to send in a song title and then make her do it. Anyway, there was a time when the person she did it with referred to me as, "Our fan". And that got a snap back of, "Actually, is MY friend". It was very defensive and I appreciated that in part it came from the fact that her cohost was trying to diminish me in a way that person liked to do and Andi was willing to stand up and protect me even though honestly, I didn't care. She did, that mattered. I mean, there was a lot going on there because her cohost was one of those lowkey monsters you meet in your late teens and early 20's who you find compelling because you are too young to know better but also because you are insecure and the fact that they have absolutely no moral center is appealing because it sure must be nice to not be insecure and upset and worried about things all the time. Andi eventually moved on, don't worry. Actually, it's really cool to see that she has matured into just a totally cool as fuck lesbian bad ass. I mean, she was always those things but now she has the confidence and a really cool life that she always was going to have but I bet she was unaware of. Like, she has her own place, she has a hot girlfriend, she eats cool meals, and she can get you any drugs you want. It's pretty cool.

Anyway, today I am posting Georgia Ellenwood because in my experience Andi loves Olympic Athletes. She always goes on that she's glad someone is honoring Zeus properly. Now, sadly, Georgia Ellenwood is not going to the Olympics this year because she is still recovering from an injury. That kind of thing is always sad, athletes only have so many chances but I think she has a good future ahead of her even outside of sports because she is charming and friendly and well… looks like she does. It's not hard to imagine her being successful doing other things. And even if she felt like a good pick today because even if she isn't going to the Olympics I am willing to bet @wildflagsure would be willing to burn down a second island nation to sleep with her. Today I want to fuck Georgia Ellenwood.

[strangerscallmegray]

Are we the same?

Hello guys, I hope you like this. I was out looking for Joel Miller x son!reader fics and I could find very little male reader or GN reader fics and so I impulsively decided to create this series. I hope you will like it. The first chapter is going to be exploring Joel's PoV. I'm new here so I don't understand much, hopefully I'll learn along with you.

So, the thing is I have not seen the last of us, it is just recently that I discovered the fanfics and I really liked them, I'm going to watch it soon. So, I apologize for any timeline discrepancy as well as factual errors that might be there in the story lolol.

------- x --------

Joel had a difficult relationship with his son. It was not that Joel did not love him, no, he did, he immensely loved the kid, how could he not? He was his son. You were the last remaining person from his family. The life and family he had had before everything went to shit. But there was a distance between you and Joel, one that Joel deeply lamented. It started after Sarah died. Joel felt like you blamed him for what had happened. You had always been a loving older brother to Sarah and losing her broke you too, you were never quite the same and he couldn’t say he was either.

Joel watched as you went outside the house after the latest argument you had had. Arguments were not uncommon between the two of you. It was simple, Joel still felt you were too young to be going on patrols with him. Whereas you felt you had never been more ready and to see Tess take your side had been heartbreaking for Joel. Tess would not forget the look of betrayal that had etched onto his face when she had done that. Tess had later given him a lecture saying if he wanted his son then he’d have to let him do what he wants to do even if that included danger. Joel had cried out in anger then saying that he’d rather have his son alive and hate him than dead. He and Tess had needed a lot of time to recover from that. He had already lost one child and he was not planning to lose another any time soon. Now, since Joel did not have a say in what you wanted to do, he put his everything into training you. He wanted to teach you everything he knew so that you could survive even if he is not there. He was very proud of you and how far you had come. You never complained when it came to training, even if you had arguments with your dad, sparring sessions were a must, even if it just helped in releasing pent-up frustration.

Joel was sometimes very harsh with you and he knows that. It was because maybe he got so lost when he lost Sarah that he forgot he had another person depending on him. Some days the guilt consumes him and the others he feels like you need the rigidity to make yourself better, that it is what you seek from him. Tess had told him many times that his harshness might reflect negatively on you since you were only 16. Sometimes he thought that surely Sasha must be rolling in the grave over what kind of a father he had become. A memory flashed through this head.

“This is a waste of time, they’ll have finished turning you by the time you get back up from the ground.” He said.

You were panting having fallen on the ground. “I am…..trying.” you said in between of breaths.

“Not like that you are not, the only thing you are trying to do right now is getting yourself killed, if that was your mission, congratulations, you succeeded.”

You had glared at him, still not getting up, “What the hell is your damn problem with me!?” you had shouted and stood up walking up to your dad. “You can see I’m trying, we only started practicing a week back and Tess says I’m doing good, why do you always have to be so critical of me as if I can never be any good?”

“I don’t know what Tess has been seeing, all I am seeing is that it was a mistake allowing a 14-year-old out on patrols.” Joel had said. He couldn’t understand why he was being so unnecessarily harsh.

Tears stung your eyes as you said, “I will prove you wrong Dad, I will be the best hunter you’ve ever seen.” You had said and walked away.

And you were most definitely the best that Joel had seen, he just failed to communicate it to you. He wished he had been more understanding back then.

Then, then came Ellie, the kid who reminded him too much of Sarah, the kid full of life and so opposite from both him and you. In the beginning he didn’t know how to act around her but slowly he warmed up to her. She was not replacing Sarah, nobody could replace his Sarah ever but Ellie was not Sarah, Ellie was Ellie and that was why he had grown to care for her and he knew he had grown paternal towards her. He had seen the way you interacted with Ellie too, you had never held something she didn’t even know against her. You had even taught her a couple of things and his heart swelled with happiness whenever he saw that. An emotion he was sure he would never feel again.

