#one of the reasons i feel this way to begin w/ is cause i've started wondering just how much of my value to him is abt the way i've never

[kindacreepy-kindaugly]

feelin kinda guilty for bein scared

[benevolentbones]

distance | spencer reid x reader

song fic based on distance by christina perri

warnings: angsty-ish? (un)requited love? gender neutral reader

word count: 2.3k

summary: spencer suddenly begins to distance himself from you, and you don’t know why.

a/n: i hope you enjoy this!!! i recommend you listen to the song before/during reading this<3 reblogs and comments appreciated

it was early afternoon at the bau, the team were all seated at their respective desks reading over case files and filling in paperwork.

a pale golden light filled the room as sunshine streamed in through the large east-facing windows of the bullpen.

a mosaic of reflections was created as it danced off the metal and glass surfaces, giving the otherwise ordinary scene a hint of magic. the desks, which were before overflowing with paperwork and coffee cups, appeared to be glowing softly, with the shadows cast by their contents extending far and wide across the ground.

the sun is filling up the room,

and i can hear you dreaming.

spencer yawned and leaned back in his seat, his hair a mess as he continued working on the mountain of paperwork. he glanced at you and notices the way the sunlight shined on your face, turning his head so you didn't notice him staring.

he was trying his best to keep his composure as he felt a swarm of butterflies in his stomach. there was something about the way you would look focused, your eyes scanning over documents, that made his heart skip a beat.

do you feel the way i do, right now?

i wish we would just give up,

'cause the best part is falling.

morgan walked over to spencer's desk, his curiosity piqued by spencer's frequent glances in your direction. he leaned against the partition, arms crossed, and waited for spencer to look up from his paperwork.

"hey, lover boy," morgan started, a playful tone in his voice. "i've been noticing something.” spencer eyed morgan, his brows furrowed in confusion.

“you've been staring at y/n a lot today. you got a little crush on them or something?" morgan’s eyes trailed over to you, you were stacking some files on your desk.

spencer's face turned crimson as he fumbled with the pen in his hand. "w-what? no, no, it's not like that-" he stammered, his eyes darting around as if searching for an escape.

morgan raised an eyebrow, a knowing smile creeping across his face. "oh really? because it sure looks like it from here."

spencer took a deep breath, trying to collect himself. "i wasn't staring. i mean, i might have looked over a few times, but it’s just because... because they’re working on the same case as i am."

morgan chuckled, shaking his head. "sure, man. whatever you say. just be careful, though. you might want to try being a bit less obvious if you don't want anyone else to notice."

as Morgan shuffled away, he looked back and shot spencer a wink. the hazel eyed man buried his face in his hands, wishing he could disappear into his desk.

“it’s not like that..” he muttered into his hands, lying to himself.

call it anything but love.

you had noticed spencer’s behaviour changing towards you over the last few weeks, he seemed a lot more reserved, closed off, and to be completely honest it was bothering you more than you’d like to admit.

spencer was one of your close friends at the bau, you always spent time with him, especially on your lunch break, but recently he had been taking lunch at a separate time, the reason unbeknownst to you.

so there you were, sitting alone in the lunch room for the fourth day in a row that week, aimlessly scraping your fork against your plate. your free hand intertwining with the wires of your headphones as you listened to music, filling the silence with your favourite band.

you kept your head low, not noticing spencer enter the lunchroom. he paused briefly in the doorway, his gaze fixing on your form. he let out a small sigh, his expression saddening when he notices you’re alone.

he hated avoiding you, this is when you both would usually chat about your day or make plans to hang out after work- and there he was distancing himself from you because he didn’t want to ruin the friendship because of his silly feelings.

he chewed on his bottom lip, mentally battling it out in his brain wether he should go and speak to you or not. he decided on the latter, mumbling to himself.

“i love you- and i hate it.”

and i will make sure to keep my distance,

say i love you when you're not listening,

how long, can we keep this, up?

the team had just been assigned a new case, everyone stood around as jj briefed them. spencer arrived in late, the only remaining spot free would cause him to be wedged between morgan and you.

he reluctantly stood beside you, glancing over to your form. his face growing warm when he noticed your eyes on him, giving him a reserved smile.

he could feel his breath hitch in his throat at your proximity, he couldn’t recall the last time he was the close to you in the last few weeks and it was driving him insane.

please don't stand so close to me

i’m having trouble breathing.

for the entire briefing, spencer spent his time casting glances in your direction. god, he thought, you looked so beautiful as you intently listened to jj speak.

your shirt hugging your frame perfectly, the sleeves rolled up to your elbows. you wore your signature perfume, the familiar scent clawing at his senses.

how he wanted to just pull you aside as kiss you, tell you how he’s been feeling the last few weeks- how he wished that you would want him back, he dreamed of being with you and it was ruining his life.

but he was afraid. afraid he would mess things up with you, afraid you wouldn’t feel the same and everything would be different, more than it already was. he wasn’t good in relationships, he thought, he wasn’t good enough for you. they never worked out well for him- and he couldn’t do that to you. he loved you too much.

i'm afraid of what you'll see, right now.

i'll give you everything i am,

all my broken heartbeats.

until i know you'll understand.

when it was time for the team to board the jet, spencer opted to sit in the corner next to morgan. as you walked down the aircraft, your eyes flickered over his seated form, feeling a slight pang in your chest.

spencer always sat with you- you would both usually read together or play chess- or he would let you sleep against his shoulder. but seeing him sitting with morgan, his head already buried in a book, really upset you.

you shuffled to the other side of the jet, sitting down in your usual spot on the couch, a small frown etched onto your features, which didn’t go unnoticed by the majority of the team. they had all come to realise spencer’s draw back from you, and it was starting to effect both spencer and your work.

as the jet took off, everyone busied themselves, reading over case files or chatting to each other quietly. you racked your brain for a reason why spencer had been so distant with you, did you do something wrong? did you upset him? you couldn’t figure it out, and it was driving you mad.

you worried that maybe he caught onto your feelings for him, and that this was his way of showing he had no interest in you. you frowned even more at the thought, putting your headphones on to try and distract from the gnawing pain in your chest.

morgan glanced down the jet, noticing your reclusive form and upset facial expression. he hated to see you like that. he turned to spencer, almost knocking the book the younger man was reading, out of his hands.

“what was that for?” spencer spoke in a defensive tone, shutting the book to focus his attention on morgan.

“what’s the deal reid?” morgan spoke, his tone confrontational unlike how he usually joked. “why are you avoiding y/n?”

spencer felt a pang of guilt, his dark eyes quickly flickering onto you. you sat with your knees pressed to your chest, your chin resting on top of them. “i’m not-“

“cut the crap- yes you are. what’s your problem, huh?” morgan cut him off, more harshly then he had intended.

spencer’s gaze drifts over to you, examining you for a moment before going back to morgan, who was impatiently waiting for an answer.

“i..” he began, internally conflicted on wether he should explain himself to the older man beside him. “i- i love them. and i know they don’t feel the same- i’m not good enough.” he mumbled out lowly so only morgan could pick up on his words.

“you are an idiot, you know that reid?” morgan ran a hand over his face, partially annoyed at the fact that spencer could be so oblivious at times.

and i will make sure to keep my distance,

say i love you when you're not listening,

how long, can we keep this, up?

after the team landed, everyone disembarked the jet. you quickly put your headphones in your go bag and shuffled down the jet. spencer stood from his seated position as you passed, he reached out a hand, his mouth forming words that couldn’t escape past his lips. you moved past him, your bag bumping against his arm as you left.

spencer looked back to morgan, who raised his eyebrow giving spencer a knowing look. if he didn’t say something today he would lose you, your friendship.

after a long day of working on the case, traveling from crime scene to crime scene, hotch finally called the team in for the night. you were all set up in a fairly decent hotel for the night.

hotch passed out keycards to the entire team, slowly handing you the piece of plastic, a remorseful look plastered on his usually stern features. you thanked him and walked in the direction of your room, unknownst to you that someone was following.

“y/n- wait.” spencer called out, stopping you in your tracks right outside your hotel room.

you stared back at him, noticing the concern in his voice. “what is it, spencer.” your voice was tired, today was exhausting and you wanted nothing more than slip into your bed and fall asleep.

“can..can we talk?”

you ran a hand through your hair, chewing on the inside of your cheek. “i’m really tired reid..” you trailed off. this stung him a bit, you never referred to him by his last name. his facial expression contorted, a sad looking washing over his features.

your eyes softened, despite it all you still loved him. “…what is it.” you mumbled out, leaning against the wallpaper on the corridor.

“i- i’m sorry.”

you sighed, trying to understand the depth of his apology. “for what..”

spencer’s shoulders slumped as he looked down at his hands, fidgeting with his own hotel key card. “for everything…” he paused, his dark eyes trailing up your body to meet yours.

“for not- talking to you- for keeping my distance- i didn’t mean..”

“why, why did you do it?” you muttered out, your gaze not leaving his taller form.

spencer let out a shaky breath “i was afraid-“

“afraid of what? we’ve been friends for years- and suddenly you just stop talking to me out of nowhere- what did i do wrong?” you scoffed out, folding your arms over your chest.

spencer averted his eyes, glancing around the hall at the faded wallpaper, the patterned carpets..anything but you.

“that’s exactly why- i didn’t want to ruin things.”

“for someone so logical- you’re not making any sense at all, spencer.”

he huffed slightly, his hazel eyes flickering over you once more. “i was afraid of losing you if i told you- i-“ he struggled to continue his sentence.

you shifted your stance, your body language becoming less defensive than it had been.

and i keep waiting

for you to take me

and you keep waiting

to save what we had

“how would you lose me..”

“if i told you how- how i feel- our friendship would be ruined- and i didn’t want to lose that, i care about you too much..” he trailed off, his soft eyes staring right back at you.

your eyebrows furrowed slightly, face warming. what did he mean by that. a small scoff passed your lips as you spoke. “how would you know, you didn’t communicate anything to me. you just shut yourself off.”

spencer looked down at his shoes, his voice soft. “i know…i’m sorry.”

you could hear the sincerity in his voice, you knew he felt guilty for this. you inhaled through your nose before you spoke. “look spencer..i’m tired. lets just…continue this tomorrow.”

he let out a defeated sigh, nodding towards you. “okay..goodnight y/n.” he trailed off, watching as you turned to your hotel room door, slipping the keycard into the lock.

“goodnight spencer…”

make sure to keep my distance,

say i love you when you're not listening,

how long, 'til we call this love?

taglist!! @0108s22m @rainoftearss @potatovoyager @rac00ns-are-c00l4 @luvmia222 @shardsofmarxx @silver138 @lover-of-books-and-tea @thedancingnerdmermaid @khxna

[gorgeys]

heyyy i've been thinking about this specific scenario w our queen for a while now and id love to see you writing about it if possible bc ur amazinggg

so basically ive been thinking about maeve and reader being in the beginning of their relationship but maeve is still very closed off and hates any sign of vulnerability so when reader notices that and tries to help maeve process her emotions in a healthier way than w drugs or just bottling up like she always does she gets really defensive and fight w reader about it but then maeve realize that it was a shitty thing to do n apologize to reader because she really wants this to work its just that old habits die hard

basically angst w happy ending bc im a sucker for hurt/comfort

never let me go ★ queen maeve

Queen Maeve x fem!reader

Maeve has her walls up, but you help her break them down

Warnings: angst, hurt/comfort

Word Count: 2960

Note: thank you sm for the great request! i'm not the best at writing this hurt/comfort stuff but i really tried!! i hope you enjoy!

you stuffed shredded chicken into a searing pan of sauce.  if someone had walked in, they would have assumed you were cooking for a family of six. but no, the pan was piled high just for your girlfriend who had a never-ending appetite and claimed she'd rather eat your food than the meals at any restaurant.  that boosted your ego quite a bit considering maeve had literally dined at the most expensive and renowned restaurants in America.

some nights she'd come up behind you while you whipped up one of your classic dishes and wrap her arms around your waist.  she'd leave little kisses behind your ear and tell you how much she missed you, leaving a stupid smile on your face.  then she'd rest her head on your shoulder and ask you to tell her everything about your day because her day was "boring as usual."  you didn't consider being a crime-fighting superhero boring by any means, but you got the hint that she didn't want to talk about it.

but then other nights you wondered if the meal was all she came for.  it was nights like tonight, where she sat silently at the kitchen table with a beer in one hand and an empty bottle beside her, that left you worrying. whenever you glanced back at her, she always seemed to be blankly staring off into space, as if complicated thoughts were clouding her mind.  you had tried giving her space but you couldn't get rid of the feeling that something was wrong.

she only makes her presence known when she gets up from her chair, opens the fridge, and reaches for another beer.  upon noticing, you release a tired sigh that catches her attention.

"maeve, do you really need another?" you ask without turning around.  "i mean, you're gonna finish the whole case."

she closes the fridge behind her.

"i can just go out and buy some more," she says with a simple shrug.

"no, maeve, that's not what i mean," you say.  you half turn to meet her eyes and just look at her for a moment, wondering if she'll catch on.  from the little twitch of her eyes, you think she does, but she still doesn't say anything.  she just stands there and stares back at you, her hand wrapped around the neck of the bottle.  you sigh once more.  "is something going on?"

"what? no," she quickly says with the slight furrow of her eyebrows as if it's a stupid question. she doesn't sound one bit convincing.

"right," you say, fully turning around and dropping the wooden spoon into the pan. you lean your back against the edge of the counter.  "so you just sit in silence, drinking like a fish for no reason at all?"

she scoffs and laughs as if you're being absurd.

"since when do you care how much i drink?" she asks with her usual satirical smile.  you know that smile well.  it's the one she always displays when the conversation is teetering on something uncomfortable.

"since you started drinking like a middle-aged man going through a divorce."

"oh, come on, y/n" she says, waving you off.  "it's just cause i can't really get drunk like a normal person.  i need a few more."

"a few more?" you ask with raised eyebrows.  "maeve, you drink enough to kill a couple racehorses.  i mean, the only people i've seen drink that much are people trying to forget things."

her smile falters and you take it as a sign that you're headed in the right direction.

"if anything's going on, i want you to know that you can talk to me about it," you say sincerely, taking a step toward her.  "i'm always here for you, no matter what."

you catch her rolling her eyes before she turns away from you.

"god, stop with all the sappy shit," she says sharply.  she slams the beer on the tabletop rather hard.  "i'm fine, okay?" she says, borderline shouting.

"then talk to me, please," you say, placing a hand over your chest.  you know you sound a little pathetic as you plead but you hope it gets through to her.  "because it's so hard to guess what you're feeling when you just sit there not saying anything.  i can only imagine the worst."

she audibly groans before she sits back in her chair.  her eyes lock dead onto yours and she ignores the desperation written all over your face.

"i have shitty enough days already, the last thing i wanna do is come here and talk about my fucking feelings like i'm in kindergarten.  i deal with enough children at vought already," she says, crossing her arms and staring daggers into you.

you press your lips together out of frustration.  she's a grown woman but she's acting like an immature teenager.

"well you can't just keep everything to yourself," you say, matching her posture and crossing your own arms.  "i know it's a lot to carry between the seven and vought and having to save everyone in this whole shitty city, so don't feel like you have to carry it alone."

she laughs at you and it only feels like a punch to your gut.

"god, i didn't know i was talking to my fucking therapist," she says, overenunciating her words and practically spitting at you in the process.  "do you come up with these lines yourself or do you steal them off inspirational pinterest boards?" she asks with a derisive smile.

"maeve," you sigh, growing tired of this game that you're playing.  she's usually awful at these touchy conversations but she's especially defensive tonight.  you take another step toward her. "all i'm asking is that you have a real conversation with me.  i mean, i feel like i'm talking to a stranger half the time because i don't know a single thing about you.  you wanna talk about the bachelor for an hour but can't tell me a thing about your day or what's actually bothering you.  it's like pulling teeth with you."

you take a final cautious step toward her and place one palm on the table to support your weight. you're standing just inches away from her.

"stop shutting me out.  it's hurting both of us," you say, more softly this time.

"you mean it's hurting you," she says, punctuating her words by slamming her fist on the table, causing you to flinch and jump away from her.  you look down and notice she's cracked the wooden surface.

you've never been seriously scared of her strength before, but you are in this moment.

"i'm doing just fine, actually. you just want me to have a break down so you can feel better about yourself and your small, meaningless problems," she says, rising from her chair.

you scoff out of disbelief.

"do you even hear yourself right now?" you ask, throwing your hands up in the air.  "i'm your girlfriend, not some villain you have to fight.  i'm not praying on your downfall.  all i wanna do is help you."

she laughs and shakes her head while you huff.  it boils your blood when she treats you like this, like some ignorant outsider, not someone who cares so deeply about her.

"oh, okay y/n, so let's just hold hands and sing kumbaya and maybe all my problems will disappear," she says, the typical sarcasm dripping from her tone.  it's quickly replaced by venom.  "you can't do anything to help me.  you're stupid for ever thinking you could," she yells, before falling back into her chair and opening the beer bottle with the flick of her thumb.

once again, you just stare at her, wondering if she'll recognize the insanity behind her words and the visible hurt they've inflicted on you.  but no, she just takes a long swig from the bottle, letting you know that nothing you've said has pierced her tough exterior.

finally, you've reached your limit with her.  you know this is going nowhere.

"well fuck me, maeve, for trying to help," you say, spinning around and turning the stove off.  she puts her beer down, a little surprised by the abrupt change in your usually understanding nature.  "you can make your own dinner and go back to your bougie penthouse and drink yourself to death up there, okay?  i'm not fucking doing this tonight."

she only watches as you, with glossy eyes, stomp toward your bedroom and slam the door behind you.  she doesn't make an effort to stop you, but instead sits there almost dumbfounded by the way she's tipped you over the edge.  she had never seen you like this before.

she stays at your now cracked kitchen table for quite a while, downing her third beer and contemplating if she should go in and talk to you or leave like you asked.

even if she did push aside the embarrassment and work up the courage to knock on your bedroom door, what would she even say to you?  that she has blood on her hands from all the people homelander's killed and she can't take it anymore?  that when she closes her eyes, all she can see are those screaming, terrified, innocent people?  that that's why she's broken inside?  no, those are her burdens to carry, not yours, she thinks.  she can't scare you away now, not this soon.

