#I've written quite a lot of things in my solitude

[poppy-thatcher]

Kintsugi (Bakugo Katsuki)

A/N: I don't even care if anyone reads or likes this one. It's 100% self-indulgent. Though, I guess they all are. But this one let me get stuff off my chest that I've been bottling up.

All this to say... I've recently broken up with my boyfriend of 6 years.

The argument at the beginning is, more or less, how our last conversation went. I held back on some of the more cruel things he said to me. And the part after... that's me mending my broken heart the only way I know how to. With protective, cocky, Pro-Hero Bakugo.

You thought he was your forever... but who knew forever had an expiration date. But no worries... your shattered heart won't stay broken for long. And him, he plans to mend your shattered pieces with gold.

Warnings: Cursing from you-know-who. Suggestive talk.

Everything with him tonight felt forced. His smile wasn’t as bright, his attention a little spacey. When I gingerly walked him to his car, clutching my hurt side tightly in my hand, he spun to face me. The sheen in his eyes glossed them more than normal. My heart hammered in my chest. This look was very familiar to me. One I didn’t want to see ever again, one I was promised I’d never bear witness to again. A look I witnessed when we took our 3-month break after 3 years of being together.

With a wavering semblance of braveness, I stepped in front of him, my eyes immediately catching his as I spoke words I didn’t want to. 

“Just… just talk to me, please,” I muttered, trying to get him to open up to me, to relay an ounce of what he was feeling. “I can see the pain in your eyes when you look at me, please stop hiding whatever it is you’re afraid to tell me!”

“I’m… I’m moving back home in a few months!” He shouted, a single tear streaking down his handsome face.

He knew this new adventure was something I couldn’t follow him on. He knew I had things here that tied me down to my location, my home.

“I love you more than I’ve loved anyone or anything,” he gently smiled at me, “But I can’t stay here with you any longer. This place makes me feel like my life is stagnant, like I’m wasting my time. I need to get out of here.” 

“Oh.” I quietly said.

“We don’t have to split up right away. I’ll be here a few more months before I head back. We can spend our last months together, making memories.”

I nodded, a hollow feeling in my chest, and stepped back. For the first time in our 6-year relationship, I didn’t feel like seeing him or being in close proximity to him.

“Are you okay?”

 I didn’t know how to answer that loaded question. My recent surgery left me weak, mentally and physically. Then the person my life circled around, the person I sacrificed pieces of myself for to make sure stayed happy, felt as though his life was stagnant. I had felt like the world’s biggest failure. What good was I if I couldn’t even make my closest friend feel like life with me was something worth sticking around for? Adding an impending expiration date on what we shared didn’t seem like the healthy option but my nerves made me keep those thoughts to myself. Maybe, just maybe, the little time afforded was better than nothing.

Silent tears streaked down my face. I gently wiped them away and looked into his alluring eyes.

“I understand that you have to go. But remember that I’ll miss you more than you can imagine.”

And he tightly pulled me into his chest, holding me close.

I quietly whispered, “I wish you would stay with me, but I understand why you have to go.”

He scoffed and pushed away from me a bit, “That’s a really selfish thing to say!”

I blinked rapidly, my eyes making contact with his, trying to figure out if his loud tone was genuine or if he was joking.

“Sorry?” I said, or more like questioned, unsure how to handle the new situation. Apologies always fell so easily from my lips in an attempt to stop the ever-ticking time bomb from combusting.

“Are you really though?” He asked, his brows furrowing as he kept me at arm’s length.

“For telling you how I really feel? No. I guess I’m sorry that I shared my feelings with you though.” I snapped back.

He gently pushed me away from his hold, pushing himself a few steps away to create space between us again.

“My life is stagnant because you made it that way! You,” and he exhaled, running his hands through his shoulder-length hair, “you made my life stagnant. You’re this burden I didn’t ask for, this dead weight that I can’t bother to carry. I deserve to live my life without dealing with your problems. I have my own to take care of.”

I loudly swallowed, attempting to keep my tears at bay. I pushed as far away as I could, not wanting him to hear the moment my heart shattered beyond repair.

“I didn’t ask for your help…” and he quickly cut off my rant.

“You’ve done absolutely nothing with your life and I don’t want that to be me! If I stay with you, here, I’ll end up sad and pathetic like you. So I’m moving.” 

I nodded, putting my head down to not display the silent tears streaking down my face.  

He stepped close, heavily sighing, and raised my face to look into his stupid mesmerizing eyes.  

“Making you cry was the last thing I wanted to do.” 

I pulled my face out of his hands, keeping my eyes to the ground.

Knowing someone I cared deeply about felt this way about me broke me to my core. He knew I felt this way about myself. He knew hearing these things would undoubtedly hurt me beyond repair. He knew this was something I struggled with immensely. Feeling like I was a burden, like I wasn’t enough, like I was just wandering through life trying to find my purpose and coming up empty-handed every time. 

“We can stay together until I move, if you want. I don’t want us to end this way, on this horrible note.” 

I scoffed and rolled my eyes, wondering why he thought that was something I’d even want to do. No matter how much I stupidly still loved and cared for him, being with someone when there was an expiration date didn’t feel all that healthy. Even more so when I knew I was nothing but a burden to him.  

“I’d really rather not. No sense in staying some place I'm not wanted.” I exhaled, trying to stay strong and stop the tears from flowing.  

“I thought you loved me?” he snarled, scoffing back at me.  

“Funny, I could say the same to you. But you don’t feel that way about someone you love. Someone you love is never a burden, never dead weight. They’re someone you encourage… not put down.” 

“Oh, now you’re just being a selfish asshole about it!” 

I scoffed again, realizing this idiot never loved me. Not in the way that I loved him. He couldn't possibly love me with the way he was dismissing my feelings so casually. The way he always did, now that I thought about it. It was clear that he only ever loved himself.  

I spun to go back inside my apartment but was quickly turned to face my new ex.  

“There’s no coming back from this. Walk away now and I’ll not look back, I’ll not love you ever again.” 

I roughly yanked my arm from his grasp, “Like you ever did.” 

And I slammed the door in his face.  

I wasn’t paying attention to where I was going, mindlessly trying to juggle everything in my hands while I made my way through the people to get to the cash register that sat on the other side of the store.

I could see my destination in sight. But before I could even make it that far someone bumped into me, sending all my held items tumbling to the floor.  

I pouted and kneeled, beginning to pick them up slowly, mentally trying to figure out how I would balance them again by myself.  

His voice cut through the air as he called my name. My heart clenched and I quickly looked up into his familiar mesmerizing eyes.  

“Wow, it’s good to see you! You look…. well... you look great!” he smiled down at me, not helping me pick my things off the ground, just watching as I struggled.  

I smiled and quietly thanked him, not wanting to be rude and have him cause a scene. I went back to my task, paying him no mind. After a few struggles, I stood, hands full once again, and saw that he was still standing in front of me. He looked down to my full arms and gave me this smug look.  

“Retail therapy? Still brokenhearted after all these months?” he smirked that deadly smirk that always made my heart race.  

It did absolutely nothing to me this time. 

I lightly laughed.  

“You think I’m still hung up on you?” 

And he leaned in close to me, making me try to take a step back, newly realizing I was already far too close to a clothing display to afford that luxury.  

“You’re not?” And he brushed his fingers across my new bangs, carding his hand through my hair as I tried to find a way to make space between us.  

“I’d sure as hell hope not. Not when she’s got someone like me to turn to!” I heard the gruff voice behind him.  

I exhaled, finally feeling more at ease.  

Katsuki pushed my ex out of my personal space and grabbed all the clothes I had in my hands, tsking and glaring at my ex for not even offering me any help. He winked my way and went to the cash register, everyone parting ways for the big Pro-Hero.  

My ex opened his mouth like he was going to say something. But Katsuki’s booming voice cut him off.  

“Oi, short shit… get that perfect ass over here!” he said, knowing his words made my face heat up and my cheeks and ears to tinge pink.  

“Sorry,” I said to my ex, passing him.

Old habits die hard.  

My ex, unknowingly to me, followed slowly behind. No doubt, to see what I was doing with a Pro-Hero.  

“Do you have to be so loud?” I quietly murmured, blushing Katsuki’s way.  

He smirked, making my face that much more red, and pulled me tightly into himself, coiling his hands around my waist and resting them at the apex of my butt.  

“I don’t havta be, sweet cheeks,” he said, nudging my nose with his perfect one, “but I want that idiot of an ex to stay the fuck away from what’s mine.” 

“Yours, huh?” I smirked back, biting my lower lip.  

Katsuki’s eyes immediately drifted to my lips and then his vibrant vermilion eyes met mine quickly.  

“Why did you have to get so much stuff?!?” he whined, turning to the cashier who was still ringing my items up, but not daring to remove his hands from my waist.  

“You said go wild!” I laughed, “You could have gotten here sooner, ya know? So you could reign me in!” 

“No, no. I wanted ya to get the things ya wanted. I just… I need ya like right fuckin’ now. And this is gonna take us all day!” 

“It will not, you’re such a baby!” I laughed as he grabbed me tightly in his arms, nuzzling his head into my chest as I ran my fingers through his soft hair, making him purr. 

“So… you using the hero for his money?” my ex said, finally making himself known.  

Katsuki didn’t move from his position, just turned his head to make eye contact with my ex. He didn’t say anything but the glare he gave him made my ex take a step back.  

“It’s just… she wasn’t particularly well off when we split. And it’s only been a handful of months since then. I didn’t think she’d replace me that quickly. Not to mention, she’s probably not found anything she’s particularly good at, right? She still kinda stagnant in life?” 

I loudly swallowed, trying to not let my ex’s words get to me. Before I could say anything Katsuki stood straight up but kept me tightly in his arms.  

“I’m gonna explain shit to you so your dumbass might learn somethin'. One, she’s not using me for my money. I care for her deeply and takin’ care of all her needs, gettin’ to see that beautiful fuckin’ smile is worth more than money can ever buy. Two, she’s not required to figure herself out in a set timeframe. Some of us take time to grow and learn what we want outta life. What she needed was someone to challenge her, inspire her, and encourage her to do and be whatever the fuck she wants to be. Whenever the hell she wants to be it. I got nothin’ but time when it comes to her.” And he pushed my bangs back, kissing my forehead, as I blushed again.  

My ex stood there, brows pulled together, mouth agape. Katsuki turned back his way, keeping me tightly to his side as his hand rubbed methodically on my bare arm.  

“By the way. She’s not stagnant. I’ve had her for 4 months and she’s blossomed into everything I could have needed her to be. She’s attentive and a people pleaser. I might have taken advantage of that fact a few times. She’s understanding of me and my hero work. And she’s just genuinely great at everything she does. I wouldn’t change a fuckin’ thing about her beautiful ass. How’s your life goin’ though, pal? Weren’t you supposed to move back to your hometown or some shit like that?” Katsuki laughed, handing the cashier his card, “hey, your loss is my gain. And I ain’t letting her go as easily as you did. I’m gonna marry her and make her have all my fuckin’ kids.” 

“Jokes on you, she didn’t want kids!” my ex laughed.  

Katsuki smirked at him, then looked at me, “She probably didn't wanna have them with a man-child like you. But she’ll have my kids. Won’t ya, kitten?” 

I nodded, blushing, thinking about all the things Katsuki was promising me. I had never met a man who knew what he wanted before. It was shocking and very refreshing.  

“Also, it’s her birthday, fuck face. I’d spend my whole paycheck on her if she’d only let me.” 

The cashier handed me my bags and Katsuki quickly took them from me, tucking me into his side and kissing my forehead.  

“I’m not sure why you’re still hangin’ around. But we’re headin' to my place so I can give her another, bigger, better birthday gift. You’re not invited. I don't share. Later, idiot.” And he pulled us past my ex, making me smile from ear to ear.  

When we stepped outside I pulled myself from Katsuki’s side, bending over, hands on my knees, to catch my breath.  

“Damn, babe. Are you okay?” Katsuki asked, gently trying to move my curtained hair from my face so he could assess me.  

I took a huge gasp in, throwing my head back, finally releasing my loud laugh.  

He rolled his eyes lightly chuckling to himself.  

“You scared the shit out of me, asshole! Jeez!” he said, grabbing my hand and pulling me to his fancy car that Valet had brought around.  

“Sorry, but goodness. I couldn’t have asked for a better chance encounter with that jerk. You have just given me the most incredible birthday gift ever!” I said, finally standing in front of him, wrapping my arms around his neck, and playing with his hair that loosely hung at his nape.  

“Nah, don’t think I’m done now beautiful. I got ya a lot more things waitin' up at my place.” He smirked.  

“If it isn’t a puppy, I don’t want it.” I laughed, joking with him.  

“What if I beg instead?” he smiled nice and big. A sight I didn’t see too often.  

“I guess that works,” I said, laughing at him while he ushered me to the opened passenger door, waiting for me to get inside.

Unnecessary Extra A/N: If you did, thanks for making it this far in my ridiculous little self-indulgent story. That first bit hurt to re-read. I haven't cried much over the split. Like yeah, the first day absolutely killed me. My eyes were pretty much glued shut. I wasted 6 of my years with someone I thought was my forever. Not only that, but I was still recovering from emergency surgery and on strong pain meds. It all felt like such a horrid nightmare. But yeah... I cried reading that scene this time. Part of me sometimes thinks I overreacted to the situation. But the rational/logical part of myself felt like the split was a long time coming. Looking back at it now, the relationship was incredibly toxic. He suffered from really bad depression (way worse than my own) and I feel like I sacrificed a lot of myself to try and make sure he was happy. In doing so, I lost myself. I lost that person who loved to be artistic, crafty, and loved to write. I spent so much of my time with him, worrying over so much, that I now have the most horrid anxiety. Some days I feel I'm beyond repair. But the episodes are getting further from each other. I have felt more my original self in our time apart than I have in quite a long while. And I'm incredibly thankful for that semblance of peace I've managed to regain. Sadly, we run in the same circles, so seeing him will always be a possibility. Hopefully, I get the same kind of relief my written self got here. Someone who can appreciate me for who I am and encourage me to be an even better version of myself. I'm definitely not in a rush, since I want to get my old self back and do things that make me happy again, but patiently waiting for my Bakugo! 😆

#bakugo x reader #mha x reader #bakugo katsuki #bnha x reader #heartbreak #hopefully I stick with posting #I've written quite a lot of things in my solitude #a lot of Haikyuu pieces #a smut piece I'm especially nervous to post because I still don't know that I'm THERE yet #see... part of me thinks I knew this was coming #i was just waiting for the other shoe to drop #a Yuta piece I wrote when I was still with my ex... it's about cheating on him with Yuta and throwing away a 6-year relationship #it came from a dream I had #I've never even thought about cheating because I'm loyal to a fault... clearly #But if Yuta was real 🤔 #my ex was my first EVERYTHING so I think I held on for dear life just hoping that my love would be enough #it wasn't enough for him #but i suppose one day it'll be enough for someone #sorry... I ramble

[teyamsatan]

The Archer | Chapter X: Daylight (the end)

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

Summary: As Neteyam comes back to life, the two of you have to decide how you want this new chance at a future to look like, and that means leaving some things behind in order to gain others.

Pairings: Neteyam x Avatar!Reader

Word Count: 15,5k words (wtf honestly)

Warnings/notes: it's over :'( , so many feels i'm drowning in them, smut (kinky, filthy smut, 18+ Minors DNI!!!)., cursing, mentions of blood and death.

A/N: 200,000 words later, the Cardigan series has officially come to an end. I have so many things I want to say, but I feel like no words would do justice to how incredible writing this story has been as an experience for me, how much it's meant to me and will continue to. I said in the first chapter of Illicit Affair that this is the first things that I have written that will ever see the light of day, and to see how many people have resonated with it, engaged with it, it has been beyond my wildest dreams (another TS reference, ha!). I will never be able to convey how grateful I am to literally each and every person that has liked, commented, replied, followed, reblogged. I know you probably hear that a lot, but I mean it from the bottom of my heart when I say I love you, and I thank you for giving me a voice, and a sense of community.

I have one more Oneshot I am planning to write for this story, which will be set in the future, and then I will be moving on, and starting new challanges. I hope you guys enjoy this chapter, and once again, thank you so so much.

I've been sleeping so long in a 20-year dark night

And now I see daylight, I only see daylight

And I can still see it all in my mind

All of you, all of me intertwined

I once believed love would be black and white

But it's golden, like daylight

You were almost on the brink of drowning as you came out of the vision, looking at Kiri, who met your gaze with a mirror of your own, wide and shocked, thrilled and ecstatic, hopeful and joyful beyond any reason. You struggled to keep your cool, to keep your mouth closed, when all you wanted was to open it and scream, scream at the top of your lungs, scream for all the world to hear that you did it. You got Neteyam back. He was dead, but you revived his heart, you restarted his body, you found him in Eywa, you led him home. You never realised how literal his nickname for you would ever turn out to be, but you were grateful, for now and always, to have someone who loved you, who understood you, who shared in your every pain and grief, in your every moment of relief, in your deepest fantasies and happiest hours, who thought of you so profoundly, your being so connected to his own that your existence would be intertwined for life, for all life, for every life you led.

Holding hands, you swam towards the surface and smiled as you saw Lo’ak and Payakan hanging out. Payakan was officially reinstated in the clan and in his tulkun tribe, after heroically helping in the battle against the Sky People. Still, he preferred being with Lo’ak most of the time, and preferred being on his own. It was a hard pill to swallow, but one you were forced to many times, that, in time, you learn to love your chains. You learn to rely on the solitude, to accept it as your own, as a friend and companion, and the imprints of the shackles still dig into your skin even after they are gone. It was a phantom pain, solitude, and even when it was gone, you still felt it, still craved it, still wonder how long it would be before it inevitably came back. 

As you surfaced, Lo’ak entire body jolted and turned in your direction, quite literally on the edge of his seat as his legs were hanging off his brother’s fin. His eyebrows were raised and his eyes were so wide, they were emanating light in the night darkness surrounding you, like little beacons in the sea. Both his palms were propped upwards, towards the sky in an inquisitive motion, and you could tell he was dying to know, dying to find out whether he still had a brother. You smiled in his direction, a wide smile that could barely scratch the surface of all the emotions trying you, but it was enough for him to understand, enough for him to jump up, and run laps on Payakan’s back, yelling and screaming in relief, much like you wanted to do, much like you felt you needed to. 

“COME ON, come on come on, let’s go!” 

You laughed at you brother and you saw Kiri rolling her eyes, but you all had tears swimming like little fish in the sea, and hope in your heart, and as you helped your sister onto Payakan, you knew you had to hurry, you knew there were very few thoughts or words that could encompass what you were all going through. 

The tulkun made quick work of the journey, the gentle giant surprisingly fast for his size, and in no time at all, you found yourselves near the entrance of your marui, hearing voices coming from the inside. You stopped still in your tracks, the increase in your heartbeat so quick it made the world spin around you and your knees wobble, until they felt like the tendrils of the Tree of Souls, deep in the Omatikaya forest. Why were you nervous? It was Neteyam… your Neteyam. You’ve been together for a year now, you’ve known each other your whole lives. Seeing him hasn’t evoked this feeling in you since you were 16 and so in love with him your heart thumped at the mere mention of his name, beads of sweat dripping down your body at his mere gaze towards you, electric shocks down your back and to each extremity at any mere touch he bestowed on your body. His presence still evoked these feelings in you, the raw physical reaction you had to him unchanged in time, but you were never nervous around him anymore. Your love was comfortable, evolving from a wild fire, setting everything ablaze in its wake, to a camp fire, providing solace and warmth, providing comfort and home. 

Why were you nervous? Maybe because going through those flaps, and seeing him alive would really allow the fact he was gone from this world, gone from your life to begin with, sink in. Maybe it is cause it will bring to focus how close to losing him, to losing yourself, you really were. Maybe it’s because you knew his fluttering eyes and his lips wrapping around each word as they left his mouth would bring you to your knees, would remind you of how your last conversation was a fight, a horrible, insidious fight and that in the meantime, in his absence, you lost so much, including the promise of a baby you knew he wanted more than anything in the world. How were you supposed to tell him? How would he react? Would he ever forgive you? Would you ever forgive yourself?

“Angel, you coming?”

Lo’ak waved a hand in front of your face while he gently shook you with his other one. 

“Angel, you ok?” 

You gulped audibly, then looked at him with panic deep set in your features. His eyes softened taking you in, and he pulled you into a hug.

“It’s going to be ok. We’re all going to be ok. You did it, angel. You brought him back to life. Now’s the happy part, you know? Now’s the good part. Come on, I’m sure he can’t wait to see you again.” He took your hand in this and pulled you behind him as he walked, and you allowed him to guide you, appreciating the little push, as you don’t know if you would have been able to make it by yourself. 

There was chaos in the tent, chaos that tired you, that reminded you how exhausted and depleted of every possible resource you actually were. Max and Norm were busying themselves with machines and medical equipment, no doubt trying to make sure Neteyam’s vitals are alright, that he was alright. Would there be brain damage? Would there be physical consequences for his coma, for his lack of oxygen when he died? You tried to focus on one voice at a time, to allow it to ground you to the moment, ground you to environment around you, as you felt lightheaded and close to collapse. You found the only voice that mattered, the only voice that you would recognise anywhere, anytime, in any plane of being, in any state of consciousness, in any body or mind, in any alternate or parallel universe. The only one. 