“Is he your son?” She had asked pointing towards you who was standing with the group explaining something to them.

“Yes.” He had said, short and crisp, he didn’t want to discuss it and he hoped she’d get the hint. She did not.

“Then why is he on patrols? He doesn’t seem that much older.” She looked curiously.

He had looked at her and glared “Why don’t you ask him the same then maybe even I will know.”

And after that, it felt the most normal than ever in Jackson, but he just wished he could mend his relationship with his son. He wished you would stop looking at everything he did for you in negative light and stop seeing him as the enemy.

Soo, I hope you liked that, let me know what you think. The next chapter will be your PoV.

[blingblong55]

Vienna- 141

Based on a request.

Angst, death of a character, (spoiler it's you, lol), suicide, MDNI, GN!Reader

-Vienna (original story ending)

~Alternative ending~

Slow down you crazy child You're so ambitious for a juvenile But then if you're so smart tell me Why are you still so afraid?

Things to a turn for the worse. Your own mind messing with you. And you finally did it. Like any coward, you killed yourself. It was fast and sudden. But soon you had met your Vienna.

It was a rookie that found you. Lying on the floor with the gun in your hand. They called Price. He naturally thought it was a prank from Soap. So he stayed in his office, until his men were on the other side of the door, except Gaz. "Sir, they...they really did it" Ghost spoke up. Some regret and shame on his voice.

Turns out, you didn't have any family but them. That's why you showed them all of your unconditional love.

--

Without anyone else but Gaz and the rookie knowing, you were rushed to Med-Bay. Turns out you had missed the fatal shot to the head and shot yourself in the neck. You weren't dead, not for many more years to come, but the way you were laid on the floor made it seem like you were. For hours Price paced in the hallway, waiting for any news on you. Meanwhile, for the first time since you arrived on base, Soap and Gaz visited your room, and cleaned up the blood. Ghost made sure to pick up clothes for you, it was weird, to have him beg hell and heaven for you. For all that's worth, you were his little sibling, he just never told you or anyone because he hated to show so much care and affection.

It's stupid. He is crying behind the base, holding onto a stupid silly bracelet you gave him. He made it look like he had thrown it away when you first gave it to him but no, he held onto it, was the only thing that made him think he was needed around.

Soap and Gaz sat on the floor of your room. Both were silent and filled with guilt, knowing that they had probably been the reason to tip you over the edge. Why did they have to be this way with you? All you wanted to be was their friend and family. What were you without them? Because they know of all the little things you did for them.

Slow down you crazy child Take the phone off the hook and disappear for a while It's alright, you can afford to lose a day or two (oooh) When will you realize, Vienna waits for you?

"What is that?" Gaz pointed towards a notebook under your bed.

Once opened the men found recipes of food they liked, the same one they would find in the fridge after tough missions. You were the reason they didn't feel like killers on base, it was you the one who made them feel like they were still themselves away from all the gunpowder, bombs, wars and death. You had little notes made in the notebook.

~Gaz, can't live without his morning show. ~Price hates the smell of his hat today, I must wash it every other day now. ~Soap will be upset but I have to sneak into his room and get his mum's number to get the recipe for his favourite meal. ~ I will make sure Ghost knows I'll spend Christmas at base too, so he doesn't feel lonely. :)

There was so much more they found in that notebook, the story behind the silly song you liked, the one they made fun of you for. The reason why Vienna has become such an important place for you. And now their goal was to take you there, to make a better memory after you recover, who knows, maybe you can all be a family. A twisted, funny and tough family.

Once the four men were in the hallway of the Med-Bay, they got the news they so desperately needed.

"R/N, will be fine. It will take a while for them to properly talk again. So, I advise rest for three weeks and don't make them talk for at least a month." The doctor said and nodded once as he left, Price had many questions but the doctor had plenty more patients and families to see. Was it a cruel plan to bring all of them to care for you this way? Yes, but it was never your intention to do so, you really just wanted to end such pain and horrible thoughts.

It took months to finally get you back to yourself, Gaz no longer let you eat alone and Soap listened to all the silly questions you had for him and to be honest he enjoyed answering them all. Ghost was always talking, day and night. His stories were something that you always loved, he was the one who kept you entertained as you recovered. Price started to call you kiddo or when someone laughed about the scar on your neck, he'd say: "Do not mess with my kid, soldier." Slowly, it was the family you longed for. A family, a twisted family.

When will you realize, Vienna waits for you?

@liyanahelena @justmare @ethereal-night-fairy

[eddieslooneymoonie]

Sorry for this but….

Angst Eddie Blurb that’s been rotting my brain

Not beta read bc I’m kool (and have no friends atm)

It had been a long day at work. And after that you went straight to the high school as a nurse volunteer for those who were injured but not injured enough to be cared for in the limited hospice space.

The agonizing cries of the burned, broken, and grieving.

They say the town was truly was torn apart.

But then I guess they hadn’t had to watch what that truly means.

You doubt anyone else had to watch bats decend and feast on the flesh of their boyfrie-

No.