"fuck," she curses as she stands up from the table, eyes locked on your bedroom door.

she wants to be in that bed with you, her head tucked in the crook of your neck as you sleep soundly.  she wants to fall asleep to your perfect, soothing smell and the soft sound of your breathing like she usually does.

but no.  no matter how much her heart hurts, she can't bring herself to your door.  she can't let you see through her like that.  instead, she throws the bottles into your trash can and walks out of your apartment.

xxx

for the next few days, all maeve can think about is you.  she thinks about you opening your apartment door for her, close to midnight, after a long night of crime-fighting.  you're in your cute plaid pajama pants and maybe your oversized queen maeve shirt that she stole for you from vought tower.

she thinks about watching netflix on the couch with you, cuddled under your favorite soft blue blanket.  she thinks about the moment you slump against her shoulder as you begin to doze off.

she even misses your texts.  she misses your "have the best day, baby!!" texts.  she misses all the heart-eye emojis you send her.  she misses the cute impromptu pictures you take, especially the ones you take of yourself kissing random queen maeve billboards or posters around the city.  she misses your "i love you <3" texts.

and it's during a boring seven meeting where she keeps checking her phone, hoping for a text from you, that she realizes that she can't lose you.  she desperately needs you and every day that she doesn't see you feels like a pointless one.  she can't carry on with vought or the seven or saving people if she doesn't have you to come home to.

so maybe, to make this thing between the two of you work, she needs to change.  maybe she needs to open up, because losing you is not an option.

that's the sentiment she repeats in her head as she knocks on your apartment door, waiting impatiently to see you for the first time since your fight.

she hears the pitter pattering of your bare feet from behind the door before you swing it open.  and there you are, in all your glory of messy hair and sweatpants.  you don't say anything, so maeve sends you a weak smile.

"hi," she says awkwardly, looking almost embarrassed to be in her current situation.

"hi," you reply, more coldly than she's used to.  though she understands after everything she said last time.

she stares at you for another beat, soaking in every part of your presence.  relief floods her body just seeing you.

"i, um, i bought you a new table," she says, raising the cardboard ikea box she had tucked under one arm.  "i'm sorry about what i did to your other one."

you open the door wider so she can come in and set the box down in your kitchen.  when she walks back to you, you still have one hand on the door edge, holding the door open.

"is that all you came to do or..."

she can't read your blank expression.  do you want her to leave or stay?  it doesn't matter.  she has to be brave right now.

"no," she says, standing awkwardly in your living room, her fingers playing with the hem of her sweater.  she nervously looks down at the floor for a moment.  she reminds you of a shy school girl that's trying to work up the courage to ask out her crush.  "can we talk?"

you close and lock the door and notice that maeve's already invited herself to sit on your couch.  so you sit beside her, your body turned toward her and your elbow resting on the top of the couch.  you watch as she sits there stiffly, as if she's never been there before, with her hands tightly folded in her lap.

her gaze nervously flickers from your face to her hands every few seconds.  you can see the gears in her brain spinning in overdrive as she tries to find the right words.  although the air is slightly tense and awkward, you would sit there for hours if it meant maeve would finally share herself with you.

"y/n," she finally says, abruptly raising her head to look you in the eye.  your heart jumps a little. "being a hero isn't all it's cracked up to be.  i've...seen terrible things," she says before taking a deep breath.  "i've done terrible things."

you realize that this is the moment.  this is the moment where she's finally going to let you into her life.  her whole life.  so, you shelve your anger and gently rest a hand over one of her wrists.  you give her skin a soft, encouraging squeeze that tells her to continue.

"and...the guilt is the worst part.  i-" she pauses to take another shaky breath and then press her lips together.  you can see that tears are beginning to prick the corners of her eyes.  "i don't know what to do," she admits, her voice cracking.  your heart cracks along with it.

"and i guess..." she continues.  "i didn't want you to have to worry about that.  i didn't want to scare you," she says, looking back down at her hands.

"maeve," you coo, resting your other hand on her shoulder.  a pout naturally finds it's way to your lips.  seeing her this emotional almost makes you want to cry with her.

"and i'm so sorry.  because...not telling you made everything even worse.  and i just don't want to lose you," she says, a tear rolling down her cheek.  her hand immediately rises to wipe it away.  "i don't want to lose you because of something stupid like this."

"maeve," you say, your hand leaving her shoulder to push a strand of hair out of her face.  "it's okay., it's not stupid.  i get it, you're not used to doing...this. i know it's hard for you."  you gently hold her cheek in her hand, forcing her to make eye contact with you.  "but you could never scare me away.  i promise.  i'm with you because i want to know all of you.  all the bad stuff too."

"but, y/n, it's really bad," she says, pressing her lips together to prevent herself from breaking down.

you're leaning into her and holding her face with both hands now, your foreheads almost touching.

"maeve, you're a good person," you say.  you sound so sincere that maeve can't help the silent tears that start to flow rapidly.  that was everything she needed to hear and more.  "i know that.  you know that.  whatever is going on, it's not something that we can't overcome together.  if you let me in, i'm going to help you as much as i can, okay?  i'm always here for you," you say.

she nods in your hands and feels her body flooded by an overwhelming sense of comfort.

"i need you, y/n.  i need this to work. and i wanna be better.  for you," she says, finally bumping your forehead with hers.

"i know.  and i know it's scary to tell me all this stuff but i promise, it's going to get easier.  if you trust me, there's nothing we can't do," you say, a little smile finding it's way to your face.  you know it sounds cheesy and it's something maeve would have made fun of you for under typical circumstances, but in the moment, it feels right.  "and you know i love you, right?"

she instinctively wraps her arms around your shoulders, engulfing you in the tightest hug you've ever received from her.  she familiarly tucks her head into the crook of your neck, inhaling that smell she missed so much.

"i love you so much," she whispers into your skin and you melt in her arms.  you hold her just as tightly, your fingers rubbing up and down her back.  "i missed you."

"i missed you more," you say.

"i'm never letting you go again," she says, squeezing you to her chest even tighter, and you laugh softly.  she's telling the honest truth.

though fear still lingered in the back of her mind, this feeling sure as hell beat any alcohol.

[askinkiskarma]

Cruel Summer | Chapter IV: 'Tis The Damn Season

Pairings: Neteyam x (f)Human!Reader

Word Count: 8.2k words

Warnings/notes: angst, allusions to/mentions of smut, Neteyam x reader being the absolute cutest, some fluff, all the feels, 18+ minors DNI

Synopsis: Neteyam in unable to stop himself from confessing a truth he's tried to bury for years, a truth that will change everything between you. Jake shares news with his son that will threaten whatever peace Neteyam's come to know.

A/N: there's no earthly reason why this chapter had to take so long except my own inability to write it and procrastinating with requests instead. i hope this was worth the wait, and as this is the second to last chapter, prepare yourself for the main meal soon. I don't think that will take that long, cause I've had the last chapter in my mind before I even started writing this story to begin with. I hope you enjoy, i'd love to hear your thoughts, i love to hear from you besties.

: ̗̀➛ listen to the Cruel Summer playlist here : ̗̀➛ masterlist (x) : ̗̀➛ series masterlist (x)

 

I'm stayin' at my parents' house

And the road not taken looks real good now

And it always leads to you in my hometown

Neteyam’s head was spinning with worry and mind-numbing fear, watching his sister’s spirit be taken out of her, her bioluminescent freckles that usually shine brighter than any other Na’vi he’s ever seen so dim they were barely alight anymore. He was picking at his nails nervously, a habit he hasn’t had since he was 7, watching as his mother was trying her best to shake her awake, almost like she was trying to will life back into her. The wails got to Neteyam more than he cared to admit, and eventually, he excused himself and left the family marui, settling instead for watching the tiny glowing fish as they surrounded and circled his ankles. Neteyam rarely felt powerless in his life. No matter what the situation was, no matter how dire, he always felt like he could somehow make it his own, he could somehow make it work. But now, as he stood there, listening to cries and tries, listening to his family trying to figure out how to save his baby sister, Neteyam felt hopeless and helpless, like a child. In moments like this, he missed you most. It was hard being without you always, his body having to unlearn and relearn instincts and feelings, having to rewire his brain from having been so accustomed to you and your body, and your mind and your soul for the past 19 years of his life. You would know what to do. You’d have some medical trick or a human way, you’d scream everyone out of the room and you’d just somehow figure it out. You always were able to just… figure things out. He missed that, along with everything else. 

“I’m going to contact Norm and Max, ok, baby? It’s going to be alright, they’ll know what to do. It’ll be alright.” 

Neteyam was terrified as the hours passed, waiting for the flying machine he knew would be coming any minute, and what would it bring along with it. His questions, his biggest dream and biggest nightmare, all plaguing him and his mind for the past few hours, were swiftly answered as from the helicopter came three figures, one blue one and two humans. One human in particular he cared about. His heart was beating so loudly it was almost completely covering the incessant, deafening sound the propellor blades were making. You were so beautiful, even more beautiful than he remembered. He couldn’t help the way his eyes trailed over your body and focused on scars that have appeared in the time you were apart, scars that made his stomach drop, or the way your hair was shorter, or the way you have gotten leaner and more muscular. He couldn’t help his mind wandering and twisting every change, a deep feeling of sorrow and weird jealousy, for the people that got to watch you grow, for the people that had to touch your body to heal your wounds, for the people the got to help you when he didn’t - when he couldn’t. 

Your eyes immediately found his, the way they always had the power to, and his breath hitched in his throat, the way it always seemed to when you did. He didn’t miss the way your eyes widened imperceptibly as you noticed him, nor the way they hardened as his presence took his toll on your mind. The frown and the hurt, the slight glistening of tears threatening to spill reminded Neteyam of the last time he saw you, the time that could have gone better, should have gone better than it did, and how he never got the chance to say goodbye. So many words he wanted to say, so many confessions that have rested in his chest for years that needed to be let out but weren’t, now close to spilling out as a blurt of messed-up feelings. So close, yet so far. Because this wasn’t the time - it never seemed to be when it came to you and him. You stood in the back and watched as Norm and Max greeted his father, and you all made your way back to the tent, the attention fully back on his sister who was still unconscious. The sight of her tugged at his heart so much it was making him sick, so he refused to walk in and see what they were doing, what human devices and contraptions it took to bring Kiri back to them. 

There's an ache in you put there by the ache in me

But if it's all the same to you, it's the same to me

His skin felt like it caught fire as it perceived your body in its vicinity, as you walked out of the marui and settled on the weaved pathway by the edge of the water, feet dangling off it. It felt so strange, having you back in his space. Like so much and yet nothing had changed. Like he hadn’t left you, and his life behind, his happiness and hope, like you didn’t kick him out and refused to send him off and at least pretend to make it easier on both of you. Like he never had to keep pretending his life wasn’t permeated fully by your very essence, your very being, by everything you were. 

“Vol…” 

You didn’t look at him. You couldn’t. Neteyam felt anger bubble up inside him. This whole thing was so fucking unfair. You were so fucking unfair. He didn’t choose any of this. He didn’t want to leave you, why can’t you see that? Why could you not at least try to understand, try to be a little sympathetic towards the fact that this was killing him, and he suffered everyday, and the cold he felt from you cut worse than any blade, hurt worse than any wound. 

“God fucking damn it, Vol. Can you stop with the attitude and just please talk to me? I don’t see you in months, you show up here, clearly, you wanted to see us… see me. I’m here, so just talk to me. If you have to scream, or shout, or kick me, you can do that as long as you fucking talk.”

“I’m not here for you. I’m here for Kiri.” 

“Oh, stop it. Norm and Max could take care of Kiri well enough, and you know that. You’re not just here for Kiri. You’re here for me, too. I want to talk, we have to talk.” 

“No, Neteyam. We don’t have to talk. There’s nothing to talk about because nothing fucking matters anymore. None of it. We’re just strangers now, right? Acquaintances. I’ll see you every few months whenever Jake needs something and that’s about the extent of our relationship. Nineteen years of being there for you, of being your best friend, and in a day, you somehow became a stranger. You gave away the right to talk to me the second you walked out that door.”  

Neteyam watched as you took your leave, going back into the tent, leaving him once more to deal with all that stood to plague him.

It took hours, but Kiri’s condition wasn’t improving even with all the contraptions and equipment you were using on her. None of you knew what was wrong, although Norm and Max thought it was epilepsy. It looked like epilepsy, you thought, but if it had been, she would be back by now. It hurt you watching her like that, laying on the floor, the light of her freckles so dim they were barely visible anymore, and you touched her, running your hands over her chest and arm, hoping you could pray the light back into her, so you could tell her you’re sorry that you didn’t say goodbye to her. You would tell her that every time you are in the forest and you find a bead or flower that you’ve never seen before, you collect it with her in mind and keep it there in the hopes you’ll one day see her again, and she could use them for her tops or for the jewellery she always makes for everyone she loves. You missed her, the same way you missed them all, and you needed her to know that, despite all the hurt and the pain they’ve left behind, she would always be your sister. 

Neytiri eyed you curiously while you spent time with her daughter, and you cowered a little under her gaze. You knew it was dumb, but you’ve always loved Neytiri. You watched your whole life as she was the best mother to her children, and how patient and caring and funny and attentive she was, and you always hoped one day she’d learn to love you too, and that through her you could finally feel what it was like to have a mother, a loving mother. But she never did, no matter the time that passed or the efforts you made, so you stopped trying and forsook your futile aspirations. It was time to grow up, and you did - not fully whole, never quite the person you hoped you would become, but there was no point in dwelling on matters of the past, of realities you’d never be able to undo. 

“Will she live?” Your eyes snapped to her in shock as she spoke. She very rarely ever spoke to you directly. And not only did she do just that, but she asked you a question. A genuine question about the well-being of her daughter. You couldn’t believe she cared what you thought about it to ask. She sounded so sad and desolate, her voice hoarse and nasal from the amount she had cried. 

“I’m sure she will… she’s a tough girl. She’s special, she always has been. I think she’ll be just fine.” 

“Then why isn’t she awake yet? If it’s what they say it is… why?” Her voice broke at the last word and yours was not far off when you answered her. 

“I don’t know. But I don’t think they are right. I think it’s more complicated than that.”

She looked confused at you, then approached and sat down in front of her, across from you, as her hands also found Kiri’s body, pushing the bangs out of her face. 

“Her seizure happened at the Tree of Souls. At the bridge between this world and Eywa’s. I think nothing we, humans, or our technology could possibly do could bring her back. I think she needs the Tsa’hik.” 

Her eyes widened at your words and she immediately got up and sprinted out of the tent, and you hoped you were right, partly because of Kiri and partly cause maybe this way, not that it mattered anymore, but maybe she’d finally stop looking at you like a stray dog and more like an actual person.  

The next thing you knew, Neytiri came in with an array of people, the most imposing of which was a woman, who you assumed was the Metkayina Tsa’hik, who intimidated you beyond belief from the second she walked in, all tall and beautiful and imposing… and pregnant. You instinctively rose from your spot and got out, feeling a sudden chill in the room and knowing for a fact it wasn’t a place you were welcomed in anymore. You didn’t care, as long as it meant Kiri would be fine. You joined the rest of the family and the scientists outside, the silence thick as all of you watched with heavy hearts, hoping for a miracle. It took a while, but eventually, the silence was disrupted by gasps of relief as Kiri did indeed wake up, immediately tackled by several of her family members hugging her, consoling her as she cried. 

So we could call it even

You could call me babe for the weekend

'Tis the damn season, write this down

Early in the evening, when everything settled down, you made your way outside the marui once more, looking at the sky as it was preparing itself for eclipse, finally able to take in the beauty of this place, unlike anything you’ve ever seen before and more breathtaking than you could have ever imagined. You felt Neteyam’s presence flood your own as he approached you - your senses might never be as acute as theirs, neither your vision, or hearing, or touch able to hold a candle to their own, but none of that ever mattered when it came to him. His being was enough to turn you inside out, and sharpen your senses so that it would pick up everything about him, from his slightly musky and woody smell, that changed throughout the month as his heat approached, to the sound and cadence of his footsteps that were unmistakable to you no matter how far they were approaching you from, to the slight clink of the beads in his hair, that sometimes felt like it moved on its own accord, to even his breathing and its pattern, and the way it seemed to increase whenever he was close to you. 

“Now can we talk? Kiri’s fine, she’s finally fine. Please, Vol…” 

“Neteyam, I can’t make myself any clearer. I have nothing to say to you.” 

Neteyam felt anger overtake him again. What would he have to do to get you to listen, to get you to give him one second, just one second to explain to you, to talk to you? It was so fucking unfair, to have to lose so much and yet be painted as the villain by you, the person who’s supposed to know him better than anyone else in the world, who used to understand him, to whom he never had to explain any of his thought process because there was no need. You always just knew. He hoped he didn’t have to do this, but desperate times called for desperate measures, and with that rationale in mind, Neteyam approached you suddenly and picked you up, throwing you over his shoulder and making his way out of the village. 

“Are you out of your fucking mind?! Put me down!” Neteyam pondered her question for a second. Maybe he truly was out of his mind. None of this was like him at all, this is not something he would ever have done a while ago, never before you. Neteyam was selfless, that’s how he was brought up to be, that’s the only way he knew how to be. But for the first time in his life, he needed to be selfish. For the first time in his life, he would do what he wanted to do, and he wanted to talk to you. Alone. He wanted to feel you, he wanted to remember what it was like for his heart to jump out of his chest and for his nostrils to be flooded with the only scent that drove his senses haywire and for his mind to scramble trying to understand the myriad of emotions running through it while he looked at you. He hasn’t seen you in months, haven’t felt you in months, and he was supposed to let it go without a fight?

No fucking way. 

You were so light in his arms, it felt like he was carrying a doll, and he barely registered your tiny ineffectual fists punching at his back, although he did feel like your legs were definitely stronger, just like the rest of you was since he last saw you. He didn’t stop until he hit an isolate meadow in the mangrove forest, your annoyed huffs and croaky screams drowning out the beautiful melodies played by the birds and his family’s ikran, that now had a home in these trees.

“I have no problem with holding you like this the whole time, but I’d rather look at you while I speak. I will put you down, but I swear on everything I hold dear, Vol, if you run, I will drag you back by your feet if I have to. We are talking, whether you like it or not.” 

With that threat, he lifted you off his shoulder and put you gently on the ground. You stood where he placed you, but refused to look at him, a deep frown marring your beautiful face. He sighed, feeling defeated and unmoored, but kneeled in front of you so he can look at your face properly, and you could look at his. 