“I’m alright, sa’nok. I am here. I’m sorry.”

You’re still yet to see him, buried under all the bodies of your family members, all straddling and caressing his arms and chest and legs and feet, clinging to him like they didn’t want to let go - like they couldn’t. You got the impulse, you got how necessary it felt, how demanding a compulsion. You stood cowering in a corner of the marui, allowing them the moment you got in the spirit tree, allowing them to wallow the loss and rejoice the rebirth of their son, of their brother, of their hero. 

Your hands settled on your lower abdomen, flat and taut against your palms, that you cradled and caressed softly, imagining it soft and tripled in size, imagining your fingers pressing down on it to meet the little hands and feet pushing from inside it to feel you, to talk to you. You thought sadly about the baby that was gone, your baby, Neteyam’s baby, your little perfect bundle of joy, and looked at the way Neytiri and Jake hugged their son tightly, so much love and gratitude filling the air around you, so many tears and cries filling the silence of your home. You knew then that if that was your price to pay, if this was your burden to carry, you were happy to do it, happy to have been able to be even a small reason why this moment was unfolding in front of you. 

A son for a son. 

A little synchronised movement between all of them is all it took for you to come face to face with the man you loved more than all the stars in the night sky, all the stars adorning his beautiful body, that stiffened as he took you in, his golden eyes wide as they landed on yours. You held the breath in your lungs and counted. Nothing else mattered in this world, not ever, not anymore. Nothing but those eyes. Nothing but the soul that was reflected so well in them, like mirrors to the depths within him, that nobody knew like you did, like nobody understood in the way you could, just like you knew he knew you. Your twin flame. You melted at the scrutiny of his gaze, that now migrated to your hands, to your lower belly that you were still holding affectionately and his eyebrows raised taking it all in. A small sob escaped your throat at seeing him, finally seeing him, at him seeing you, finally seeing you, exhausted and cried-out and marked in bruises and cuts, in thick loin cloths that were dripping in a mixture of water and blood, all the way down the leg and on the floor of the marui. 

The entire family turned around to follow their son’s gaze, and when theirs landed on you, when it shifted in between the two of you, when the air became thick with tension and anticipation, in your grief and fear, in his confusion and hope, you faintly saw Jake motion everyone out of the room. Tuk came hurrying to your side, and you had to break your eye contact with your mate to kneel and take her in your arms. 

“Thank you!” She was crying, small hiccups escaping her mouth with every deep breath and her small arms encircled your neck so hard they were hurting you, but you held her, allowing her to cry it out in your presence, that you knew consoled her. You have always been scared of the eventuality of motherhood, scared of your demons getting the best of you and manifesting as bad parenting, scared of the possibility of hurting your child without realising, without meaning to. Scared to be a bad mother. But holding Tuk in your arms, knowing what you meant to her, knowing you were pretty much her second mother and have been for a while now, it put your mind at ease. It helped you deal with the mind-paralysing fear and to some extent, helped you be hopeful of a time when your own child will look at you the same way.

Neytiri got up from where she stood and approached you, her eyes so red and puffy there was barely any identifiable white in them, and your heart constricted in pain at the sight. She’s had to endure so much. She hugged you, so tightly her beaded top and jewellery were scratching painfully on your skin and you smelled the faint smell of metal as blood started pouring out of you. 

“You know, when I first saw you, you were the smallest thing I had ever laid my eyes on. So small, smaller than I could ever imagine a baby being. I stood next to your mother while she gave birth, and had to watch her scream in pain, scream so loudly I thought the whole forest would wake up. I was pregnant then, and watching her scared me, scared me for when I would have to give birth to my son. And when you came, you were bloodied, and covered in goo and a little wrinkled, but then, Norm and Max washed you, and I swear I had never seen anything more beautiful in my life. Not just you, but your mother. And the look she had on her face, the love I could feel all around me, the instant unbreakable connection, the unconditional bond that would transcend time and space, would always be more than any words can describe. I loved your mother, my girl. I loved her so much, and I promised to take care of you when she passed. 

Imagine my surprise when you ended up taking care of us, instead. I always knew you were special, but to watch you grow up, watch you become the reason my clan is rid of a disease that plagued it for years and years, watch you fight alongside us, complete your Iknimaya, become one of the people. Watch you bring my son back to life… my son, that you have been connected to since before he was born.”

You were both crying as she was caressing your head, pushing your hair backwards and stroking it gently.

“When I was very heavily pregnant, I came to see your mother. We met in the forest, and she brought you with her, you were just a couple months old, and they had just managed to make a little oxygen mask for you, so Marj wanted to show you the forest. We lay on the ground together, just talking, like we always used to do. And all of a sudden, you reached out your little palms, almost like you were searching, and you touched my belly. And you just kept your tiny hands there, on my belly, with a little smile on your face. We laughed about it at the time, but didn’t think that much of it. Until just a few hours later I went into labour, and had Neteyam not too long after. 

I thought about that moment since it happened, every time you two were together. Every time it felt like you two were one soul, split in half down the middle, meant to one day reunite and become one again. It was scary, and foreign. You were human, and he was Na’vi. You would never be one of us, I thought. But no one could deny the connection between you, not even the Tsa’hik. When you were young, your mother told me in confidence she is working on an Avatar for you. That she feels like you belong with us, you always have. That you belong with Neteyam. I agreed, but after she died, so did my hope for it.” 

She looked guilty and torn as she spoke. “I pushed him, I told him to leave you, to give you space. I told him to find a mate, I thought that’s what needed to happen, I thought it would help you both heal, it would help you move on from a love that couldn’t be, that was impossible. I am so sorry. I had to see you both suffer and know I caused this.” You took her in your arms again and held her, your turn to console her. 

“It’s alright, sa’nok.” 

“When Norm told us about the Avatar, I was so happy. So, so happy, it felt like this was always meant to happen, this was always meant to be. I knew then that you and Neteyam would always find each other, that I was right from the beginning. That Eywa willed it so. Eywa willed everything so. The Avatar, the impossible to make Avatar happened, and it could only happen to you, because you had to be one of us, you had to guide us, you had to be Neteyam’s light. Your hands brought him into this world when he was born, your light guided him, and then brought him back to this world, when we thought we lost him forever. It was you, always you.

I will never be able to repay you. But I will continue to be your family, your mother, for as long as I still can, for as long as you’ll allow me. I will always love you, and I will always protect you with my life, just like you have continued to for me, for us, for so long. Oel ngati kameie, ma’ ite (I see you, daughter).” 

Your mind was at a loss for words at Neytiri’s confession, at her love letter to your mother, to her son… to you. This woman, this incredible, strong, capable, beautiful, intelligent, kind woman has done so much for you, has given you motherly love you thought you would never feel again. She welcomed you in her life, in her family’s lives, she gave you a home and a cause and a reason to get up in the morning, and you never thought you would be able to give her anything that would be able to balance any of that out. You were beyond elated to hear that you did manage to give her something, that something you did helped her, brought her comfort and safety and peace. 

“Oel gnati kameie, sa’nok (I see you, mother). You and this family are everything to me, everything. And I will continue to fight everyday to be worthy of it. Of you. Thank you.”

You hugged each family member individually, and thanked Norm and Max for their invaluable contribution to your and Neteyam’s health, for always being such good men in the storm, for being the best extended family you could have ever asked for. You watched as every last one of them left, and, with a deep breath in, you turned your gaze to him, the only person in the world - now and always. 

“Hi.” 

His smile dazzled you, feeling the dizziness you have been struggling with for a while, the ache deep in your womb come back into focus and knock you to your feet. You walked slowly to where Neteyam was laying, every step a torture, every step a moment in which your body seemed like it was catching up to itself, catching up to everything it’s been through. Ever since your dad’s message, your body fought and fought, it withstood everything that was thrown at it. Fight or flight always did wonders for you, until it was time to crash, until after the world settled around you and the adrenaline, the stress diminished, and you could finally feel the overwhelming pain that was lurking beneath the surface. Neteyam reached a hand out to you when he saw how wobbly you are, but winced when the gesture tugged at the needles of the IV fluids currently flowing inside his body. You grabbed his hand into yours as you plopped yourself to the ground, and he inspected you carefully, sorrowfully, frown lines so deep you thought they would never go away. His eyes fixated on the thick, unattractive loincloths you were dressed in, that were still dripping on the floor from your swim, and his frown somehow deepened at the blood that was clearly visible on the material and that had dried going down your thighs. 

Your hands travelled all over his body, from the hand he reached out, up his arm and on his chest, over his every bruise and cut that was way underway to healing, to his navel and over his abs and up again, until they reached his neck and face, his face that clearly showed him awake and cognisant, clearly showed that he was back to you, back into your life that he was violently yanked away from, and seeing his expressions, his eyes, reminded you of the vacant ones he left behind that haunted your every moment, reminded you of his blood on your hands and Neytiri’s wails, of how every ounce of happiness and love just dissipated from you like water on a hot day. 

“I can’t believe you’re here.” Your voice cracked in the middle of the sentence, and hearing that voice, so defeated and broken, so much like how you felt inside, was enough to push you over the edge, enough to make you sob aggressively in his chest, grateful to be able to do this again, grateful for the way his arms found their way to your back and hair, that he was caressing gently, his touch everything you have needed for days that felt like years, like lifetimes that you lost, that you would never get back. 

“I’m here. I’m so sorry it took me so long, Atan. You’ve always been so much quicker than me, at everything. It always takes me a bit longer to catch up to you, but I am here. And I’m never leaving again, not without you.” 

“Promise?”

“Promise.” 

It took a long time for Neteyam to manage to calm you down, but eventually your heartbeat lowered to an appropriate rate and your breath stopped feeling like it was burning your lungs and you were so dehydrated from crying that that also stopped eventually. 

“I’m so sorry about your dad, Atan. So, so sorry. When I saw him in Eywa…” he couldn’t continue. “I am so sorry. I’m sorry I wasn’t here for you, so sorry you had to go through all this by yourself.” 

“Neteyam… I am the one that needs to apologise. I have so much to be sorry for, so much that I need to tell you. I -“ 

“You have nothing to apologise for. Nothing. The fight, what I said, what you said, it was all wrong. It all came out wrong. And you know… when I left you then, I was so sad, so unmoored, like it was a problem that we would never be able to solve, but then, as I watched Lo’ak leave for Payakan and knew that I would follow him into danger once more, no consideration for the consequences, no other thought outside of saving him, I knew it then you had been right to say the words you said. You were right. And if I want a family, if I want us to move forward, it has to come from me. I have to show you what you mean to me, that I’m here to stay, that I will keep myself safe as much as the people I love, so I can live to see my children grow up, the way I’ve always wanted to. So I am sorry. And I will be ready when you are, whenever that is. Whatever it is, we’ll brave it through together, and I promise I’ll be here for you, and I will be more careful.” 

You had no idea how much you needed to hear those words until they left Neteyam’s lips, but as you did, your whole heart lit up from within, and the light that shone through the cracks helped mend them, helped heal it, helped put it back together. You would be ok. You and him, you’d be okay. As long as you had each other, there’s no storm you couldn’t weather, including parenthood. 

“I need to tell you something. And I fear when I do, you’re going to hate me. And I’m so sorry. I am so sorry that it happened, because it took it happening for me to realise that I am ready, that I am not afraid anymore.”

“What is it, Atan?”

He struggled to sit up so you could be face to face, and despite your wordless protests, you helped, heart throbbing at his proximity, and his presence that enveloped your own like the warmth of a sun, and when it was done, you sighed and continued, feeling soothed by his thumb tracing your lips and the white luminescent freckles on your cheeks. 

“When the ship attack happened, the fight with the humans, the effort it took to get my dad away from it all, the stress of losing you, the effort of bringing you back… there was so much pain in me, pouring throughout my whole body, but I thought that was just from all the wounds, both physical and emotional, all the wounds I had to withstand in such a short amount of time. B-but…” You choked on your words, hoping and praying that by swallowing them whole you wouldn’t have to utter them, not have to say them out loud, not to him. Your hand involuntarily went to your abdomen, that you stroked mindlessly, and when Neteyam’s eyes followed your movement, a look of terror grazed his face. 

“I found out… I was pregnant. We were pregnant. The little being we wanted, the little bean I was so scared of, it had been there, and I didn’t even know. I didn’t even know until the stress and the pain and all the loss and grief running through every inch of my being took it away, away from me, away from us.”

Admitting this to your mate was somehow even harder than you thought it would be, and you found yourself once again collapsing on his chest, once again pushing out tears from a body that felt like it had very little water left to spare, but still it gave you its last remaining sources for this, knowing you needed it, knowing there was nothing else there, but the tears, to drown the emptiness you felt in your body, in your womb.

Neteyam was reeling at your words, so much shock and pain, no amount of painkillers pumping through his veins could keep up, could ever numb this feeling down. But, as he watched you suffer, convulsing with each sob that escaped you, he realised the grief he felt was for you, for how much you had to deal with, power through, all alone. To know that this is what was happening while he was revelling in a fantasy land with all of his heart’s deepest desires come alive, it killed him. The guilt he felt ate him alive and left only scraps in its wake, enough for birds to peck on until only the bones were left behind. He should have been here, should have helped you through this, you should have been able to mourn the loss together, feel its unbearable weight together. He felt tears gather in his eyes and spill down his cheeks and neck, looking at your thighs that were smeared in your blood, just like your loincloth was, knowing what caused it. 

“Please, please don’t hate me. I am so sorry. When they told me, I realised how much I wanted it, how much, despite everything I said to you that day, nothing would have made me happier than to watch myself get bigger each day, than to watch you beam with pride at the thought of being a dad, than to watch us trying to figure out how we’re going to do this, than to know no other baby has ever been so loved, so spoiled, so cherished as ours would have been.”

The tears were unrelenting, hearing your pleas, laced in anguish and terror. He took your face in his hands gently, moving it away from his chest, that was now soaked in your own tears. 

“Atan, look at me. Please? Please look at me. You crazy girl, how can you ever, ever think I could hate you? What am I supposed to hate you for? Because you fought on the ship? Because you tried to save your dad? Because you worked tirelessly to bring me back home? What kind of person do you think I am?”

Your sniffles were all that could be heard in this tent that has seen so much, too much, too many tears, too much pain and grief, that would be forever plagued by the Sully’s misfortunes, but that Neteyam was adamant to change. He was adamant that the tides were turning, and that the only cries it shall ever hear again were those of pure, unadulterated, incandescent happiness. 

“Come here.”

His hand wrapped gently around your throat and the action made you gasp, but he pulled you towards him gently until your lips met in a kiss that promised to heal you, to mend all these unconquerable torment and reshape it into hope and wonder. He was desperate for your touch, desperate to feel you, desperate to make up for time lost and past gone, but he wanted to wait - you both needed to heal, to mourn together and move on, and right now, you both needed to fall asleep in each other’s arms. 

Neteyam woke up groggy in light of last night and all the drugs being pumped in his body, but as he felt your back snug against his chest and heard your soft breaths, his mind cleared and focused, and he was able to notice the rest of the world around him, such as his dad’s snores and Lo’ak’s senseless sleep-talk, as well as Tuk’s little body tucked in yours, as you held her tightly in your arms.  He really felt the need to get up, and stretch his legs. He felt the need to see the sea, to breathe in fresh air and watch as the nature surrounded him, as the Metkayina got up and ready for the day. He missed it, he realises. Missed all of it. It was great to be back in the clearing, and have you, and see the two babies, but waking up in your arms, with your pheromones inundating his senses, seeing his family share his space, seeing people exist outside of him and his problems and grief - he missed it and he was happier by the second to be able to experience it again. 

It didn’t take a lot of movement on his part for you to stir in your sleep and open your eyes, immediately turning your head to look for him, almost as if you were trying to make sure he was still here with you. He smiled a little at your panicked expression and the frown that melted as soon as your eyes locked, and the smile you gave him, wide and serene, with your fangs poking through, made him finally understand what you meant when you told him humans say being in love feels like having “butterflies in your stomach”. 

“Good morning, yawne. God, it feels good to say that again.”

“Do you think we can go outside? Just you and me?” 

You looked at him with a flicker of concern, but nodded softly. You turned around and patted Tuk awake gently.

“Tuk-tuk, I need to go, can you please go sleep with your parents, baby?” 

Tuk whimpered a little, but almost sleep-walking, made her way in between his mother and father and instantly fell back asleep. You both snickered at the sight and he wished silently he could sleep that easily. 

You got up, wincing a little as you did, which Neteyam dreaded, and carefully removed the needles in his body. You held out both your hands to help him get up, and he felt grateful for your help as he realised he could barely move his body by himself anymore, deep pain and numbness throughout his entire being. It took a long time and a lot of effort to get him outside, and he felt ashamed about it, embarrassed at the strain required to do the most basic things. Neteyam prided himself on his physical prowess, something he had worked for his whole life. He was strong, powerful, he was quick and agile, he was fast and limber and right now, he was none of those things. 

With a sigh, he lowered himself on the edge of the platform, allowing his feet to dangle in the water, that was warm against his skin, a big difference to the ice cold water of the river in the clearing. 

“It’s going to take a while, my love. For both of us.” He noticed your hand moving once again to your lower abdomen, almost a necessity at this point. You did it so often, without even thinking about it. He pressed his hand on you, as well, imagining a little kick meeting his touch, imagining the swell of your belly as life grew inside of you. He was so sad about it, but tried not to dwell on it, as he knew this wasn’t meant to be, and when it was, it would make the experience even more meaningful in light of everything you both have lost. 

“Does it hurt, Atan?”

You nodded weakly. “The physical pain I can deal with. It’s everything else that hurts more.” 

“I know. But you are the strongest person I know. And if anyone can do this, it’s you. And I'm here. You don't have to do this alone.” He struggled lowering his body so that his head rested on your lap, but when he did, the comfort it provided alleviated any pain and frustration in his heart. He nuzzled his nose against your belly and pressed small kisses all over, and you laughed softly as they tickled you slightly. Your hand found his hair that you stroked rhythmically until he was so relaxed, he was on the brink of slumber once more.

“I think it’s time for you and me to go back home.” 

“What?” 

Neteyam’s astonished tone made you giggle a little, and you almost didn’t recognise yourself or that sound, having been so long since you last heard it. 

“I think we should go home. I think it’s time.”

“Atan… we can’t go home, you know that.”

“Yes, we can. We left because Jake wanted to keep us and the village safe by hiding. But they found us. We’re not safe, and we can no longer hide. And if we’re going to fight, if we’re can’t hide anymore, I’d rather do it back home, where you and I belong, where we’ve always belonged.”

“Neteyam… your last words were ‘I want to go home’. You want to go home, and so do I. Neither of us wanted to leave to begin with. We belong there, with the Omatikaya. Our children belong there. Our children will learn the ways of the forest, they will learn to hunt and shoot a bow and arrow, they will learn to climb the trees and the Iknimaya, they will get their own ikran, just like we did. I love this place, and this clan, I really do, and it will always have a special place in my heart. And we will visit. We will have to, considering our brother will be their Olo’eyktan one day.” You chuckled again at the though of Lo’ak, his newfound love for this clan and the chief’s daughter, and how even in this way, he is a carbon copy of his father. 

“Shit. I never thought about that.” 

“But our place isn’t with them. And that’s okay. Sometimes growing up is knowing what works for you and what doesn’t, and knowing when to let go of the people you love, for them to be able to grow and evolve on their own, and for you to be able to do the same. You’ve held on to Lo’ak your whole life, clung on to him, and on a quest to protect him, you lost your life. Lo’ak’s always felt alone back home, and he always felt like an outcast, but here, he’s free at last. Having found Tsireya and Payakan, he found himself as well. He’ll made a great Olo’eyktan one day, but in order to do that, he has to not feel like he’s always living in your shadow, in my shadow. So let’s just go, you and me. Let’s go home.” 

Neteyam’s mouth was agape in surprise and shock at your words. He struggled to comprehend what you were saying to him. Go home. Their home, their real home. They couldn’t do that… could they? Neteyam resigned himself months ago in knowing his home was a long forsaken dream, that he might never see again. He resigned himself in knowing he will never be truly himself again, in knowing he had to live without an integral piece of what made him who he was, an Omatikaya warrior, rider of banshee, son of the Olo’eyktan and Toruk Makto, future Olo’eyktan himself. You said once humans had a saying, that home is where the heart is, and he felt that way most times, content in life as long as he had his family by his side, you by his side. But he didn’t agree fully to it - home was also where your clearing was, home was where he imagined his children being born and raised, home was in the trees and in the Hallelujah mountains, home was night rides with Seze and Neyn, home was where the Palulukan and Yarik and Talioang and Pali were, home was all of those things and more. And to have a chance to live in it again, have a chance at making his dreams and childhood fantasies come true, it was incredibly enticing, so much so his heart ached instantly just at the fleeting thought of it not happening. 

But how would it even work?! How would he ever be able to leave his family, his brother behind? His careless, stubborn, loving, amazing brother that he has spent every day of his life with, that he watched grow up so much in the mere few months they were in Awa’atlu, that finally felt like he had found his place, and Neteyam winced at the realisation him and his baby brother didn’t share the same idea of home. It pained him to admit that you were right, as you always seemed to be. Lo’ak’s home was here. The sea was his home, the sea would be his children’s home, before their birth and after their death, and Neteyam would have to watch from a distance, and get glimpses of the man his brother would grow up to be in time. He felt tears pricking painfully at his eyes. He was happy, so happy for him, that he finally found a place, found a family in Tsireya and Payakan, but he was saddened by the thought that, in the end, that family wasn’t him. Growing pains fluttered through his entire being as he realised childhood was over, and it was time to grow up, it was time to step up and be the adult that was needed, that would be able to take care of his own family, of his children and his mate. 