He was more than that but you couldn’t get into it right now.

It seemed unfair to you that two things in your life had been torn apart, and the only one you hated more out of those two categories was recovering.

The one you loved most was dead.

Revered only by a handful of people who took turns scrubbing “Satanist” and “Freak” off a false resting place.

For all you knew (and tried not to think about) his body had become part of a creature you’d have to kill in the next few weeks.

All you knew for certain was that when Edward Munson had taken his last painful breath in your bloodied arms,

so had you.

So when you finally got home after another lifeless day on instinctual auto pilot, the last thing you wanted to see was a ransacked home.

Not that you cared. Not much of it was his anyways, which was about all you possessed with any fire.

But you were 𝙩𝙞𝙧𝙚𝙙.

You dropped all your belongings and decided that maybe you were wrong about strength lying in moving forwards. All you wanted was to fall.

So you did, slumped against the doorway with nothing but a sore ribcage from crying yourself to sleep every night and a dirty bandana folded nicely in your back pocket.

Bare bones of a love you thought was forever.

Then you heard something that made you question if you really hadn’t survived.

The ragged notes produced only by Eddie’s most prized possession-

and now yours.

Something you had safely tucked under your bed.

You listened hard with your head still settled against the cold tiled floor of your doorway.

There was no way it could be anything else but-

Sweetheart.

You bolted upright in a murderous rage. You couldn’t care less about someone walking in and taking your half burnt belongings but how DARE they help their grimy fingers to the last piece of your soul you had.

You grab the ax you have hanging above the door,

one of 7 weapons hidden in your home.

Then you feel it.

An ice in your veins only in the past unleashed against bar scumbags and then naked looking alien fucks from the Upside Down.

And then…..

And then bats that took half of you and all of him.

It was no question.

Whoever decided to enter your shitty one bedroom apartment probably had no idea it was the last thing they’d ever do.

Another aspect of you life the Upside Down had taken from you.

Your humanity.

Gripping the axe in a way far more comfortable than your own bed was sometimes, you head down the hallway to the soon to be murder victim.

Just when you reach the door the gentle strumming stops.

So do your steps and breath, paused in pursuit like the predator you’d been forced to become.

You take a slight step forward and peek through the doorway crack-

Only for your eyes to meet messy brown curls, scarred abdominal, ripped to hell black jeans, and dirt covered bare feet.

You shove through the door and the figure doesn’t even flinch.

Instead he looks up from plucking the strings of a guitar he can no longer play comfortably now that there is claws where fingers once were.

Under the red eyes, sunken cheekbones and feral smile you still recognize the figure in front of you.

Dirtier than the day you met him but somehow more defined and twice as beautiful.

Hotter than sin and looking fresh out of hell.

“Hey Trouble,” Eddie’s grin widens.

In his next words you see his teeth, all sharp and pretty.

“I’ve missed you.”

[melkyt]

Been crying alot about the idea of the immortality surgery in the context of LawLu.

The vibes are immaculate for the angst xd

Say the side effect of the immortality surgery is that while Luffy exists forever, Law's soul is tied to his existence.

Say maybe Luffy's death was not some dramatic thing that happened in battle, no, he just used up the last of his life force by using the gears too often, and it presented itself as a disease sometime in his late twenties.

Law has gotten used to having him around, having a semblance of a family together, picking up orphan kids here and there. Luffy still goes on adventures and travels the world, but he always comes back.

Then he stops going out as he gets sick, on some days he can't even get out of bed.

Law hates watching the man he loves, the man who burns so brightly wither away. So despite his promise, Law can't do it. He does the surgery.

Luffy finds him in the garden, seemingly asleep, peaceful, and gone. His heart shatters and it takes weeks for him to recover, but eventually, he manages to keep going, as he has things to keep going for. Their children, his crew.

He does not know that he is immortal, and does not know what Law did until everyone starts dying around him.

Luffy slowly breaks as he loses everything, everyone he loves. It's when the last of his mortal friends dies, Zoro, who was determined to not go before Luffy, not to leave him alone.

That is when Luffy decides that he has had enough life. That he wants to be with everyone again. Brook once told him that immortality can be a curse. It's worse. Brook is still alive and they sometimes talk, the only thing that keeps Luffy's sanity together as the years pass and stop having any meaning.

He travels the world, looking for a way to break the curse, learning more than he has in years of adventure, still keeping his smile and finding joy but it gets harder, the more things seem to repeat. The world begins to feel small, and sometimes he still imagines Law or his crew being around. The hallucinations do not make life easier.

So when he sees a man who looks and sounds exactly like Law on the island where Law was once born. He brushes it off as another hallucination. "Can't get enough of me, huh Traffy? It's the third time this week" He sighs, running a finger over the rim of his glass.

The man just stares in something akin to shock. He blinks as if not quite believing his eyes.

Luffy tilts his head. The hallucinations usually have some witty rebuke. They don't just stare.

"Luffy?" The man's voice is shaky, he stumbles back, breath coming in quick huffs. "How did I..." Law grabs his head as a splitting headache brings memories with it.

It's Luffy's turn to stare in disbelief. It's been hundreds of years, he may come by the place once in awhile, this is the island where Law was born, its familiar, the little things that never change but he never expected to see the man again. "Don't joke like that" Voice low, a threat on his lips. "Traffy's dead"

"I, yes." The man's knuckles are white around his whiskey glass. "I was... I do... How am I here Luffy?