“Vol, we haven’t seen each other in months. I didn’t know whether I’d ever see you again, but you’re here. You came here, out of your own volition. I know you wanted to see me. I know you, Vol. And you know me. You’re the only one that knows me.” He takes a hold of your mask gently and angles your face with barely any force to make you face him. “I was so mad at you for the way you shut me out. For not allowing me to say goodbye the way I wanted to, the way I should have. I needed to hold you, and tell you that I’ll miss you and that you’ll always be my best friend. That I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” 

Your eyes could barely hold it in, the urge to let it out and cry. Cry at seeing him again, at how frustrating he was, how angry you were, but how happy at the same time to finally see him again, to feel his touch on your skin and the way it lit it on fire, the way desire and ache and love pulsed through your veins at his mere proximity, how, despite all the months, all the time, all the hurt, it felt like nothing had changed between you, like seeing him again was exactly like coming back home after a long day outside, exhausted and spent, and happy to be comfortable and safe again. 

“I don’t care. I don’t care how sorry any of you are. You left your clan behind, and me, all of us behind, to go hide while we stand and fight and worry for our lives and the lives of everyone in the clan.”

Your words struck a chord in Neteyam and he felt the anger prick painfully at his mind, and despite priding himself on his composure, he couldn’t hold it in any longer, not anymore. Months of anguish kept inside finally came out and there was little he could do to stop it.

“We left so we could protect you! Why must you be so stubborn all of the fucking time? This wasn’t done to hurt you, Vol. This has nothing to do with you! None of us wanted to go! Believe it or not, you’re not the only one affected by this. I understand that you are upset and you have every reason to be, but what was the alternative? Either we stayed and the whole clan was even more at risk than it already is, or we brought two humans with us across the oceans to a new clan that hates humans?! Stop being so fucking selfish for one second and understand this isn’t only about you! I fucking lost everything that day! I lost my home, and my friends, and my future as Olo’eyktan, fuck, I lost the woman I lo-“ 

Your eyes go wide in shock at the words almost spoken, words that you imagined all your life but couldn’t believe right now. That can’t be what he was telling you, right? After all this time apart, after all the time together, in which you shared anything and everything under the sun, in secrets kept and broken promises, it couldn’t be that Neteyam was confessing to you something you swore you’d never feel for each other, something you wanted nothing more than to hear, something that would somehow both kill you and put you back together at the same time. 

“What did you just say?” 

Time flies, messy as the mud on your truck tires

Now I'm missing your smile, hear me out

We could just ride around

And the road not taken looks real good now

And it always leads to you in my hometown

His own wide eyes settle after a while, deep, settling breaths calming his heartbeat that he could feel in his throat, in his ears, in his temples. This was it. After all this time, after everything you’ve gone through, ironically now when there was no chance for you, not that there ever was, now when he was mad at you, when he would lose you again in just a short while, now he was about to confess something that has plagued him for years, that he’s wanted to tell you, that he knew he never could. 

He slowly brought his hand to your neck and collarbone, eyes tearing up mirroring your own, and he knew it would be easy telling you this, because loving you was easy, and falling in love with you - the easiest thing he’s ever done. His thumb caressed your soft skin and he watched in wonder as your mouth opened slightly, a soft exhale escaping you, and he followed the tear that rolled down your cheek when you closed your eyes from the overwhelming feelings trying you. 

“I lost the woman I love. The only woman I’ve ever loved. The annoying, aggravating, impossible woman who I’ve watched become the most beautiful, intelligent, incredible person, who taught me everything I know about anything that matters. Who I promised I wouldn’t fall in love with, but I did. A long time ago.”

You shook your head slightly, feeling the tears fall down your face, the stitches that you managed to put in the wounds deep in your soul coming loose around him, bleeding once more, and you wondered if despite wishing to hear these words for years, now that you have, it was the last thing you were ever going to hear. Because how are you supposed to survive this now, this overbearing pain of loving him, and losing him, knowing all this time he loved you, too, and that this was so far past what you agreed on… that it was love, requited love, crazy, stupid, incredible, one-of-a-kind love?

“You can’t say shit like this to me, Neteyam. You think I’m selfish? How about you? Why would you say these things to me now? I’m about to leave, I’m about to lose you again. It took me months to put back together what you broke, and I’m still not there yet, and now you say this shit, and what am I supposed to do with it, huh? How am I supposed to move on? To accept that I love a man that’ll never be mine, that I’ll never have except in fleeting moments, in secret affairs, that I’ve had to watch turn his back to me and choose duty over me, over and over and over again. You’re being mean. You’re being selfish.” 

“You fucking taught me to be selfish. You told me over and over my whole life to be more selfish. Well here I am, I’m being selfish. I want something, and that something is you. I want you. I need you. I need you to know that I’m in love with you, and to know that at least once in my life I get to make love to the woman i love and know that she loves me too, and that this is real, and that I’ve known this feeling and lived this feeling, at least once. Please. Please just tell me it wasn’t in my head. That all these years, despite what we told each other and ourselves, I loved you and you loved me too. And it was real, the only real thing I’ve ever known.” 

He sounded so forlorn, so desperate for you to ease his pain and mend his heart that was just as broken as yours, that suffered through as much, if not more, that was laid bared on the table for you to see it, to feel it, to either take it gently in your palms or squish it under your feet. No matter how mad you were, it was hard not to be taken aback and awed at his confession, not to feel privileged to be loved by him, by the best man you’ve ever met, a man who could have anyone in this world easily, whose mere presence in a room commands respect and attention, whose mind and words inspired Omaticaya songs, whose body motivated young men and enamoured young women. He was the best there was, and he wanted you. A human, who had none of the qualities praised and admired in the clan and in his world, but all the ones he wanted and hoped for. Because you were his best friend. And you understood him, and you stood by him through thick and thin, in sickness and in health, your whole entire lives. And you loved him, despite his shortcomings, despite being different to you, and you smiled at him in the way that put the sun to shame, and your eyes lit up when looking at him in a way that put the stars out of work. And you found him funny, which few people did - Lo’ak was the funny one, not him, that’s what he has always been told, but not to you, and if he was honest with himself, he only made jokes to hear your laugh and to feel the way you punched him whenever you found something funny. You have loved him all your life, you’ve been in love with him for years, and despite all that stood against you, all that you knew would prevent your own happy ending, despite your mind telling you it’s easier to just walk away, it’s safer for you to just leave and protect your heart, your heart needed to feel his, and feel him. Your heart needed to know what it would be, to be with him knowing what you knew now, knowing for a fact this is real, and it’s everything. 

You circled his wrist with your fingers and your other hand found his hair, that you pushed away from his face. You couldn’t help your smile that felt like the first real one you’ve cracked in months, and the way your heart skipped every other beat taking in his beauty, marvelling at his eyes that were pools of love and lust, of sadness and hope, of anguish and fear. 

“Of course it was real, skxawng.” You said with soft sobs. “It’s all real. It’s always been real. My whole life, you’ve been the only thing that’s been real.” You took off your mask, and closed the distance between you and kissed him, and you both melt into it, feeling the months apart fade away, feeling your mind empty of everything outside of him and his taste and his scent, and the feel of his skin as your palms traced his face and neck, of the way your own skin tingles under his touch. As you put your mask back on, struggling to catch your breath, he reaches for the buttons of your linen shirt and undoes them with surprising gentleness and accuracy, so tiny in his huge hands, and slides the shirt down your arms until it falls on the floor. You shudder a little under the breeze now caressing your bare skin and at the way Neteyam’s thumb flickers over one of your nipples, still covered by a black lace bra. 

“You’re so beautiful. So, so beautiful. I can’t believe I get to love you, I can’t believe you’re mine. And I’m yours, Vol. I’m yours, I’ve always been yours. I’ll always be yours.” 

You said nothing as the seed of doubt didn’t allow you to hope or even consider the future, instead getting lost in the pleasure of his skilled hands on your body, that still knew everything about you, as he laid you down on the ground gently and hovered over you, as his lips drew maps of unknown marvels on your soft skin, so different to his, but still so familiar, and he felt for the first time since his ikran landed on that beach months ago that this place could finally feel like home. He hated how despite memorising every curve, and beauty mark, and scar on your body, there were things that he had to relearn, curves he had to discover as his mouth came to terms with the changes he wasn’t there to witness, wasn’t there to get accustomed to as they happened to you. He pushed the unpleasant thought aside. It just meant he needed to relearn it, and he was happy with that. He was happy to hope he would get to once again know everything about you, and never get the chance to miss you again. 

Despite your silence, the tears still came and went, fogging up your mask listening to him and thinking about how much you’ve wanted this, and how much it will all hurt when it will inevitably succumb into nothing again. He stopped and came back to your level as he heard your quiet sniffles, ears perking up at the sound. 

“Vol…” 

“We shouldn’t be doing this, Neteyam. When you left, it killed me. It took me months to get back together enough to be normal again, if we do this, after everything you’ve said, after what i know, if i lose you, I…”

 

For the first time in his life and in your life, it was Neteyam who removed your mask covering your face and kissed you, and you swore you could have died then and been happy about it, and thank your lucky star you got to go while feeling his lips on yours, but soon enough he covered your face again and caressed your hair gently. 

“We have to do this because of what I said. Because of what you said. Because you are the only woman I’ll ever love, because for all intents and purposes, you are my mate. I want you to be my mate. Because all I’ve dreamt about for years is doing this with you knowing that you loved me too.” His expression changed, and in a serious tone, he continued. “But we won’t do anything you don’t want to, Vol. If you don’t want to do this, just tell me.”

Damn him, you thought bitterly. Damn him for having the ability of making you completely forget and forsake reason or any critical thinking when it came to him, when it came to what he meant to you. Of course you wanted to do this. You wanted nothing more than to do this. And despite how much your mind was screaming in pain at the eventuality of his loss, another part of it was screaming at the possibility of never feeling this feeling, at least once. All you managed was a meek shake of your head, and he smiled, a stupidly handsome smile and you couldn’t help yours from blossoming on your face as well, or the sense of fleeting happiness that enveloped you like a warm blanket. 

Despite whatever feelings of love you now knew were harboured in your convoluted relationship, you and Neteyam very rarely acted like it when you had sex. Your love was mostly tangible in the way you healed him, in the way he listened to your endless chattering about human stuff, in the way he looked at you when you said something that he found particularly endearing or the way you looked for him first whenever something anything of note happened to you. Sex, on the other hand, was a means to an end to you most times, just a way to relief tension and stress, a way to give your body what it needed, what it wanted, with someone who knew how to get it there. It was rough, and teasing, it was pushing your bodies to the extremes and testing your own and each other’s boundaries, but there was no need for that now. Because right now, in the way he touched you, in the way you felt, you knew this was different. You knew it was going to change everything yet again, more so than a mere confession ever could. Because now, knowing what you knew, feeling what you felt, you were making love, and it was an intimacy you’ve never experienced before. 

Back then, no matter how thoroughly he got you ready, no matter how long the foreplay, there was always a sense of urgency. It lasted all night, and there was still urgency to it. There was none of that now, as he explored every ounce of your body in languid, deliberate movements in between sonorous whispers that sounded a lot like adoration and wonderment, that told you how much he loved you, how much he’s missed you, how you were everything to him and listening to it felt a lot like heaven, a lot like comfort, a lot like home. 

He caressed your thighs from your ankles to the hips, and gently removed your shorts and placed them on the ground, next to your shirt. He inhaled sharply taking in your body and how much he missed it, and how much despite all the little changes, you were still very much yourself, and your body was still the one he used to get drunk on every night, that he got to once more tonight. You helped him out by removing your bra and underwear, and you smiled at the way his pupils dilated watching you, his eyes almost black now. You pulled him by his loincloth until he was over you again, and he took no time in attaching himself to you, and his lips to your neck, and his hands to your waist. Your heart was beating loudly as you felt him and he smiled against your chest when his lips felt your quickening pulse, knowing that his was just the same, that this was so much more than it ever was before. He never quite understood while people put so much emphasis on sex, why it was regarded as such an intimate act, especially to humans, but he understood now, as he felt you, as he knew you were in love with each other, that there was no doubt in either of your minds, that this feeling, and what you were doing, was something he could only conceive of doing with you, that this was going to bind you for life, regardless of the bond, regardless of a mating ritual, regardless of anything else. You were his and he was yours, forever. 

You reached over and untied his tewng and threw it with the rest of your clothes and just as it happened every time, you were always taken aback by his length, that somehow was always bigger than you remembered, and in light of the months spent apart, you were genuinely wondering about the logistics of how it was ever going to fit. 

“I know, I’m a little concerned, too.” 

You laughed, relieved that it was a thought shared between you, and doing your best to compose yourself and take a deep breath in, you removed your mask once more with one hand and pulled him towards you with the other, your lips meeting in a wet, messy kiss, filled with euphoric smiles and breathless moans, and for the first time in your life, you felt happy. Even it was just for a little while, just for a short, fleeting moment in time, you were wholly happy, and you had everything you ever wanted. A maskless kiss in the beautiful nature that surrounded you, shared with the man you loved, that you now knew loved you too, and the quiet hope of tomorrow. You didn’t want it to end, even as you felt the world slowly disappear from view, even as he reluctantly put some distance between you and helped you fasten it back onto your face. 

“I never missed your room more than right this second.” 

“Tell me about it.” 

As he slowly entered you, you were reminded of your first time, nearly two years ago now, and how sweet he had been, and how thoughtful and kind, and how he was the same now. He took his time, comforting you at every point, and held you as you cried from the pain of being stretched out after so long, by a length and girth no human normally was supposed to know, and he talked you through it, and you cracked a few jokes in between soft sobs and muffled cries, and you understood then what it felt like to be whole, and mended by a touch or a gaze, as long as they came from the one person in the world that mattered. 

When the pain subsided, it was replaced by ecstasy and the best feeling you’ve ever felt, as the pleasure he was always able to coax out of you was magnified infinitely by his confession, and you knew he felt the same by the way he looked at you, by how isolated tears fell from his eyes and onto your mask, how his smile was radiant and reassured, how he held you and touched you like he’d never let you go again, and God, you hoped he never did. When you came, you came together, and the overwhelming feelings left you a panting, limp mess around him, your mind empty from the high and full from the simple “I love you” that followed.

“I have missed you so much, Vol.” suddenly, he picks you up by your waist and turns you so that you are placed gently on his chest, and you sprawl on his body, with him still deep in you, tightening your arms around him and your head on his chest. You lay there for a long while, while he places kisses on your head and runs his fingers down your back and thighs, taking you in, and you listen to his heartbeat, fast and erratic, so much like your own, so much like the soundtrack to your dreams, the music of your deepest fantasies. 

It took forever for either of you to move at all, just content being in each other’s presence, making up for months of lost love and lost nights. Eventually, you removed your head from where it has found its once-more home, and looked at him. 

“I missed you, too. I can’t believe I’m here. There’s so much I want to tell you.”

And so you did. You spent hours talking, catching up, talking about anything and everything, like you always used to when you were young. You told him about training and how Tarsem is doing a good job as Olo'eyktan, how he wants both you and Spider to be a more involved part of the plan, how he’s got you training and how you feel excited to be more involved in this part of his life that you never quite got to be involved in before. You tell him about every new scar on your body and he does the same, and he goes over the village and the training, and all the new people he’s met and how he likes Tsireya and Rot’xo but not Aonung, he tells you about all the ways Lo’ak is testing their dad’s patience and all the dreams he’s had of you. That takes a while, and you laugh at the sillier ones and cry at the more emotional ones, and cry at the way he was right that you had been selfish, and how much in your attempt to deal with your own heartbreak, you forgot that he was going through his own. You never separated from each other, still hugging, or cuddling, or pressing at least one leg against the other’s, refusing to be more than a couple centimetres apart at a time, if you could help it.

Sleep in half the day just for old times' sake

I won't ask you to wait if you don't ask me to stay

So I'll go back to L.A. and the so-called friends

Who'll write books about me, if I ever make it

And wonder about the only soul who can tell which smiles I'm fakin'

You didn’t talk about the future. About how you knew you would have to leave soon, and what would happen after, you didn’t talk about the hurt or the pain, or the way it would come crashing down in front of you so soon, because right now, it didn’t matter. Because you knew for the first time in your life that all the pain the world could possibly throw at you would be worth this, and if you had to spend your whole life paying for it, you’ve made your peace with that. At least, you got this. And no matter what you lost, you’d always have this. 

In the morning, he took your hand in his and lifted you, and watched as you put your bra and panties back on. He didn’t say anything as you bent for the rest of your clothes, clearly enjoying the view, but stopped you as you were trying to get dressed. 

“Let’s go for a swim. You have a mask, you can breathe underwater better than me.” He chuckled a little. “I want to show you my new life, I need you to be part of it.” 

You were touched by his words. You nodded and dropped the shirt, and removed your hand from his swiftly. Without warning, you started running towards the beach, not looking behind you as you screamed after him. 

“Last one in the water has to do whatever the other one wants.” 

Neteyam rolled his eyes, but watched as you ran away from him, as you always did, wild and free, and he was relieved to realise some things would never change, and this was definitely one, alongside the eternal love he felt for you. He gave you quite the headstart, but eventually started running, and it took very little on his part to catch up to you, and he listened to your screams of annoyance as his feet touched the water first and he dove in, submerging his body and grabbing your waist and pulling you under with him. He allowed you to take the unearthly beauty in, with a shocked expression on your face, your mouth agape as you noticed the coral and all the fish that were circling you curiously. You reached out for them and they immediately dispersed, and he smiled at how it made you jump slightly, his heart swelling with affection and jubilance at this moment that he never thought he’d get, that he would never forget, that he would cherish forever. 

You swam for hours, and for the first time in either of your lives, Neteyam felt grateful for your mask, that allowed you to breathe underwater for extended periods of time, much longer than he could, that allowed you to go with him on an ilu and experience this new feeling that felt so different than an ikran, and yet somehow just as liberating and freeing, and you loved it, and all of a sudden he loved it a little more than he did before. 

"So what do you want?" you say playfully as you resurface, your head in his neck, his body flush against yours as you float aimlessly. He just tilts his head, not understanding your question.

"You beat me in the water. I said that whoever wins gets to tell the other what to do."

Neteyam thought about it for a long while.

"I have everything I want right now." he held you a bit tighter as he answered. "I still can't believe you're here. I can't believe these last few hours have been real. There's nothing else I could ever want."

You sighed against him, and he couldn't tell if it was happy or not, and right now, he didn't want to know.

"You're a better person than I am. I would have asked for eternal servitude."

He chuckled as his lips found your wet hair again.

"You got it, Vol."

And the heart I know I'm breakin' is my own

To leave the warmest bed I've ever known

As you walked back to the village, the dream world you lived in since he brought you to the forest was quickly fading before your eyes, and the worries, and the fear were settling in again, like they always seemed to, and it felt a lot like greeting old friends that never left, just hid a little under a curtain of flowy incandescence, ready to pounce at the slightest opportunity. Neteyam's voice broke through the dark feelings overcoming you, like he always had the power to.