When you were younger, Neteyam saw you read a book that you loved dearly. Neteyam would listen intently as you talked about it, as you read him passages from that book and one of them always stuck with him as he made his way through life. He always wondered what it meant. 

“You will find little joy in your command. But with luck, you will find the strength to do what needs to be done. Kill the boy. Kill the boy and let the man be born.”

Now he understood. He finally understood that his death was the death of innocence and childhood, and it was time to let it go, and let new beauty, new life peer through, for new happiness to shine. 

“Let’s go home, Atan.”

════════════════════════════════════

It’s been a few weeks, and Neteyam felt himself getting stronger by the day, in no small part due to Norm and Max and their infinite patience in helping him heal, in helping him be able to slowly move his body again, his shoulders and arms. They said the journey to recovery would still be a long and strenuous, but that in time, he should be able to get the full function of his muscles again, and be as good as new. In those weeks, Neteyam watched blissfully as you were getting better, too, the bleeding close to completely gone. It was time. Time to talk to his family and let them know of the decision you two made, that only solidified in his mind in time. It was the right decision, the only decision. He wondered briefly if his parents would think the same. 

It was a good as time as ever, as the morning light beamed through the marui and filled it with warmth and patterns moving with the wind on the ground. It’s been a peaceful, calm few weeks and everybody could tell, the atmosphere serene and filled with laughter as his mother and sister were preparing breakfast for everybody. Neteyam saw you give him a pointed look, raising your eyebrows in their direction, and with a small sigh, trying to work up the courage, he cleared his throat and spoke.

“Ahem… everyone, there is something we wanted to tell you.” His heart started booming in his now healed chest as his whole family turned around and watched him intently. 

“What is it, ma’ itan?” 

He felt comforted by the feel of your fingers intertwining with his and the little squeeze that followed. 

“We’ve thought about it for a long time, and Neteyam and I want to go back home, to the forest.” 

His father’s mouth dropped, as did the rest of his family’s, and his fingers pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration as he sighed loudly and shook his head.

“Kid… we’ve talked about this.”

“No, Jake… we haven’t. We made this sacrifice because we thought it was the only way. We thought we were protecting the Omatikaya, the Na’vi, we thought by hiding we could keep this family safe. It didn’t work. The humans found us, the humans took so much from us. There is no hiding anymore, and we want to go where we belong, where we’ve always belonged.” 

“Dad… I know this comes as a surprise. But we are doing this. My whole life, I have spent giving up pieces of myself, pushing down my feelings and my desires, in order to be the version of myself I thought you wanted. The version of myself that I thought this family needed, the clan needed. But I’m no longer a child anymore, and no longer the future Olo’eyktan. I died, dad. My mate lost a baby, my baby, and I wasn’t even there. This will never happen again, I won’t let it. I want to be a good father, a good mate - like you are. I want to raise my kids in the forest, I want to fight for my clan and for my people that have raised me, that I have sworn to protect since the moment I passed my Iknimaya, since the moment I knew I was the son of the Toruk Makto.”

Neteyam looked at Lo’ak, who looked sad and angry. 

“I want to make it clear that I don’t expect anyone else to join us. This is something we have to do, but brother, you don’t. You… you’ve grown so much, Lo’ak. I watched as you found your place in this world, as you found your mate… your brother. The sea gives and the sea takes. You taught me that, brother. It took the forest away, and it took me away, but it gave you so much, and will continue to give you… strength, and a purpose… a family. And I will watch you become the man I always knew you could be. And when you become Olo’eyktan one day, I will know you are the best Olo’eyktan this clan has ever seen. A mighty warrior. A good leader.” Lo’ak’s face changed into a misshapen mess, trying to maintain his composure and not let the tears inundating his eyes fall, the way they were threatening to. Neteyam moved closer to him, patting him affectionately on the head.

“I’m so proud of you, Lo’ak. And I’m so sorry if my existence ever made yours more difficult. It’s hard for me to think of you as anything else other than my baby brother, but you are a man now. And it’s time to let you go. And I can’t wait to see you again, and get to see your incredible future unfold in front of my eyes.” 

Lo’ak said nothing as he slapped Neteyam’s arm away and pounced on him in a rib-shattering hug, and he was pleasantly reminded of the thousands of times his baby brother has done this when he was younger, back when his love for Neteyam was obvious and manifested itself physically, back when they were inseparable. Neteyam circled his arms around Lo’ak and patted his back and Lo’ak let out his sadness and frustration, years of pent up resentment and anger, years of feeling inadequate and isolated. They both needed this. The rest of his family quickly joined into the hug and Neteyam felt suffocated as his siblings and parents squeezed the life out of him, but he wouldn’t have it any other way. It was time for all of them to heal, for all of them to grow. 

You took Spider’s hand in your own, the two humans who didn’t quite belong anywhere, but who had a family they loved and that loved them and you watched the beautiful moment unfold in front of you, happy tears slowly falling down your cheeks, your other hand resting, as it always was these days, on your belly, mindlessly caressing it. Being here, in Awa’atlu, surrounded by the endless ocean, has been painful for you, filled with emptiness and grief and loss, but oh-so-necessary. It had been something you all needed to go through, a time of discovery and growth, a time to break and a time to heal. You realised with a small smile that Tsireya was right. 

Water connects all things. Life to death. Darkness to light. 

You were almost done. Most of yours and Neteyam’s stuff was now safely tucked in Norm and Max’s helicopter, deciding you would give Neyn and Seze some freedom to fly as wildly and freely as their hearts desired. Both of the ikran were playing with each other in the airspace above you, their happiness so clear it was palpable. Seze was hard to budge from Neteyam’s side, so protective and desperate to ensure he wasn’t going away again anytime soon, so much so Neteyam had to order her away to play with Neyn. It turns out, Kiri has also been feeling similar to you and Neteyam, and despite how much she enjoyed being here, how much she enjoyed the water and the new flora and fauna, she too missed home, and her grandmother, and her Tree of Souls. So you watched as she said goodbye to her parents and to Lo’ak and Tuk, and held Spider’s hand as she put the rest of her stuff in the helicopter. 

It was a bittersweet moment. The whole clan was here to bid you goodbye, and you started with Ronal and Tonowari, that you owed for eternity for the way they took you in, for the way they give your dad his forever resting place. You approached them slowly and thanked them the best way you knew how, with an “I See You” and a ceremonial bow, that quickly turned into a hug when that felt like not enough to impart all the feelings you held inside. It was strange to them, and a bit out of place, but Tonowari was quick to adapt and reciprocate, while Ronal was ever the stoic, although she did wrap one arm around you in a moment of uncharacteristic affection. 

“Thank you. We will both miss you dearly.”

“Don’t be a stranger, nantutetsyìp (little human).”

“I won’t. We won’t. We will be here so often, you will get tired of us.” Tonowari laughed while Ronal rolled her eyes, but a small smirk was still apparent on her beautiful face. You reached a hand over to her belly, that you touched softly. 

“I can’t wait to meet this little baby. I will be her favourite aunt, that’s a promise.”

You moved on to Ao’nung and Rot’xo, that you punched affectionately in the chest. 

“Take care of my baby brother and sister. Or I will come back and I will show you how us forest people handle conflict.” 

You hugged them both, and were surprised to see the hint of sadness in their eyes. You will miss these knuckleheads. 

There was no hint in Tsireya’s eyes, as she was full blown crying in Lo’ak’s chest, and you had to pull her away from him so you could look at her and remove her tears with you thumb as you caressed her beautiful face. 

“Don’t cry, sister. We will see each other again soon. You have to visit, you have to come to the forest and see our home, you have to climb the Iknimaya with us. And when you come, I will show you the labs, and I will quiz you on all the English that Lo’ak should be teaching you. I don’t want you falling behind on our lessons, ok??” 

“Yes, sister. I will miss you so much, I wish you didn’t have to go.” 

She gave you two beautiful shells, almost identical, turquoise and dotted in white bioluminescent freckles, just like she was, and placed it tightly in your hand. 

“This is for your songcords. Both you and Neteyam have a place among us, you always will.”

“Thank you, Tsireya.” 

You turned your full attention to Lo’ak, who was once again, contorting his face so as to not appear weak in front of the girl he loved, and in front of the girl he used to love. 

“Take care of her, Lo’ak. And of yourself. You don’t have us to save your ass anymore, so you have to be your own older brother now, and Tuk’s. Do you understand?” 

“Yes, Angel.” You were proud of how well you handled it, no tears up until now, but as you looked in the eyes of your best friend, of the boy who got you and your humanness in a way no one else really did, not even Neteyam, who shared your sense of humour and wild streak and your inclination for cheesy old school movies and TV shows, you couldn’t hold it in any longer. 

“Be safe. And visit, ok? And don’t forget us while you enjoy your endless walks on the beach and adventures with your new brother. Me and Neteyam still got dibs on you, do you understand?”

“Yes, Angel. I’ll miss you so much.”

“Me too, baby brother.”

Finally, you moved to Neytiri, Jake and Tuk, who both decided they would move between the forest and the reef, so as to spend equal quality time with all family members. They had no more responsibility, no more weight on their shoulders, no Olo’eyktan or Tsakarem duties anymore. They could just be for a while, enjoying the peace while it still lasted, and you were happy they could finally be free, at least until the humans decided to strike yet again. But the victory at Three Brothers Rocks definitely put a dent in their plans and budget, and you knew it would be awhile until that were to happen. You had time. You all had time. 

“We’ll be home soon, ok, kid? It would be great if you could clean the tent for us beforehand, ha!” You rolled your eyes at Jake, but laughed as you hugged him. “Enjoy retirement, pops.”

You moved onto Neytiri, who was so happy to know you were going home, and that so was she soon, ecstatic to see her mum again, to see the forest again. 

“Don’t take too long, sa’nok. Mo’at will not be happy to be kept waiting and I can’t live without Tuk for too long.”

“We won’t, ma ‘ite. Be safe. Eat well. Don’t strain yourself, you are not fully healed yet.”

You smiled at her motherly ways that she was never able to fully disconnect from, that you never wanted her to, especially when they were directed at you. “Will do, ma.”

You kneeled on the soft sand to take Tuk in your arms as held her as she cried. 

“We’ll see each other again very soon, my baby. Don’t be sad, you know I would never leave you.”

“Promise?”

“Promise, baby. Come here.”

You held on to your mate as you said one final goodbye to everyone, and then climbed onto Neyn and connected your queues, feeling her excitement overwhelming you at the thought of going home. I know, girl. Me too.

You felt your stress and anxiety melt away with every kilometre you got closer, with every tree that came into focus, until it completely melted from your bones at the sight of the forest in the distance. You looked at Neteyam, who was smiling widely, relief so transparent and obvious on his face, and you laughed at how it was mirrored on Kiri and Spider’s faces as well. You felt free. Free at last. You knew they did, too. 

════════════════════════════════════

Neteyam woke up like from a reverie, like from the vision in Eywa, back in your tent, in both your tent, and felt like he was floating. He looked at the fabric and counted all the dots in it through which light blinked carelessly, and felt warmth envelop his body as he tightened his grip around your sleeping form. It’s like he never left. Your home looked exactly the way you left it, both of you having spent a few days getting it back to this point. He glanced around, at the bows now back in their stand, at the quivers and the guns, and he hoped it would be a long while before they had any use for them again. He looked at your desk, and smiled to himself at how you did a happy dance at seeing them all again and having it all back, all the books your mother spent her whole life collecting and keeping close to her heart. He peered at the mirror you looked at every morning before you went outside, and the two songcords that were back where they belonged, hung on it, one on top of the other. It was hard to picture the life he left behind, hard to imagine the reef as anything but a dream, a hallucination. 

As he pressed a small kiss on the top of your head, he saw you turn to face him, wide golden eyes and pearly whites the only thing he could focus on as he took you in, in all your unbelievable beauty. Your gaze turned primal as you continued to look at each other, need enveloping you both like a thick blanket you wanted to get lost under. It’s been so long, so long since he had you, so long since he took you, so long since he claimed you the way he knew you craved, the way you both craved. You both found solace in each other’s bodies, in the way your individual needs were only met in each other - his need for control, your need to relinquish it. Even in this way, you were perfect for each other, made for each other. You were his match and he was yours.

His cock throbbed in need, in desperate need to fill you to the brim until you were dripping in cum, until you were swollen and sore, until you were begging him to stop while pushing him deeper in you. It drove him mad, your look, the way your pheromones were flooding his nostrils, the way the sound of your pounding heart matched the twitching of his hard member, the way the smell of your arousal was so thick, sweet and floral, he could feel it on his tongue. 

It took every scrap of self-restraint in him to not rut into you like a feral animal, but he had other plans and the surprise he had planned had to take precedence. 

“Atan… I need you to be a good girl for me and wait until tonight… can you do that?” 

You whined as you threw a leg over his hips and started grinding yourself slowly on him. 

“I have had to wait for weeks. Weeks, Neteyam. Weeks in which the only thing I could think of is your cock so deep in me I start to see stars.”

Neteyam growled, a deep guttural growl and removed your leg from him. 

“You’re gonna make me fucking crazy, Atan. But if you are a good girl for me, I will make it worth your while. And I will indulge your every whim… All. Night. Long.”

You threw your head back and moaned, and after thinking about it for a while, you eventually relented. 

“You better make it worth my while, or I’m gonna have to start without you.” 

He shook his head and kissed your nose affectionately. “I love you, my crazy, insatiable fiend.” 

Your patience was not one of your more formidable attributes, Neteyam thought tiredly as he was helping you onto Seze, a big frown on your face. You were definitely needy and desperate, and have been the whole day, which made it Neteyam’s day hell, having to push you away every 5 minutes, having to keep a level head for the both of you. You’ve been asking him about the surprise the entire day, testing his patience that he felt like he had infinite supplies of at the moment, thankfully. Eclipse finally settled and the mountains glowed with iridescent hues, that Neteyam made a mental note never to take for granted again. 

“Are we going to the cave? Or to the clearing? I thought we couldn’t really go to the clearing again?” 

Neteyam sighed for what felt like the millionth time today, and got behind you on his ikran. 

“You are a pain in the ass sometimes, you know?” 

“But I’m your pain in the ass, remember?” 

Neteyam made Seze land deep in the forest, in a place that was very familiar to both of you, and he knew you would know where you’re going as soon as you saw it. 

“So we are going to the clearing. I knew it.”

He grabbed your hand in his and intertwined your fingers, his other hand moving to your jaw as his lips closed over yours. You moaned and immediately deepened the kiss, to which he laughed. 

“We’re almost there, Atan. Come on.” 

You growled and threw your head back, but followed him without saying another word.

You knew you were being annoying. You could feel yourself being annoying, but you couldn’t stop, not when you have been unhinged with need the whole day, the whole month, since before that fateful ship attack and all throughout both your recoveries, throughout the journey back, throughout settling back in the forest. You still didn’t know what this was. You knew it was a surprise, but you didn’t know what it was or why it was. You were pouting now, walking pointedly towards your clearing, and you tried to relax and get excited about the fact you haven’t seen this place in so long, way before you even left for Awa’atlu, out of fear that humans might find you here and take you away.

You looked around you, at the beauty of the forest and the glow surrounding you, at how your each step was illuminated by the ground your feet were touching, and the howls and sounds of the nocturnal creatures coming out to play, the soft hum of the insects and the chirping of the birds. You loved all of it, missed all of it so much, a symphony that felt like that background music to your life’s story. As you pushed past the trees into your clearing, you gasped, the breath knocked out of your lungs at the sight. A red woven blanket was placed on the ground, pillows and covers enticingly waiting for you to snuggle in. You stared in awe at the huge holographic screen projected over the river, currently stopped at the introduction scene of Pride and Prejudice, your favourite book, the one you still had by your bed in the tent, the one whose covers were falling apart at the seams.

“Neteyam… what is this?” 

“It turns out, believe it or not, that I have been lucky enough to call you mine for a whole year now. Actually, it’s been a lot longer than a year, but our actual anniversary fell at a bit of an inopportune time, since you know… I was dead. And afterwards, we were both reeling, and grieving our loss, and healing our bodies, and when you told me you want to go home, I knew I should wait and do this properly. And so this is what I’m doing.” 

“I wanted to thank you, Atan. I don’t think I say this enough, but thank you. For having been my light since the moment I was born, until the moment I died, for guiding me back home, to you, every time I lost my way. For giving me a reason to be better - a better friend, a better sibling, a better son, a better man, a better mate. My whole life, I have looked up to you. My whole life, I saw in you the person I knew I wanted to be worthy of one day. I have watched, in awe, every day, as you became the most intelligent, caring, incredible, beautiful person in this world, a person who struggled so much, and went through so much grief, a person who carried so much darkness inside, and yet managed to emanate only light all around you, in everyone’s life. I have watched you be my sister’s best friend and confidante, my brother’s shoulder to cry on, my baby sister’s hero and my parents’ biggest critic and supporter and every day, I grew more in love with you. I have been by your side my whole life, and not one moment did I not love you, did I not hope that I would never have to be parted from your side, for as long as I lived. You have been the woman I have been madly in love with since I was 15, and the woman I hoped and prayed could one day be the mother of my children. I am so eternally grateful for every moment I get with you, every moment I get to watch you, every moment I get to wake up next to you, I get to look at you and know that nothing will ever change between me and you, between this formidable happenstance we call our love.” 

You were sobbing violently at his words, that made you feel so special, so loved and appreciated, that healed every hurt in your soul, that mended every crack in your forever broken heart, until there was only love, the love you felt for him, for your relationship, for the lifetime of memories you have made together, for the lifetime of memories you’re yet to make. He took you in his arms and held you, caressing you gingerly as you cried and sniffled in his chest. 

“I have a gift for you. Actually, I have two gifts.”

“I thought this was the gift.” 

“No, Atan.” 

You removed your head from his chest and waited as he went to the blanket and removed two things from underneath the covers. The first was a book. You took it in your hands with a confused look on your face, that quickly turned stunned as you read the cover. Pride and Prejudice. It was your mum’s book, but the cover was different. It was new. Made of wood, the woodwork detailed and intricate, with flowers and patterns, as well as a carving of the Bennett house as depicted in the movie that was currently paused on the screen. 

“This is actually cheating a little. This was the original gift I planned for your 17th birthday, that I never got to give you. I started the covers, but never got to finish them, and after I left, I thought I’d never get to give them to you. When we came back, I thought it would be the perfect time to finish it, and Norm and Max helped me bind the book. I know how much you love this book, and I know how sad you were that it seemed like it was falling apart. So hopefully now it will have a really long life, long enough to pass on to our kids, and their kids after that.” 

You always wondered about your life, about how it seemed so out of balance, so filled with sorrow and pain. You realised now, as you’ve always suspected, that Neteyam was the counterweight. Your good karma. He was what made all the sorrow and pain bearable, what made this life worth living, still so unbelievably beautiful, and exciting, and good. It was him. He was your gift, the Universe’s gift for all you’ve had to suffer through. You had no words that could convey what this meant to you, what his words and the gestures and this night will always mean to you, so you just kissed him, hopefully able to convey it to him in this way. He chuckled a little as the kiss came to an end. 

“You’re welcome, Atan. Here, your last gift.” He gave you a big cork board, and you recognised it faintly, it was a board that used to be in one of the labs you grew up in. Except now, it was filled with a collage of photos, photos that used to be hidden in your Pandora’s box, back in your old bedroom, where you kept all your secrets, all the things you were too scared to ever deal with. Photos of yourself as an infant, as a toddler, as a child. Photos of you and Neteyam, of your mum and dad, of the scientists, of the Sully family. And new photos, that you were seeing for the first time, of yourself, sleeping or hanging out with your siblings, laughing animatedly with Jake. Photos of you sleeping snug against Neteyam, photos that he obviously took in secret. 

“When did you take these?” 

“My dad has a camera that I use sometimes when you aren’t looking. Out of every human invention, I definitely think I like the camera the best. It’s amazing to be able to have these moments captured, forever. I have been collecting the pictures for months, and as we came back, I was able to print them in the lab.” 

You looked at the gap that covered the bottom right quadrant of the board, and looked at him expectantly. 

“That’s for all the new memories we’re going to make. It’s for when our children are born, for when we become aunt and uncle to all our little nieces and nephews, it’s for the amazing life we still have to live. I thought we could hang it in our tent, so you can look at it every day and be proud of everything you’ve achieved, Atan, of this incredible life you’ve led, that is only a tiny speck in the sky of the rest of our lives.” 

You smiled up at him, still in shock at everything he did, and all the thought he always put in his gifts, at how much he loved you, at how much you loved him. He took the gifts from your hands and left to put them by the blanket, away from view.

“Do you want to watch the movie? Or… are there better things we could be doing beforehand?”

You looked at him through your eyelashes, your vision blurry from how badly you needed it, how badly you just wanted to be fucked, like it was the first time, the only time.

"I'll take that as a yes."