"If you're fake, I'm gonna kill you" Luffy gingerly approaches, poking the man on the arm. "My hallucinations usually don't feel like nothing"

"Hallucinations? Are there side effects to the surgery?" Law gets over some of his confusion, placing his hands on either side of Luffy's face, feeling his pulse. It beats like a drum, as it has since he awakened Nika. "Weird but normal for you"

Luffy chuckles "Only Traffy would go all doctor mode right now" he wraps both arms around Law, "I'm not letting you go this time." Now that's a promise he will not let either of them break, no matter what.

Luffy uses his willpower and gear 5 to keep Law alive out of determination and to spite whatever force tries to take him.

[phantoms-lair]

if you're still doing the crossover ficlets, 27. you said you had more for it :3

((What I meant was I had two more asks for it, not two snippets ready, which is partially responsible for the wait))

Fred sat at the edge of his bed in his cousin's guest room. He'd spent some weeks there recovering from his concussion after Anna Fender tried to kill him and his friends. He'd been bored out of his mind, but at least then he's had Shag and Scoob sharing the room with him. But they couldn't do that this time. Because he kept freezing the room.

There was a nigh constant frost on the windows and floor. The gang had tried to sit with him but it hadn't been long before their lips turned blue and they started shivering. Arthur too, and even Mystery. The only ones unaffected by the aura of cold he constantly projected were Vivi, who also had the ice in her, and Lewis, who was dead.

"Am I a monster?" he asked Vivi when she came in to try to help him try to turn off his ice.

"Define 'monster;." she responded. He gave her a flat look, which she returned. "Fred if you're using monster as a catch all term equivalent to supernatural, then yes, you're a monster. If you mean monster as something evil and inimicable towards innocent people, than no you are not."

"I could hurt people without meaning to." Fred muttered.

Vivi sighed. "I hate to inform you of this Fred, but people have been doing that as long as there have been people. The ice is like...like driving your van."

Fred snapped to attention, confusion in his eyes.

"It's a tool, a very useful tool with a very important purpose, but it can be dangerous to bystanders if you loose control of it. Right now your ice is like a van with faulty breaks. And being here is a shop and Mystery and I are the mechanics trying to figure out what's wrong with the breaks. Even if we have a rough idea."

That was news to Fred. "What's the rough idea?"

"Remember back on the island when I said you couldn't turn off the ice because you were in enemy territory? I think a part of you still hasn't left Moonscar."

"Is this a curse thing?" Fred asked worriedly.

"No." Vivi took his hands. "It's a trauma thing."

Trauma? A part of him wanted to argue it, but honestly he couldn't bring himself to. After all how could someone not be traumatized by that.

Vivi's hand lay on top of his. "Fred do you feel safe here?"

"Of course?" He had a bunch of negative stuff in his head, but 'unsafe' was never part of it.

"Do you feel your friends are safe?" Fred was about to answer affirmative again, but the words caught in his throat.

"How often do you have nightmares about the island? About what almost happened or if you completely lost control of your ice?"

Every time he closed his eyes.

Vivi sighed. "That's what I meant by a part of you is still there. You're not going to be able to turn the ice off until you can convince yourself your friends are safe. From the cat monsters and from you."

"He was killing Shaggy and Scooby." Fred's voice came out as a half sob. "He had them in his claws. I saw their bodies literally shriveling, And then I killed a man! I moved like...like something that wasn't human and I smashed his head in! What if I was too late and the guys lives are going to be much shorter for it? What if I'd missed and hit them instead?"

The door opened and Arthur stuck his head in. "Oh, this is a bad time, I'll come back."

"Arthur...is that an ice pop tray?"

"Yeah, I figured win-win you know? Either Fred gets his ice under control or everyone gets popsicles. I have fruit juice and chocolate pudding."

Fred gave a chocking laugh. "Shag would love that."

"Just leave them on the bookshelf you goon." Vivi shook her head with a fond smile. She knew what Arthur was trying to do. Make light of the situation so Fred would see it as something less of a curse. He'd done the same with his own missing arm."

"And when you're done with the heavy stuff, please feel free to leave this door open. It is free AC and those of us with metal limbs might not be as fond of the Texas heat as we once were."

"It's only in the low 90's." Vivi stuck her tongue out at him.

"Easy for you to say Miss Also-Has-Internal-AC. You leave a piece of metal outside in the 90s and see how much you want it grafted to your skin." Arthur stuck his tongue out in retaliation before leaving, closing the door behind him.

"You have good friends." Fred said sadly.

"I do." Vivi said. Drat, that meant Fred had seen what Arthur was trying to do which meant it wouldn't be as effective. "But back to what we were talking about. Neither are things you have to worry about."

"What?"

"The cat creatures drained life-force, not lifespan. It's not going to subtract from how long they live and as long as it's not fatal within a few hours after the attack, it's 100% recoverable from with time and rest. Which we made sure Shag and Scoob got. Right now their lifespans aren't any shorter than they were going in. If anything they're longer because if something like that happens again, you can protect them."