“I know it's scary, thinking of what's next. I know. I'm terrified, but seeing you again, Vol, this night, this morning, it made me realise I can't lose you again. So just stay. I’ll talk to my parents, I’ll talk to the Metkayina. We’ll figure it out. Just please stay.”

His words managed to put your mind as ease almost as much as they shocked you in their spontaneity and craziness. Neteyam wasn't a rash person, or a person who just blurted out big life decisions, such as this one. You laughed awkwardly, trying to defuse the tension you felt in yourself and in the air around you.

“How would that ever work, silly?”

“I don’t know. It will work. Or I’ll come back with you, I’ll come back home. We’ll figure it out, ok? Just please say yes.” 

You roll your eyes at him, but you were grateful. And so, so happy. Because despite everything, this was everything you've ever wanted, and everything you thought you'd never get. You didn't know why you came to Awa'atlu. To yell at him, to check for yourself how he was doing, if he managed to move on easier than you could. To be angry, to get closure, to say goodbye forever. But now, it felt a lot like you were here for a new beginning, for a second chance at love, and how could you ever say no to that? The little nod makes Neteyam beam, and he picks you up and spins you around, once again kissing each-other against the ticking time bomb of your forsaken mask, laughing against his lips and his cheeks as he peppers kisses throughout your whole face, on your eyes, and your cheeks, on your forehead and your nose.

"Thank you."

We could call it even, even though I'm leavin'

And I'll be yours for the weekend, 'tis the damn season

"I'll go check on Kiri. You talk to your parents, ok?"

Neteyam did just that, as he found his dad sitting alone by the edge of the water, cleaning his favourite weapon, the way he liked to do when there was something on his mind, or something weighing heavily on his shoulders. Kiri's condition must have taken a bigger toll on him than Neteyam realised, he thought absentmindedly. He was so nervous, so afraid of what he had to say and how his parents would react. His mating situation has been a matter of great debate in their family for a years now, and so to tell them he's chosen... a human, essentially giving up his chance at feeling the bond, at a child... he knew would be a lot to take in, but he was ready, and he had chosen, and for once in his life, Neteyam would have his way.

"Dad?"

His father was startled as he got pulled out of his musings, another rare occurence.

"Neteyam, it's good you're here. I need to chat to you."

Neteyam took a seat by his dad, eyeing him keenly.

"Is everything alright, you seem off."

"Neteyam..." the former Olo'eyktan winced a little, refusing to meet his son's gaze.

"The situation with the Metkayina is... a little more dire than I told you before. Tonowari told us the clan is not fully willing to accept us, that they don't consider us one of them, even despite the Uturu given by their own Olo'eyktan. He's worried for our future here, and honestly son, so am I. I don't want us to have to leave again, to have to uproot our family once more.

He's... thought of a solution. For it to be an easier transition. A way forward, a way to unite the clans, the power of the Omaticaya, the blood of the Toruk Makto with the ruling family of the reef people. As you know, Tonowari has an older daughter, a warrior. She's said to be one of the most proficient and skilled warriors this tribe's ever seen. They say she's beautiful and smart. Kind and charismatic.

Neteyam... in order for us to stay, you will have to mate with her."

And I’ll be yours for the weekend..

‘tis the damn season.

Taglist: @liluvtojineteyam @pinkpantheris @fanboyluvr @bananafruityawne @zaddyneteyamlovergirl @netemoon @www-interludeshadow-com

[doggone-devil]

How (Not) to Summon a Demon: Chapter 8

...and so it begins, my dear Readers. So it begins. Pairing: Alastor x fem!Reader Warnings: mentions of abusive, r/p/e, exes being absolute assholes, Alastor ready to kill, threats, stalking

Word Count: 2, 525

The day had gone surprisingly well, despite the horrible way it started. You had spent it with Alastor and Veronica, but mostly Alastor since your roommate decided she wanted to go do other things. Alastor had been a wonderful gentleman, holding doors open for you, letting you hold his arm as you walked. He even had you on his right side, away from the road. He was so old fashion it made you swoon, but you fought off the butterflies and kept a cool head.

Now you sat on the hood of your car, waiting for Veronica who said twenty minutes ago that she was just finishing up at a store and would be on her way. The sun was setting, turning the sky orange and red, little stars starting to shine through overhead. You glance at Alastor who stood by the car, his eyes watchful around the parking lot.

"Sorry she's taking so long," you apologize again, holding your head in your hands as you prop your elbows on you knees.

"It's alright. I'm sure she's just having fun," he says. "I hope you did, as well." You can't fight the large smile as it comes.

"Yeah, I did. Did you?" You watch his face carefully, trying to see if you can read him. It's hard, what with his constant smile. Why was that?

"Indeedy! Might be the most fun I've had since 1933!" You giggle, watching him spread his arms out and swirl his cane. He stops and faces you, dipping low. "Was a pleasure, my dear, thank you."

"Don't thank me," you say, crossing your arms. "Veronica was the one who mentioned it." You initially were going to stay in your room today and worry if your ex was coming to kidnap you. Oh no. Now you were thinking about him. Great. Way to ruin your own mood.

Alastor must notice how your shoulders drop as he steps forward. His body is blocking your view of Bourbon Street and you have to crane your neck to see him properly. Damn, you forgot how tall he is. "Everything alright, darling?" he asks. You note the way his smile is lowered, still there but now with pressed lips, like a frown.

"I'm ok," you lie. You don't want to burden him with your troubles. He's a demon, you're sure he won't care. No matter how much fun you had today, no matter what he says or does, he's only here cause you summoned him. Once you make your wish, he's gone. There's no point in letting your heart melt like it's doing now, no point in gasping when he leans close to you. Why is he so close?

"Darling," he says softly, tilting your chin to make you look up at him again. There's no point falling for him, so why is he making it so hard not to? "If there's anything bothering you, you can tell me. Let me help you." Fuck. Yep. You're screwed. Demon or not, your heart drops like an anchor out in the ocean, falling fast and hard to the sea floor.

"I -"

"There you guys are!" Veronica's voice pulls you back and you lean away from Alastor. You swear you see his brows dip in anger, but it's gone as he straightens up.

"About time you show up," you joke but the smile fades when you see Veronica. Her face is pale, like she's seen a ghost, panting as she catches her breath. Had she been running? "What's wrong?" Veronica looks up at you, clearly worried.

"What does your ex look like again?"

No.

No, no, no.

It can't be.

You feel your body growing cold, your hands shaking. "W-What?"

"It could've been someone else," she backtracks, shaking her head and reaching for your phone. You let her take it, fingers too numb to move. She goes through your photos until she stops on the only recent one you had of your ex. "Oh my god."

Your heart drops again, for a different reason this time. Fear crawls up your spine, wrapping itself around your throat.

Please, it can't be.

"Girlie, we need to leave," Veronica says, trying to hand you your phone back. You don't grab it, you can't move. You're stuck, tears forming.

He's here. He's found you. It's all over.

You hear Veronica shout your name, but it's lost to the rush of wind in your ears. You can't hear anything.

"What's wrong?" Alastor asks. Veronica shows him the photo.

"This douchebag is her ex and he's here. He's like, stalked her or some shit!" Veronica explains. "I know it's not my place to say, sorry girlie -" she sends you an apologetic look "- but this asshole abused her. It's why she left him."

Now you hear your name. It's Alastor this time. He has your head in his hands, forcing you to look at him. His eyes are glowing red as he peers into yours. You gasp, the damn breaking as you begin to cry. "H-He can't…H-He's going to hurt me!"

"Not while I'm here, he's not," Alastor states, voice hard as he scoops you into his arms. You let him, too scared to move on your own. Veronica's eyes widen, pointing between the two of you.

"Ok, we're going to revisit this later, but right. Let's leave." She takes your keys and gets in the driver's seat, Alastor placing you in the back with him. He buckles you up as Veronica begins to skid off from the parking lot and back to your apartment.

"Does he know where she lives?" you hear Alastor ask, clearly talking to Veronica.

"Not that I know of?" she answers. "I mean, if he showed up there, chances are it's a yes." She hits the steering wheel with the palm of her hand. "God! Why are men such pigs? No offense."

"None taken," Alastor says, looking back down at you. You're shaking like a leaf, eyes unfocused, no doubt lost in your thoughts. He tugs at your chin again but you can't see him. Not clearly. Everything around  you is buzzing, memories of your past clouding your mind. The arguments, the fights, the bruises. You absently rub at your thighs, the scars throbbing. You feel sick.

"Stop," you whisper but it's unheard. You say it again, louder. "Stop!" Veronica slams on the breaks, a car blaring its horn behind you. You claw your way out of the car just as the bile rises. You puke violently, your stomach lurching in disgust as your mind plagues you with the memories of that night. His hands on your body, on your throat, ignoring your cries and pleas for  him to stop. You had begged him, even praying for death when he wouldn't stop. You puke again, couching. A hand rubs your back, but you can't tell who.

"We need to get her back to the apartment," you hear someone say. "It's not safe out here."

Your name is called, faded and faint but you hear it. Then it's in your head, beckoning you. You feel yourself calming down, the sickness in your stomach ebbing away. You stand on weak legs, wobbling and swaying. The hand on your back comes to rest at your hip, steadying you. It's Alastor.

You whimper and lean into him. He picks you back up in his arms, carrying you back to the car. This time, he doesn't bother to buckle you, keeping you in his arms, tight against his chest. You hold on to him, needing him like a lifeline. Veronica gets back in and continues the drive.

It doesn't take long before you're being carried into the apartment, Veronica deadbolting the door behind you. Alastor takes you to your room, setting you on the bed. He goes to move away but you clasp tightly to his shirt. A silent hint for him to stay. He sits down by your side, his hand grasping yours to hold. You don't want to be alone. You can't.

Veronica joins you two, your phone in her hand. She looks pissed, angrier than earlier as she holds the screen up to you. It's opened to your messages and you see the new number, the letters making you feel sick all over again.

'Thought you could get away?'

You grab the phone, deleting the message instantly, but another appears.

'I'm coming for you, little rabbit.'

You throw the phone against your wall, the screen cracking. It goes off again with another notification, then another. You cover your ears, begging it to stop.

"Geez, this guy can't take a hint!" Veronica says. "Should I call the police?" You shake your head violently.

"No!" you shout. "No cops. Please. It'll only make it worse." You remember the last time you got the cops involved. He had charmed his way out of the dispute so easily and the consequences afterwards had nearly killed you. "No cops."

"Ok, ok. No cops." Veronica shifts by your side, kneeling down. "But, girlie, we gotta do something. I've seen the aftermath of this asshole. It took me a year just to get you out of the house. I'm not letting him ruin you again."

"You don't understand," you whisper, rocking back and forth now. "He won't stop. He won't stop coming for me. Not until I'm dead."

"I doubt he'll kill you. Stalk you? Sure. Threaten you? What abusive ex doesn't?"

"Veronica," you interrupt her. It's time to come clean. To tell her everything. "He almost has." Veronica's eyes widen.

"What are you talking about?"

"John almost killed me," you confess, hating the way his name bites at your tongue. "The last time I tried to escape, he nearly killed me, telling me if I ever left him again, he would finish the job. He even…" you trail off, not able to say out loud the horrendous things he did to you. Instead, you sit upright, turning your torso as you lift your shirt. On your lower back at marks, scars from his doing. You don't show her the others, already feeling like you're going to puke again.

"I didn't know." She lifts her hand, as if to touch them, but stops. You lower your shirt back down.

"I didn't tell you," you say. "I didn't want you to know. It's something I've been trying so hard to forget." You glance now, to Alastor. He's been silent the whole time and when you look at him, you know why. His body is vibrating with anger, his eyes cold and dark. The smile he always has, the one that's come to comfort you, is stretched so thin you're worried his skin will crack.

"Alastor?" you call out. His head snaps to you, the anger dissolving only a little. He forces his smile to relax some, for your sake. "Veronica, could I have some time with Alastor? Alone?" You know she's going to question you about it later, but thankfully, she does as you ask. Once she's out of your room, the door shut, you grab Alastor's hands. His finger lengthen, the skin darkening as claws appear. His human form fades away as the demon he is shines through. You gasp.

His horns are large, doubled in size and nearly reaching your ceiling. His eyes are pitch black save for two tiny, red dots. Blood drips down his chin as his sharp teeth bite into his lip, strained from how tight he clenches his jaw.

You should be horrified, terrified, absolutely appalled by his appearance, but you aren't.

Your hand reaches tenderly up to him, turning him to look at you. "Al," you softly speak his name. He leans into your touch but doesn't speak, not at first. A low, guttural growl resonates from within his chest.

"I won't let him touch you." His voice is deep, static dripping on every word. Your startled when he quickly leans over you, his upper body caging you in as he places his hands on either side of your head, forcing you to lay back. "He can't have you."

"He won't." You keep your voice gentle, letting Alastor know that you trust him.

Trust him?

You can't trust him. He's a demon.

No, you disagree with the voice in your head. He may be a demon but you can trust him.

"You said you'll protect me, right?" you ask, watching as Alastor's body slowly begins to relax. You place a hand on his neck, fingers rubbing at the underside of his hair. His antlers shrink back down, the black of his eyes gone with a blink, those warm, red orbs back to normal. You smile up at him, "There he is."

"Sorry," Alastor breathes out.

"It's ok." You don't feel any fear like you did earlier, only warmth and security. You knew that, no matter what, Alastor was here. He was with you and he wouldn't let anything happen to you. Demon or not, you knew the moment he vowed to protect you, you were in love with him.

"I should," Alastor says, moving away from you. He sits at the end of your bed, putting space between you. It makes your heart ache, but you understand. He doesn't want to scare you.

"Girlie, I'm coming in!" Veronica opens your door. "I brought you some water." You panic for a second, looking to Alastor, but he's back to his human form. How quickly he could do that never ceased to amaze you.

She hands you a glass and you thank you, gulping it down. You hadn't realized your throat was so dry, the cold liquid soothing. You set the glass down and stand up, feeling a renewed strength. You walk over to where your phone laid, bending over to pick it up. The screen lit up, thirty new messages unread. You opened them, anger building as you read each one.

"That does it." You turn on your heel, looking at Veronica and Alastor. "If he wants me, I'm not going down without a fight."

"Hell yeah! That's what I'm talking about!"

"You're not confronting him," Alastor states and you shake your head.

"No, but I am going to lure him into a trap. This bastard thinks he can get away with this, he's got another thing coming." You walk back over to your bed. "Here's the plan. Veronica, you'll be my 911 operator. I'm going to get him to think I'm meeting up with him -"

"No."

"- and then once he shows up, I'm gonna have my phone recording everything. Once he starts acting up, you'll call the police -"

"No."

"- and when they get there, I'll have everything on video. Evidence to prove my case against him."

"That's not happening," Alastor repeats, louder this time.

"Don't worry," you say, "you're going to be my backup. If he gets out of hand, you'll jump in and save me. I'll be fine." Alastor doesn't look like he believes you.

"Ok, so when are we doing this?" Veronica asks. You look at your phone, reading the last message John sent you.

"Tomorrow." You swipe your thumbs over the keyboard, typing out the text and hit send. It doesn't even take a second before he's responding, putting  your plan into action.

"Tomorrow, I'm making this bastard pay."

AN: Whew... this is. Yeah. Till tomorrow, my dear readers.

taglist: @i-like-potatoes12533, @girl-nahh-two, @mcntsee, @projectdreamwalker, @sassmasterxx, @alsemain, @yunimimii, @noraunor, @justneo11, @dragonlover123a, @falsemain, @ephemeralxv, @theshello, @wonderlandangelsposts, @weirdflower2024, @yourworstgf

Masterlist , Ao3

[jenneyquinn]

the psychology of pacifica northwest

c/w: mentions of abuse, generational trauma, me being a yapper

i don't know if this ever has been brought up previously in the gf fandom, but i've always been intrigued by the pacifica and the bell from northwest mansion mystery. sure, it does get mentioned in journal 3 when dipper makes the allusion that her parents treat her like a butler but i think it goes deeper than that...

maybe i might be looking too deep into it, but that bell and how pacifica reacts to it doesn't sit right with me. i used to major in psychology when i started college and took a psychology course in high school, and if there was one thing i remember from the subject was the experiments—specifically, pavlov's classical conditioning (that one with the dogs, the food, and the bell).

if pacifica reacts to the bell in such a fearish state, to the point where she does whatever her parents say as long as they don't ring that bell, it could only mean that they truly were abusive to pacifica for years before the events of the show took place. and as much as i hate to admit this, but the northwests' abuse on pacifica must run deeper than disney would allow.

for instance, if pacifica was exhibiting behaviours her parents found unaccepable to their standards, they would simply punish her straightforwardly. the thing that confuses me is when preston and priscilla brought the bell into the mix—or why they thought it would be a better way of exerting discipline to their daughter (my first instinct is to assume that they would be more sneaky about their abuse, but then again, they're rich, so it's not like they need much of a reason to be this intricate in the first place).

surely, it had to have taken some time, though. perhaps, one day, they tried to introduce the bell while disciplining pacifica, and when she disobeyed further, they would punish her promptly.

to sum it up, pacifica's parents instilled the act of classical conditioning onto their daughter by the following:

unconditioned stimulus (us): the punishment (abuse)

unconditioned response (ur): fear

conditioned stimulus (cs): the bell

conditioned response (cs): fear

so, after thinking about all this, only one thought has stuck with me the entire time when it came to pacifica northwest:

her parents didn't only treat her like a butler, they used pavlovian conditioning to discipline her. they treated her like a dog—some sort of lab subject than a daughter.

it's so messed up.

and to think that these thoughts were running through my head ever since i learned about classical conditioning. now, with the release of the book of bill, and this is not a website, pacifica is more of a tragic character than the show has put onto her.

her character arc begins to lean towards themes of generational trauma and postcolonialism. pacifica feels the weight of her ancestors' wrongdoings heavily (in a subconscious level, of course), but at the same time, she feels helpless—which is as equally as screwed up as how her parents treat her. i mean, pacifica is only like what? twelve? thirteen? obviously too young too feel that much guilt in her subconscious.

i can definitely see her resenting her parents as she grows up, wanting to become as independent from them as possible; not that i can blame her. sure, she was able to overlook her parents' faults in weirdmaggedon, but i don't think she'd be really able to forgive them unless if they themselves put an effort to becoming better people (which i personally believe is a lost cause).

ideally, i hope that pacifica's future is filled with a full sense of self-realization—that she could be absolutely capable of finding self worth beyond money, vanity, and whatever materialism offers. also being married to dipper, but even if she doesn't—i just want this poor girl to be happy, damn it.