His eyes darkened, pupils so dilated there was barely any yellow left in them, and he stalked towards you like a predator, like you were his pray to hunt, to take, to kill. You were panting in anticipation, your frilly beaded loincloth soaked in your arousal, that has been continuously pouring out of you all day, so saturated it was trickling down your ass and thighs. You couldn’t believe this man, couldn’t believe he was yours, yours to keep, yours to admire, yours to fuck until you blacked out, forever. He only stopped when he was so close to you, his breath was fawning over your face, and his smell, his musky, woody scent hit you instantly, making your tempestuous need uncontrollable. You raised on your tiptoes to bring your lips to his, but he stopped you, wrapping his long fingers around your throat and squeezing until the air left your body and the asphyxiation made you dizzy. 

“No, Atan. You’ve been a good girl so far, you don’t want to ruin everything at the last second, right?” 

He let go of your throat and you gasped, the sudden burst of pleasure making you moan and push your thighs tightly together, as the throbbing deep within you was so intense it was starting to hurt. 

“Fuck, Neteyam. Please, I just, I need you to fuck me. Please.”

“God, I love it when you beg. It drives me fucking crazy. You drive me crazy. I have needed to feel you, feel that pretty little pussy milk me, squeeze me, drench my cock in your cum for so long. I’m going to make you feel so good, Atan. I’m not gonna stop until you beg me to, until you’ve come so many times you pass out with my cock still deep in you. How’s that sound, mm?” 

You were almost done just at his words, the power they held over you unspeakable, the power this man had over your body still astounding you, a year later. You had no words, just moans, but it was not good enough for him. His hand squeezed around you once more and you were gasping for air that wasn’t coming, not until he allowed it. 

“I asked you a question, Atan.”

“Fuck. It sounds amazing, i-it sounds so good, Neteyam. P-please. Fuck.”

“That’s my girl.” 

The hand that wasn’t tight against your throat went to the back of your head, taking a fistful of your hair and pulling roughly on it, until your head was thrown back, and you felt a dull sting of pain when his canines dug into your throat, until blood came out and you went feral at the feel of his tongue licking over it, at the thought of it coated in your blood. You were reminded that the remnants of your blood were still circulating through his body, another way through which you owned him, you possessed him just like he did you. He kissed you, roughly, tongue darting over your lips and you opened them, drove to the brink by the taste of metal, of your blood on his tongue, in your mouth. You moaned in the kiss and he smirked, and you knew he loved seeing you like this. Panting, begging, mewling like a little bitch, desperate for his touch, desperate to be fucked unconscious. 

He lifted you effortlessly off the ground and knelt with you in his arms until he placed you on the blanket, your back loving the feel of the warm, fuzzy fabric. You reached behind you to grab a hold of your queue and brought it forward into his line of sight, and he smirked again as he did the same. 

“You want to feel what you do to me? How fucking wild you drive me? How deeply you own me, how badly I need you, Atan? You want me to feel your mind going blank as I bottom out in you, as I lick every bit of the nectar dripping in between your legs? Is that what you want?” 

“Yes, fuck. Yes. Please.” 

“Good.” He connected your queues and the influx of feelings, of desires, of savage, untamed emotions was almost too much for you to bear, eyes rolling in the back of your head. It was his turn to moan and the noise sounded so much better coming from his mouth, his deep voice reverberating deep within you, driving you one step closer to release. 

He skilfully removed your clothes and his own, leaving you with a glorious view of his incredible body, of his defined abs and bulging biceps, of the v-line that lead to his large, beautiful cock, rock hard and so swollen it was deep purple at the tip, slapping against his abdomen, leaking precum that you were dying to lick off it. 

“You are so beautiful, Atan. You are fucking perfect. I can’t believe you’re mine. I can’t believe my luck. I promised I would make it worth your while, let me show you I keep my promises.” 

He lined himself to your entrance, that was gushing in need, and you mewled as he teased you, slapping his dick against your folds, grinning like a devil. You arched your back and shut your eyes, deep frown lines on your forehead, that was already covered in a thick layer of sweat. He grabbed your jaw and pushed your head down to meet his wild gaze. 

“Look at me. Look how I fill you up with my cock, Atan.” Your eyes drifted down to where your bodies met, and you struggled to maintain you gaze as each inch of him was being buried in you, eyes fluttering open and close, the feeling too much, too intense. You felt yourself being stretched to the brim, until the border between pleasure and pain was delightfully unclear, until his tip hit your cervix, until his girth pushed against your g-stop, until your walls were contracting at the sensation you have been deprived of for so long. 

“Fuck, you take me so well. So, so good for me, baby.” He didn’t move, and you felt through the bond the intensity of his own feelings, so much love and care, so much need and desire in him and you waited, getting lost in this feeling, getting lost in the pleasure that so good, it was getting unbearable. 

“Move, Neteyam. Please, move.”

“I need to feel you first, baby. I need to feel the way my cock stretches your needy cunt, I need to feel the way your walls are throbbing around me, I need to admire the bulge in your abdomen as I fill you up. Look at it.” He pressed where the little bulge formed by his impressive length was visible, and as he did, you somehow felt even fuller, and once again you felt the need to close your legs, to try to get some relief from the torturous wait. 

Taking pity on you, Neteyam started a slow, maddening pace and he smiled when he saw tears in the corner of your eyes at how desperate you were. Without warning, he started rutting you like the little slut you were, like the way you have been begging for, and almost immediately your first orgasm washed over you with enough power to knock the air out of you and he didn’t stop, not when it was done, not until you came again, and again, and again,  until tears were falling down your face and into your ears at how overstimulated you were. 

“Neteyam, I can’t anymore.”

“Yes, you can, Atan. Come on, just one more and then I’ll fill this pretty pussy with my cum. Do you want that? Want me to fill you up real nice? Want to be dripping in my cum, want the whole village to smell me on you?” 

At his words, at the picture he painted, you felt the pleasure coil in you again, and you knew this orgasm would hit you like a tidal wave, keeping you on the ground with no power to get back up. 

“Y-yes, I want it. I want it so badly. I want your cum, fuck, I want it.”

“You want me to give you a baby? Want to make me a daddy?” 

“Y-yes. Yes, I need it, need your cum in me, please.” 

“Fuck yeah, baby. Take my cum, like the good little girl you are.” 

You both moaned as you came, the liquids in you mixing and spilling out of you, over your ass and onto the blanket. You didn’t know if it was all you’ve had to endure, or how long you’ve been without it, but this was definitely the best orgasm you ever had.

“I agree.” 

You laughed loudly, and looked at him affectionately. 

“I didn’t say anything.”

“I can feel you, Atan. I can feel the pleasure that washed over you, more intense than you have ever felt. I feel the same.” 

He pulled out of you, and pecked you gently on the lips. As you were trying to get up on your elbows, he pushed you back onto the blanket and you fell backwards with a soft thud.

“Where do you think you’re going? I’m not done yet. I told you I will indulge you all night long, didn’t I?” 

“Neteyam, are you not going to be happy until I pass out?”

“Isn’t that what I told you, baby girl? Did I fuck you dumb already?”

How were you still so turned on? How was your cunt still throbbing in need when you’ve lost count how many times he’s made you come already? You loved it when he was mean, such a stark contrast to the peck from earlier, to his usual demeanour, to his real, day-to-day self. You loved it, it made you squeeze against thin air, feeling the need to be filled once more.

His hands wondered over your whole body, over your breasts that he caressed and pinched until you whimpered, until his fingers were replaced with his tongue, the ministrations making you grind your hips against nothing, the noises coming out of your mouth more unholy with each second that passed you by, each minute that he was sucking and licking every inch of skin he could get his fingers and mouth on, until he reached your folds, still leaking a mixture of both your cum, that he lapped at like he had been starved, like this would cure the drought plaguing his senses. Your senses, on the other hand, were plagued by him and his skilled tongue, and the way it was pushing into you, sucking on your abused clit, until your walls were clenching once more. He pushed two fingers in you effortlessly, curling them to touch that spongy part in you that made you cry out in pleasure, and the stimulation was too much, the coil in you close to snapping again, your hips grinding on his face roughly. The animalistic moan he let out pushed you over the edge, and you squirted on his face, down his chin and nose and he laughed proudly as he licked it all off. 

“That’s my good girl.”

“How about we watch a bit of the movie and then I fuck you again?” 

You laughed as he made his way next to you and you cuddled up close to his chest. 

“Yes…daddy.”

════════════════════════════════════

Your family was in a tizzy today, preparations unfolding all around you for your upcoming trip, that you were supposed to leave for any minute now. It wasn’t going to be a particularly long trip, but it was definitely an important one, one that had you giddy with happiness and excitement. You were already packed, the clothes, gifts and medical supplies once more tucked away at the back of Norm and Max’s helo, both of whom were accompanying you, as well. Although never quite part of the people, both of the scientists were honorary Na’vi at this point, their continuous support, love and care for this planet and all its inhabitants not gone unnoticed, even within the Metkayina clan, who have taken a liking to the two. 

“Kiri, don’t forget the thing, the thing…” Jake was pointing aggressively on the floor at something by his daughter’s legs, and you laughed at how nervous he seemed. It was endearing and a little surprising, seeing how Jake was usually quite stoic and well put-together, especially when it came to his two boys. That has changed in the past few months since you returned home, the distance that always existed between himself and either one son or the other softening his rough edges, making him more open and affectionate to both of them. You guess it was true what they said, after all - absence does make the heart grow fonder. 

With one last smile in their direction, you quietly exited the tent and got up on your ikran, who cooed softly in your direction. She has been particularly gentle and tender with you recently, and you couldn’t tell if her having laid tiny ikran baby eggs was the reason behind it, or just general happiness and gratitude at your decision to return her to her home. Either way, you were grateful, and so, so excited to meet her babies when they were going to be here, fantasising about the idea that her babies and your own would one day be united, the same way you were. 

“Let’s go, baby girl. There’s one last stop I need to make before we leave.”

You got to the Tree of Souls easy enough, having visited so often recently you could make the trip with your eyes closed. You swore it would never be as long as it used to be for you to visit your parents, for you to keep in touch, to see them and talk to them, to make sure they knew they were missed and not forgotten. You wanted them to be part of your journey, in a way they never could before, and you were happy to say that regardless what was happening in your life, you came once a week without fail, nothing able to keep you away. 

The cove wasn’t desolate, several Na’vi lost among the tendrils, connecting to their ancestors, to their loved ones, to people they lost. You greeted each of them, all of them looking at you almost in awe, at the girl whose parents came from the stars, who stole the Toruk Makto son’s heart, who cured an illness that pillaged from them, that took away so many Na’vi men, women and children, including some of the people that were being visited today. 

You chose a part of the tree than was unoccupied, and connected your queue to one of the mauve tendrils swinging gently in the breeze. You were immediately transported in a place you were now very familiar with, your mother’s old house back on Earth. The humid heat hit you instantly, as did the smell of the ocean and the cold breeze that pushed sand into your nose and eyes, and you took a second to take it all in, as you always did, the beauty of Earth, so different and yet so similar to Pandora, always a treat, always worth the extra few minutes of reflection. You pushed the fence door and made your way to the house on the broken cobblestone path, and smiled as the sound of a piano playing could be faintly heard from inside. You didn’t bother to knock, and took your time walking through the narrow hallway, looking at all the photos that were hanging on the walls, a lot more than you remembered from your first visit, including new ones, one of you, human and grown up, in between your two parents that were smiling widely at the camera. Photos of you in the living room you were currently walking towards, playing piano and dancing with your father, propped with your feet on his as he swung you around. Photos of your mother rolling her eyes as she was caught mid-cooking, and a photo of your parents kissing on the beach, taken by you (you assumed) without them knowing. They were beautiful, so beautiful, just like they were. 

“Bunny! You came!” Your mum got up from the couch as soon as you entered and ran to your side, hugging you loosely so as to not hurt you. 

“Of course I came. Don’t I always come?” 

“Yes, but we expected you in a couple of days.”

“I can’t come in a couple of days, ma. We are leaving for Awa’atlu soon, remember?” 

“Ah, yes!!” Your mum face-palmed herself and you laughed at her. She was a little ditzy, you realised. You never realised that as a kid, but it was blatant now, more so by the week. Your dad joined in the laughter and came by your side, placing a small kiss on your cheek. 

“Hi, love. Are you excited for the journey?” 

“Eh, not for the journey, but definitely for the occasion. Thank you for the gift idea. He’s going to love it.” 

“Of course, bunny. How often does Lo’ak get to take his Iknimaya and become a man?” 

“Well, hopefully just the one.” 

They both laughed in unison at your joke. 

“I can’t believe how much he’s grown. God, he used to drive Jake crazy when he was a toddler, he would just run and run and crawl through tight spaces, where Jake could never fit through. He was an angel when Neytiri was around, but as soon as she left, he terrorised his dad. Poor Jake hasn’t had a good night sleep since the second Lo’ak came out of Neytiri.” 

“Well, that hasn’t really chanced. But he’s bigger now, so he’s easier to catch.”

The laughter was music to your ears, and you dreaded knowing you’d have to leave soon and not see them for at least a week.

“Where’s little, puny me?”

“Don’t call her that.” Your mum frowned at you, and you snickered at her face. You and… well, you, got along fine most of the time, but you realised that you were incredibly annoying and having to see yourself every week made you more appreciative for Neteyam and his never-ending patience. 

“She’s taking a walk on the beach. She loves doing that. She’ll be sad she missed you… and this little belly… I could just eat you, you know?” 

“It’s not that little anymore.” 

You placed your hands over your mother’s on your belly that was becoming exponentially larger by the day, and she squealed when she felt kicking meeting her palms. 

“Oh my God, do you feel that?” 

“Of course I feel that, mum.”

She scoffed at you, but she was too excited to rebut, too busy taking your dad’s hand and placing it where hers was. The baby kicked again and you winced, and felt the sudden urge to pee. 

“I need to go. We have to leave soon. I’ll be back as soon as I can, ok? Tell her I said hi, and that she better catch up on all the songs I learnt after I died.” 

“Bye, bunny. Say hi to Lo’ak and the rest of the family for us.” 

When you came out of the vision, you felt arms circling you, and you smiled as Neteyam’s familiar scent filled your every sense. 

“Hi.”

“Hi, Atan.” He was pressing small kisses down you neck, while his hands wandered on your body, from your breast, now full and barely covered by your increasingly small tops down to your belly, and he gasped silently when he felt the same kicking your parents did. 

“He’s kicking! Oh, Great Mother, he’s kicking!” He took you by the shoulder and spun you around and you laughed a little as the action made you dizzy. 

“We don’t know it’s a he yet, yawne.”

“I know.” You raised an eyebrow at him, but said no more, and watched as he lowered himself to your belly and looked at it in adoration, like he was venerating it, venerating you. 

“Hi, ma ‘itan. Be gentle to your ma, deal? We don’t want to hurt her.” He showered you in kisses until you melted in his touch, and by the time he reached your face, you were panting and in need. Neteyam groaned as the smell of your arousal hit him. 

“Atan, we have to get going, my dad’s already out of his mind with worry and excitement, and my mum keeps packing food, to the point the ikran are going to drown in the sea because of the overbearing load. We are the only sane ones in the family now, we have to act like it.” 

You threw your head back and laughed heartily, at his words, and at his tone that sounded serious, not an ounce of humour in it. 

“Fine. But when I’m hot and bothered for three days during the trip there, I don’t want to hear you complain.” 

Suffice it to say you were late to get going. 

════════════════════════════════════

As you spotted the familiar island of Awa’atlu, you heard the beautiful horn announcing your arrival, and felt emotion overtake your being at the thought of seeing your brother and Tsireya, as well as the leaders of the clan after so long. It’s been a few months since you have left, and although Neytiri and Jake have come here in that time, you have not. You were excited to see Lo’ak’s reaction at your news, and excited to watch him become a man, be born again as a member of the reef clan, that was now his forever home. 

You saw him before making out anybody else, his deeper blue skin sticking out like a sore thumb among the Metkayina. You jumped off from Neyn before she even landed, and you heard Neteyam and Neytiri both hiss at your recklessness. You were too busy to care, running as fast as you still could and wrapping your arms around Lo’ak’s neck in a tight hug. The younger man was too stunned to say anything, so stunned that his arms remained motionless by the sides of his body. 

“Hug me, you skxawng.” 

“Angel…what?!”

You scowled at him until his eyebrows dropped and his eyes softened, his open mouth curling in a soft smile, one you knew too well, one you loved so much. 

“Hi, Angel.”

“Surprise?” 

He pushed you a little and kept you at arms length as he inspected you, placing a hand on your belly. 

“How long have you been gone? You look like you’re about to pop.”

“You’re such a dick, Lo’ak.” 

“I’m kidding, Angel. I can’t believe this. I’m so happy. So, so happy. This is the best present you could have ever gotten me.”

“Oh, ok, then, I guess I’ll just leave the solar-powered projector loaded with all your favourite movies and tv shows in the helo.”

“WHAT?! ARE YOU SERIOUS?”

“Why are you more excited about that than being an uncle??” 

“Can I use the baby as a projector? Didn’t think so.” 

“Sing for us, Angel. You didn’t bring your guitar all this way to keep it by your side all night.”

“Fine, but only if after, Tsireya can translate everything I sing.”

“Ha, she’ll kick your ass, you’ll see.”

“Hey, I might be pregnant, but I will still kick your ass if you keep annoying me.”

“I see the glow of motherhood didn’t do wonders on your temper.” 

“Lo’ak… she will hurt you if you keep going.” Neteyam sighed, rolling his eyes in his baby brother’s direction. 

“Fine, fine. Just sing, Angel, please?” 

You looked at your mate who was eyeing you lovingly and strummed a song you knew he’d know, you knew he’d love. You saw his eyes go wide and then settled on a look of wonderment and euphoria, a look you’ve seen a lot of recently. You gave him a wink before you started singing.

We were in the backseat, drunk on something stronger than the drinks in the bar

"I rent a place on Cornelia Street”, I say casually in the car

We were a fresh page on the desk, filling in the blanks as we go

As if the street lights pointed in an arrowhead, leading us home

I hope I never lose you, hope it never ends

I'd never walk Cornelia Street again

That's the kind of heartbreak time could never mend

I'd never walk Cornelia Street again

It was a sweet reunion, one you desperately needed, and as you spent the night catching up by the fire, Neteyam’s arms wrapped around you and the sounds of your family laughing and chatting away filling your ears, you felt lucky for everything good in your life, that overwhelmingly outweighed the bad, and hopeful for the future and all the beauty it would bring with it. 

Thank you again for this amazing journey. I love you all x

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

#neteyam #neteyam x human!reader #neteyam x reader #neteyam fanfic #neteyam reader #neteyam sully #avatar #avatar twow #avatar fanfic #neteyam x avatar!reader #neteyam sully fanfiction #neteyam angst #awow #awow neteyam #avatar loak #jake sully #dilf jake sully #sully!reader #sully family x reader #sully family x sully!reader #neteyam avatar #avatar fanfiction

[smol-guppy-wuppy]

Something that I've had in the works! My resident evil fantasy au is finally here!!! Now I need y'all to know I don't have everything entirely figured out, but I wanted to share what I had so far. The idea mainly came to be because I wanted a knight version of my resident evil oc, Quinn. And I just decided to add to that by making Leon a prince and here we are lol. I do think I'll have Chris and Claire as some kind of royalty along with Leon (not totally sure yet), but a lot of the other characters are undecided. Do feel free to leave suggestions if you'd like!

Down below after the references I've drawn is what I've written about how Quinn and Leon meet! I plan on writing more scenarios with how their relationship progresses (as this is the main point of this au) but if I get ideas for other characters I'll probably write those too!! I have more of a rambling bit of writing about Quinn and how they become a knight so if anyone shows interest in this as a whole I'll consider posting it.

Anyways I hope anyone reading enjoys this silly little thing of mine :)

Leon's breath hitched as he just barely dodged the claws of the unruly beast before him. “Shit—” He choked out.

He had certainly bitten off more than he could chew when he decided to go on this little adventure of his. Running away to free himself from the solitude of the castle seemed like a good idea at the time. Now? He wasn't so sure. He thought he'd be okay if he brought a sword with him, but his knowledge of how to properly wield one only went so far.

Before he could dwell on the situation anymore, another swipe at him caused him to stumble back with a yelp. He haphazardly swung his sword in an attempt to ward the creature off, though it didn't seem like the thing was going to give up anytime soon. Poor Leon was having trouble finding any sort of opening to escape as he was backed towards a large tree. A low growl escaped the creature as it prepared to lunge toward him, but before it could pounce, an abrupt roar made it lurch back in surprise.

The sound made Leon's stomach drop while his eyes darted to the direction from which the noise came. “What now—” He murmured to himself, his anxiety skyrocketing at that moment as his grip on his weapon tightened.

Another beast emerged from the brush and posted itself in front of Leon with a snarl. An armored figure hopped off of the beast and stood before the monster Leon was originally faced with. A knight? Leon thanked the gods for their arrival.

The figure quickly raised a sword towards the beast, and the creature bared its teeth at them, seemingly ready to pounce.

With a low rumble, the beast barreled towards the figure, to which they parried back with their shield. With the opening available, they struck the creature, causing it to yowl in pain. The pain only seemed to anger it, and it lunged to attack the figure once more. The knight continued to dodge and parry the beast, slashing at it when given the opportunity. Their companion that they rode in on stood by Leon, seeming to protect him as its owner fought the beast.