"As for missing..." Vivi braced herself. Fred count take this either way. "You're right that how you moved likely wasn't human. You were out of it when it happened, but most of your friends saw me leap several feet in the the air and come down smashing a car. But in this case, it's a pure benefit. We're both mystical beings now, cuz. And that means we come with a whole bunch of abilities and instincts to learn. As a Yukino we fight those harming the balance, and given what Jacques was doing? All your instincts were laser focused on him. You would not have missed."

That was...it was a relief, even if Fred felt the confirmation that he really wasn't a human anymore should have been anything but. "I still killed a man."

"Yeah, I can't deny that. But at that point there was no scenario in which everyone walked away. It was either the parasitic cat creature killing people and trapping their souls, or two of your best friends. I think you made the right choice. I'm just so sorry you had to make it."

[stiltonbasket]

jzx, seeing yanli carrying around baby a-yuan: oh. Oh.

Also, the idea of A-yuan being surprisingly tolerant of jzx while his a-niang and jiang-shushu have never felt more Betrayed™️.

Thank you very much for ur cultivation baby sizhui au i am in love!!!!!!!

As is the way of things when one happens to be the heir to a sect, no one has ever dared to hurt Jin Zixuan's feelings.

Of course, he argued with his mother sometimes; and when he was a child, he tried to quarrel with his father about the women he brought into Koi Tower. Those arguments never turned in Zixuan’s favor, but no one but his father has ever tried to insinuate that he was wrong about something important: and when the first person to do so turns out to be Jiang Yanli, Jin Zixuan spends the next two weeks in a state of abject shame.

He had misjudged Maiden Jiang, badly. He never knew her to be dishonest in their childhood, and she had never been proud—but Zixuan was flattered by the notion that someone would take the trouble to make him soup on a battlefield, and when he saw the girl who delivered the first bowl, Jiang Yanli seemed weaker and more talentless than ever in comparison. She could not fight, and she was not beautiful; and her pursuit of Jin Zixuan into battle seemed poorly done, when there were other women who had come to fight or elected to remain at home to defend their sect strongholds.

“Do you have anything in that thick skull of yours? Anything at all?” Wei Wuxian had demanded, on the day Zixuan insulted Jiang-guniang for bringing him soup. “She has two brothers at the front, and you think she’s here for you? Do you think you’d even get to see her face if Nie-zongzhu sent me and Jiang Cheng somewhere else?”

Jin Zixuan had been a fool. He considered Jiang Yanli’s affections as his by rights, even when he thought he did not want them; and now that he did, it would be shameless to pursue her considering their broken engagement.

Just the other day, he had seen her walking around camp with Wei Wuxian’s child in her arms, and the picture she made was so devastatingly beautiful that Zixuan wished he could strangle the younger version of himself that thought her plain.

“It’s nobody’s fault but your own,” Mianmian said mercilessly, when Jin Zixuan asked for her advice on the day before they departed for the Nightless City. “No one asked you to treat her coldly when we were children, or insult her at the Cloud Recesses. No one forced you to reject her cooking, either. You’re reaping your own rewards, gongzi, and you won’t get any sympathy from me.”

“I know I don’t deserve your sympathy. I don’t deserve Jiang-guniang’s love, either,” Jin Zixuan pleaded. “But surely—surely I could apologize to her? Her feelings must still be wounded, and I haven’t done anything about it.”

“The time to make apologies was months ago,” she snapped. “Frankly, I don’t see how marrying you could make Jiang-guniang happy now. Let it go.”

So Jin Zixuan let it go, knowing that the bitterness of losing Jiang Yanli was nothing compared to all that she had endured at his hands. But then, a bare twenty-four hours after Wen Ruohan was finally slain, he meets her in the compound of the Sun Palace reserved for recovering cultivators, and stops dead in his tracks; for she has Wei Wuxian’s son tied to her back in a sling, and the baby had seized one of the gold peony chains dangling from Jin Zixuan’s guan as he passed by.

“Oh!” Jiang Yanli exclaims. “Pardon me, Jin-gongzi. Yuanyuan, let go of his hair.”

The baby—Yuanyuan, Jiang-guniang said—does not let go. Instead, he winds his tiny fists around the end of the chain and pulls it towards his mouth.

“Bu!” he shrieks, when Jin Zixuan tries to free himself. Unnerved, Zixuan drops his hand and edges a little closer; he hates listening to babies’ cries, and this baby’s crying kept their regiment from sleep on so many nights that most of the Jin cultivators refuse to go anywhere near him.

Jiang-guniang reaches up and pries Yuanyuan’s left hand open. But the minute she reaches for the right one, the left hand clamps back down on Jin Zixuan’s hair.

“I’ll just give it to him. I’ve got others,” Jin Zixuan squeaks, his face burning. “It won’t take long, Lady Jiang.”

He detaches the guan and its six gold chains from his bun, letting his long dark hair fall free, and then he puts it back up with a spare hairpin and gives his guan to the baby.

“Here,” he says, and then, when she opens her mouth to thank him:

“It was no trouble,” Zixuan blurts out. “It’s just a guan, and he’s only a baby.”

Jiang Yanli gives him a kind smile and steps past him, heading towards the house where Wei Wuxian is convalescing.

But Wei Yuan, apparently unsatisfied with the peony chains now that they were his and not Zixuan’s, wriggles up and hangs the guan over Jiang Yanli’s ear.