[jebbaks]

so. Larssen! he is Certainly a guy!

(aka my wynncraft oc/repurposed oc from another universe who i've occasionally posted scribbles of here)

heres the rest of the scribbles. Mostly old art.

i have like a LOOOOOT to say abt him but basically

hes pretty much a living weapon type character. or rather he regards himself as one. being around other soldiers who fully believe in their cause and a failed attempt to recover his memories (rtp moment), he internalizes this over time and fully believes that the only thing he was born/made for was to fight, to be used as a weapon against the corruption. he can be thrown away at any moment, he can be replaced

this subsequently damages his ability to form relationships with other people; he thinks he has no business doing so. he consciously puts up walls in the beginning but he eventually almost becomes unable to strike up *anything* at all with another person. from rtp onwards everybody he meets, no matter how attached the other becomes — they all become fleeting figures in his mind. BUT he cannot deny that he very much desires connection. the root of the reason why he even internalized the role of the soldier in the first place is so he can fit in better with tasim and aledar!! he just . unfortunately loses sight of this as he progresses. to the point where he cannot even recognize his humanity

so his entire arc is him struggling internally w both sides, the one that is nothing but a soldier and the other that is very much undeniably human. pretty much. Yeah

some other things

secret library enthusiast. despite everything he'll still go out of his way to dig around and find more hidden spots to simply vibe in and forget about the world for a little bit. his personal favorites are the lusuco hidden library and the cinfras grand archive (which. he may or may not have yoinked a book or two from)

perhaps one of such books ft. rusty bartender

music guy!! he frequents mt wynn a bunch bc of the performances there. this is also smth i wanna get into at a later date. all yall gotta know 4 now is that he sings pretty nicely and he is prone to rambling/infodumping about whatever cool obscure ballad hes just heard/read about in the libraries

like dare i say atp he finds it easiest to connect w other ppl thru music and even then he still feels out of place among tasim and aledar after this.

he often frequents the rusty recruit just to talk to the rusty bartender about whatever he's been up to. it started as a one-off thing until he noticed after a while that the bartender actually *does* care about his adventures. so he just kept coming back. on and on and on until one thing led to another and now we're um. here. shoves aside barssen drawings

cat person. massive cat person. he will pet u like u are a cat. he will dump a cat in your lap out of nowhere and start spitting cat facts out of nowhere or something

id yap more but thats for another post

for now thank u for coming to my oc yapping session

[lousypotatoes]

Red Wine

"So we back in the club

With our bodies rockin' from side to side, side-side to side, uh

Thank God the week is done

I feel like a zombie gone back to life, back-back to life~"

DJ Got Us Fallin' in Love - USHER, Pitbull

Previous Next

--

Dear Mom and Dad, I'm doing fine

You guys are on my mind

You asked me what I wanted to be

And I think the answer is plain to see

I wanna be famous

I wanna live close to the sun

So pack your bags 'cause I've already won

Nothing to do, nothing in my way

I'll get there one day

Na Na Na Na Na Na Na Na Na Na

I wanna be

I wanna be

I wanna be famous

I wanna be

I wanna be

I wanna be famous~

--

Y/N was sleeping soundly in her bed, her pajamas snug to her skin, and the warm blanket covering her body.

All was well, until stupid Chris decided to wake everyone with that stupid horn.

Y/N, and all the other girls in the cabin woke with a start, freaked out by the sound.

"Is he seriously going to wake us up this early in the morning?" Y/N groaned.

"I hate him so much," Bridgette sighed, getting down from the top bunk.

"Campers!" Chris shouted from the megaphone. "I want all your butts outside in ten minutes!"

"I'm lighting myself on fire," Y/N mumbled, as she started to get ready for the day.

--

All of the team members stood outside the cabin, waiting for Chris' instructions.

"Morning!" Chris said in a way too chipper voice. "Hope you slept well."

"Hi, Chris, you look really buff in those shorts," Heather said, making Y/N want to gag.

"I know," Chris winked. "Okay, I hope you're all ready, because your next challenge begins in exactly one minute!"

"Um what do you mean in one minute?" Y/N spoke up.

"I don't know if that's enough time to eat breakfast," Owen sheepishly said.

"Oh, you'll get breakfast, Owen," Chris smirked. "Right after you complete your twenty-kilometer run around the lake!"

"Oh, so you're funny now?" Eva remarked, walking up to Chris.

"You know what I think would be funny?" Eva asked, Duncan and Geoff trying to hold her back.

"Eva, please try to control your temper," Y/N reasoned.

"You're enjoying this, aren't you?" Eva snarled at Chris.

"A little," Chris smiled. "You have thirty seconds."

~Confessionals~

"Okay, Eva is actually kinda cool, but seriously she needs to learn how to control herself," Y/N explained. "She's already thrown her suitcase out the window and broken the lock on one of the bathroom doors."

--

"Okay runners!" Chris called out.

Most of the campers were in position to start running. Y/N decided that she was going to run the first half of it, and walk the other half, not wanting to tire herself out too much.

"On your marks, get set, go!"

People like Y/N and Trent immediately began to sprint, but then there were people like Harold and Heather who opted to walk instead.

~Confessionals~

"I don't run," Heather said. "And I definitely don't run in high heeled wedges."

--

After about an hour, Y/N decided to slow down, stopping for a moment to catch her breath.

"Chris should have given us water," Y/N panted. "Holy shit, that was a lot."

"I didn't know you could run like that," Duncan said out of nowhere, making Y/N jump. "Seeing you run makes me feel a little bit self-conscience."

"Duncan!" Y/N exclaimed. "You scared me!"

"My bad, sweetheart," Duncan laughed.

"How the hell did you catch up with me?" Y/N asked, the two of them walking. "I'm like, one of the farthest ahead."

"It's not that hard to run, you know," Duncan playfully scoffed. "Are you calling me fat, Y/N?"

"Sure, whatever you wanna believe," Y/N said, too tired to defend herself.

"Not even gonna try to deny it?" Duncan asked. "I like that in a girl."

"That makes no sense at all," Y/N said.

"Woah, Y/N!" Chris said, driving buy the two of them on a mini motorcycle. "You're the farthest ahead, I'm impressed."

"Uh, thanks?" Y/N said.

"Surprised to see you here, Duncan," Chris said. "Thought you would of been all the way in the back."

"Eat shit, McLain!" Duncan snapped.

"There's no need to get so vulgar," Chris chuckled. "Anyways, if you're not back by dinner time, you don't eat! So you two might want to pick up the pace."

And with that, Chris drove away.

"Ugh, I hate that guy so much," Duncan frowned.

"I think everyone here does," Y/N said. "How many piercings do you have?"

"Why you asking?" Duncan asked.

"Cause I want to tear them all out," Y/N sad bluntly. "You dumbass, I'm bored and I want to get to know you. Is that allowed?"

"Sorry," Duncan laughed. "No one's ever asked me that, it caught me off guard, my bad."

"So?"

"Oh, right," Duncan sheepishly said. "I have one on my lip, two on my both my ears, and one eyebrow."

"So, five in total?"

"Yup,"

"Cool,"

"I guess,"

There was an awkward silence for a moment, the two of the continuing to walk.

"How long have you had your nose ring?" Duncan asked.

"Only a couple of months," Y/N said. "It was my birthday gift from my dad."

"Did you do it yourself?"

"Nah, I was too scared to,"

"Lame,"

"Go fuck yourself,"

--

After about an hour and a half, Duncan and Y/N finally made it to the mess hall.

"Chris," Y/N snapped as they walked in. "If I don't get something to drink, I'm setting this whole island on fire."

"Calm down," Chris said. "Since you two are the first ones here, you guys get the privilege of water."

"Water isn't a privilege, but thanks, I guess," Y/N took a water bottle from Chris and handing one to Duncan.

"It is in Africa," Duncan said.

Y/N hit Duncan over the head with her water bottle.

--

Y/N laid her head down on one of the tables, watching the rest of the campers arrive.

Each one looked more tired than the last, all of them looking like they were going to pass out.

"Clear a table, stat!" Owen suddenly said, barging in.

He was carrying a passed-out Noah and set him down on the other table.

"Oh, God, is he okay?" Y/N asked as Owen started doing CPR on Noah.

"What took you so long?" Courtney whined as Harold arrived. "We just lost the challenge!"

"I think I'm having heart palpitations," Harold said, clutching his chest.

"Hey, wait a minute," Gwen said. "If they lost, that means we won the challenge.

Everyone on the Screaming Gophers started cheering, even Noah who had mysteriously just now woken up.

"Woah there, hold your horses, guys," Chris laughed. "That wasn't the challenge."

"What did you just say?" Gwen asked.

"Who's hungry?" Chris asked as purple curtain opened up, revealing a buffet of delicious food.

Y/N almost burst into tears at the sight of all that food.

There was turkey, mashed potatoes, rolls, gravy, pie, sausage, bacon, and all of Y/N's favorites.

~Confessionals~

"No joke, when I saw that, I was literally about to start bawling," Y/N said. "It was better than other buffet I've been too."

--

~Confessionals~

"And then I saw it!" Owen said. "The buffet table! It was beautiful. There was turkey, and baked beans, and maple syrup. Can I have a minute?"

Owen then started to cry

--

Y/N groaned in pain, clutching her bloated stomach. She was now beginning to regret eating all that food.

But at the same time, she wished she ate more.

"Okay campers!" Chris said with the megaphone. "Time for part two of your challenge!"

"I thought eating was the second part," Owen said, his mouth full.

"What more do you want from us?" Gwen asked.

"Weird goth girl is right," Heather agreed, making Gwen glare at her. "Haven't we been through enough?"

"Um, let me think about that," Chris said. "No!"

"It's time for the Awake-a-thon!"

"The what-a-thon?" Owen asked.

"Don't worry," Chris said. "This is an easy one. The team with the last camper standing wins invincibility."

"So, what you're saying is that the twenty-kilometer run that we did, and all that food we just ate was to make it harder for us to stay awake?" Y/N asked.

"That's right Y/N!" Chris smiled.

"Damn, he's good," Y/N frowned.

"Move! Move! Move!" Chris exclaimed.

"How long do you think it'll be before everyone's out cold?" Duncan said as him and Y/N walked out the mess hall.

"Mhm maybe an hour," Y/N answered, but then she saw Owen already looking like he was about to pass out.

"Maybe less,"

--

Twelve hours later, and Y/N already felt like she was dying.

All of the campers, including her, had dark circles under their eyes.

"Woohoo!" Owen said. "I can do this in my sleep!"

Owen then passed out, falling asleep.

"I knew he was going to be the first one to go," Y/N mumbled.

~Confessionals~

"The Awake-a-thon was definitely the most brutal thing I've ever done in my life," Gwen said

--

"This is the most boring thing I've ever done in my life," Y/N heard Gwen say.

"Could be way worse," Trent yawned.

"Oh yeah?" Gwen asked. "How?"

"Well, I could be stuck here without you to talk to," Trent smiled.

Y/N and Duncan fake gagged.

~Confessionals~

"So, my strategy is to get two other campers to form an alliance with me and take to the final three," Heather smirked. "The only question is who can I find that is either desperate or dumb enough to do whatever I say?"

--

"Duncan," Y/N said. "If I die because of this stupid challenge, promise me you'll play Britney Spears at my funeral."

"You like Britney Spears?" Duncan laughed. "I should of know you'd be into white girl music."

"I don't know whether to be offended or to laugh," Y/N scoffed. "What do you listen to then?"

"Green Day or Avril Lavigne," Duncan yawned.

"You listen to Avril Lavigne?" Y/N laughed.

"Did I say that?" Duncan corrected himself. "Nah, I like uh, blink-182."

"You can't make fun of me for liking Britney when you like Avril," Y/N giggled.

"Fine," Duncan sighed. "I like Avril Lavigne, a lot. But you gotta promise not to tell anyone."

"Your secret's safe with me," Y/N smiled.

"Good,"

"So what's your favorite song from her?"

--

They had just now passed the twenty-four-hour mark, Y/N and Duncan were still awake, but barely.

The one's who fell asleep on the Killer Bass Team were Harold, Bridgette, Katie, and Sadie.

"Favorite snack?" Y/N asked.

"Probably pretzels," Duncan replied. "What about you?"

"Umm F/S," Y/N said.

"Good choice," Duncan nodded. "Uh, favorite drink?"

"Probably-"

Suddenly, they were interrupted by the sound of Tyler screaming.

"What the hell?" Y/N giggled.

"Congratulations campers!" Chris said. "You've made it to the twenty-four-hour mark. Time to take things up a notch!"

Chris took a white sheet off of a big lump, revealing a big pile of books.

"Fairytales," Chris smirked.

"Oh, he's not serious," Gwen frowned.

Y/N had to cover up her mouth to keep from laughing when she saw Chef dressed in a pink sheep suit, holding a harp.

Chris cleared his throat before he started to read.

"Once upon a time," he said very slowly. "There was, inside this boring kingdom, a boring village. And inside this boring, sleepy village, filled with very boring children, who did very boring things...."

"I have died and gone to Hell," Y/N mumbled. "That is the only explanation for this."

"At least we're in Hell together," Duncan smirked.

"You wish," Y/N scoffed.

Out of nowhere, Chef appeared again, but this time, he was wearing a pink ballerina outfit.

Y/N could only stare in shock and in amusement.

He started dancing, throwing sparkles at the campers, which made them yawn.

"What the hell did I sign up for?" Y/N yawned.

--

It had now been officially forty hours since the challenge started.

Y/N didn't even know how she was still awake.

"Uhhh, favorite movie?" she asked.

"Die Hard, all the way," Duncan answered.

"Ugh, of course you like Die Hard," Y/N scoffed.

"What's not to like?" Duncan said. "There's action, and guns, and people die."

"I know, I've seen the movie,"

"What's your favorite movie then since you wanna judge so much, huh?"

"You promise not to laugh?" she yawned.

"Cross my heart and hope to die," he also yawned.

"Beauty and the Beast," Y/N said.

"I knew you would be into the cheesy love stories," Duncan laughed.

"I think it's romantic," Y/N said, hitting Duncan's arm. "And besides, you can't beat the classics."

"Die Hard is a classic,"

"Beauty and the Beast is more of a classic,"

"No it's not,"

"Literally yes it is,"

"No it is-"

Y/N and Duncan's bickering got cut of by the sight of Owen sleep walking.

Now normally, this wouldn't of of bothered them, and they would of went back to bickering over Die Hard and Beauty and the Beast.

But Owen was completely naked.

Y/N's eyed widened as she saw his clothes strewn on the ground a few feet away from her and Duncan.

Y/N and Duncan looked at each other, looks of disbelief and disgust on their face.

"I think I might barf,"

~Confessionals~

"Did I mention that I ate the entire dish of baked beans and maple syrup?" Owen said. "Funny thing about baked beans they make me sleepwalk."

--

Duncan and Y/N were leaning their backs on each other.

She felt like her eyebags were burning themselves into her skin.

"You still awake?" Duncan asked.

"Unfortunately," Y/N said. "It's like I'm so tired that I'm not tired anymore. Does that make sense?"

"I have no idea, sweetheart," Duncan asked. "Favorite TV show?"

"Friends," she replied. "Favorite color?"

"Neon green, obviously,"

"Oh, don't be a smartass,"

"You like it, I know you do,"

"Uh-huh, I like it so much,"

The two of them sat there without saying a word. Y/N looked up at the dark starry sky.

"I can't wait for this challenge to be over," she finally said.

"You and me both," Duncan yawned. "At least I have you to talk to,"

"Keep all that mushy stuff to yourself," Y/N slightly giggled.

"You know what I meant," Duncan scoffed, lightly punching her arm.

--

It had been fifty one hours since the challenge started.

Y/N felt like she was getting ready to go crazy.

"Look at him," she heard Gwen say. "He's like a statue!"

Y/N looked up and saw that Gwen was talking about Justin

He was standing upright and his eyes were completely open, not blinking once.

Y/N raised hey eyebrows in doubt.

"He hasn't moved in over fifty hours!"

Gwen and Trent then started to make noises, hoping that Justin would blink or acknowledge them.

He didn't.

"Amazing, look at the concentration," Gwen said.

Y/N, smelling the bullshit, stood up and walked over to where Justin was. She poked him in the face, and he stirred.

He opened his eyes

Turns out his eyelids were painted.

Gwen gasped, while Y/N smirked in satisfaction.

"His eyelids are painted I saw it!" Eva yelled.

"Get out!" Chris said in disbelief. "Oh, I've got to see this."

Chris walked over to where Justin was standing and started to inspect his face.

"That is so crazy incredible!" Chris exclaimed. "But, you're still out dude."

--

Eighty five hours.

It had been eighty five hours.

Is this what Hell is like?

Is this karma for some of the bad things Y/N did?

Y/N didn't even know if she was alive.

The only people that were awake were Heather, Trent, Gwen, Y/N, Duncan, and Eva.

Y/N sat on a log, watching as Duncan put a sleeping Harold's hand in a cup of warm water.

"Oh, gross it works!" Duncan exclaimed. "Dude peed his pants."

Y/N wanted to laugh, but felt like she didn't have the energy to.

Harold gasped when he woke up, trying to cover himself up.

She looked around and saw everyone who was out of the challenge begin to wake up.

If this were any other circumstance, she would have peed her pants from laughing so hard when she saw Noah cuddling Cody and kissing his earlobe.

"I'd kill for a coffee right now," Gwen yawned.

"Literally same," Y/N smiled, getting a small smile from Gwen in return.

"What is the matter with you people?" Chris sipped on his coffee. "Come on, fall asleep already!"

"You gotta hook me up, man!" Gwen said, pulling on Chris' leg. "I'll even eat the grinds! Anything!"

Chris shook Gwen off him.

"Alright, you six stay with me," Chris said to the people who stayed awake. "The rest of you go and get a shower for Heaven's sake! You stink!"

Y/N rubbed her eyes as all the other campers walked off.

"I didn't want it to come to this. I said that to Chef Hatchet last night," Chris said. "I said 'Chef, I don't want it to come to this, but damn it, these campers are tough' and so I've come up with the most boring sleep inducing activity I can find."

~Confessionals~

"Oh come on, what now?" Gwen said. "Okay you know what? Bring it on!"