Leon merely watched in awe as the figure easily went against the creature that was much larger than themselves. The flow of their movements was so elegant and graceful, almost like a dance that Leon couldn't help but be enchanted by.

Soon enough, with one final blow, the beast was slain, disappearing in a puff of smoke. The figure let out a low exhale before sheathing their sword and turning to face Leon. He looked at them, his eyes growing wide upon noticing how pretty they were. They gave him a pointed look, not seeming to realize just how hard he was staring at them. He was still in silent awe, and a small scoff escaped them as they placed a hand on their hip. “What the hell was that?” They huffed out.

Leon didn't quite comprehend what was said, which caused them to wave a hand in front of his face. “Hello, earth to prince?”

Those words seemed to bring him back to reality as he sputtered out a quick apology. The knight rolled their eyes and let out a small sigh. “Do you think you can answer my question now? What the hell was that?”

Leon gave them a look of surprise and tilted his head. “I'm— I'm sorry? What do you mean?” He asked, looking akin to a confused puppy.

Another sigh came from the knight as they shook their head and pointed to his sword. “That. I was observing a bit before jumping in, and well— I'd assume you'd bring a weapon knowing how to use it, but from what I watched, that's certainly not the case,” They said with a look of clear judgment.

The prince stammered for a moment, having been caught off guard by their observation. “I— I know how to use it!” He tried to defend himself.

Yet the knight saw right through him and couldn't help but chuckle. “Yeah? Why don't you show me then? Spar me,” They commanded.

Leon looked at them incredulously. What was this knight's deal? He wasn't sure, but he gave a firm shake of his head. “What? I'm not going to spar you!”

His response made the knight roll their eyes. They gestured him forward with a wave of their hand. “Just draw your sword and humor me. What do you have to lose?”

My dignity, Leon thought with a frown. They didn't seem like they were going to back down, so with a low huff, the prince drew his sword. This made the knight grin. Their eyes scanned his form and they couldn't help but let out a light chuckle.

They pointed to the grip he had on the sword. “For starters, you're not holding it right. If you hold it that way, you're more likely to hurt yourself. Here, let me show you how you should be doing it.” With that, they unsheathed their own sword, demonstrating how he should hold both the weapon and himself. Once they looked at him expectantly, Leon hesitantly fixed his stance and waited for further instructions.

The knight gave a nod of their head. “Good. Now show me how you’d go in for an attack.”

The prince took a quick breath before he lunged towards them, to which they easily sidestepped and evaded him. “Too slow,” They commented.

Leon let out a huff before reevaluating and moving in to attack once more. The knight chuckled and blocked the blow with their weapon. This little dance didn't last long before a particular attack had the knight grinning.

“A little too fast there. You're unbalanced. Which means—” They swept his feet with their own, instantly knocking him down on his rear. This left them the opportunity to get a hold of his weapon, which ended up pointed at his face as the knight looked down at him.

Leon looked up at them, almost pouting. “That wasn't fair!”

They merely rolled their eyes and helped him back up, handing him his sword. “This isn't about fairness. It's about survival. Monsters like what you faced today? They don't do fair. And what you just further proved to me is that you truly do not know how to survive on your own. If I hadn't been here today, you could have very well died. You need to realize that and not try to pull a stunt like this ever again.”

The prince let out a huff and crossed his arms. “Who are you to tell me such things? I don't even know your name.”

The knight ignored his words for the moment and gestured to their furry companion, who had been patiently watching the two up until now. The creature approached the two with a low rumble, something akin to a purr.

Leon couldn't help but back up slightly, feeling unsure of the beast. The knight noticed this and chuckled. “Well, I'm Xir Oberlin, but just address me as Quinn. And while you didn't ask, this creature that you know as a mewnick is my partner, Moo. Now that we have that out of the way, come. I need to get you back to the castle.” They patted the saddle that sat on their companion. “You do know how to ride a horse, don't you? Because this is practically the same thing.” They jabbed at him, lightly teasing his inexperience in wielding weapons in relation to his other abilities.

A small scoff left Leon, and he crossed his arms. “Of course I do! How do you think I got all the way out here? My horse just got spooked once the monsters showed up. But listen, I don't want to go back. Can't you just, I don't know—hide me or something?”

The knight couldn't help but snort at his words. “Oh, absolutely not. I have a job to do, and that job is to bring you back home safely. Now come along; the king and queen have been worried sick about you.”

The prince stood his ground with a firm “no,” not budging.

This made Quinn sigh and turn to him, their hands on their hips. “If you don't come willingly, I'll have Moo here carry you by the scruff like a kitten,” They threatened.

Leon merely remained planted in place, which made them gesture Moo to him. The mewnick immediately understood and drew closer to Leon. The prince stumbled back, but before he could act, the creature grabbed onto him, practically dragging him in the process. A yelp escaped him as he squirmed in Moo’s grasp. “Okay, okay! I'll go, just call your little partner off!”

Quinn grinned triumphantly and gave a sharp whistle, signaling for Moo to set the prince down.

Once he was set down, Leon grumbled and brushed himself off. The knight hopped onto Moo and patted the space behind them. “Well, come on then! It's time for you to go home.”

With a drawn-out sigh, Leon begrudgingly followed after them. He hesitated a moment when it came to climbing up onto Moo, but with the knight's reassurance, he did so easily.

Once Leon was settled in, Quinn gave Moo a gentle nudge to get him trekking along.

The ride was quiet, and the two were lost in their own worlds as they trudged along in silence. Leon’s gaze was focused on the scenery before him, but he soon found his eyes drifting over to the knight that sat in front of him. His thoughts trailed over to their “sparring match," if he could even call it that. He had learned only a few things from his friend, Chris. It was the reason he had a sword to begin with. Although it had been a long time since Leon had seen him, which explained why his skills were lacking. With this in mind, the prince had an idea.

“Could you teach me how to wield a sword? You know, properly?” He asked, breaking the silence.

Quinn kept their eyes ahead of them, but raised a questioning eyebrow. “What? Apologies, but I don't have the time for such things. I was assigned to find you and bring you home, that's it. I'm a very busy knight, otherwise.”

Leon was about to open his mouth in protest, but the knight sensed he’d try to argue, so they were quick to shut him down. “The answer is no, your highness. No ifs, ands, or buts about it,” They stated plainly.

The prince let out an exaggerated sigh before leaning closer towards them. “Come on, it wouldn’t take long! I promise I’m a fast learner!"

Quinn merely rolled their eyes. “The answer is still no. Heaven forbid me being responsible for you running away again if I teach you how to defend yourself,” They huffed out.

This made Leon frown. Of course they had immediately catch onto him. Though, maybe he could convince them otherwise?

“What if—”

“No.”

“At least let me—”

“No.”

“Come on, please—”

"Oh, look we're here! C’mon, Moo.” They urged the creature to move faster, which made Leon almost fall backwards.

With a small yelp, he lurched forward, his arms wrapping around Quinn in hopes of steadying himself.

It only took a few moments before the two were faced with the castle gates. Quinn quickly patted one of Leon’s hands with a small huff. “You can let go now.”

Upon realizing they had stopped, the prince sputtered out an apology before releasing them from his grasp. The both of them dismounted Moo, and Quinn petted his head before they waved Leon forward. “Come along; I was told to escort you directly to your parents.”

The prince couldn't help but sigh at their words, but made no protest. He silently followed Quinn into the castle, encountering much of the staff praising and thanking them for bringing their prince back. Their words made Leon roll his eyes internally, but outside he offered the simplest of smiles.

It wasn't long before he and the knight arrived at the throne room. Before Quinn could even say a word about their arrival, the queen noticed the two and rushed over to embrace her son.

“Leon, thank goodness you're alright!”

The prince was surprised by her quick actions and was stiff for a moment before he hesitantly returned her affections. Even while tightly embracing her son, the queen couldn't help but look at the knight who brought him back home. “Thank you so very much, Xir Oberlin, for bringing our son home.”

Quinn gave a bow in acknowledgement. “It was my pleasure, your majesty. I'm happy to have helped. Now if it's alright, I'll see myself out.”

“No, no, do stay,” Came the voice of the king.

Quinn remained. Although confused, they complied without question.

When Leon’s mother released him, his eyes drifted over to his father, who looked less than pleased with him. The king stood, arms crossed, as his gaze moved from the knight back to his son. “Leon, are you aware of just how worried we were? To find out you ran away without a single thought as to what could happen to you?”

“Father, I—”

The king brought a hand up to silence him. “I don't want to hear any sort of excuses from you. You've already caused enough trouble with your antics lately, but this? This is not something that is to be taken lightly.”

He then gestured for his wife to come stand by his side once more. The queen silently complied, and he gently grabbed her hand as they both looked at their son.

“Which is why your mother and I have decided that it would be best to have someone watching over you at all times, so you don't ever think of doing something like this again. Someone who will keep you in check at every given moment.”

The king’s eyes shifted over to the knight, who had been silent the whole time. “We'd like for that person to be you, Xir Oberlin.”

“What?” Both Leon and Quinn uttered at the same time. Expressions of shock fell upon their faces as they were given this news.

The queen gave a nod of her head. “That's right... You, Xir Oberlin, are the best of the best. You've done so much for our kingdom already, I know, but we wouldn't feel comfortable trusting anyone else with such a task. I understand we are asking a lot of you, but we do hope that you accept.”

Leon looked at his parents incredulously. “And if I don't accept? I don't want anyone following me around like I am some child that needs taking care of!” He argued.

The king merely scoffed at his words. “You should know better than to think you have a choice in the matter.”

Quinn's gaze moved back and forth between the two. The last thing they wanted was to be stuck in the middle of family affairs they had no business being a part of, but at the same time they knew this was all because the king and queen truly were worried for their son. And the knight was all too familiar with the worries of a parent.

With a deep breath, they made up their mind. Their eyes shifted towards the prince, who was clearly unhappy with the situation. “I understand your frustration with this, your majesty, but your parents merely wish to ensure your safety. Who am I to deny them such security?”

Leon’s widened as Quinn’s attention refocused on the king and queen. “I accept this responsibility wholeheartedly,” They said with a bow.

The queen was the one to speak up, her face glowing with appreciation. “Thank you, Xir Oberlin. Your efforts will certainly not go unrewarded. You're to be given a room here in the castle, and your comfort will be ensured. Any assistance you may need settling in shall be provided. The process will start first thing in the morning, if that's alright with you.”

Quinn gave a firm nod of their head. “Yes, of course. Thank you for entrusting me with such an important task.”

“Thank you for accepting, Xir Oberlin. You are now dismissed. Rest well tonight,” The king replied, clearly grateful.

The knight offered another small bow and smile before turning to leave. Leon, who had been silent since Quinn's acceptance, watched them leave with an unreadable expression. Part of him was upset with the outcome, but at the same time, he was thankful in a sense. He could tell Quinn accepted because they truly did care, not for the monetary benefits or accommodations, but for the feelings his parents had over his safety.

There was something truly admirable about the way they carried themselves, and Leon couldn't help but be drawn to that in some way.

Despite not liking the idea of having to be babysat, perhaps having them around wouldn't be so bad.

#leon s kennedy #resident evil fanart #resident evil #resident evil oc #resident evil art #resident evil au #resident evil fantasy au #art stuff #leon kennedy #leon kennedy x oc #leon scott kennedy

[angelinthefire]

Solitudes: director's commentary

So this is a thing I do now, post commentary on my fics. I've been sitting on this fic for a long time and I'm excited to finally talk about it!

Read the fic here

Chapter 1

The title of this fic is a reference to “Two Solitudes”, a novel which I’ve never read, but which is a point of reference for Canadian political science, about the fundamental division between Quebec and English Canada, and the two never being able to connect or understand the experience of the other.  And that’s one of the inspirations for this fic, exploring the degree to which Dean and Cas understand each other and misunderstand each other, and their attempts to communicate what they want from their relationship.  I do believe that Dean and Cas understand each other and connect and relate to each other to a large extent, and far better than some fans give them credit for. Sometimes I see the “Don’t go/Ask me to stay” dynamic exaggerated to an extent that I believe no longer makes sense, given their friendship.  At the same time, there is an underlying tension and disconnect between them. They don’t have a perfect understanding of each other. And that still matters quite a lot. 

The other source of inspiration for this is that I haven’t written anything where Dean is the one with a handle on his feelings and wants to initiate something, since like 2013. And that I’ve never written anything set in season 12, despite that season having the perfect setup for Dean and Cas getting together.  And I was thinking, how do I push things further than what happened on the show? I usually like my fic to feel very situated in canon, and since Dean and Cas didn’t actually get together in s12, something else would have to happen, something to push Dean over the edge. Something that would also push Cas to make a realization.  So that’s how I ended up with the idea to lock Dean and Cas in a room together, with Dean thinking that Cas is dead, and Cas unable to do anything but watch. In my head, the alternate title for this story is “The Pear Jiggler fic”. Just stick them in a box and fuck with them. We also often talk about how Cas never gets to see how Dean reacts when he dies, so that was a fun thing to do as well.  And I just love a good bottle episode. Something that’s just all character-driven. 

In terms of characterization, one thing that’s very important to me is that Cas knows that Dean cares about him. He’s not some poor soul who thinks he’s on thin ice all the time, or thinks that he has to be useful to be loved. He understands that Dean cares, but the misunderstanding is the degree to which Dean needs him in his life.  Cas does have a drive to be useful, to solve problems, but it’s internally motivated. He has to prove that he’s useful for himself, not for Dean. Even when Dean gets pissed at him, Cas doesn’t take it too, too personally, because he does still know that he’s important to Dean.

For Dean, the emphasis is really on the way he retreats when threatened, emotionally. When he behaves badly, it’s partially because he’s worried, but also as a defence mechanism. He only puts words to his feelings when he has nothing left to lose. 

It’s been a while since I’ve written a version of Cas that wasn’t fully tuned in to his feelings for Dean. One of the more fun things about this angsty fic was having Cas thinking about Dean wistfully, and not imagining that Dean might be in love with him, or that his feelings are anything other than friendship.  I guess the other option was to write mutual pining, Dean and Cas both being aware of their feelings but neither realizing the other feels the same way. But for me, the realization that what they feel is love is a really fun part of the story, so I wanted that moment for at least one of them.  Of course, Dean isn’t fully there yet either. Like he knows, but he’s not 100% there. But it’s just caution that’s holding him back. A lot of the time in fic, when it’s Dean’s POV and he knows he’s in love with Cas, there’s a whole big self esteem thing that holds him back. And I never really buy that. Plus it’s unnecessary.

I’ve noticed that in a lot of my fics, I get Dean out of the driver’s seat of the Impala, or out of the Impala entirely. It is about getting him into a new situation, making him feel off-kilter in some way. Switching up the status-quo. 

I’ve been playing the Sims quite a bit, mostly building homes, and therefore looking at a lot of fancy real estate postings for inspiration. I find brutalist architecture quite compelling in its own right. I wanted a setting that feels foreboding, but still like a place where someone might actually have lived. A room with very little in it that could provide distraction. And a space where light plays an important role, which it does in brutalist buildings, I think. I do find it unlikely that a desk and chair would have survived, but Dean needed something to smash up, so. And the fountain wall is there to create a sense that the building is being taken over by something, it has something growing in it. 

The monster itself isn’t consciously based on anything. It’s what it needs to be for the story. Whatever lore I made up only exists to support its function in the story. Even the way Sam kills it, just serves to underline that it’s unique and powerful, and therefore able to keep Cas contained.

Chapter 2

I didn’t have the idea to do the split-screen until I was well into planning the fic. To emphasize the division between Dean and Cas, their mismatched perspectives. For a second I considered just having two unbroken columns, so that the reader would have to decide when/if to go back and forth, but that would have been kind of confusing. And ultimately, Cas is reacting to Dean, so you need to keep going back to Dean to understand Cas.  I wrote Dean’s side first, as the independent variable. Deciding where to break, and switch to Cas was a bit of a back-and-forth process, because it had to work both in terms of story and in terms of rhythm.  One thing I liked about this is that I didn’t have to decide whose POV to write in. Unless a story is strictly one character’s POV I usually plan out scenes from both of their perspectives and then decide which one is better to take for the story, and sometimes that can be kind of tough. 

Of course, the entire conceit of this scenario is that it’s a metaphor for their relationship. Or it takes the tension in their relationship and brings it to the next level. They’re together, but there’s something preventing them from fully connecting. They understand each other, but they misunderstand each other at the same time. And it’s by making that disconnect physical that they start to kind of be able to deal with it. Because it gives Cas a perspective on Dean that he didn’t have before. They don’t fully resolve their problems by the end, and to be honest I wouldn’t want them to. But they make some progress. 

I had fun with the imagery for this. Dean and Cas sharing the same space, being separated by light, and by illusion.

Dean’s alcoholism figures very heavily in this. But it is not addressed as a problem for him to overcome. I neither feel equipped to write a story about alcoholism per se, nor do I want to. A running theme throughout a few of my fics is that Dean and Cas do not fix each other. They keep being the same fucked up guys. And I think getting Dean to a place where he wants to deal with his substance abuse problems would require a lot more story behind it. 

The withdrawal is there to make things that much more horrible for Dean, not to actually deal with alcoholism as an issue.. And it adds an extra sense of threat. I didn’t do a ton of research on what happens when someone goes through withdrawal, I just looked up a timeline for symptoms (it can start after just six hours! I didn’t know that before). And I confirmed that someone could die from withdrawal. 

For Dean, chapter 2 is about making him sit with his misery. Unlike every other time he’s lost Cas on the show, there’s nothing to distract him here. And that’s one of the things that pushes him to vocalize his thoughts and feelings..  As well, anger, guilt, fear and love are all very much intertwined for Dean. And that’s accentuated by the situation. So he says “I hate you” before he says “I love you.” But then, as his motivation to survive kind of drains away, his defensive instincts do as well. 

For Cas, it was about forcing him to accept that things are outside of his control. There’s no more desperate moves, he can’t throw himself on his sword. Like Dean, there’s nothing to distract him, he’s forced to stop and reflect on what’s happening. He has to face what he means to Dean.  When Cas says “I’m not worth it” - that’s something that came up when I was freewriting dialogue and it just felt right. But I spend zero time unpacking it. Again, it’s one of those things - Dean and Cas are both fucked up, they both have their problems, and this experience doesn’t change that. In fact, it probably makes him worse. Another aspect of Cas’ powerlessness is how he relates to his human body. Not having it, or not being able to use it, makes him more possessive over it. 

Still on the topic of Dean and Cas not being able to fix each other, you see that when Dean says he’s in love with Cas, and it finally clicks for Cas. It doesn’t solve anything.  I did really want to make the point that the two of them being in love doesn’t change anything in terms of their plans or obligations. And it doesn’t really change much about how they relate to each other either. I’ve said before that their friendship and their romance are indistinguishable imo. And the other side of that is that Dean and Cas are both more than their relationship, and the pressures and stresses they face mostly come from outside their relationship (which is a fact that fans lose sight of sometimes). Whether they’re officially In Love or not, they want to be together, but there’s other forces, both internal and external, keeping them apart. 

I hope Dean lying down with Cas’ dead body works. It’s super melodramatic, but it’s also kind of gruesome and I like that. I also love the idea of Cas being jealous of the illusion of his dead body. 

Chapter 3

A dynamic that I really like in storytelling is when The Big Event in the story is not the thing that pushes the characters towards the resolution, but it primes them for the next little thing tipping them over. I do that here, and I kind of do that in Life Skills too. It feels more real to me, and it creates more space to explore the ending imo. So Dean tries to go back to normal!

The fight in the parking lot was probably the scene that was the most fun to write. Like it’s still frustrating and angsty, but it’s kind of funny too. 

And yeah, Cas still feels trapped. The repetition of the gray and green imagery reflects that. He still feels powerless, and it just takes one more shove to get him to open up about it.

Dean has a bit of an impulse to be controlling here. First of all, because I do think it’s in character, but also because I think it’s fun. Like I don’t like to go super-toxic with Dean and Cas, but there’s a measure of toxicity. Again, they keep being fucked up. For Dean, I just touch on it briefly, but I think one aspect of his upbringing is that love has to be proven. Like, he loved his father, so he did what was asked of him. If Cas loved Dean, then he would do what Dean asked of him - this is the main concept that underlies my read of Dean’s reaction to Cas collaborating with Crowley in s7.  For Cas’ part, he doesn’t really register that there’s anything wrong with Dean’s behaviour, or he reads in the best intentions. Which is a fun idea to me. 

I really grappled with whether or not to have a sex scene as part of the resolution. It felt formulaic to do so. There wasn’t a story that I wanted to tell with their sex. But on the other hand, I know there would have been a time when I would have been disappointed to read something like this and not get a sex scene out of it. They go through such intense emotions, it only seems fair to the reader. Ultimately it came down to the fact that there wasn’t anything else that I wanted to say about Dean and Cas. 

I kind of grappled with the end in general. Usually, I write fic with a particular ending in mind. For this one, the journey was the focus more than the ending. But I think the ambiguity works. Nothing is fixed, but they’re trying.

And that’s what listening to the tape at the end is about. The tape is Dean’s way of trying to communicate with Cas. But Cas didn’t really get it before. Now Dean is trying to help him to understand. I considered including lyrics at the end. But the scene isn’t about the lyrics, the lyrics could be anything, it’s about the fact of them listening together.