“Pitty,” he coos, rubbing his tiny cheek against hers.

In that very moment, the sun emerges from behind a veil of rosy clouds; and when it falls upon Jiang Yanli, the light strikes the golden peony blossoms in her hair, and fills her big eyes with a gentle fire that nearly brings Jin Zixuan to his knees.

“Mianmian,” he gasps, after he staggers back to the Jins’ guest compound and collapses on the floor by his bed. “Mianmian, I need help. I love Jiang-guniang, I do—even if her affections for me have faded. I won’t press her—I could never press her, even if I had not disrespected her so in the past. But if I have the slightest, slimmest chance, then maybe—”

Mianmian looks supremely unimpressed.

“Get up,” she sighs, a little while later. “Very well, I’ll help you.”

Jin Zixuan bolts upright. “Then you think she might accept me?”

“Why do you think I told you to stay away from her?” scolds Mianmian. “If she’d learned her lesson after that business with the soup, I wouldn’t have bothered. I warned you off for her sake, Zixuan, because Jiang-guniang still loves you.”

Jin Zixuan gawks at her, wonderstruck, and bursts into tears.

[badtzbot]

sigh. go on then. drake.

i knew you cared about me....

How I feel about this character

my emotions about him are generally divided into 5 categories:

lust - not gonna get into it too much because this is tumblr not twt but uhhhh. he's 7 foot 8 inches. he's a dinosaur zoan.... he has a hybrid form. he has really good tits thighs and ass. all i'm saying is that i need him carnally

sobbing emojis - HIS FUCKING BACKSTORY OMFG. GODS. literally IM DEAD. i hope diez barrels is put through hell two billion times. i have extended headcanons about his time as an abused kid. i'm so so happy he was rescued. i can't believe he was nineteen there he was so small. im so glad that he's grown up now and (probably at least somewhat) recovered. i need the barrels pirates to be executed.

need to coddle him - i need to make him take a week off where he does nothing but experience joy. i want him to get over his trauma. i'm booking him a therapy session. im spooning him and washing his hair until he cries because he's never felt intimacy like that. i need him to be happy

need to bully him - his name is so stupid. "x drake" but it's pronounced "diez drake." he's a huge nerd about reptiles and ASTROPHYSICS. he's so large and so pathetic. he's a huge dweeb. he blushes and faints easily. he's weak to boobs. he's like if a mommas boy didnt have a momma. sengoku adopted him and he defected from the main marine force. he went undercover as a pirate and trafalgar clocked him in 0.2 secs as a narc. his pirate outfit is all leather which is both very distracting to me and very difficult to move in. he dual wields weapons that aren't normally dual wielded. his hair is the stupidest thing i've ever seen. he's a ginger. what is up with that weird ass pirate mask. his ship is literally just a painted over marine ship. i can't believe this guy he's such a dweeb

overwhelming love - i love him so much he's sweetie cutie of all time. i love him. he's 7'8. he's a dinosaur man. he faints when he sees boobs. i have only one figure and it's of him. he has such a strong moral compass. he's head of sword. he believes in real justice. he loves chicken and he hates eggs. he has two different birthdays. in the real world he would be a zookeeper. i LOVE HIM SO MUCH

he is my most specialest guy of all time.

All the people I ship romantically with this character

smoker, mostly. koby a little

My non-romantic OTP for this character

his relationship with the rest of SWORD in general is so cute. also putting drake and paulie in a room together has a lot of comedic potential because why are they Like That.

My unpopular opinion about this character

idk what the popular opinions about him are. that hes ugly? i agree tho he is a little bit ugly. but i still love him. ummmmm idk. the unpopular opinion is that i like him at all

oh also not a fan of drake and law? idk i just don't think law would fuck marines. except for One of them

also i don't think he's a daddy dom. he's my pathetic little princess

One thing I wish would happen / had happened with this character in canon.

can i just get more of him in general. can we leave one piece and go to "life of diez drake" instead. that would be really good for me

[stormcrow513]

Hey been awhile,

Around a year ago I wrote a vent post about how the crappy neighbors were moving out and king fuckface decided to take one last crap on us,

He'd had some guy mow down all their weeds then he walked around spraying poison aka weed killer all over the whole property,

which do to dickery and bribes to town counsel might as well be planted in my backyard,

The only space I can let my dogs pee,

I am so fucking sensitive to poison I got sick, ma got sick all my dogs were sick,

Bailey my oldest beautiful girl looked like it was going to kill her,

I ranted on here poured my grief and hate out,

Some of y'all saw me sent love back to me and prayers for my Bae,

And she started kicking it she was recovering,

I updated y'all and you were glad to hear it,

one of you even dm'd me later to ask if she was still recovering and I'd been able to reply a happy positive,

Which is why I felt like I had to come on here and let you know

Bailey died today,

And to thank you again for those prayers

I got one more year with her,

She was so amazing she stole one of my mas stuffed bears after like a day with us and would suck on it, she then stole two more, and would not except any additional bears we tried to give her, nope those were here three she stole them herself,

I taught her to jump into my arms,

She watched me squint at the TV and then started squinting her eyes at me,

She would get pissed off if you called her a dog, she was not a dirty dog she was a fur person