--

~Confessionals~"

"There's nothing more boring than trying to stay awake for eighty hours," Y/N grumbled. "Whatever he thinks of is going to be a piece of cake."

--

Chris pulled out a large, thick, red book.

"The history of Canada," he smugly said. "A pop-up book. Chapter one, the beaver. National symbol, and a 'real' fine hat."

Everyone groaned and grumbled.

"Whatever you do, don't fall asleep," Duncan mumbled, sitting next to her as Chris droned on and on about a dumb beaver.

"You too," Y/N whispered, staring at the ground.

--

Now there were only four people left.

Gwen, Trent, Duncan, and Y/N.

Y/N smirked when she saw that Chris was also getting tired.

"Trent!" Gwen said suddenly.

Y/N looked and saw that Trent collapsed on the ground, fast asleep.

"Don't leave me!" she said.

"Time for a bathroom break!" Chris suddenly said. "Any takers?"

"I've held it for this long, I can go all day!"

Duncan looked like he about to burst.

"Yea, but can you hold it for another ten chapters?" Gwen smirked.

"You've got five minutes," Chris said. "As long as you don't mind a little company."

Gwen sighed.

"Y'know, you and Trent would be cute together," Y/N smiled.

"Really? You think so?" Gwen asked.

"Totally,"

"Thanks," Gwen smiled. "You and Duncan look cute together, too."

"Not my type," Y/N scoffed.

"Uh-huh, whatever you tell yourself."

Y/N closed her eyes for a second, only a second, but didn't want to open them back up.

So she didn't.

--

Before she knew it, Y/N was being woken up to vote who she wanted to go home.

Y/N didn't really know who to vote for, so she chose someone random.

She didn't remember who though, since she was on the brink of death.

Everyone on the Killer Bass looked like they wanted to sleep for the next month.

Y/N felt the same way, except she wanted to sleep for the rest of her life.

She sat on a stump next to Duncan. She had to force herself to keep her eyes open, because she knew that if she closed them, even for a second, she was going to collapse.

"You've all cast your votes and made your decision," Chris said. "There are only nine marshmallows on this plate. When I call your name, come up and claim your marshmallow. The camper who does not receive a marshmallow must immediately return to the Dock of Shame, catch the Boat of Losers and leave. And you can never come back. Ever."

"The first marshmallow goes to Y/N,"

Y/N very slowly walked up and claimed her marshmallow.

"Duncan,"

"Bridgette,"

"Courtney,"

"Katie and Sadie,"

Both of the squealed making Y/N cringe.

"Tyler,"

"DJ,"

"Geoff,"

The last two that were left without a marshmallow was Eva and Harold.

"Campers, this is the final marshmallow of the evening," Chris said, staying silent for a few moments for the dramatic effect.

Y/N ate her marshmallow, not really caring in that moment who stayed and who went home.

All she really focused on was how good this marshmallow was.

Were marshmallows always this delicious?

"Harold," Chris finally said.

Harold smiled and claimed his marshmallow.

"Eva, the Dock of Shame awaits,"

"Nice," Eva seethed. "Really nice. Who needs this stupid fucking TV show anyway?"

As Eva stomped away, she stopped and kicked Chris in the shin.

"Ow!" Chris yelled. "Have a good night's sleep tonight, you're all safe."

~Confessionals~

"I feel bad for Eva, but not really," Y/N said. "From what I heard from Bridgette, she was acting totally crazy. You can't act like raging psycho and then get mad at people when they don't forgive you."

--

~Confessionals~

"So Eva was one of their strongest players," Heather smirked. "And now she's gone. I am so running this game."

--

Y/N trudged off back to her bunk, not even bothering to say goodnight to Duncan or anyone else.

She would explain to him another time, but for now, all she really cared about was getting some sleep.

Without putting her pajamas on, she fell asleep as soon as her hit the pillow.

She hoped that the next challenge wasn't as brutal as this one.

--

if i had to stay awake for eighty hours straight, i would probably commit a felony tbh

AINT NO WAY IM STAYIN UP FOR THAT LONG

stay safe and drink lots of water <33

xoxo, Issy

[limehaspassed]

Hello! I love your work so I wanted to request this.

I have afew slasher OBSESSIONS! But at the moment Thomas is my biggest one.

I see many stories of the slashers being so excited for having lil ones. It warms my heart so big VwV

However I've been thinking alot on the scenario of "what if for some reason a child can't be had?"

With Thomas being such a family man... would he no longer want s/o if they can't have a child or maybe don't want them? Would they find another way? Or maybe just be happy with just having eachother for the rest of their lives?

It can be a sad thought, ik. But for ppl that for one reason or another cant and/or don't want lil ones... how would Thoman (or others) respond to this?

I very much need this if you're willing to do it.

Thank you so kindly either way ^w^

Unprecedented

(Thomas x F!Reader)

▬▭▬▭▬▭▬▭▬▭▬▭▬▭▬▭▬▭▬▭▬▭▬▭▬▭▬▭▬▭▬▭▬▭▬▭▬▭▬

In which Thomas Hewitt wants try for a baby, a wish that can never be granted.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Diagnosed Issue

The doctor has diagnosed you with infertility, a fact that ruined any image you had of having a baby.

For a while, you went without really caring, your mind more focused on meeting bills and moving out to Texas to a family home you inherited from your father, who had passed recently.

You had no little time to think about the baby situation until you moved to Texas and met the Hewitt’s boy, Thomas. It was here that you fell in love and ended up moving in, finding a home within the Hewitt family.

For a while you and Thomas live happily together but eventually he begins to ask about a baby, seeing as he is a rather big family guy himself.

The very mention of a baby sets you off and you bawl your eyes out because you did in fact want a baby with Thomas. You wanted your own family with him but you couldn’t have it. The words of the doctor rung louder than ever the day Thomas asked you.

It took you a while to calm down before you could tell Thomas, before you could inform him that you couldn’t have a baby. He was perplexed at the situation at first but after you explained why, he understood.

He was deeply saddened but understanding, rubbing your back softly as you cried about how sorry you were for not being able to conceive.

Yes Thomas was saddened and disheartened but he didn’t hold it against you. You were glad he didn’t hold it against you.

It would take both of you a while to get used to the news but you had each other and that’s all that really matters now.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Want Issue

You had been living with the Hewitt family for a few years now. Within those few years, you’ve grown particularly close to Thomas, the adopted son of Luda.

The two of you had an open and honest relationship, one that you both strived to make as happy and healthy as possible.

Naturally, sense there is so much love and chemistry built up between the two of you, Thomas brings up the idea of having a baby with you.

You’re first instinct is no. You don’t want a baby, you never have because it was simply a burden you didn’t want to carry.

Thomas feels rejected by this, his dream crushed because all he’s ever wanted was a baby that he could raise as his own. Of course, he believes he won’t be the best parent but he wants to try and he’s confused on to why you don’t want one.

For a while, he goes about and tries to convince you but you deny him each time. You eventually start feeling bad but you stand firm.

After a few days of failed convincing, Thomas decides to drop the subject and refuses to mention it anymore. If you try and bring it up to apologize, he’ll shrug it off and physically remove himself from the room.

You don’t know what to do because Thomas also begins distancing himself. You want him to be happy but you don’t want a baby. It causes a rift to form between the two of you.

You ended up finding a baby kitten along the side of the road and adopted it, allowing Thomas to have a “baby” without having an actual child to take care of.

Thomas was iffy about it at first but grew fond of the little cat and quickly grew into an excellent cat father. You were the mother but you allowed Thomas to be the main parental figure, seeing as you never wanted a child in the first place. However, if Tommy asked you to hold the kitten for a while, you wouldn’t object.

After all, the kitten wasn’t so bad.

Thomas became more vocal and close after that, as if a breath of fresh life had washed over him. You were glad he was feeling back to normal and he was smiling again.

[jennathearcher]

Me listening to all three Sleep Token albums for the first time:

Take Me Back To Eden

Chokehold - by far the most lore-oriented song I've heard so far?? lyrically this is just the band's mission statement and it's SO good

The Summoning - THE iconic song :P I had this thought while vibing to it again, the title is SO apt because this is the song that essentially summoned LEGIONS of fans 8D

Granite - this song has me ALL kinds of fucked up?? this was the point where specific lyrics started to have me SCREAMING, like, "you gave me nothing whatsoever but a reason to leave" HELLO??? not to mention "we'd rather be six feet under than be lonely" THAT HITS

Aqua Regia - MMMM THE VIBES THEY ARE IMMACULATE I believe the title translates to something along the lines of "ocean queen" but don't quote me on that XD I genuinely cannot cite just one lyric that makes me feral IT'S THE WHOLE SONG

Vore - AS A MONSTERFUCKER I AM FEELING VERY SEEN IN THE CLUB RIGHT NOW. TIS IS A MONSTERFUCKER ANTHEM. VESSEL. VESSEL P L E A S E.

Ascensionism - I was told this song would make me cry I WASN'T PREPARED FOR HOW REAL THAT WOULD BE. "Make it real, cause anything's better than the way I feel right now" HOOOOOOOO. This entire song is POETRY.

Are You Really Okay? - I....have A LOT of feelings about this song. Holy shit. From Vessel's lips straight to the ears of my soul. God DAMN.

The Apparition - and now we have the self-shipping anthem :P VESSEL XD "Why are you never real" !!!!!! "Just let me go or take me with you" !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

DYWTYLM - lowkey I always love when artists genuinely abbreviate song titles like this it's really cute and stylish :P THIS SONG IS S O CUTE??? OH MY GOD the sheer amount of genres this band covers is AMAZING; plus this is another song where the lyrics are DEEPLY SAD but the beat though :P

Rain - from what I'm aware of this might be an underrated song??? instant fave from me 8D IT'S SO ROMANTIC!!! "the vicious cycle was over the moment you smiled at me" I'M SO!!!!!! SOFT!!!!!!

Take Me Back To Eden - TRUE TO ITS NAME THIS SONG IS A RELIGIOUS EXPERIENCE. but also among a million incredible lyrics "I'll take a pound of your flesh before you take a piece of my paystub" has me CHEWING THE BARS OF MY ENCLOSURE OH MY G O D

Euclid - I have deduced that ST is the masters of ending an album with the most unexpectedly BEAUTIFUL song OH MY GOD. All the nods of their previous songs?? So much TECHNOLOGICAL imagery all across this album too tbh??? "So if your wings won't find you heaven I'll bring it down like an ancient bygone" SCREAMING!!!! and of course "the night belongs to you" I AM EATING THIS

it is at this point I begin to swiftly realize I am listening to this in reverse order which makes a lot of things hit different but REGARDLESS :P WE PRESS ON

This Place Will Become Your Tomb

Atlantic - not only is this song ABSOLUTELY BEAUTIFUL but the lyrics are just.....w o o f. it hits harder the more you think about it.

Hypnosis - I can't get over how this song is ACTUALLY hypnotizing to listen to :P

Mine - ONCE AGAIN TRACK THREE IS WHERE I START CLIMBING THE WALLS XD both of the other albums have direct lyrical connections to this song, and it's also just HOOOOO INTENSE IN THE BEST KIND OF WAY 8D plus the "wasted years" lyric got me thinking about Phantom of the Opera which y'know feels appropriate :P

Like That - this song reminds me of Granite with just how VISCERAL the feelings are when connected to a toxic relationship??

The Love You Want - biased cause I've had this song on repeat but HOOOOO!!!!!! "TOO MANY SWALLOWED KEYS WILL MAKE YOU BLEED INTERNALLY SOMEDAY"!!!!! "MAYBE YOU BELIEVE THAT IN THE END YOU WILL BE BETTER OFF THAT WAY"!!!!!!

Fall For Me - *incomprehensible shrieking* "WON'T YOU FALL FOR ME, FROM REALITY" *somersaults out of window* "MY INSECURITIES SURROUND ME LIKE LIONS IN THE DEN" *puts head through wall*

Alkaline - I am now intimately familiar with the emotions of the girl absolutely losing her shit in the background of the concert video in which I first heard this song XD Another song with one of those verses where every single line is ABSOLUTE POETRY and also :P HORNY. HORNY HORNY ENERGY. VESSEL YOU MENACE I LOVE YOU.

Distraction - at this point I am all but tearing my hair out over how ROMANTIC this is and how it can perfectly encapsulate such a simple idea and make it absolutely HEART-ACHING?????

Descending - ohhhhhh myyyyYYYYYY GOD!!!!!! "YOU COME CRAWLING BACK TO ME BUT I'M ALREADY UNDERGROUND" !!!!!! "AND WE ALL KNOW THAT TALK IS CHEAP SO COME ON AND SAVE ME NOW" !!!!!!!!!!!!!! "AND YOU WONDER WHAT I BELIEVE BUT YOU DON'T WANNA BE AROUND" "SO WHAT WOULD YOU DO FOR ME?" !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Telomeres - another song I fell in love with on the first listen :P much like Rain it's just so DEEPLY ROMANTIC AND EMOTIONAL??? "I know as you collapse into me this is the start of something" MMMMMMMMMMMM

High Water - I am OBSESSED with this song lyrically, just "it seems my hell is your high water" that's SO!!!! GOOD!!!! but also just the absolute gutpunches all throughout this song; "you are still a perfect reminder of what all these scars on my arms are for" !!!! "I know you still bear the weight of your own existence and you'll never bear the weight of two" I'M SO?!?!?!?

Missing Limbs - I legit GASPED when the soft guitar started???? and the last verse just absolutely destroyed me HOO. The whole song has Bon Iver vibes but better tbh

Sundowning

The Night Does Not Belong To God - it was here when I started to really lose my shit over all the lyrical parallels across the three albums :P SO GIVE ME THE NIGHT!!!!!

The Offering - "YOU'VE GOT DIAMONDS FOR TEETH MY LOVE, SO TAKE A BITE" OHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH MY GOD!!!!!!!!!

Levitate - THIS IS THE ONE of course I find a song that contains the lyric "your body is mostly blood" to be HELLA ROMANTIC :P also very apt considering how ST's music makes me feel like I'm the one levitating XD Saint Maud up in this bitch ahem

Dark Signs - ANOTHER INSTANT FAVE 8D the fucking bassline!! EVERY SINGLE LYRIC HOOOOOO JUST THE PICTURE IT PAINTS!!! also "tear off my arms" sounds like a direct parallel to Missing Limbs don't mind me!!!

Higher - "I AM GRANTING YOU MORE THAN THE DEBT THAT I OWE" *sound of underwater screaming sounds* also idk if it's been said but Vessel lowkey reminds me of Corpse Husband in a lot of ways; I love my faceless anxious endlessly talented cryptid boys!!!

Take Aim - this one had my Archer sensibilities making the eyes emoji :P personally this one really makes me think of the Greek myth of Artemis and Orion but THAT'S JUST ME XD

Give - AND NOW WE HAVE A DARK ROMANCE ANTHEM MMMMMMM DELICIOUS. THIS IS MY ENTIRE AESTHETIC 8D

Gods - THIS SONG IS SO A N G R Y I LOVE IT SO MUCH!!!!! but also "you want to watch me beg cause I beg so well" VESSEL PLEASE :P

Sugar - PURE HORNY ENERGY. B O N K, TO HORNY JAIL WITH YOU. NONE OF THESE THOUGHTS ARE IN THE BIBLE.

Say That You Will - GOOD LORD I DIDN'T THINK IT WAS POSSIBLE BUT WE HAVE GOTTEN EVEN MORE HORNY literally "is that a knife in your pocket or are you just happy to see me" but way more poetic than that XD

Drag Me Under - Once again, the vibes, they are IMMACULATE 8D have I mentioned how much I love all the religious imagery in ST's music because ohhhhhh my god

Blood Sport - I knew I was gonna love this song after seeing part of the live performance of it from last weekend's show <3 This song is absolutely BEAUTIFUL 8D I know Vessel cried while performing it live but I was NOT expecting the actual song to end with him crying too??? I WANT TO HUG THIS WEIRD LITTLE CREATURE MAN SO MUCH!!!!!

So far this is the extent of my journey but I'm definitely going to check out their earlier singles and EPs soon as well <3 I have also listened to the covers they did as well and I need more Vessel doing acoustic covers in my life PLEASE AND THANK YOU :P

[souglias]

I see there's still a slot left for foul legacy: raging tide so I hope I'm not too late to request something 👀

Three things about me:

As I said in my other ask, I love to draw and write and I try to do that as much as I can during my free time between hw and class. Although it's been much harder to find time during college and I am often plagued with art/ writer's block 😔

I'm a bio major and I have no problem with handling bugs and other little critters that most people get queasy about. Once you've dissected sheep brains and whole squids, grabbing a spider isn't such a big deal lol

It generally takes me a while to start seeing someone as a close friend rather than a friendly acquaintance that I sometimes see in class. In the same vein it also takes me a while to begin considering someone as a possible romantic partner bc I only start to feel attraction after I've known them for a while and established an emotional connection

I'm a big fan of the star student/delinquent trope and even though I'm not really the type that only cares about studying, I do generally prioritize that over other things

Thank you in advance!! I can't wait to see the rest of this event unfold :D

The Delinquent [Childe]

c/w: mentions and implications of rumours, implication of bad school culture, Biology dissection (not described in detail)

Note: Hello!! I'm so so sorry this fic took so long! I wasn't particularly inspired for this fic so I was holding it off, then school came in the way for quite a bit. I don't know much about dissections, but I did a quick Google search and I hope I've written it such that it's not too difficult to believe. I hope that you enjoy this!

word count: 1.5k

--

Sun and moon. Both you and Childe live worlds apart. The two of you are only in each other’s orbit, seeing each other from a distance. The closest that you’ll ever get is being a few seats away in biology class. However, even though you only share one class with him, you know him all too well.

Childe is the infamous sporty kid in school. He’s also one who often wins academic competitions for the school. The student body doesn’t necessarily dislike him either. In fact, the girls adore him. They think that he’s hot and charming. But outside of his friend group, everyone is mostly too intimidated by his aura to approach him. 

You can also always count on Childe to constantly talk back to teachers and staff. Now and then, you would catch him breaking school rules by exploiting their loopholes. The school hasn’t expelled him, given that he’s not causing harm or trouble to anyone. On top of that, he largely excels in many areas. Though… There are rumours of him beating other students up. But no one has actually seen him do so.

You, on the other hand, keep to your group of friends. That’s how you decided you were going to spend the rest of your school life. Comfortable with a group of friends that you cherish deeply, out of the spotlight. 

That is until Childe decides to collide into your world for a reason you cannot bring yourself to turn down. Okay, you could have, but you don't dare to.

