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thebummm · 11 months

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You and me, ma Kota

Neteyam Sully x human/Omaticaya reader

Summary: You were a girl with no family, just racing. When you get a job offer to help kill Toruk Makto. Accepting it wasn't as easy as you thought. What will happen on Pandora?

Pairing: Neteyam x Human/Omaticaya Reader

Word count: 1,408

Warnings: a lil cursing

Part 3

“Okay, we call this a pod. You will get in and just relax. Then you’ll wake up in your avatar body.”

“Okay”, I signed heavily. I was nervous but ready. As I lay down in the pod. The lady fixed my position, then closed it. I relaxed my breathing, then closed my eyes. It felt like being born again. A fresh start.

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

I was seeing white for a while until Colonel became clearer. I listened to his instructions, as he told me to slowly get up and move my fingers.

It felt like me. I wiggled my toes for a minute, then I sat up. “This is crazy. Oh my-,” I stood up and ran to the mirror” I was everything.

“Slow down, go slow.”

I looked deeply at my face. My beautiful eyes. All the white freckles and the beautiful designs on my skin.

“So beautiful,” I said to myself.

I looked at my hands and arms, I was mesmerized. This felt a little too real.

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

After a week and a sum of training, it was time.

I was ready and geared up. My hair was in a bun, and I was dressed in soldier-type clothes. We were on a plane to the forest; I couldn’t see anything from where I was sitting.

~~~~~~

As we got closer to the ground, I took the mask off. I stood up and stared out the small window near me. It was beautiful, that's all I could say about this whole thing. As I followed the team and hopped off the plane. The plane took off. We put our guns up, ready for anything to pop out.

We walked for a while before we came across a trailer. Walking up to it behind everyone. I noticed one of the walking gun machines laying in the grass. It had a decomposed skeleton in there.

“I wonder who this was,” I said to the group.

“It was me,” Colonel said.

“This is where Sully’s Wife killed me.”

I looked at him as he picked up his skull and crushed it in his hands. One of the group members then handed him a video of his last moments. Watching the video for a second. Before I could react. Some of the group members spotted someone and raised their guns at them.

“Come on out we see you,” Colonel demanded.

As they slowly stepped out the group grabbed them and forced them on their knees.

They were kids.

Colonel handed me the little girl. I placed my hand tightly on her shoulder.

“Just don’t move okay,” I whisper to her trying to calm her down. The other girl started speaking a language towards her people.

“Mawey …. Mawey.”

“Shut up,” Colonel said.

“Let us go,” the older girl said.

Colonel just ignored her. “Colonel check this out. Four fingers, we have a half-breed.”

“Shit,” the human boy said. I wondered why he was out here; he was the only human.

He looked and turned to the Na’vi boy. “Show me your fingers.” The Na’vi boy raised his hands and flicked two middle fingers.

“You're his, aren’t you,” the Na’vi boy then hissed. As Colonel was questioning him. The older Na’vi girl signed at me.

“Help Us,” she whispers. I looked at her, ashamed. I felt horrible at that moment. I told her to wait though. So I could figure something out.

‘I was not finna get these kids killed. I didn’t sign up for this.’ I put my attention back on Colonel.

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

We waited till night, waiting to see if Jake Sully would show up.

As time rolled by, I started to hear noises. At first just animals, then a small type of yelp. It repeated.

The Na’vi girl looked at me like she was signaling me or warning me.

Next thing I know the man in front of me fell on top of me. He had been shot by an arrow. I removed him me and the little girl. As bullets started flying. I pushed the little girl towards the arrows. She then took off, with the two boys.

I then took my pocket knife out and did something I never thought I would’ve done. I stab Z dog in her neck and laid her body down. I quickly grabbed the older girl's hand and pushed her forwards. Bullets and arrows started flying toward us.

“GRAB HER,” Colonel yelled at me. As I turned around, I saw a lady with a bow pointing at me. I then tried to dodge it and slipped off the tree branch I was on.

I rolled and rolled until I hit the ground.

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

As I slowly got up, I regained where I was. I see these dog-like animals circling me. I got on my knees and then slowly on my feet. I grabbed my pocket knife from off the ground and held it near my chest for some sort of protection. They circle me for a minute before one jumped at me.

An arrow shot at it, and it fell to the ground. Another one jumped at me. It tackled me down. I was trying my hardest for it to not bite me.