#spn #supernatural #destiel #deancas #by mi #solitudes

[liketwoswansinbalance]

Update and More Facts about The One True School Master of Vault 41

The Update:

I've finally been doing more transferring of my notes and partly-written, unordered scenes into one document, so things are in chronological order. Thus far, draft zero of TOTSMOV41 has reached approximately 151 pages, or, by its word count, 48,042 words. Although, a lot of the document is made up of my extraneous notes, so it's not all actually story.

⸻

The Facts:

The fic will have various epigraphs, and one of them is a Japeth quote.

There will be no true epilogue because I'm leaving room for sequel potential.

After the Wizard Tree business unfolds at the Bank of Putsi, the vast majority of the fic is set at the Schools.

I haven't exactly decided on a structure for TOTSMOV41 yet, so it might either consist of a triumvirate of "parts," with each section being exceptionally long, working like a triptych of sorts, or it will be broken up into more traditional chapters, possibly of varying lengths. My plan, once the whole fic is done, would be to post a section per week or so.

Does anyone have an opinion on the structure? At the moment, I'm leaning toward having three, massive sections because it makes the most sense narratively, especially with regards to time and settings, and could flow better.

That said, unless anything changes drastically, the title of part one or chapter one will be: "Of Solipsism, Sophistry, and Storians."

Originally, it was "Of Sophistry and Storians," which I thought was more compact, and it had a better ring to it while more directly featuring the "balance" between "Sophie" and "Storian" that may be present. Yet, ultimately, the longer title proved more accurate to the contents of that part.

The other two parts are tentatively titled: "Great Mistake II and Great Mistake III" and "Phantoms, Prescience, and the Pen."

Also, for your reference, if needed, I've synthesized definitions from various sources:

Solipsism (n) = the quality of being very self-centered or selfish, or, in philosophy, the view or theory that the self is all that can be known to exist, that what's in your mind is the only reality that can be known and verified. Solipsism comes from the Latin words for alone (sol) and self (ipse), and means that only the self is real. Alternatively, it implies excessive regard for oneself and one's own interests, to the exclusion of others; preoccupation with oneself; extreme selfishness, centeredness, or self-absorption. Also in a neutral sense: isolation, solitude.

Sophistry (n) =

-The use of specious but fallacious arguments, especially with the intention of deceiving.

-The deliberate use of fallacious reasoning, intellectual charlatanism, and moral unscrupulousness.

-Subtly deceptive reasoning or argumentation.

-Reasoning or arguments that sound correct but are actually false.

-Cunning, trickery, craft.

The entire fic technically takes place over the span of approximately one day, or less than a day, really. It's more like several hours have passed, not days or weeks. Though, it's not as insane as you'd think, probably. Well, the plot itself is insane, admittedly.

Although, perception-wise, to the characters, and experientially, to readers, it will feel as if it all takes place over weeks, instead of a single day. Time flows differently within the crystal, and the broken crystal ball condenses time, and so, whilst in the crystal, Agatha, Sophie, and Rafal experience far more than what several hours would allow in reality.

And, it's not quite time travel, even if that's how it may appear. For a particular, currently undisclosed reason, I'm going to call it "psyche travel," by the term I remember Soman using for ACOT.

Lastly, Rafal will come to dread the prospect of nonexistence, which I intend to treat as a concept distinctly separate from death. Not to worry though! It'll be explained eventually.

#school for good and evil #rise of the school for good and evil #agatha of woods beyond #sophie of woods beyond #rafal #rafal mistral #sge #sfgae #the school for good and evil #tsfgae #rotsge #rotsfgae #one true king #my post #my fics #the one true school master of vault 41 #totsmov41

[shadowetienne]

Liminal Spaces, Loneliness, and a Search for Connection in OnlyOneOf's "seOul drift"

I meant to have this written up sooner, but I've had a wildly busy couple of weeks. I've got thoughts about the "seOul drift" MV and its use of liminal spaces and how that corresponds to its description and the ideas of queer loneliness and isolation.

Starting from the MV description, there are a few points made there that I found really important to understanding the depth of the story of the MV (also understanding it in the context of the be series).

"Underneath those lights, there are also young people who’ve been hurt by others and who are wandering along the dotted line of lostness"

"the album captures the stories of Seoul’s loneliness and solitude, and those who are hurt in this city"

"OnlyOneOf always sings about loneliness and pain or the stories of those whose love isn’t blessed. We often simply brush them off as something minor, but they are stories that someone should caress and embrace"

"OnlyOneOf hopes that there will be unknown gods’ blessings in these difficult steps being taken, and that there will be blessings from our fans whom we appreciate and whose names you may not know"

A thing that I think is really interesting in the context of understanding the story that they're telling here is that none of the members are from Seoul. I'm not going anywhere in particular with this point, just contemplating it and letting it spin in my mind.

Moving on from that, we've got a story here that centers in the loneliness of people who have ended up in a big city, Seoul, and feel isolated. A story that shows a lot of search for connection in spaces where they are not quite as isolated. And it's a story that connects to some pretty common queer experiences.

So couple of background thoughts here.

It's very common for young queer adults to try to make their way to the nearest (or perhaps not so near but in some way accessible to them) major city where they know that there at least are other queer people, where they feel like there's a bigger chance of being accepted, or maybe just flying under the radar and not being actively treated badly.

It is hard to connect to people in big cities, especially when you aren't engaging in some sort of specific community. Just existing in a big city doesn't keep your path crossing with the same people over and over necessarily, and because there's so much crowding in big cities, people tend to keep themselves to themselves in public spaces to help allow everyone to have at least some semblance of privacy (obviously there are exceptions to this).

If you've not watched the MV yet, here it is:

We start the MV with members alone: KB driving alone in his car (a very private space even if you see other people from it), Yoojung opening the gate (sort of symbolic of breaking free of something, echoed in the lyrics), Junji wearing his headphones (a pretty common way to create a bubble for yourself in a loud space), Rie walking alone at night carrying his rainbow bag of laundry (alone at night isn't usually a time that you're going to be approaching others out walking), Nine walking to the convenience store alone at night (again with the alone at night), and Mill working in the back during a night shift (only person there and not a time with a lot of customers). These are all people who are shown as isolated to start out with, none of them look particularly happy.

I want to talk about each pair's storyline through the MV because I think that they're examining different possibilities and stories.

Let's start with KB and Yoojung. Yoojung is shown in the phone booth (it comes back again), which during the be series had the connections of being a place that communication can be achieved, and also in begin/be free the visual reference to cruising (interesting in that it also resonates as a car term with the imagery of this MV). This time, Yoojung makes a call, I suspect to KB, and KB comes and picks him up.

Yoojung doesn't look certain about it when he's making that call, doesn't look like he knows if this is going to go anywhere, but he's lonely and he's reaching out and trying to make a connection. There's already something tenuous there, he's got a phone number, but he has no real expectation, just a chance. He looks pretty dejected while he's waiting, but then KB actually shows up. There's something really poignant about that look between them when Yoojung is leaning into the driver's window and KB looks up at him. KB looks surprised almost that Yoojung is real, that this is happening, and he looks so fond. They are showing a possibility, a chance, but both of them are so alone to start with. I think that there's definitely something to come back to with that imagery of Yoojung coming through the gate at the start.

If we are connecting this back to the begin/be free storyline (if this is indeed collecting those experiences), this seems like perhaps a tipping point. A situation where maybe a pair of young adult queer people in the city have met up a few times, had a connection, but they weren't sure if it was just going to be casual or not, and taking the step to go beyond that because one of them actually reached out. This is a connection past just cruising or having something casual that can be really hard to achieve when you feel so isolated.

Moving on to Rie and Junji. First of all, I want to take a second to focus on Rie's bag: queer signaling! A lot of us end up dressing in ways or having accessories that try to make us more recognizable to each other while still having some degree of plausible deniability to the outside world. Rie's rainbow laundry bag feels a lot like queer signaling. It's a thing that makes him visible, but if someone called it out in a negative way, well it's an IKEA bag, it's a convenient size to carry laundry... When we first see them in the same space, Junji has his headphones on, both of them look kind of miserable, and they sit back to back. It isn't hard to imagine here though that they both come to the same laundromat regularly around the same time, that they see each other. They're glancing over their shoulders at each other some during that sitting back to back, like they're curious about each other, but perhaps afraid to break the ice, afraid to breach the zone of well we give each other privacy because we're all here doing something that normally we'd probably want to do in the privacy of our own homes. Rie's bag almost feels like it might be him trying to give an opening, a way to see if this guy he's been seeing in the laundromat who has a very queer coded hairstyle and who also seems lonely might approach him if he gives a sign, that they might be able to make a connection. Rie is also shown in a phone booth making a call (echoing him in the be mine/because storyline) and that feels like he's trying to make a connection, but not necessarily getting there right away.

It clearly works, we see them playing in the laundromat, laughing and joyful and playful with each other. They're still in the very liminal space of a laundromat though, where people have to go and wait for something necessary to happen, something personal but outside of the home. It also again (like the laundry cafe in be mine/because) reminds me of the film My Beautiful Laundrette, which is a queer film that in many ways also shows very lonely people looking for connection, people who have been isolated in part also because of their queerness (I mean, there's a lot more to the film than that, but that's an element).

Finally, Nine and Mill. They are shown in a convenience store/24 hour restaurant of some sort. They're the only ones there, and initially, they are sitting so that the visual framing has the frame of the windows separating them. They're each in their own box, somehow isolated from each other even though they are close together. They do keep glancing at each other though, like they are trying to see if the other is someone that they maybe could form a connection to.

There's no real conclusion of connection for the two of them, just something open ended, something that makes it clear that they are both looking at each other, having that wonder of if they could connect. By the end of the MV, they are both still in that searching and loneliness. We can hope for them, that one of them will have the nerve to say something, to bridge that distance (that they'll catch each other looking), but it's open ended. The space that they're in is also very much a liminal space, one that seems a little bit outside of the bounds of normal things, but also so very normal (it would be completely ordinary in the daytime with people bustling through, but the loneliness of it when it's open late at night echoes the two of them).

So gathering my thoughts a little bit... We've got six young queer adults who are isolated and drifting through their life in Seoul, who are lonely and wanting connection. Yoojung and KB have already started to form a connection, they've got that imagery of breaking free, and Yoojung gets picked up by KB and gets in the car, and there's the look of fondness between them where they are actually connecting and looking at each other. Junji and Rie are communicating through signaling, a very common way of trying to find other queer (and safe) people in an isolating setting (see Rie's bag), and they are able to form a connection tentatively in the liminal space of the laundromat because they are open to receiving that communication, but they are both very alone to start with. Mill and Nine are still looking, still too unsure to bridge the gap, and there's the visual barrier between them even if they seem to be drifting towards each other. There feels like there's hope for a connection there as long as they see each other enough, and are given the time to work up to talking to each other, but in a big city, who knows if they will keep seeing each other.

The feeling of this MV with this song is frenzied and lonely in a way that I think really captures the potential for loneliness despite the sheer amount of humanity around you that can happen in a big city, especially when there's something that you're going through that makes you scared that you'll be rejected (being queer in a place that doesn't tend towards accepting that for example). I do like that the storylines shown give me a sense that they are trying to convey the hope in loneliness as well though.

I am going to make a separate post about the album as a whole because I'm thinking about this idea of queerness and isolation, and how OnlyOneOf is trying to "caress and embrace" those stories and give some level of "blessings" for them and that love.

I've got to put that ending of the description again here because it gives me feelings:

OnlyOneOf always sings about loneliness and pain or the stories of those whose love isn’t blessed. We often simply brush them off as something minor, but they are stories that someone should caress and embrace.

OnlyOneOf hopes that there will be unknown gods’ blessings in these difficult steps being taken, and that there will be blessings from our fans whom we appreciate and whose names you may not know.

#OnlyOneOf #seOul drift MV #queer stuff #yes I'm writing essays on this again #their MVs tell such beautiful poignant queer stories #Youtube

[emotionalhxc]

PART 1: An online Q&A via Instagram with Neptune aka Strawberry Hospital; lots of questions were asked, I thought I'd just put down everything Neptune wrote in one post so it's cherished and remembered ♡ Q: What is Swanksin about? btw i love u and ur music so much!!!! N: "thank you !! that one was written mostly about momentary bliss and a fleeting sense of belonging with another person, drenched in metaphor. it was a gift for somebody at that time musical references included: Undo by Björk and Hasty Boom Alert by μ-ziq" Q: what was the ep grave chimera about? found it back 4 years ago and been a fan since! :) N: "depends on the song to be honest! it was intended to be a summary of traumatic life experiences at that time, told in desperation via musical styles that meant the most to me as a young child. it was also intended to be a s****de (suicide) note of sorts (though I have no intention of that now, nor do I encourage it). I was listening to mostly trancecore, black metal, doom metal, denpa, j-pop and VGM" Q: how do you do itt??????? N: "musically? I started very young at like age 11 so perhaps that provides some advantage but if this is more of an existential question then bro I wonder the same thing every day (joke)" Q: What is A confession, a cadaver about? I love that song!! N: "that was one of the more straightforward songs I've written in terms of lyrical theme. I wanted to write an anthemic guitar centric piece that melodramatically compares having a crush to hiding a dead body idk what I was on about lol" Q: will rhythm be available on streaming services eventually? love your stuff btw :3 N: "absolutely! Rhythm 0 is currently being delivered to all platforms so check back later this week approximately ❤️" Q: also what is phantoma about? N: "it is an empathetic reflection on an abusive figure in early childhood and how effects of their influence can present themselves long term or even shape you into who/what you are" Q: are u still friends w the person u wrote halfawake about? N: "not friends but not enemies! they are doing well and I am proud of them at a distance. that said, strangely the song has become equally applicable to a few figures throughout different stages of my own life" Q: how old are you and whats your favourite album 😇 N: "currently 25! my favorite album is Solitude Freak by Yuyouppe and it shows" Q: Grave chimera might just be the best music project ever. Do you ever feel like it is:))) N: "gosh this is quite the high compliment... you are sweet, and thank you for believing so! I tend to be critical of my own art but putting effort into practicing self affirmations and recognizing my own worth ❤️‍🩹" Q: favorite movie ?? N: (there was a screenshot here of a list of movies so I will just write them down for you) "Doll (2005) Malice@Doll (2001) Mysterious Skin (2004) The Thing (1982) 鉄男 (Tetsuo: The Iron Man) (1989) 銀河鉄道の夜(Night on the galactic railroad) (1985) Puella Magi Madoka Magica (2011) Puella Magi Madoka Magica: The Movie (2013)" Q: do you like owl city? N: "you know it... been listening since I found his music on myspace when I was like 7 years old best albums are Of June and Maybe I'm Dreaming but I don't listen to very much beyond Ocean Eyes"

CONTINUED IN NEXT POST

#strawberry hospital #neptune #emotionalhxc

[shaych03]

Writer Asks

I was tagged by my old friend and Casey/Olivia shenanigans buddy, @dinovia-grant

1. How many works do you have on AO3? A big, fat goose egg, sadly. Somewhere, out there, I have an old site I haven't updated in years. And fic on other sites, but I never migrated them all to AO3. One day, maybe... My ancient website, broken graphics links and all, can be found here: http://xenafiction.net/shaylynnrose/playground.htm Other fics and such that I've written can be found on Passion and Perfection: http://www.ralst.com/

2. What’s your total AO3 word count? unless my comments count, zero.

3. What fandoms do you write for? When I do write, Xena/Gabrielle, Casey/Olivia, Sam/Janet, Janeway/Seven, Emily/JJ, BtVS: Willow/Tara, Willow/Kennedy, Buffy/Amy, Buffy/Faith, Faith/Cordelia, Kate/Elizabeth, Kerry/Kim, as well as my own original characters.

4. What are your top five fics by kudos? Never gotten any kudos, but I think I had the most engagement from Resurrection is for the Unbelievers, simply because I posted it in regular parts back in the LiveJournal days. I know i had a lot of good feedback on the various things I had written, but they were personal emails, which I cherish and look back upon with strong fondness. It makes me happy that something about my stories touched others.

5. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not? I almost always responded to comments, good or bad, just because it meant something to me that my work had inspired someone to say something about it.

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending? Possibly a Xena fic, one that was quite short, called Solitude. It was set during the Bitter Suite era, which overall, was quite angsty.

7. What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending? There's an old movie, The Pirate Movie, that I latched onto as a kid, because of the song, "Happy Ending" and so...uh, I'm pretty sure everything I write has at least the glimmer of a happy ending, if not a total rainbows and puppy dogs ending...even if the characters had to slog through heck and squishy toast to get there.

8. Do you get hate on fic? Ages and ages ago, I got one of the most confusing emails I've ever seen. It was so badly written that I'd accuse it of being spewed out by an AI, except this was literally in the 90s, so I don't know if AI was a thing then...it might have been hate, or it might have been someone's drunken ramblings, I'm not terribly sure. I think the worst I've truly gotten was comments about how atrocious my grammar or editing was, and I don't consider that hate, just good criticism.

9. Do you write smut? Yes and No. Most of my published fanfic is fairly tame. Even my currently published original fiction is fairly tame...things I've been working on and dabbling with that are still unfinished and may or may not ever see the light? Definitely not tame.

10. Do you write crossovers? What’s the craziest one you’ve written? Yes. Absolutely. Resurrection is for the Unbelievers is a mega crossover between Angel: The Series, Buffy the Vampire Slayer, a Dracula movie, and eventually, Criminal Minds. This is probably my craziest in terms of seriously different fandoms.

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen? Many moons ago, back before even LiveJournal was a thing, someone posted one of my Xena fics to their site without asking. I asked them to remove it, and after some discussion, they did. They'd credited me, but I hadn't given them permission to post it.

12. Have you ever had a fic translated? Actually, yes. A long time ago, I had someone ask to translate a couple of my pieces and I said yes. I...really don't remember which ones, though. I've slept many, many times since then. I hope they're still out there, though.

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before? Several times. I'm currently co-writing with a friend. Nothing to publish as yet, but it's a lovely way to get better at many things.

14. What’s your all-time favourite ship? Of what I've written? I'd have to see Kate/Elizabeth simply because I invented it in terms of looking a two characters from different media and said, "They'd really make a great couple". Outside of that, I'd have to proffer the OG, Xena and Gabrielle...they're the ones who got me writing, who got me interacting with internet fandom as a whole, and made me a lot of friends...many of whom I still know, and one of which has been one of my closet friends since 1996.

15. What’s a WIP you want to finish but probably won’t? I have too many to name, but I'll through out the name of an unpublished piece called The Broken. It's a marvelous monstrosity that I worked on for over ten years with a friend...and we abandoned it because it had gotten too convoluted and silly and really, just completely lost its way. But I learned so, so much while writing it. I'll forever be grateful for its existence.

16. What are your writing strengths? Dialog, world building, emotive descriptions, romance, and I'd say I'm not too bad with action sequences if I put my mind to it.

17. What are your writing weaknesses? I'm too wordy and I suck at grammar. And I love adverbs and will die on the hill that they are a necessary part of dialog...but I do overuse them, especially when writing a first draft. I don't like doing a ton of research, either. I'd rather make it up unless I really need to know something. Good thing I generally write fantasy LOL.

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic? I don't write well in any other languages...I've had 2 years of high school French, but that was over 30 years ago.

19. First fandom you wrote for? On the page, that people could read? Xena: Warrior Princess, but I was making up stories about Charlie's Angels and other TV shows I loved for years. In the sixth grade, a friend of mine and I had a Wonder Woman (TV series) fanclub where we all spun around and pretended to be amazons out to save the day...so what if it was me and two boys who were telling each other these stories. We were having fun and extending the mythos of a show we loved.

20. Favourite fic you’ve written? Resurrection is for the Unbelievers is probably closest to my heart because of the work I put into it, but I love all my story children, even the ones whose existence has slipped to the back of my mind. They were all words that had to get out and show themselves off to the world.

(small disclaimer, all of the above was written while veeery tired, so if there are typos, I'm sorry.)

I tag whoever wants to have at this thing and have fun telling the world about your work. No specific callouts because frankly, I bet most of y'all have already answered this thing.

#writer asks #xwp #btvs #angel #er #star trek voyager #stargate sg-1 #writing

[lairn]

I was tagged by @gwenllian-in-the-abbey. Thanks, time to review some stats!

How many works do you have on AO3?

6

2. What’s your total AO3 word count?

13,400 (is there a non-manual way to do this?)

3. What fandoms do you write for?

Realm of the Elderlings and only RotE, haha

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

When you only have 6 works this doesn't say much! Patience in Winter I'd Rather Die Alone Weak Willed Loomings or, A Short Tale of Woe Never Know Peace (surprised anyone even saw this one)

5. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

Yes, virtually always. If anybody takes the time to share their thoughts with me, I at least want to thank them.

6. What’s the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

I was just noticing all my stuff ends with a little bummer even if the tone beforehand was more pleasant. But probably Weak Willed.

7. What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

Unfortunately, probably I'd Rather Die Alone. Or Patience in Winter.

8. Do you get hate on fics?

No, very few people read them to begin with! I'd be confused to receive hate, although it's not impossible it would happen.

9. Do you write smut? If so what kind?

A lot of what I've written is based on prompts. My default would probably be no smut and so far I've only written erotic (sub)text once. But maybe I'd write it if I got a request. It's just not my natural impulse.