As a short breather from studying in the library, you doodle a little. Childe walks up to your side while you’re doing so. 

With a volume lower than usual, he greets you. “Hey, [name]- Oh these look pretty cute.”

You dropped your pencil on your notebook, taken aback that the Childe is talking to you. 

“What’s up, Childe?” you ask as your hand subtly shifts above the doodles in your notebook. Honestly, you want nothing to do with him. But, at the same time, you are courteous enough not to shut someone out the first time they speak to you.

He smiles sheepishly as he requests, “Sorry to bother you, but could you give me a demonstration on the dissection of a sheep’s brain?”

You only blink at him in response. You asked him to repeat, making sure you didn’t mishear him. Assuming you couldn’t hear him, he raises his volume. Only slightly, so as not to disturb other students. 

“I need some help on dissecting a sheep’s brain and I’d like you to show me a demonstration. Would that be okay for you?”

Fumbling over your words a little, you agree to help him with his dissection. “Great! Thank you so much, [name]. Will tomorrow after our biology lesson be good?”

“Yeah, sure…”

With that, he walks off with a slight skip in his steps. But you, on the other hand, are highly preoccupied with your thoughts. You think you got a little too nervous around him. They say you shouldn’t show fear in front of what you are afraid of. Wait, since when were you afraid of him?

On top of that worry, you aren’t sure if you should be proud that Childe thinks highly enough of you to ask you for help, or if you should be concerned that you are now responsible for tutoring the infamous school delinquent instead. 

Do you really know the dissection like the back of your hand? What if he asks you about the details that you've thrown to the back of your mind? As an extra precaution, you start to relook at your notes on the dissection. Before you sleep at night, you give your notes one last read too.

The next day, you realise during lessons that you forgot to check if there was a supervising teacher present after school. For students to use the laboratory after school, there is a rule stating that a teacher has to be present. Childe probably wouldn’t heed that rule in normal circumstances. But since your last lesson is Biology in the laboratory with him, your teacher would definitely know both of you are staying back. If there was no one around, your teacher wouldn’t permit you two to use the room and kick the both of you out. 

So, you pray. You pray that there wouldn’t be any supervising teacher, so you’d get to slip out on Childe. But unfortunately, when class ends, you find out that your teacher is on duty today.

Sighing internally, you resign yourself to helping Childe. As you prepare your workbench, you catch your teacher's eyes darting between the two of you. Likely surprised that both of you speak to each other, you suppose. You'd be surprised too.

When all the preparation is done, you try to hide your disappointment and ask, “So, how do you want me to teach this to you?” 

“You can do a step-by-step demonstration, then I’ll try to follow along.”

After every step, you check on the steps that he executes. While doing so, you notice how slender his hands are and the little faded scars on them. 

“[Name]? We can continue.”

You snap out of your daze and mutter an apology, continuing the dissection. At some point, you stop him. “Hold on, you’re about to cut the wrong part.”

He shifts his gaze over to your scalpel, trying to assess the exact point to cut. Before he does anything, you move over to his side as you always do when you teach your friends. You wrap your hand around his that holds the scalpel and you guide his hand.

Childe becomes momentarily distracted by your touch on his. He tries to ignore the feeling of his skin tingling and regain his focus. 

(But it is for nought because all he can think of is how cool you are for being so good at Biology. Heck, not just Biology, but other subjects too. Words of your consistently stellar grades don’t escape him.)

You only realise the proximity between the two of you after you let go of his hand. Taking a step back, your leg bumps into the stool. You stumble for a bit. Childe’s hand reaches out to your arm and it hovers right above your skin, ready to catch you. But you don’t fall and a few moments pass.

Inside, you beat yourself up a little for almost falling onto the ground in front of someone you’ve barely spoken to before. You straighten yourself and Childe withdraws his hand back to his side. 

You clear your throat in an attempt to dissipate the tension in the air. “There’s only one more step left to go. I can show that to you and if you’re good, we can pack up.”

You note how hot your face feels and hope he doesn’t tell this to his friend circle. You don’t particularly like them, given the amount of drama they attract. 

You try to concentrate, though the incident earlier remains at the front of your mind. Soon, he ends the procedure without a hitch, so you assume that you’ve taught him the right step despite your lack of focus. With that, both of you clean up the workbench. 

Childe finishes cleaning up faster than you. He always packs up quickly after class, and you chalk up his speed to his desire to leave class early. You think he’s about to leave when he comes over to help you. When he does, he thanks you.

“Thanks for the tutoring session, [name].”

A few seconds of silence lapse. You’re not sure if you should thank him for helping you. But before you say anything, he asks, “Say… could I ask you for more help next time? I struggle quite a bit with Biology.”

Immediately, you nod. It'll just be more tutoring sessions that'll benefit you too. Though, you ask, “Don’t you have friends who do Biology?”

Childe’s face sours a little, a smile still plastered on his face. He whispers, “Let’s just say that while I do hang out with them, I don’t like to stay around them more than I need to.”

Your eyes widen slightly. The two of you have more in common than you thought.

As the two of you walk down the hallways to the exit, he exchanges contacts with you. Childe does a tiny fist pump in the air. “Nice! Now, we can easily arrange study sessions!”

He turns to look at you and offers, “If you need anything too, you can always ask me!”

Childe flashes you a smile. He’s really not so bad.

When the two of you part ways at the school gate, you wave to him. He returns one with that annoyingly vibrant smile of his. But, maybe you could get used to this.

Only then do you realise, oh, you are in so much danger. The moon is reaching its orbit closest to the sun now.

--

All likes and reblogs are appreciated! Thank you <3

[bottomvalerius]

random thoughts I've been rotating in my brain regarding Sam and Rohan's relationship progression (and more generally how he approaches nobility in Prakra as a whole)

post ruined-wedding, Sam immediately takes to the sea, and it's one of his first travel excursions "solo" ie without Mara (he had Neeja and Imelda w/ him, and it is also one of the last times Neeja travels with him lol girl wants to be home where she's in control)

This is also the trip where Sam collars Neeja officially (ie a "wedding" on his own terms :3c)

Rohan attempts to chase after him but ultimately gives up and returns home in defeat. he is quickly removed from the isles in general

Sam returns home to the news that Rohan has already replaced him with a much younger nobleman (steering into problematique territory lol), which sends Sam into a bit of a depression

Sam and Rohan also have a bit of an age gap, and he met Rohan when he was younger--the overall situation leaves a very sour taste in his mouth, and he is insecure that he has a younger replacement but is ashamed at not being able to see the type of person Rohan was earlier

has to grapple with the consequences of his actions re: losing his one connection to royal circles (and losing another person who knew Sam when Mara was alive--and has A LOT of dirt on him that can, in fact, get him killed lol)

Insert: Namar✨! Literally and narratively speaking! :D

Absolutely GAGGED over Sam leaving Rohan at the altar; he knows Nasrin is interested in Sam, but she hasn't fully revealed why that is. decides to engage in the art of "fucking around and finding out"

Namar pursues Sam, taking advantage of the fact that Sam literally cannot put together the names and faces of people and just thinks Namar is someone working in the palace

Namar is much better at assisting Sam with navigating higher society, and instead of restricting him, encourages him to shake things up when they can both afford to

Sam genuinely begins having a good time and really fully starts living his nobleman fantasy lmao His Whoring starts up in full swing, he's going to more exclusive parties, making his lasting connections, etc etc etc (when he was with Rohan, he was in a much darker place and while he was partying a lot, it was not Fun)

In the middle of this, he obviously is made aware that Narmar is the queen's consort lmao, but he winds up using that to his advantage to get back at Rohan

Absolutely continues to weaponize his closeness to Namar and Nasrin and will constantly rub it into Rohan's face whenever he can. it was honestly a reason why Sam got over himself and started his relationship with Nasrin.

"Mara is dead. Rohan is a bastard. I want to have nice things. And I want him to cry about it. :)"

Rohan is obviously vexed by all of this and continues to try to cause Sam problems when he can. has absolutely hired assassins, leaked information to rivals of Mara that her guard dog is still alive, etc. etc. but god damn does that man stay living LMAO (Neeja is 90% of the reason--she's got shooters on call at all times, and Sam has yet to find himself in a situation he literally can't just fuck and fight his way out of LMFAO)

Rohan also clearly still has feelings for Sam, and the two do hate fuck often. funnily enough, Sam also has a very peaceful relationship with Rohan's husband; Rohan's husband likes Sam more than Rohan himself lmfao

[enricocavillo]

#7

After meeting Kat Vicious and engaging in an excessively exposure, ending-career contract for being terribly advised, Enrico faced a psychological Tsunami. This last deal was the beginning of a bloodshed.

Despite the bad publicity, Enrico chose to continue boosting his image with Kat, afraid of the gay rumours and in respect for her integrity (Good or bad, it didn't make a difference at this point). He unconsciously inflicted himself suffering for his idiocy.

Capone (Nervous and ashamed for messing up and having to pass the task of damage control to a narcissist): Enrico, don't bother. J. here is a tough manager and has great strategies. They are not always moral, but, helpful.

Enrico (With tears in his eyes, almost crying like a baby): What do you mean by "not always moral"? All I've ever wanted was people to love me.

J.: That's how we are going to reverse the situation on your behalf. The goal here, is to save your asses and deviate the attention.

Enrico (A little behind in thinking): How can we reverse that? My spectators hate me!

J.: That's what we want. Your team made a huge mistake (Looking at Capone). Now, we clean the mess without making you all accountable. That's my job, cleaning the mess of other actors' managers (Looking at Capone, again).

J.: By teasing your spectators, we make them mad and responsible for this mess and you, will be THE VICTIM! Believe me! Your toxic spectators will love you again!

Enrico (Still slow in reasoning): I still don't understand how making them mad would help. They will eat me alive!

J.: You are already being seen as a hypocrite. You can't be accountable, for it would show it was a management mistake and a fake plot. We can't allow that, for it would destroy the reputation of Capone, the womanizer image you built and people would start saying you are gay, which isn't a very nice way to be seen in this industry and that would be your end as an actor in Dollywood.

J.: Making them react with rage will allow us to reinforce the straight stereotype and blame them for the bad publicity that was, actually, caused by your team's mistakes, your lack of discernment and fear of showing your truth. There's no other way. You can't show weakness. Otherwise, they will destroy you. You will have to play along so we can destroy them. See it as a virtual game.

Enrico (Completely lost and surrendered): And how are we going to do that?

J.: By keeping Vicious as your PR (Enrico didn't seem to enjoy that plan very much, but....) and putting one spectator against the other. Then, a part will do our job and sell you as a victim, while we reinforce all that with fake spectator pages to manipulate the rest.

J.: We will tease your spectators with this idea, until exhaustion, accusing them of jealousy, hitting hard, until they are tired of it and give up. Meanwhile, some will help us convince others you were the victim of bad management and an unknown wannabe, gulable for fame.

Enrico: But, that's insane, immoral, disrespectful! Did Kat agree to that?

J.: Are you kidding? That's all she wants! She's an exhibitionist. (Enrico continues silent) Do you prefer to have this plot revealed and to be exposed as a gay escort? (Enrico, completely tormented, looks at J, while opening his arms in the air as asking the Universe for an answer, and says nothing).

J.: (Understanding Enrico's reaction as a "yes") Hum! That's what I thought. (Smiling and pointing to Vicious) It won't be that bad. You will get free b**w j*b as a plus.

Kat: (Dismissing ironically, masking and happy to see the plan she had in mind, worked): Oh, Enrico! I feel so sorry for the repercussion you had with your latest self promotion (Cynically smiling). But, don't worry. I'm gonna help you (Says her, while Enrico, silently and pathetically, just stands there in agreement, as the perfect duck).

[zaruba-needslove]

Slight meta post since I have many thought... which many times I've tried to include in my fics and end up getting derailed or sometimes i din evet get a chance to include.

But nope.... not gonna talk about Kei-chan or Ace cos ppl do seem like to find faults on Kei too much or think that Ace would never do anything wrong or be less than perfect...

So buffbutt gonna be my usual target.... heh?

Anyway...

The series NEVER explained or try to justify WHY buffass was intentionally being such a sorebutt during the earlier games. Like yeah he hated the asses who caused Tohru's death--but wait?

Something that I occasionally think but sometimes just skip, was that I've always assume that assbutt KNEW exactly HOW Tohru died aka they had their buckles stolen after being ganged up and later attacked by Jyamato... thus explain away buffass's hate on the players, but DID assbuff really WITNESS all that? What if the only thing they knew/saw was just Tohru collapsing and 'died'?

Since we were never shown the actual beginning of the first onscreen DGP, it makes me wonder HOW buffass's actual first entry look like? Would it be the same as Keiwa's first hour at his first game...OR WORSE? Like someone would try to argue that eh.... buffass and Tohru used to be delinquents so it shouldn't be hard fighting the Jyamato the first time... but are average HUMAN trash comparable to a Jyamato? Weapons aside, can you easily get killed when you get punched by a gangster? Would've needed a lot a punches for that tho. But a Jyamato... one strike would've been enough. Early buffass ass would've performed as mediocre as Keiwa and Neon have been (yet look at that shit acting so snob saying all the noobs gon get pwned so bad). Also you'd think someone who cares a lot about Tohru wouldn't act so ass to someone who're also like Tohru.... right? He shouldn't act the same way as the asses that shit on Tohru... right? No?

Considering what happened to Tohru, it won't be weird to assume that Buffass joined the game because of that. But you know what? Assuming the bool's Desire card wish had always been the same... I had to REALLY question that guy's motive. His first DGP happening not long after he witnessed Tohru supposedly died... yet Butt's wish was to "Crush all Kamen Rider"? And not... trying to find out the truth about what happen to Tohru? Does that mean from the very start, he already believed that Tohru died? Really?

I mean...

So far, in ANY DGP rider deaths... aside from the red pixels thingie to differentiate the blue pixalating effects when players gets retired, have any players being shown that they've breathe their last breath when their core iD breaks BEFORE they got zapped away? Could anyone be sure that 'killed' players really got killed fr instead of being hidden away at some 'storage' facility?*

So back to buffass, after being told that they can make ANY wish come true if they can survive and win the game... have they never thought about wishing to GET Tohru back? No? Why? I mean until assbuff got shipped to Jyama Garden, that guy din act like he knows for sure that Tohru's Dead dead. Eh?

Suddenly I feel so bad for Tohru lol despite acting like he can't live w/out his friend by his side assbutt never considered wanting to 'revive' Tohru.

That aside, another thing that's been bothering me (and reason why I never bought that whole argument about 'assbutt really do care about other people's happiness' shit) was WHY that assbuff kept up this image of an asshole player that only care about themselves? I mean that butt was supposed to 'hate' those 'bad' players who should be responsible for causing Tohru's death (hence the animosity to Ace)... yet he's pretending to be the same like those bad players? That's weird. Like even if it's just to protect themselves , the behaviour the butt show was overdoing it. Even if they were trying to copy Ace's attitude like how rebellious teenagers trying to act like gangsters to appear tough, that guy never displayed any sign that their 'true' selves was really THAT 'caring' in the first place. Beroba was on point about that, esp whenever Buff try to overzealously act very kindly or caring... it felt more like Butt was trying to 'cosplay' as Keiwa. Not because of his own supposed 'true' self/personality, but because that was what butt thinks a kind/good person was supposed to be.... someone like Keiwa. So by butt's logic... to be a nice person is to act like Keiwa.

So yeah.... i dunno what people see in that guy. Butt felt so much a fraud as a fraud could be. Seeing that guy act 'kind' and not asshole was weird. Wouldn't YOU feel weird out as well? If someone who's usually yandere/tsundere suddenly went deredere on you, would you be wary of them?

So I don't really like that assbutt... though yeah, if he appeared in my fics I'll try to give explanation on why he behave like an ass... but aside from that, i can't stand that boofaw.

Buffa is such a fraud.

-----

*like before it's stated crystal clear that the defeated players were really killed and get recycled as plantfood, I used to assume that the defeated players were just stowed away/hidden from the public either physically or digitally (like how the Tree of Knowledge stored the Jyama parasite victims). cos I had these thoughts during PunkJack SP where Win saw a few very injured players being in pain yet they still looked VERY alive. So I used to think that defeated players din really die as were told before... that maybe they're just in comatose state or being put to suspended animation state or smth. So if it's like that, for the DGP to grant Keiwa's wish to 'revive' the defeated players... it shouldn't be hard to achieve that, since the killed players never really died. but it din end up like that.

** yanno i kept referring to Buff as something butt-related I may end up liking that butt lol, but nah... it'll just be Moku-chan's butt I'm growing fond of. Not that Ass TM. And I still won't ship that guy with Ace. Or Keiwa. At most it'll with Daichi or Knight or even Archimedel and Beroba 😃

*** before people tryna argue about why won't butt wish for Tohru's revival... isn't that the most likely thing people who have lost a dearest person would wish first, if someone ANYONE tryna offer a chance to win an impossible wish and it can be anything, wouldn't reviving their loved ones be the first thing they want? Also I think someone in the Desire Royale was in that position (or maybe i'm misremembering)

[lulumusicwaterbear]

Term 1 19/09-23/09/22

This week I started in the songwriting course however I felt a lot of pressure and stress around it due to the work load and the talent around me so I decided to swap to vocals performance so I can work on my songwriting in my own time and one on one's so I still enjoy it instead of forcing it and starting to lose inspiration.

Term 1 26/09-30/09/22

Performance:

This week we focused on the song Roxanne by The Police. When watching back their grammy performance I saw that although they didn't necessarily move around a lot on stage they made up for it with good energy and stage presence. For example in the beginning the drummer puts his hands in the air during the pause to hype up the audience more and the singer puts his hand to his ear at one point to encourage the audience to sing along. A lot of the performance is different to the original track as well to keep it interesting for the audience. This will come in handy as the beginning of my chosen summative song is quite slow and I'll need to perform throughout. The second verse in the performance they change the groove of the song and add reverb / delay to the vocals making it more atmospheric and making the chorus more effective. I believe I could take inspiration from this for my final performance in order to show I can perform wether the song is excitable and fast or if the song has a slower groove and a more calming instrumental. I can also take this as inspiration for my final project as they show you can perform Roxanne in two different styles which is the brief for the assignment and I can try changing the groove of my choice of song to give it a different feel. During the showing of Roxanne I found performing really hard for two big reasons. The first was it was my first time singing to my peers and I got really nervous in my own head knowing if I messed up I would see these people everyday but now I've performed in front of them for the first time I'm hoping I can push through that now. The second reason was it's a different stage compared to what I'm used to and because of the amount of people on stage and lack of space I was really worried about bumping into people or falling over wires. Now I have experience performing on the stage I can now accommodate to that in rehearsals and also can practice performing more in one place with arm movements, body language and facial expressions similar to how The Police perform. My live performance will also be on the same stage hopefully so I can plan how I'll work around the wires before hand and how I'll stage the band.