I could go on forever,

She was a tough fucking bitch we had to put her down because she absolutely refused to go,

she was fighting death every step,

I'm sure Deaths down a few fingers dragging her across the rainbow bridge while she claws and screams every obscenity I ever taught her,

While I have you,

some of you might remember me talking about the three sibling cats I'd gotten as kittens how the brother Ares had passed in 2019 then Shy decided to go out on the same day as the queen as was Shy right little Drama Queen,

Then it was just Mittens and she started to go down hill was losing interest in food so we got her a kitty I named Circe,

Well Mittens spited herself back to health cause fuck you kitten, and managed kept going through to the beginning of this year and then she just couldn't go on, she curled up in the worst fucking spot so I had to frag her body out after feeling that she was gone,

Like I said absolutely a spiteful shit,

I miss her so much, she loved being held like a baby, she acted more like a dog then a cat, she liked to sit on my shoulder, I have a scar on my shoulder where she got a claw stuck in it one time,

and she loved it when I had long hair shed get up high behind me after I'd showered and comb my hair with her claws,

As I was showering off the pee and poop after cleaning up,

I thought about writing this and ending it here with some kinda sign off,

but as I sat there my mind turning with the sear bullshit that not just this week but my entire fucking life's been,

My brain turned and raged,

You know I love animals way more then I like humans, while I do feel love and empathy towards humanity there are days like today where it's a hard thing and an easy thing,

because I read about Neil Gaiman sexualy assaulting women yesterday which makes me so sick,

But the vet that put down Bailey was so fucking kind,

I joke to people that I was raised by dogs,

It's not really a joke,

My ma has been the only human to truly love me,

My sperm donor Dennis is an absolute abusive joke of a human being whose still fucking alive and I have to live with him

My oldest sister is dead and while I think she loved me a bit she never watched out for me

And my second sister beat me, raped me, gaslit me fucking constantly, the real deal not the way people incorrectly use that word, and almost killed me a lot,

Ma worked constantly, still does, she is only now (as I'm beginning to talk about things) finding out just how often I was left to my own supervision,

But Lady and Tramp

And yes we had two dogs named Lady (German shepherd) and Tramp (husky/wolf)

They, took care of me Tramp even more reared me like I was his own,

I tussled and played with their puppies, grew up beside them

Watched Lady die when I was 7,

Rusty one of their babies my big brother ma and I buried together when I was 5 After Dennis threw rat poison around the house to kill the mice and killed Rusty

I watched Corky die and then Trampy and Sammy and then Rusty and Sammy's boy Socks

They were my family

Every dog and cat I've had has been my family,

And thinking about them all today

Thinking about this world we're all living in,

Something I want to say

There is no overarching Justice

No grand moment where evil men or women are struck down by righteous gods

Maybe that shit happened or maybe they were stories I don't fucking know I wasn't alive back then I'm alive now

And now, there are no saviors

There is just me, just you

And the choices we make

Martin Luther King Jr said something about how the long arch of history bends towards justice,

But he and people like him bent it towards justice with their bare hands and their very lives,

All we have achieved for justice for equality have been done by mortal living hands

And we cannot fucking give up

Don't listen to those people telling you it's hopeless that the world is evil

The world is beautiful

The stars, the rainbows, the thunder and lightning, the frogs so small they can sit on a finger nail, the mountains, mouse, geese, the castles and pyramids the things our ancestors created, ect

Hell the bit of plastic and wires and weird rock you are reading this on, isn't that cool,

Yeah there's downsides to it we need to figure out how to do it better,

We need to figure out how to do it better.

All of it.

And we will,

because we always do.

So don't listen to the people that say to give up that it's to late,

Just because they've given up doesn't mean you have to

I'm hurting I'm going to hurt for the rest of my life,

But I would not take a minute of it back not a moment,

My life has been full of pain but also full of love,

I wanted to die for a time, a long time,

But there is so much in this world to love,

I want to live,

I want to keep falling in love over and over again,

In love with animals,

the ones I adopted into my family

ones a half a world away,

Fucking platypus the most animal to animal,

The rain every fucking time it hits my roof or my head,

I hope I'll get a chance to fall in love romantically one day but I'm ok if I don't there's so much else to love,

And I'm going to fight The Fight for the rest of my life because all these things I love are worth fighting for,

I'm not in a position right now to do the things I want to but,

I can do some things,

I can do ofwoodandbones lost dog spell to help strangers get their lost pets back, which I've successfully done more then once,

I collect cans and recycle

I pour stale water out on plants rather then down the drain,

I planted a bunch of plants in my backyard bees fucking love

I vote, I vote smart and don't throw my vote away for a false sense of moral superiority,

So

Find something to love to love it hard and do what you can to protect it,

Doesn't matter what,

Everything matters,

Love shit, protect it,

Don't give up,

To all y'all who are my allies in The Fight,

May the great Titan Witch light your way, may you find your path or make one, may you love and be loved, may your body be strong enough to hold your spirit

[jacksprostate]

Part 4 (with links to the other parts)

The first thing I do is, I talk to the man who takes my sheets, with his scrapdog ears and eyebrows, and I tell him: address him properly.

The word spreads on its own. I remember, before I was used to it, that knowing lilt. Sir. It’s still present. Take your pills, sir. It’ll be alright, sir. Take your time recovering. 