“Get off MEE!” I mumbled. I was holding onto the animal's neck to try and stop it from eating me. Its claws starting to dig into my skin.

“AHH!” I screamed in pain.

All of a sudden, it stops fighting. Before I could react to what was happening. A tall boy jumped in front of me with his hands out. He gripped my arms and helped me up.

“Are you okay?” He said so softly.

“Yeah ...... yeah, I'm good,” I said. I held my side and stood up like I was okay. I didn’t look at him though. I was still recovering from what just happened, but when I did. I couldn’t stop. He was staring at me as well. He had the most unique clothing laid on him. From his neck to his ankles. His eyes were big, and bright. He was so tall. He only had 3 fingers. He was a true Na’vi. I’m surprised he didn’t kill me.

“Your bleeding, you are not good,” he said, sounding worried. He sounded like the softest thing.

“I’m fin-”

“We were too close to the stars, I never knew. Somebody like you, somebody”

Some type of creature landed on my shoulder; I turn my arm over as they spread over me.

“What is this?” I asked him. I started to move back. I was confused but amazed. It was beautiful, the way the creature lit up at night. They were like floating jellyfish. How the boy’s skin was glowing, how beautiful and handsome he was. I couldn’t hide my smile anymore.

“Falling just as hard. I’d rather lose somebody, than use somebody”

“Don’t move,” he said. I raised my eyes at him and I let them just land on me. I couldn’t stop looking at him. Then they flew away.

“Maybe it’s a blessing in disguise”

“Come, let’s go,” he insisted. I stared at him, then I turned around and tried to get my belongings.

“Come!”. He grabbed my hand, and I ran with him to who knows where.

Neteyam POV

“What is this?” The girl questioned.

“Don’t move,” I was stunned, Eywa was showing me a sign. This reminded me of the story my parents told me, about how they first met. This made me feel a certain way. Like I was being blessed, by great mother Eywa.

I just stared at how she reacted. How she smiled, in awe as they landed on her. She was Pänutìng ulte just all over the rutxe, it was so stunning. Ohe felt like wìntxu was meant (pretty and just all over the place, it was so stunning. I felt like she was meant).

Her hair was flipped to the side. I see her features. She had eyebrows, five fingers, and toes. She was human. As they flew away. I was brought back to reality.

“Come let’s go,” she looked at me again then turned around to get something off the ground. ‘This Skxawng! (idiot)’ I said to myself. I didn’t know if it was a good idea, to take her back to the village. I refused to leave her though, she was a baby in the forest. I will have to just deal with my father this time.

“Come!”, I said a little more aggressively. I grab her hand and she followed behind me.

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

Thanks!

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chapuyes · 3 years

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There seem to be some chapters in my own history that I’ve like, intentionally or accidentally left blank, and I wonder if it’s really possible to go back and start in on the missing chunks

#that’s the same sex attractant experience ay. or was it the crushing self hate Or Both paired with being a lonely kid #y’all become my therapist or preferably matchmaker pls set me up w an understanding woman who will put up w/ my shit #oooo I am feeling shame in this dark bedroom tonight ladys shame at my actions AND lack of action #u guys ever see that movie apostle? it’s a lil fucked up but I wanna decompose in a field like that dude at the end I just think that’d be #swell for me. hhhhggbhhghhhhhhhh I’m a wet towel there’s no spine or brain or nervous system in here #tapes & coffee talk

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q-unsolved · 4 years

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SO IVE WATCHED !!! THE LADY OF THE DUNES!!! (expect reblog dump)

ngl i really really like the turtleneck

“all rich people are murderers” i mean. are you wrong

IS NO ONE CONCERNED ABOUT A 12 YR OLD LIL KID FINDING A HALF-DECOMPOSING BODY oh dear

“or they just know that the ranger is a doofus” why is shane in such a shady mood today what is happening

ricky goldsworth origin story: he stumbled upon a body and called it in wrong, got called a serial killer

deep dish.... dental............ ryan pls

the lady was exhumed a lot, no rest for this ghost :/

tumblr theory tuMBLR THEORY TUMBLR THEORY

.... i just realised i’ve never watched jaws. huh

surprising how this time, other than the tumblr theory, all are quite.... unlikely. also fuck off hadden.

shane really said fuck rich people and fuck cops this ep. *clap*

so ... can ms kesinger contact the ghoul bois to tell us she’s still alive and thriving cos i’d love that, it’s right up my list next to db cooper calling in

(ryan’s right. i’m not too much on board with the mustache)

#buzzfeed unsolved #should i tag these reaction posts from here on #but i'm lazyyy

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crabuncle · 5 years