Technique:

The Police's singer, Sting, has in my opinion a very strange singing technique. Despite singing mostly in his higher range and singing quite light he doesn't use a lot of breath which is something I would like to work on personally so I researched different ways to work on singing with less breath. One way to practice this is to practice singing with my diaphragm more. I can do this by correcting my posture and putting my hand on my stomach whilst singing to make sure I don't accidentally switch how I'm breathing. I saw another technique saying to practice singing whilst holding your nose as for me personally a lot of breath comes out through my nose whilst I'm singing. I found this one helped a small amount however while it was a temporary fix it wasn't correcting how I sing. One more technique I found was panting as a a warm up exercise. It can start off as sighing and then turn into more vocal noises but it can help you physically feel the diaphragm working and help you get the correct amount of breath in whilst singing. During our performance of Roxanne I did find I strained at the start of the song and was slightly pitchy because I got in my head about getting it right causing me to slightly forget the starting note and melody but once I gained my confidence back I was ok for the rest of the song. I need to keep this in mind for my summative assignment and need to focus on myself rather than what can go wrong. In order to fix my lack of stamina on the high notes I decided to make the chorus lower halfway though the final chorus in order to feel more comfortable when singing but also to make the last chorus more interesting as it can feel repetitive after a while. In my chosen summative song the chorus repeats a lot so I can take this experience and apply it to keep the choruses feeling fresh. Whilst in Vocal Technique classes I made some smart targets for myself including:

Correcting Enunciation

Breath control

Stable vibrato

Stable belting

Summative Assessment:

For the final assessment I've chosen to do the song "Tempest" by Deftones. I feel the song is comfortable in my range and I'd rather do a song that I know I can do and then add some higher notes or improv later on then choose a song to show off with and then get it wrong or strain my voice trying too hard. This is a good opportunity for me to work on my target of breath control as well as although it starts slow it does get heavier so I'll be able to work on going full out for performances but still sound stable and supported. I also feel I can easily manipulate the song into different genres with the live version being similar to the original track and then the produced version being a more intense orchestral piece. The live version would have strong vocals in a chest voice with a high energy performance including interaction with the other musicians, head banging and lots of movement on stage. There would be a delay pedal on one of the guitars whilst the other plays rhythm and we can also add a slight synth to a keyboard to replicate the ominous guitar sounds in the background of the beginning of the song. I struggle with talking to people I don't know so finding musicians to help me will be a personal challenge however it will help me develop my leadership and communication skills. Over all I would say the transitions musically will be very difficult and need to be focused on in rehearsals by counting them out together and finding the right levels as well as figuring out what I want to do stylistically by experimenting with different ideas as I don't necessarily feel comfortable with screaming. For the recorded version I'll be working on my own and it's going to be mostly piano with some intense strings building up the atmosphere. I also can experiment more with vocals adding reverb and layering harmonies as well as panning the vocals. In my opinion vocals are really difficult to mix and sound natural so I'll be doing a lot of research on this and finding new plug in's for a good delay effect.

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Overall Smart Targets:

Academic:

Explaining my ideas and experiences clearly

Understanding how to Harvard reference correcrly

Production:

Develop my mixing vocal skills

Understand how to EQ string plug ins

Professional:

Develop my confidence in reaching out to other musicians

Understanding which offers will benefit me and which offers will be detrimental

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[raposarealm]

Just saw the character questions you reblogged! I don't know who you've answered about in the past, but how about either Geo Stelar/Subaru Hoshikawa and/or Sonia Strumm/Misora Hibki? I'm almost positive you've probably answered about them already, but they're my favorite characters in Mega Man Star Force (Alongside Luna). Thank you for reading this, even if you don't respond!

YES ABSOLUTELY I WILL ANSWER

Also surprisingly nobody's sent in Subaru or Misora (or any Starforce characters, actually) yet.

Ok I'll do this in two, but first: Subaru because I will always, always be ecstatic to gush over him because he's my favourite. Also, this got super long so read more to save people’s dashes:

Why I like them

Oh god where to start. Literally me. he's literally me when I was a critically depressed hikkikomori kiddo floating in-between grades in high school. Right down to the space nerdiness. But, I digress.

First off, I don't see too many well-written representations of depression and trauma (or PTSD in this case, arguably,) in the media I consume or in general really, but the few that I do see tend to be the kinda 'Izusu Ren' archetype: gloomy, melancholic, tearful, and often self-harming or even suicidal (especially in Ren's case particularly.) This is accurate to some folks, yes! But, not so much to my experience with the illness. I'm not suicidal, I'm not self-harming, I'm not tearful and sad and mopey. And, neither is Subaru! He's not sad, he's angry, frustrated at the world in general and at himself specifically. He's self-deprecating, but also cynical and paranoid to the point of delusion. He's actively forcing himself to stay this way at the beginning of the first game (I'll ignore the anime for now,) because he's so terrified -- phobic, even -- of being abandoned or betrayed again, and it's just... easier to keep everyone away if you convince yourself that everyone's out to get you, or angry at you, or if you just see people as caricatures instead of, well, people. And that's so dead on the mark of how I act, it's almost creepy.

Subaru has no energy, no motivation, and that's what depression does to you, the 'depression' is the depresses energy, 'cause your brain's not producing enough serotonin, enough dopamine, and your nervous system isn't working right. But, all that paranoia and delusion ends up giving Subaru some pretty severe anxiety issues as well, which isn't really surprising given how often those two disorders overlap. He's not a classic textbook-example of depression, he's an amalgam of different disorders, all compounded by occurring in his early formative years! It's not really known if he had friends before Luna gang and Misora, but there's a good chance he didn't have any close ones -- which might have been why he was so close to Daigo, and why he couldn't physically move on from his death/disappearance for three whole years, until Warrock shows up and very literally drags him back into the world.

But Capcom didn't go full edge here, not at all, because once he's given a reason to keep moving, even one he might not have wanted at first, Subaru can't keep up the cynical façade anymore, he can't keep convincing himself he doesn't care about people, because he does, more than anything. I feel, Subaru kinda embodies the whole 'with great power comes great responsibility' line, y'know the one. He didn't choose to fight, he was forced to by the imminent crisis in the moment (either the out-of-control train in the game, or the derailed monorail car in the anime.) He didn't want to fight, he was scared, he straight up has a panic attack in the anime even; but, even if he didn't care particularly about the rest of the town, even if the classmates now dangling precariously over a hundred-plus-foot drop had previously left a bad taste in his mouth, these were still people, and therefore, he couldn't think of them as objects. There's a line he quotes in game 1 during the denpa-human attack that I've already made a whole post on, but I'll repeat it here again since it really sums up Subaru's true view on things: "Even if there was a sliver of a chance, it's better to do something." I compared it to a line said by Shinobu Akira in her story in Magia Record, "Inaction is Cowardice," and I feel that both lines also resemble a principle I strongly try to live by: Noblesse Oblige, or "Nobility Obliges," the ideal that people in power should help those who don't have it. (Or, as defined by the OED, "privilege entails responsibility.") Even if Subaru didn’t care particularly about anybody in danger, or otherwise, once he fully realized that, as Ryuusei, he now had the power to fight and protect others, he had a duty to do so. This was especially expanded upon in game 2, which, yes, joke all you want about the story, but I still feel that at least this part of the plot was handled really well. 

Having Subaru break away from the ‘gung-ho warrior of justice’ archetype we tend to see in both shounen and magical girl genre series (fight me), or maybe even just from his predecessor Netto’s pure nosiness and naïve curiosity, let Subaru have a character arc that mirrored the arcs of the characters he fought, and eventually saved. He’s having to overcome his past, the way Misora and Luna were. He was having to overcome the cynicism that had come to be his shield, the same way Gonta was using his image as a cruel ‘tough-guy’  to hide his insecurity. He had to learn to place his trust his new-found friend(s), the same that Utagai had to learn that not everyone was out to get him (and frankly, both had to learn to trust Amachi specifically, ehe.) He had to learn to persevere through the right path, even when facing insurmountable odds, the way Ikuta had to learn to fight for what was truly important to him, consequences be damned. And don’t even get me started on Tsukasa and Hikaru. Hell, Subaru even had to re-learn to see people as individuals, and to place hope in them, the way Warrock had to do when encountering Daigo, and again through Subaru himself. Actually honestly the dynamic of those two is just, fantastic thank you. It kept his character from feeling stagnant, since he didn’t start at a good place, he had room to grow and improve -- but also room to dip back down again, to have impactful ‘darkest hours’, and just moments of true, well, mental illness. 

And since the plot of the series is so heavily character-driven, Subaru ends up getting to the point where he chooses to keep going, to keep fighting and protecting others. He chooses to keep his own development going, into a true ‘shining star’ of hope for others. (Ok look I was trying to make a pun here, laugh, dammit.) And the hope others place in him ends up powering him in both a metaphorical sense, and in the very literal sense of the Brotherband. He’s only able to activate the Star Force when he vows to protect Luna no matter the cost. He’s only able to break free from the control of the OOPArt[s] through the force of his will to prevent harm from befalling those dear to him (once again Luna, I know.) And look I’m sure game 3 has an equivalent with whatever’s going on with the Noise Changes but I still haven’t finished it because D-pads are my enemy. He’s only able to be guided back home in the game 1 ending by the collective bond, the Brotherband, between him and his friends, even the ones who hadn’t formed a formal connection were still so dear to him that the connection became a literal path. ...Have I made it clear how much I love the Power of Friendship trope, because it’s literally The Best. 

And maybe that’s the core of it all, Subaru as a character, and through that Ryuusei as both an alias and extension of the two characters that form it, embodies the power of friendship, of bonds, of hope so integrally, yet he’s not the annoyingly bubbly, over-optimistic protagonist that usually gets that type of theming -- he’s believable because he falters. He never gives up hope or faith, but he comes dangerously close, and he’s still prone to a whole load of self-doubt and deprecation that comes with being the one shouldering it all. Also, how did this end up turning into a Madoka theme analysis? Whoops. Basically, I like Subaru’s character theming in the same way I like Madoka’s character -- a realistic, but not dark or edgy, response to their situations, and a inseverable, if not unwavering, hope.

Why I don’t

Ok, usually I have an answer here, but... Nope. Subaru is literally my favorite okay, I don’t dislike really anything about him.

I will note that, for the anime’s writing of him in particular, some of the impact of his arc is lost by speeding up his ‘recovery’ from his depressed state. Actually, my problem there might be that the anime kind of implies that Subaru ends up defeating his mental issues permanently, with the only relapse shown in the middle of the season much more to do with active trauma (and some goading from Cygnus) than with anything more deep-seated. Here’s the thing: depression, anxiety, trauma (and resulting PTSD), any other illnesses/disorders you could argue Subaru to have... they’re treatable, they’re combatable... but they’re not curable. They don’t magically go away, they don’t even go away with all the work in the world. Mental disorders are the result of a physical deficiency and/or deformity in the mind, whether neurologically or chemically. And the source of that issue can’t be cured, because it’s a fundamental part of how your brain works. It’s like saying that an autistic person can’t be ‘cured’ of autism -- because it’s a fundamental issue with how our brains are wired to work. 

The game doesn’t do this, fortunately, and instead does the opposite: it goes almost out of it’s way to show us how these illnesses and issues are still there, they’re still affecting Subaru and every way he functions. He’s never going to be ‘cured’ of his depression, trauma, anxiety, etc., but he still overcomes them the best he can -- and when he can’t, he’s got friends to pull him out of whatever funk’s got him this time. The anime kind of nerfs Luna gang into secondary characters a lot of the time (though arguably set up to be main during the short-lived and much better Tribes,) and while Misora is sort of set up to take their place, they take too long to fully let her and Subaru be actual friends instead of just teammates. Amachi and Utagai kind of fill in a little, but their adult status kinda makes them feel more like mentors and teammates more than proper friends. (Anime-ver. Amachi definitely feels like an older brother-esque figure to Subaru, at least. Utagai, well... he’s Utagai.) However, I wonder how much of this had to do with the show possibly just not having enough time to build things out at the pace they were moving.

Favorite episode (scene if movie)

Since I’ve mentioned both game and anime versions here, I’ll give one for both!

For the game, definitely the scene mentioned above from game 1, during the denpa-human attack on Kodamasho. This part of the game takes place directly after the culmination of the Libra arc, which ended in the school play, where Luna mistakes Subaru in a poorly-made costume for the actual Ryuusei (until Kizamaro fumbles his queue and blacks out the spotlight, which, having now worked with a manual spotlight, that’s not hard to do, give the kid a break he’s short.) Luna’s already starting to act on edge around Subaru at this point, since A) she’s not sure who she saw in that moment, but she can’t shake the suspicion that Subaru and Ryuusei are connected somehow, and B) her puppy crush on Ryuusei has started to evolve into a much more tangible crush, but on Subaru instead, so she’s frazzled and it doesn’t take much for her to start going off the deep end panicking when she, well, witnesses her two closest friends turn into some sort of pink floating monstrosity right in front of her. Her clinging on to Subaru instinctively helps cement Subaru into the rare leader role, and we get to see him act under pressure, in civilian form, with a panicked friend in tow. The line mentioned above is given in this part, where after tactically traversing the school grounds for an exit, Subaru realizes he’s definitely gonna have to fight his way out of this one, and accepts this all on his own, no prodding from Warrock, no complaining or cowering, he immediately moves to thinking of how to protect Luna who’s still clinging to him like a lost puppy. So, rare Cool Subaru, a not-so-rare flustered and panicked Luna (which helped to transition into her arc in the next part,) solid character growth on both parties, and my favorite line of all time.

As for the anime, I’d say I’m split between three. The first scene being Subaru and Warrock’s first meeting. It’s so drastically different from the game’s version, but I sort of liked having them get a chance to properly meet before chaos ensued. It’s rather comical, so it sets up the ensuing gravity of the fight to come in the next episode. 

The second scene, the Ryuusei vs. Harp Note fight. Note (ehe) that in the anime, Misora was unconscious during this fight, and her arousal signaled the end of the skirmish. As a result, Harp was in complete control of Misora’s body, and that led to a much more dangerous opponent than what Harp Note would be later on with Misora conscious. This fight had a surprisingly little amount of dialogue, given what’s normal for the rest of the series, and animation-wise, you could tell that lead storyboarder Shingo Adachi had his hand in this one, it’s one of the best in the season. Subaru demonstrates real efficiency and skill with the battle card system, as well as the high agility and speed he becomes known for throughout the series. The best part, though, being one of Harp’s lines before the fight -- in response to her rhetorically questioning whether her adversary was Warrock in henkan, he effectively tells her to shush and go back home... and then Subaru responds separately as Ryuusei, with much more dignified dialogue of course. Harp responds bewilderedly asking if Warrock’s host was actually conscious, cementing how rare a team such as the two of them working together was. It’s an early indication of both Warrock’s unique nature among the denpa, as well as showing how in-sync (or maybe in-synchro, this is the same studio after all,) the two are. 

The third scene, Subaru returning after the encounter with the Satella Admins to rescue Warrock. Given everything that had happened between the two at this point, Subaru’s decision to throw his wariness and anger of Warrock out the window to save and reunite with him, first, is obviously a really good Power of Friendship scene, which is just the best. But, secondly, it shows more character growth on Subaru, and a lot of it all at once. Warning for spoilers, but Warrock had been accused of being Daigo’s murderer, but in the end, Subaru decided that there wasn’t any way that could be true, that this person that he’d come to know so well just wasn’t betraying him. Finally embracing gut instinct and a blind faith in a friend sets Subaru on the upswing of his arc in this season, and helps to bolster Warrock’s character as well. (The premiere usage of the Star Break coming in the scene after this makes it even better.)

Favorite season/movie

For games, game 1 is my favourite game of all-time now. Like, it’s displaced Drawn to Life, the namesake for this blog even. For the anime, Tribes was better than season 1, ridiculous Gainax ending aside. I just know that if they’d had more time/episodes, it would’ve far eclipsed the source material of game 2.

Favorite line

Already answered above: “Even if it was a sliver of a chance, it’s better to do something.” (I know Daigo said it first but shush)

Favorite outfit

I mean, he wears the same thing pretty much all the time? But, I do like his normal civilan wear, and good ol’ Ryuusei also looks real neat. (Also the concept art outfit from the cancelled game 4 is actually awesome and also the only good thing we got out of that.)

OTP

Look, honestly, Subaru’s kind of shippable with any of the main adolescent cast, but also, I don’t strongly ship him with anybody really. But I guess if I had to pick a pair, Subaru/Tsukasa. Also, Subaru/Kizamaro of all things works... better than it should.

Brotp

Subaru/Gonta and Subaru/Misora! (Or better yet, all three of them as the game 3′s terrific trio!)

Head Canon

He learns to knit because Akane suggested it a bunch of times (she’s canonically said to knit in game 2,) and even though Kodama’s too warm for winter wear, any time he ends up somewhere actually cold, he has a scarf that Akane knitted for him earlier on.

Also, for a decidedly less cute one: since in-game, Subaru would die if Ryuusei did, I assume damage taken in henkan carries over to his civilian form. Thus, I imagine after months of fighting, he’s developed some fairly impressive scars, mostly on the limbs and back from near-misses and being surprise attacked. He usually wears long clothing as shown in canon, so they’re not visible normally, but during Phys Ed and other points where he would have more skin showing, he covers the scarring with a makeup concealer (probably found at like, the local drug store or something.) This would apply to Misora, too.

Unpopular opinion

Y’know, I don’t think I have one of these this time.

A wish

Let him continue to stay with the friends he’s grown so close to.

An oh-god-please-dont-ever-happen

Capcom, don’t you dare pull out that cancelled game 4 ‘edge rebellious teenage phase’ Subaru y’all implied. I. Will. Fight. You.

5 words to best describe them

Stubborn, Resilient, DEPRESSED, Anxious, Determined.

My nickname for them

I affectionately call him ‘my boy’ because he’s my favourite and therefore my boy; I also call him ‘Mohawk’ (though I also call Kill La Kill’s Kinagase the same thing and that made for a confusing summer 2017) and also ‘Cockatiel’ because everyone else like to joke about that.

WOW THIS GOT LONG it also took me like three hours so sorry Crystal

Gonna get to Misora next, because I can’t not gush over her too