10. Do you write crossovers? What’s the craziest one you’ve written?

Before I had an AO3 I started a NBC Hannibal/Minority Report crossover, haha! I only wrote a few paragraphs, and as soon as Hannibal showed up I quit. Much easier to write Will Graham's voice.

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not that I know of.

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

I really doubt it.

13. Have you ever cowritten a fic before?

No, but I've done a little beta reading.

14. What’s your all-time favourite ship?

I'm not really a shipper. If I see enough fan-content of a ship, it wins me over but not passionately. Serizawa/Reigen is an example. But I do feel pretty strongly that Fitz and The Fool have a queer relationship. I'm more in the QPR camp, but really enjoy the romantic fitzloved shippers' works. And sometimes the thought crosses my mind, "Oh Fitz, you fucked that gold man."

15. What’s a WIP you want to finish, but doubt you ever will?

I don't have any unless that Hannibal story counts. The recent Malta one took so long I thought I might not finish.

16. What are your writing strengths?

Mm, I think I can get a pretty good sense of characters and their voices. I'm not sure how clearly that translates to the page, but the clarity exists in my head.

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

I like including sense details (sight, sound, smell, etc.) but I'm not sure if they enhance things or are more intrusive. Dialogue feels bad, man.

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a fic?

I haven't and probably won't. If the characters understand it, I'd probably write in English and indicate it was said in another language.

19. First fandom you wrote for?

I wrote an additional chapter to add to the end of One Hundred Years of Solitude for a high school assignment. I think it counts because we had the option to do an analytical essay, but I was so excited about the book that I had to take the creative writing option. Nobody else did I think.

20. Favourite fic you’ve ever written?

Maybe Weak Willed. I feel like it's fun to read and someone did fanart of it!

tagging: @smalltownfae

#tag game

[krankittoeleven]

Can I do an offshoot of a tag game? inspired by the TV show tag game: Rules: 10 (non-ancient) books for people to get to know you better, or that you just really like.

I was tagged by @aeide and @brasideios

Boooks! I'm going to aim for a variety here, though a lot of these will probably lean to horror, but believe me, there is variety in horror lol. These are all the first things that came to mind in no particular order, except the first book which is...just...always...there.

This got long so I put it below a cut.

House of Leaves by Mark Z Danielewski - if I ever figure out what it is about haunted or weird houses, liminal spaces, and abandoned places etc. that I enjoy so much I think I will figure out something about myself. I mean, I know it has to do with solitude and emptiness or something, but it has to be more than that. Anyway, HOL is insane in its presentation, and I think should be experienced at least once, but it takes several readings to see everything (I think this will be perfectly clear after reading it once, but I know not everyone can devote that much time to one book). My favorite fun fact that I've heard about HOL is that MZD didn't intend to write a horror story, but instead a romance, and it just happened to take place in what some people consider a spoopy book.

Last Chance to See by Douglas Adams & Mark Carwardine - I think if I were to HIGHLY RECOMMEND any book on this list for a broad audience, this would be THE ONE. The premise is that DNA and Mark go on trips around the world to seek out some of the most endangered animals on the planet and to bring to the public eye the conservation efforts etc. surrounding those animals (this was in the 90s). The book is funny, inspirational, heartwarming and heartbreaking, sometimes bleak, sometimes delightful, and always fascinating. It has inspired a lot of conservation efforts since it was published, even now, long after DNA's death, which I think would make him very happy. My favorite story is about their crew trying to buy condoms in China so they could waterproof their mics to record river dolphins. CLASSIC.

John Dies at the End by David Wong - Horror, Humor and Satire all come together to create an incredibly entertaining read. This is one of my overall favorite books, its just weird, stupid and funny. It's best if you don't take it too seriously.

The Terror by Dan Simmons - one of my favorite historical fiction books (based around the disappearance of the HMS Terror and HMS Erebus, two British Naval ships lost in the artic). It is the slowest of slow burn, slow creep suspense. If you enjoy audiobooks I highly recommend this one in audio, it is a long read at about 800 pages, but reading it is it's own experience. I really like reading about people exploring really treacherous place so this fits the bill.

When You are Engulfed in Flames by David Sedaris - I have always loved David Sedaris' stories, he has been a constant presence in my life for many years and I am always amazed at how open he is about his family life (much to the chagrin of his family sometimes lol). This collection in particular holds a special place for me because it helped me get through quitting smoking, which was one of the hardest things I've ever done. I had read the book previously and knew that the last story, When You are Engulfed in Flames, was about David's own experience quitting smoking. I listened to the audiobook a lot during that time, usually while crying quietly under a blanket. LOL

Glamorama by Bret Easton Elis - I'm usually pretty loathe to recommend this to anyone, lest they think I am a psychopath, but seriously this is one of the best satires of consumerism ever written if you can just get past the blood and gore. If you don't know who Bret Easton Elis is, he wrote American Psycho. If you don't know what American Psycho is then skip this book (and maybe skip it even if you do) LOL

Colorless Tsukuru Tazaki and His Years of Pilgrimage by Haruki Murakami - I can see why this is one of Murakami's lesser know liked works, but I think it is one of the easiest to comprehend as well (IDK maybe Murakami purists like being confused and saying HUH? a lot). There is an exceptional amount of character growth and discovery to this story and it was not anything near what I thought it would be so that probably scored it some extra points. This isn't even my fave Murakami book, but it's what popped into my head.

The King in Yellow by Robert W Chambers - I feel like I would be doing all of my blog names a disservice if I didn't at least mention TKIY. Have you seen the yellow sign?

Help a Bear is Eating Me by Mykle Hansen - look, everything you need to know about this book is in the title. Also, it's pretty funny.

The Yellow Wallpaper by Charlotte Perkins Gilman - much like House of Leaves, I will never get over this story. Technically is a short story, but you can by it on its own so that makes it a book in my eyes lol Although this wasn't intended to be horror, as far as I know, it is one of the most horrifying things I've ever read. Without agency and autonomy we are nothing.

I will tag @theinkandthesea @mini-uzzy @liminalspacecowboah @troublemakingrebel @getfuckedyahoo @akashadarkblade @ainulindaelynn, @erzsebetrosztoczy and whoever else wants to.

#books #tag game

[night-unfurls-its-splendour]

🌤️ 🌩️ ☔

🌤️Share your favorite piece of dialogue from your WIP.

Published or unpublished? Because have so much favorite dialogue from all of the published chapters. And not much to choose from for Ch. 8. So I guess I'll do one of each.

The first is from Chapter 5, where Erik has just played her an excerpt from his new composition and Christine is feeling quite inferior to him, as an artist. She says that she has no genius of her own. Which Erik is of course very offended by:

"You must never forget that skilled as I am, though I say it myself, I am not so powerful as to be able to imbue talent where there was none before. I am only able to foster what nature has already gifted you. Do you understand me? And please say that you do, Christine, for you must know—know—that it is not in my nature to lie about music to spare anyone's feelings; even yours."

And then I don't have much dialogue at all written for Ch. 8, but this kind of connects to the above incident:

"Father always said he wasn't really talented," she sobbed quietly. "He said he simply practiced well. When he would tell me of the Angel of Music, I asked if he'd ever heard the Angel, and he shook his head and told me that he'd never been so blessed."

And Erik connects this with the fact that Christine did the exact same thing earlier in the evening.

🌩️ Share something funny/cracky from your WIP.

OK its not terribly funny, per se. I've been forced to confront today that I just don't do a lot of comedy in my writing. Except perhaps for the passage in chapter 5 where Erik mentally calls Carlotta a "contemptible cow" and then considers making her "moo" instead the next time.

But this is a scrap I have written for a future chapter:

Only Meg Giry had made any effort in those first few months to befriend her, and that had been an exercise in understanding when Christine required her solitude. That must have been quite an effort for little Meg, curious and nosy as she was. More than once he'd had to hold closed some hatch or panel which Meg had sniffed out to prevent her from confirming her discovery. She was a chronic pebble in his shoe.

☔Is there a fic concept you have that you'd like to just explain and share because you're not sure you'll ever write it? If so, what is it?

Ah okay this is actually excellent. Yes.

So I've been reading Driven by the wonderful and lovely TryingNotToLoveYou, where each chapter is named after and accompanied by lyrics from a different Depeche Mode song. Now I LOVE Depeche Mode. Every fic (published or WIP) that I've ever thought of for poto has a title taken from a DM song. It's just such PotO music.

One song in particular has always stood out to me: A Question of Time, in which the narrator expresses his fear and concern for a young girl and how it won't be long before "They" (this can be interpreted to mean men specifically or society in general) start to take advantage of her. He says "I've got to get to you first, before they do". The song also contains the lyrics "I'll take you under my wing; somebody should" which of course brings to mind "The Angel of Music has her under his wing".

This song was released in 1985 and my idea is for a movie based 1985 AU where a young Christine is an aspiring singer who gets signed to Erik’s record label.

I would love to write this fic. The problem is, its more of a vibe, an atmosphere, than an actual story in my head. I don't think I could write a story for any time period after 1918 to be perfectly honest.

In some ways I feel like I have a better understanding of life-patterns older periods. And the 80's would be particularly tough for me because its kind of in the middle as far as history goes. Its not far enough back to feel like fantasy-land but just far enough back that I wasn't alive yet and I don't even have a firm enough grasp of life in the 90's to fall back on (I was born in 95). So even though I'm probably the most familiar with the 80's out of any period in the mid-20th century pop-culturally, I still feel unqualified. And as for plot? Beyond this starting point, I have no idea where I would even start. I can't imagine writing any kind of long-fic, especially a modern!AU one. When the Longing Returns is actually just a short fic that has been stretched out by my excessive wordiness 😅😂

#ask game

[loulougoingsolo]

Don't ask why I wrote this (thoughts on the latest Ear biscuit)

It's been a good while since I've written down my thoughts on an Ear biscuit episode. I can tell you, there are probably dozens of unfinished drafts saved on my tumblr. I'm determined to post this one - if that doesn't happen, hi, me, from the future, trying to cypher why this text never got posted.

This was the rpisode after Good Mythical Evening, and, as we learn from Link, Rhett is still sick, but I think it's safe to say he's not premused quite as dead as he was during the Streamys anymore. Because of all of my neuroses, I've been genuinely worried for a few days, but I guess it's okay to breathe again.

So, Link was doing the podcast with Jenna, and I have to say, this was an excellent episode. The past few times when Jenna had been on the podcast with both Rhett and Link, the dynamic has been a little off, more confrontational with Rhett and Jenna teaming up "against" Link (which of course is not really the case, but because I tend to see things more like Link than Rhett, I'm often rooting for him). This episode, Link and Jenna have a great discussion as complete equals, and it is really enjoyable.

First, Link and Jenna go through GME and the Streamys, and sounds like they are both proud of Link's performances on both occations. It seems Rhett was pretty sick on the night of GME already. I hope GME 4 happens next year, not just because I've loved every show thus far, but so they get a chance to do one with both guys not sick, and with the technical stuff going as planned.

My heart kinda melted, when Link said he was missing "his dude" at the Streamys, and turns out he had talked about what to say on stage with Rhett. The way he presented Mr Beast's award was epic, but apparently, had they won Show of the Year, something even better would have happened. Next year, maybe.

So, the majority of this episode is dedicated to a solo camping trip Link made (with Jasper) during their summer break. He compares notes with Jenna on why they both enjoy solo travels, and talk about things you gotta do to stay safe while staying in the wilderness alone.

The reason I ended up writing my thoughts about this episode, in particular, is that listening to Link and Jenna talk about how freeing solitude is. I got envious.

The reason I've been so absent from Tumblr and everything else is that with my parents getting older, a lot of my time these days involves me doing things for them. My dad was diagnosed with Alzheimer's last year, and he no longer has his driver's licence. My mom has had some pretty major health scares in the past year, and it's near a miracle she is currently alive and actually physically functional. As if these things weren't enough, my sister was diagnosed with cancer, went through surgery, chemo and radiation therapy in the past year, too. She is doing better, now, but with my parents and my sister all struggling, I've suddenly ended up being very necessary. And that means, the most time I've had for myself in the past few months has been two days at most, but usually, not a day goes by without someone needing my help. And, I could really use a solo trip right about now.

Link talked about how being alone gave him a sense of being fully in control, and that made him happy. And for Jenna, solitude meant freedom. I can relate to both of these feelings. I've never really been able to be truly myself when other people are around, and it can be really suffocating. For me, it took a world wide pandemic to figure out that I actually like being me, but the problems, the anxiety and stress, emerge when I'm expected to interact with other people. As much control as I have over my own existence, I can't control other people. I've tried, doesn't work.

I csn't wait to see the video version of this episode on Wednesday. Link showed Jrnna a video he had made while watching the sunset with Jasper. I'm not religious, nor particularly spiritual, but if I ever feel connrcted with the universe, it's when I'm in the wild, surrounded by the beauty of nature. One August night this summer, I sat in the dark, staring at the sky, searching for shooting stars. I was alone at that time, apart from a million mosquitoes eating my ankles, and at the same time, I felt free, yet not lonely. And then I heard something crack in the dark, and, because I was in my garden, I calmly stood up and walked inside.

So, yeah, after sll of this nonsensical rambling, what did I actually want to say? Enjoy the little moments in life, alone or with someone you love. If you can, go on a solo trip - and if that is not an option, go outside, look at the stars and breathe. And even if this text probably isn't the best ad for this Ear biscuits episode, listen to it.

#ear biscuits #eb 392 #link's solo adventures #link and jenna #freedom #interesting discussion #ignore my rambling

[scottie-writes]

Under the Influence (Pt.1) (Harrington!reader)(Cousin AU)

CH. 1 How it all began.

Summary: After some life choices that don't exactly meet with your parent's approval they send you to spend the summer with your cousin in Hawkins. They're convinced he'll be a good influence and set you back on the right path.

Tags: Fem!reader, cousin!reader, Harrington!reader, slight AU,

w/c : 2k(ish)

A/N: Hello! Welcome to my first Stranger Things fanfic and the first fanfic I've written in about 10 years. I have this set around s3 but I'm not fully committed to cannon. I fully intend for this to become an Eddie x reader piece, so if that's not for you now, you know. I'm not sure if I'm going to keep in all the supernatural stuff from the show but either way, Eddie will remain alive and well, and the duffer brothers can bite me.

This is a reader insert fic but I'll be keeping use of y/n to a minimum just as a personal preference.

Feedback is very much welcome, but please be kind, I am old and fragile. Enjoy!

Chapter 1 - A step too far? 

Your parents were good people.   They both held down steady jobs, working long hours, it had taken them quite some time and a few different tries, but eventually, life started working out for them the way they planned. Which made them good people, according to society. You didn’t see much of them, especially as you reached the age when they felt it was okay for you to make your own way home from school, around eight years old, as it meant your mother no longer needed to request half days. Whilst their hard work benefited the family, you lived in a nice home and never wanted anything; you were painfully lonely.  Growing up an only child, you had grown used to quiet and the peace that could come with solitude.  Something your peers did not appreciate.  Sure, you had some friends; however, those friendships were limited to school grounds and birthday parties. For the most part, you were content to be by yourself. The only time you remember enjoying the company of others was when you would spend your summers in Hawkins. 

Summer in Hawkins; a staple of your youth. For a few weeks every summer, when your parents were either: so swamped with work they couldn’t think about you or wanted a holiday together, to allow them some ‘quality time’ with one another.  They would ship you off to stay with your Aunt and Uncle, ‘quality time’ with you be damned. They did their best to make it seem fun, like Hawkins was your holiday, a treat just for you.   

“It’s a special time for you to get to know the family”, your dad would say.  

“ Think about how happy your Aunt and Uncle will be to see you.” 

“you and Steve are the same age; I’m sure you have lots in common”.

You were happy enough with the arrangement for a time.  Your Aunt was always delighted to see you - “It’s so good to have another girl around”, she would say - and she made the most amazing dinners.  Your Uncle was pleasant enough but was usually too busy with work to care what you got up to.  Then there was Steve.  You guys had been close in your younger years, eagerly anticipating how many weeks you would have to play and adventure together.  He was the only kid your age who seemed to understand when you needed that alone space. For a few years, it was the best part of your year, bar Christmas - the only time your parents seemed content to have you in their presence. As you had grown, though, the summers dragged.  You longed for your room, for your city, for the autonomy you had grown so accustomed to.  Steve, too, changed; he had friends of his own and summer plans concocted in school hallways, and the time you spent together each summer lessened.  He would still make the obligatory effort the first few days, ensuring you got unpacked okay and had everything you needed.  But it would never take long for him to become restless, your changing personalities no longer meshing. He just wanted to play with his friends, run around in the heat and the mud, and generally cause a little chaos, the way young boys want to do.  You would rather sit with a good book, either by the pool or in the library - they were the only places in town that held any interest to you. 

As the years dragged on, you found yourself bristling each time Hawkins was mentioned.  You questioned the need to be shipped off every summer.  After all, you were fourteen, and your parents had left you alone for extended weekends before - business trips always taking precedence. You fought them the whole spring on the arrangements; eventually, they caved—no more summers in Hawkins.  

-⌘-

The new arrangement meant you were alone most of the time.  You learned to take care of yourself, learned how to cook, how to navigate the city streets and keep yourself out of trouble.  Things took a turn around your 16th birthday.  Your parents had noticed that you had been lashing out more, the argument about Hawkins a few years prior being the beginning of a downward spiral, according to your mother.  You went to school, came home, then shuffled out again, not to be seen until your 10 pm curfew.  They never knew where you went and were beginning to get concerned. Hypocrites - you hardly ever knew where they were.  The comments started coming when you no longer would wear the dresses your mother bought for you—opting instead for jeans that slowly became more ripped and bedraggled as the years went on. “Darling, I wish you wouldn’t dress like that” “It’s not becoming of a young lady”  Then it was your taste in music.  You went from listening to the radio with pleasure to tutting and rolling your eyes whenever you caught wind of bubbly pop music.  Your preferences now revolved solidly around music that your parents claimed would “make your ears bleed”.  

  Your first grounding lasted a week.  It was the longest week you had ever known.  The grounding, of course, did not dissuade you from your rebellion but instead pushed you further into it.  You stopped caring about the consequences and went where you liked with whomever you wanted.  Often returning home a mere minutes before curfew - a strategic choice to mitigate the grounding as much as possible.  Your parents tried to crack the proverbial whip a few more times, but as history had proven, their jobs took precedence.  You were grounded in name alone, with no one at home to enforce it.  And so you fell into a life of relative chaos. Frequently skipping classes or, on an odd day, skipping school altogether.  Your choices of recreational activities becoming more ‘unsavoury’.  

The nail in the coffin was parent-teacher conferences during Junior year.  Your parents actually decided to attend this one - what with high school drawing to a close and college looming, they needed to know what to expect of you.  You knew exactly what to expect; you weren't precisely valedictorian material due to your frequent day trips around the city that often lacked permission.  And you hadn’t exactly kept your parents appraised of the situation.  ‘They’re never home anyway’, you had reasoned while forging signatures on the failed assignments that were becoming a regular occurrence.

The evening was a symphony of “If this continues, she won’t graduate”, “she’s a bright girl; if only she would try”, and “Maybe if she attended class once in a while, it would be better”. This culminated in a meeting with your principal, the man collaring your family as they finished their rounds with the disapproving educators you had come to know and loathe. His office was stuffy; windows shut tight despite the growing evening heat that heralded the start of summer.   Everything you had endured so far started to pile onto your shoulders. The sympathetic look he gave your parents and talked like you weren’t even in the room. The accelerant spilled on your already lit fuse was the ‘concern’ that spilled from your parents’ mouths.  You were tutting and rolling your eyes as they spoke about you like you were a problem requiring a solution, not their daughter.  “We just want what’s best for her” is the phrase that sets loose your growing frustrations. 

“Fucking liars”, you scoffed, venom dripping from each word.  The three adults turned to you as if suddenly remembering your presence, shock painted across their faces.  You took their stunned silence as an opportunity to tell your parents what you thought.  “If you cared, you would be at home more.” Your voice raised, heart pounding with adrenalin “the truth is you care about your jobs more than you ever cared about me” your chest was heaving now with the weight of your anger. “I’M NOT EVEN A PERSON TO YOU; I’M A BOX TO CHECK.  YOU DON’T FUCKING CARE” from there on; the words are all a blur; the only memory was the white-hot anger burning your throat as you screamed.  And then the sound of the clock that broke as you smashed it to the ground.  Never had your rage and bitterness been so pronounced.  With rushed apologised and fervent glares, your parents all but ran you out of the principles office.  

“I just don’t know what else to do for you”, your dad bristled in the car on the way home. “We’ve done everything for you, this life; it was all for you!” He was close to yelling, and you could see the flush creeping up his neck.  Your mom patted his arm. “We just want what’s best for you, sweetheart, but you have to work with us," her tone cloying as she eyed you in the rearview mirror. You said nothing; arms crossed, glare fixed out the window.  

The punishment came swiftly, suspension from the last few weeks of school, no prom, no attending school fixtures, no admittance to school property  - oh no, what a nightmare!-you rolled your eyes as your dad laid out the terms set out by your school.  Then there were your parent's terms.  Grounded, obviously, for the whole summer.  That’s what would fix it, they decided.  You had been sent to your room and told to pack up all your books, comics and music. You tried to resist until your dad informed you that if you didn’t pack it up - neatly and respectfully- he’d come back with trash bags, and you would never see any of your precious things again.  So you spent your night putting the only things that brought joy into your life in boxes.  They were placed in the attic, which was always locked.  “You’ll get them back when you can show us the little girl we raised,” your mom said as you cried silently, watching your lifelines slip away.  You scoffed at that “that they raised”?  They didn’t even really know you.   