Mills starts cursing at the staff. We pass in the halls, he yells at me, tells me to stop them. He’s not their fucking leader. Call off my dogs.

I smile, too wide. They’ve never listened to me, not really. Especially not on this.

I can’t help you. 

Naturally, he hates this. 

The second thing I do is, I ask for photographs. News clippings. Marla’s dildo was large, questionable, encouraging of disorder, and a choking hazard. Slips of paper are much more tolerable contraband. I’m given free rein, like one of Zimbardo’s incentivized guards. It’s a psychology experiment in a psychology experiment, and my psychiatrist is playing Jane Goodall. 

It’s arts and crafts, and all the attendees are either bruised or braindead. There is no one stopping me. I glue all my collected pieces together into the rough shape of a heart, like it’s Valentine’s Day, and I turn to Mills, trapped at the back of the room. He hasn’t seen a shred of what I’m up to. 

Something to remember her by, I say. I don’t call him sir, because I never have. I wonder if he knows this.

I see him look, more instinct than anything from getting layers of paper shoved in his face, and I see how he clenches his teeth so hard his jaw creaks. He rips the collage of his wife out of my hands, and I can tell, he hates me. Real hate, like he wants death to fuck my body until it’s not even for the worms. 

He can’t bear to destroy it, and now I know every time he looks at it in his room, he’ll be thinking of me. Funny how that works.

The thing is; Mills actually didn’t try to kill me this time, so I think I need to take it up a notch. 

I cross the cafeteria just so I can spit in his food. I piss on his door and get the space monkey janitors to leave it for fifty-seven hours. In group therapy, I take a page from Chloe and monologue about how the last thing I’d like to do is get my rocks off chemically unhindered before the seizure medications they’ve got me on arrest all of my brain activity altogether. A nice nugget for Mills to report back to Somerset about my proposed psychosexual obsession. I segue into discussing how I met Tyler, on the nude beach, grit all across him as he hauled pilings and sat with his bare ass in the sand. It’s the most I’ve ever said about Tyler. The group minder scribbles on her sheet like mad as I describe Tyler’s wet, blond hair. His minute of perfection.

And he still doesn’t try to fight me. I know he wants to. He wants to shake me by my throat and rattle me and slam my head into the ground until it splits open like a rotten egg. But he doesn’t, and he looks torn. Like he’s guilty. Like Tyler could ever really feel guilt. 

This is one of the things I want to complain about when Marla calls me. 

She still does. More than when she was alive. But she says nothing, and I can’t break the silence. I sit there, orderlies watching as I say nothing, she says nothing, just a whole bunch of dead air between us.

Ghosts were always calling for Marla, at Paper Street. 

Now I’ve got Marla’s ghost on the line and Tyler’s ghost in the flesh, and neither want to talk to me. 

We get locked up in supervised one-on-one again, now with both of us chained and one twitch away from a new addiction.

I ask Mills, did you talk to her enough, that last week?

Do you think she knew you loved her?

Do you think she felt loved?

Mills asks for the sedation, this time. Polite about it, like he’s not seething. Like I can’t see how his eyes have been only half empty most of these days, since I’ve managed to fill him up with rage at me. Folie à deux, I want it so bad. 

I am Jack’s crippling sense of rejection.

My stupid psychiatrist, he lets Mills amble out of the room and traps me in there. 

I’m corralled. An angel on either shoulder. All the staff who aren’t from the Project have stopped laughing at my jokes. My antics have not gone unobserved. I’ve been given my time to rein as the world’s most entertaining lab rat, and now this localized god wants results.

“What’s your goal here?”

Isn’t it obvious?

“No. Tell me about what you’re thinking,” he says. I look at him, and I see him, for the first time. Not disillusioned, not holy. Just a sniveling doctor with a penchant for human experimentation and the funding to enable him. 

How horribly average.

He says, “I understand this is difficult for you, but we really need to know what’s going on if you want to have continued support in this manner for your recovery.” Play nice, or you’ll lose your favorite toy.

I say, this has never been about recovery. It’s time we faced that, isn’t it?

This man, so used to my religious apathy, has never truly had a challenge. He looks pinched.

He says, “Of course I want you to recover.”

And I laugh, and I point out that we both know those outside these halls are more interested in what’s wrong with me than any semblance of fixing it. 

You’re not getting paid to drain the swamp in my head. You’re here to keep it plugged up, decomposing. We both know this, I’m just acknowledging it. I laugh.

I tell this little god, he can write me up in all his little acclaimed journals.

But don’t come to me, saying I have to play your little games or you’ll take Mills away. We both know you won’t. The day I give up, the day I become a real vegetable is the day your cash cow keels over. You’re not going to punish me. Not really. You’ll take away my jello, my oats, you’ll put me on lithium and clozapine and valproic acid, but you don’t really want this to end. You don’t want me to get better. You want Tyler back just as much as I do. You can’t do shit to me. I have nothing to lose.

You have everything.

Tyler’s words, back home in my mouth. They’re mine now. I get up and the orderlies flanking me do nothing. I look down on this small, small man, and I think, he has never known a bigger fish. He doesn’t even know the hands that feed him.

I’ve hit bottom, I say, and it’s not you who holds the shovel. Be grateful I let you observe.