-⌘-

You sequestered yourself in your room for three days.  You only came out for meals when your dad screamed at you from the bottom of the stairs, threatening your beloved things over and over.  The silent treatment was your crowning glory; not even grunts of acknowledgement passed your lips—glares from your bloodshot eyes were the only conveyer of your displeasure. 

It was on day four that your dad finally broke.  They had taken it in turns to stay home, ensuring you stuck to the terms of your grounding, and your ever gloomy presence was wearing on their nerves. I mean, really, how could they ever be expected to put up with a whole summer of this?  “I’VE HAD ENOUGH”, your dad bellowed that evening at dinner, “Jim dear, please don’t shout,” your mom cooed, “No, Mary, I’m done.  I won’t have someone under my roof that doesn’t want to be here.  Who can’t even acknowledge her parents when they speak to her.  I’ve had it! This is not what Harringtons do!” You knew it was bad when dad brought up the family name.  He rarely did, and you knew why.  He felt inferior to his brother, who, as far as you were all aware, never had any trouble. Not finding a job, not with his family, not with his town.  You knew your dad was jealous of the life that came so easily to your Uncle.  “It’s time you learned what it is to be a family”, he continued. “You need some better examples in your life; these peers of yours have filled your head with rocks.” His face was approaching a dangerous shade of purple as he continued to rant and rave about how disappointing you were. 

You seethed silently, glaring at your mashed potatoes -As he started muttering.  “ they never had these sorts of problems with Steve; hell, the kid even graduated despite having a concussion most of last year”. The family is very proud of Steve, the basketball player.  No one blamed him he missed out on a scholarship because of his mystery concussions.  No one even questioned why he’d been beaten up so many times.  You had tuned out your dad's ramblings for a minute, thinking about how different you and your cousin had become.  

“It's decided.  She’s going to Hawkins.”

#stranger things #stranger things fanfiction #harrington!reader #cousin!au #stranger things 3 #eddie munson #steve harrington

[writingwell]

I have read all your Castle fic, some multiple times and need something new to read. I was wondering if you had any favorite Castle fics or authors you love/would recommend?

I'm bad about remembering fic I've read, but I do have some faves marked on my ffnet page, if you want to suss that out.

But authors! I will always hold a few especially dear:

Jennifer Egan (Visit from the Goon Squad, The Keep, etc) - Each of her novels have affected me in different ways, but the consistency of the quality of her writing is what sucks me in each time I start a new one.

NK Jemisin, Naomi Novik, Tracy Deonn, Rachel Yoder - a quick run through of some women in sci-fi/fantasy whose books are STELLAR and who don't get enough play in the usual round-up. For me, I'm not always gonna talk about them because I don't know how formative they've been yet, but damn they have some awesome story-telling, and I am SUCKED IN.

Mary Stewart (Touch Not the Cat, This Rough Magic, Merlin series) - Gothic romance for most of her career, MS wrote a Merlin series which I read grudgingly: they were the last books of hers I hadn't read. And I adored them, lol. She's easier to read than Daphne DuMaurier (Rebecca, My Cousin Rachel) but if you want to jump in, then I would suggest her short stories which are deliciously Gothic.

Edith Wharton (House of Mirth, Glimpses of the Moon, etc) - Gillian Anderson was going to be in HoM, I think, and she was interviewed in Entertainment Weekly magazine back in the day, and she quoted this book. I was perhaps 19? and I snatched it up the first chance I could get, wrote a paper for college, kept reading Wharton. As my twitter and ffnet handles show, Lily Bart, a woman fighting against the strictures of her society, absolutely had my heart. Want to know the quote GA used? "What Lily craved was the darkness made by enfolding arms, the silence which is not solitude, but compassion holding its breath." Holy shit, how can you not be immediately caught?

Madeleine L'Engle (Wrinkle in Time et al, Certain Women, A Severed Wasp) - What most people don't know is that L'Engle wrote adult fiction as well as what is now termed YA (or Children's, depending). Her adult stuff is poignant and devastating and just as hope-filled as her literature written for younger audiences, and I don't think even those books can be said to be just for children. A Swiftly Tilting Planet still makes me think about how righteous is pacifism in this day and age (ie, maybe it's not, and that's horrendous) plus A Wind in the Door is this really beautiful grappling with childhood disease/death/mental health. It's very lovely to have a gentle-handed author shape elemental Truths around your imagination and plant the seeds for both questioning the world and also loving it, flaws and all. And that both of those things can exist.

Chaim Potok (The Gift of Asher Lev, Book of Lights) - I realize I have a lot of women on this list, but Potok is a man who gets the creative experience inexorably tangled with the spiritual one. If you're not of some kind of seeking orientation, I don't know that Potok would resonate with you as it did and does with me, but there's something wholesome and agonizing about a man who knows he is put on this earth to create and yet everything in the earth is an obstacle to that calling. Even God, who ostensibly called him. It's really quite impressive a theme.

Colette (The Vagabond, Cheri, Claudine series) - Like I said, a lot of women, but these are the authors I go back to. The Vagabond, when I read it over again just a few years ago, was this huge light bulb moment for me: oh THIS is why I'm like this. I read it the first time in SF, plucked from my aunt's shelves (she was, I thought, so very cool, and if my aunt had this book, I should be reading it). It was both a book about a single woman writing a book, but also a book about a woman determining her own selfhood, and I latched onto both those concepts. Made for me. This led me to many of her others, but also to Anaïs Nin (also on my aunt's shelves), at about 18 years old, also formative. Delta of Venus is her erotica, and I will admit I skip some of the body violence/horror shorts and the child molesting stories, but others are expansive and sensual forays into women's sexuality that I just had never read before. Not outside of fanfic, anyway. Nin has some short novels that are also in that vein—a woman exploring herself—but I think you'll have seen mostly quotes from her letters and diaries. If you want nonfiction, and something of an epic read, go there.

Nick Hornby (A Long Way Down, About a Boy, High Fidelity, Funny Girl, Just Like You) - I've been reading him since early college, and I can't even remember what got me started first. High Fidelity? Because it was a movie about music and starred John Cusack? Who knows. Anyway, I think his novels stand up against time, and I met him at a book reading once and he was both hilarious and deep. I'd been working with a boy with autism at that point, and I had just read A Long Way Down, and it was evident to me that this author knew what it was to Suffer™ and sure enough, I found out later that he has a child with autism. He just seemed to understand, in both speaking and in print, that life isn't easy for anyone, that we all have a story, and books/stories/music are often the only ways we get any relief. Also he's hilarious. I said that, but it bears repeating. And if you want to understand Brexit at all, Just Like You was eye-opening for me about that. (Being American, I got it in the way of like, oh shit we elected This Cheesehead, but I didn't get it in the way of like, culture and national health care etc).

John Scalzi (Old Man's War, Locked In, Kaiju Preservation Society) - Sci-fi standby. I mean, if I want to read science fiction and I want to laugh and also Get Something Out of It, then I pick up Scalzi. He has a funny twitter presence and a blog and all that, but I don't have much to do with it. I just read his books and laugh and feel like I've managed to escape while also not ingesting something totally bullshit patriarchal. He's aware, he's looking around at the world, and he's imagining a future where that shit, yes, does happen, because we are people, but also like, more and more people or aliens are striving to eradicate that shit. So I like that. Becky Chambers is doing some really good, captivating sci-fi as well, if you want less humor in it (not that she's not funny, she's just not as tongue in cheek or expressly sardonic as Scalzi) and I have one of hers on my TBR shelf.

Ungggg, I feel like this is getting TL;DR and so I need to rattle off a few more names and go: Howard Thurman (meditations), David Maine, Neal Stephenson, Toni Morrison, Larry Niven, Ben Bova, Lucille Clifton (poetry), CS Lewis, Rainbow Rowell, Flannery O'Connor, Maggie Stiefvater, James Baldwin, Celeste Ng, Henry James, Thomas Hardy, Richard Castle (lol but not lol, I seriously love those books).

[yavieriel]

@forerussake tagged me in a first lines meme, but I'm terrible at actually fucking finishing things and publishing them, so I'm doing a WIP-inclusive variant.

Rules: List the first lines of the last ten (10) stories you published worked on. Look to see any patterns you notice yourself, and see if anyone else notices any. Then tag some friends. A first-lines meme!

1. He flees the ruins of his body, and darkness encompasses him. Here, actually written and posted in about an hour yesterday.

2. The wind that pushed Melkor’s poisonous fumes back from the battlefield carried an achingly familiar scent of power, shimmering blue in the edges of his vision. Bind, which I have started desultorily prodding at again. There's a much longer but very piecemeal version still unpublished.

3. Olorin had appeared at the gates to Ingwe’s garden that morning, quiet and grave, and Ingwe had known at once that something was deeply wrong, the worry he’d felt since Melkor’s release coalescing into certainty. Manwe/Ingwe with a somewhat different take on their dynamic that my usual. A sequel of sorts to this fic by @gloriousmonsters, though I feel like the premise stands reasonably well on its own.

4. Varda has always loved teasing Ulmo, coaxing him out of his frigid solitude with her warmth and brightness. OT3: The Water Cycle, aka the Varda/Manwe/Ulmo fic. I mentioned this concept to @fireflypersona years ago and I still want to write it, but for now I have exactly three sentences.

5. The destination of the caravan was the court of a petty king who made his wealth selling slaves to Mordor, and so could afford its cargo of rare wines, polished gems, furs and fine linen from Gondor and points further north. I've always been a sucker for the classic premise of "Legolas is captured and enslaved and meets a stranger (Aragorn) who rescues him and they fall in love". I've read a lot of takes on it and always been unsatisfied one way or another; maybe someday I'll actually flesh this out. Very importantly, involves Legolas consensually acting as Aragorn's sex-slave to avoid blowing Aragorn's cover before they can escape, so like... fake dating turned up to eleven+fuck-or-die.

6. There was something different in the forest, something strange. The very long, largely canon-compliant Manwe/Ingwe fic I've been working on off and on for years now, spanning from Ingwe's first meeting with Orome to the War of Wrath.

7. When the evening meal is finished, Fingolfin retreats to his rooms. The practicalities of ruling are done for the day, set aside for rest and, sometimes, the more tender responsibilities of a lord to his people. I have a lot of nebulous feelings about nonsexual elven D/s relationships and fealty kink and occasionally try to work out what I think that would look like by writing about it.

8. It had been an absolutely miserable day at court so far. An Edrahil/Finrod/Barahir fic that I've been cowriting with @absynthe--minded, although it's been a bit neglected for awhile since iirc we hit a sticking point where neither of us were really happy with it.

9. Yavanna speaks to him a soft murmur of concern, the uncertain rustle of branches directing his gaze to the roots of Laurelin spreading across the crown of the Ezellohar, where a mote of gold is cupped within the high ridge of one curving root near the trunk. Another Manwe/Ingwe thing, meant to be a one-shot-ish thing set in the same universe as Pantie by the inestimable and much-missed Emily en Rose. Ingwe visits Valinor for the first time and much to his dismay, discovers that he's an omega by going into heat. Working title: "I'm so sorry Ingwe".

10. Valinor had always had a surfeit of exotic creatures - things that had long since vanished from Middle-earth, or lived far to the south or east of Beleriand, and some that he suspected were merely charming but not-quite-successful creations of the Valar that couldn’t survive without a little assistance. The thing where I've been faffing around with the idea of Finrod/Namo and/or Amarie/Finrod/Namo.

Feel free to ask questions about these if you want more of them, and/or to DM me for the googledocs link if you want to read whatever draft I have and comment on it there.

#my stuff #my fic #my writing #memes #tagged

[roseofdarkness0]

hhhhhhhhh I've been stewing on an idea for past few days for a fic based on rp me and my friend are doing and just dbhdhdh not sure whatever I should even attempt writing it

The whole idea combines lore of kingdom and oven break and what Me and Tea did in our rp. You can find Tea here

To set things up, the fic would focus on (what I headcanon to be) 4 siblings:

Madeleine Cookie, Sparkling Cookie, Knight Cookie and Creampuff Cookie

Madeline here being the oldest and Creampuff is youngest with Sparkling and Knight cookie being in a way, both twins (in spirit) and a middle child because yes.

They were taken in and adopted by the White dragon (or at least my take on the guy Lmao even if we had like 1 mention of them, and as side note, all of this is written before the oven break newest update with dragons) and his partner and from there they just existed and made their way to where they are today.

I'm going to put rest of it under the read more because I don't want to over take the tag and I can over explain a lot

this is long, I will say it outright, it's very long and essentially just mix of lazy world building and not really fanfiction???

‼️✨Before anyone starts reading, again look at the tags, please look at the tags and just think critically, it's not bad but yeah it's just mention of a pairing people may not agree/want to see✨‼️

Alright then! So Lets go from the begging!

The 4 (just short for Mad, Spark, Knight and Puff) were kinda left alone by their bio parents and when Glacier (White Dragon husband) is traveling through the land he finds the 4 and just takes them in with him as he returns North, (North here is just land where White and Glacier rule over). After convincing White to let them stay they begin their new life in the cold lands of the north.

Now to explain the North (even if it isn't too big of a deal) its a land in the north most point of the earthbread. It contain Frost Queen palace at it's center, White Dragon kingdom at north east which has open trade with several villages (including milk and cotton village) and a mysterious factory where trains are rumoured to leave only once a year and fly through the world. At north west we have a mysterious place where it's rumoured the souls go to be lost forever. South west we have the fortress of solitude and south "center" we have docks for some ships that bring the few traders and visitors.

I'm not gonna get into too much details into here, but the first years of them living in the new cold environment were riddled with sickness, boundary making and fights. After fight and everyone getting closer, they did an adoption ritual which granted the five some of white and glacier features (mostly their dragons forms and access to family magic). But of course we also gotta get to the present day so let's continue.

I imagine each of them went off to explore the world at their own pace:

•Madeleine went off to see the world when he was around 18 or so

So here are few of the more important events for him: finding the republic and making a home there, making friends with one of the noble families and become quite a close friends with them (so much so that people sometimes mistake him for one of the kids of the family), Learning about the divine and getting into knight school and program under patronage of the family Madeleine befriended.

•Sparkling took a bit more time to be convinced to go off and explore, being encourage mostly by his siblings and parents. And so he went off to travel the continent and learned the mysteries of alchemy and potion making.

He was around 19 when he discovered Parfedia institute and joined it after impressing the board. Whilst he was learning there's there were two other notable students one of pure white hair and other know for their strong healing magic.

Some of more memorable moments are: Him graduating top class and all of the Fam hiding around the crowd, traveling the world and perfecting his potions and working as a mercenary/assassin when he was low on cash and him opening his bar few decades later.

•Knight left the home as early as he could, wanting to go out and explore the world. His travels took place towards the end of dark flour wars so he had counter a lot of fights and had to quickly learn how to survive and fight back.

He traveled as a mercenary/bodyguard for hire for a while (sometimes joining forces with Sparkling) and had encounter quite few cookies that he still keeps in contact with and few he made life long enemies with. When he got nostalgic he set off to go back towards the north, however a violent storm broke out and it took few years for him to return home, heartbroken and changed...

Knight notable events include: His first proper bodyguard for a noble family job, getting a new armour made by his aunty and Ma, joining the royal knights in hollyberry kingdom under the new commander Madeleine and then getting another bodyguard job protecting the princess. For now he is content.

•Creampuff cookie is the youngest and still haven't completely left home, not in a long run anyway. She did run away once.

When all three of her brothers left to see the world, she retreated to libraries, reading and experimenting and performing small fits of magics. Sometimes she would hang around with Frost queen and hear the tales she had to offer. One night in middle of the summer she decided to just up and leavee (after writing a note of course) getting lucky that the guards didn't caught her. She set of mindlessly towards yogurca but an unexpected sandstorm sweep her away...

Creampuff notable events: Finding city of wizards making friends with alchemist, getting into Parfedia institute, being one of the main founders for the cookie alliance and fighting off another dragon into submission.

---

Now then, I did preface all of this with the fact that this is a mixed bag Oven Break and Kingdom which includes the legendaries and ancients.

The ancients have their own kingdoms to look after, however the hollyberry kingdom is treated as a bit of a "hub" (essentially think the player kingdom) where the ancients sometimes come and hang out.

Legendaries have their own domains and places to look after but the kingdom also offered them their own mini "regions" within the kingdom. Of course legendary cookies can chooses to stay over but usually they get to stay at the castle.

General feeling of ancients and legendaries is "I am too old for this shit" whilst they sip margaritas and wear sunglasses whilst they talk shit about everyone.

Oh right, White and Glacier are based on the white dragon that was teased in the lotus story line, Frost Queen and Blizzard (Tea oc) chill at the north.

Ananas and Pitaya usually share over dragon valley and tropical islands (with Mango who is like 25 or so) whilst keeping up with Lotus and Hydrangea who rule over the lands that well lotus has. Fire usually helps out pitaya (in this story they have father son relationship) and cigar (Tea oc) is the younger son but also derpy and in love with chimken..... (at one point quite literary)

Millennial tree and Windy causally rule/protect rest of the earthbread, Churro appears (and gets together with the tree) whilst having an existential crisis after like coming back from the crimson curse and all. Sea Fairy and Moonlight are gay and happy wife's who rule over their own respective domains of sea and dreams.

Timekeeper just fucks shit up whilst croissant mixes another shot of vodka and red bull in her coffee whilst saying "this is fine"

---

The main portion of the whole story idea/fic that could be if I wasn't lazy would take place in the "present day" of the kingdom where Madeleine is the knight commander, knight works as personal guard for the princess and sparkling is running his juice bar whilst Creampuff continues to work/study/help in Parfedia.

We find three of the four protagonist hunches over in a nearby alleyway looking shifty and near panic as they read a mysterious note they received.

Espresso who was walking by to get to the train station just raises an eyebrow as he watches Madeleine loose a game of rock, paper, scissors.

Knight and Sparkling cheer happily and just pat Madeleine before scampering off in different directions. Madeleine sulking ends when he spots Espresso and goes to greet him like a giant golden retriever ...somehow Espresso is still unsure if he saw anything at all or it was just sleep deprivation and just choosss to ignore it as the irritating knight goes with him to Parfedia.

Over the course of the next few days more and more cookies notice that something seems to be off.

Firstly, Sparkling coming late to his shift more frequently and avoiding his friends questions and making them worry even more. Especially after he gets his third wrong order of the night... Sparkling still insist he is fine, no one believes him.

Knight coworkers (friends) are also worried about him. Especially since he just seems so angry/indifferent all the time now. Like him doing his duties annoys him. He does try to reassure everyone (especially the Princess) that he is fine and that he isn't going to like leave out of nowhere or something (she doesn't believe him). Pistachio tries to get some answers from knight but gets distracted by how pretty princess looks like and knight slips away.

Lastly, Latte and Almond noticed how quieter and secretive Creampuff had recently gotten either looking like she had spend a whole night reading or having nightmares. Even Eclair and Tea Knight had taken notice and asked the professor and detective about it but everything just seems going worse. Especially after the Knight Commander visited Creampuff apparently with condolences.

Nothing however could have prepared everyone for the usual monthly balloon expedition rooster and finding that the longest flight was to be filled with the four cookies and a legendary. Which is something that never happen. The rooster has to go through several cookies, and no one wants to loose so many good and important workers. Not to mention a student and a legendary???

Frost Queen just chilling and ignoring everyone trying to question her and change her mind. She is mostly concern about having enough alcohol to survive the trip up north with the fourth in extremely close quarters for hours.

Madeleine cries as he pulls two all nighter sorting out through the paperwork for whatever HR cookies have, that was supposed to be done months ago. He may be foolish but not enough to leave stack of paperwork for pistachio to find.

The same night Madeleine finished the paperwork frost queen just picked him up like a kitten and dropped him into the balloon with rest of their luggage. Knight was already there, snoring softly with Puff on his chest also sleeping and bundled up on blankets. Sparkling was half making a cocktail and half checking over the balloon. Soon enough they took off into the night.

No one heard back from them for a week, and when the balloon came back empty a true panic had set in.

Frost queen was only glad that she had set up the cameras before they went away.

------

I just want to take this section to acknowledge some ideas may sound familiar, and I do not mean any harm by it. I was mostly just writing out what me and my friend got going for the rp.

Also just, this idea is getting bigger and bigger that I may start out a fanfic on ao3, I can't do linear but I may do loosely connected one shots.

And at the end I do want to apologise for any spelling mistakes and anyone who may read this to the end. I spend days on this shit I am tired but here we go

#‼️warning; I imply ananas x mango x pitaya which I recognise people may not like or want to read even if it's just implication thus I #recommend to either skip over the section where I talk about legendaries or just not read it. That's it's that's the warning‼️ #So to the tags about cookies I talk about most: #madeleine cookie #sparkling cookie #knight cookie #creampuff cookie #frost queen cookie #The cookies that are mentioned in passing: #legendaries #legendary cookies #ocs #sparkling bar regulars #princess and pistachio I guess??? I'm trying not to flood the tags dbdn #cookie run #cookie run ovenbreak #cookie run kingdom #from which I mix both games lore like it's a candy #fic idea #fic ideas #Churro cookie is there mentioned croissant as well