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are darn, well thanks for answering! maybe doodle a lil more of that decay lady then!

her name is cedae! she can make things decompose just by touching them

#ocs #cedae #thank you again for the prompt!!#i love her so much shes a lot of fun to draw #asks #anonymous #marys art

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spacebookettes · 3 years

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A Dark Town Undone

The Dark Town was to be in a movie. Yes another post apocalyptic.

Extras all dressed up in whatever they could find as Victorian ghosts. English pale skins and delicate bodies. The usual characters of Dark Town sent to the side streets and light towns for holidays.

The pale skins were dotted with silver glitter, an ethereal picture they made; fake dust in their hair and on the top of the hats. Some brought their large ethereal dogs.

The neon was turned off, an occasional spasm.

The main characters were given torches, some things were thrown over and there were lots of helpings of apocalyptic trash.

Beams of light stretched out along the abandonment and up toward the airy black ceilings occasionally disappearing into the great dark caverns. A zap of blue or pink would attract the direction of the torches. They were hoping someone had left food. Torches invaded old food trollies and cyber restaurant windows and then storage. The occasional glint of hidden silver glitter.

The usual horror movie conversation about something not feeling right and we should get out of here.

No food.

Of course an underground town with no lights on can be made to look like an ever expanding lost city.

Increasing tense voices as the protagonists venture deeper into abandoned food carts and dusty cyber restaurants. Their thoughts echo around the cavernous dark spaces, getting more desperate.

The last of the water shared and finished.

Tiny spots of veiled glitter seem to be getting closer as the torches dart around the blackness. Conversations from one who swears they’ve seen a face out there.

SNAP something breaks and echoes around them, “it sounded wooden"

Back to back with furious torches they continue deeper into the dusty no food.

An ancient brick drops next to them, all the torches clash to inspect it and then inspect the high concrete places.

“LETS GO BACK” a little piece of faded silk floats down onto their head, SCREAMING as they run backtracking their journey. SNAP SNAP SNAP

Only their breathlessness sounded. The lost cars of the abandoned parking spaces had flashes of reflective eyes on the back seats. The breathing stops as the main characters lower their torches, not able to stand the animalistic eyes any longer. The sound of a car door opening. Running up the sloping roadway. Such a long roadway, a giant wooden cart wheel on one side, dustily decomposing. Up and onto a northern English moor of heathers and slowly retaking trees. “NO, WE HAVE TO GO BACK... THIS ISN’T RIGHT.” Turning to little flecks of glitter emerging out of the dark underpass, pale faces, ghostly hair and peppered vintage hats. Tools of the modern world, taken from the dark town. Aluminium piping, a flash of shiny new hammer, a shopping trolley, with one wooden cart wheel, full of dangerous reflections.

The end

By Peter Stringer

Clowns

An old car racing down a forest road. No honking. A covered painting vibrates in the back. The art dealer had found the Worst painting in existence. He was bringing it to the castle, a castle sometimes lost in the mist, that local people swear disappears sometimes. In fact the locals will not go up to Gray Stone Castle, ever. The surrounding villages have never had any contact with anyone at the castle, no local businesses used by the inhabitants; in the whole history of the region not one interaction... though the castle has always been there in perfect condition, a little smoke with the faintest tinge of red escaping from a little gargoyle chimney on one grey stone corner... ALWAYS a little plume of smoke for hundreds of years, as far back as anyone’s ancestor’s could remember.

Winding up into the mountainous region the car stops at the closest village. An older lady sat with a plinking smartphone looks up and at the car “I’m looking for Gray Stone Castle.” ‘it might not be there today' said the lady. The man laughed. The lady got up, went indoors and locked her door. “huh... mountain folk.” The clouds parted higher up in the rock, a small turret could be seen in the sunshine. Distant thunder cracked from darkened clouds somewhere behind the castle.

The car reached the courtyard outcropping of the castle entrance. A robot made with skin coloured metal, opened the door. ‘you drive yourself' asked the robot “yes when I find a place where it’s still legal, I always find a car and take it for a spin... and no tracking, makes things easier.” The robot took the painting inside. ‘smaller than I expected.’ said the robot about the painting. ‘the mistress will be pleased though... when she gets back.’ It started raining with a misty grey chill. In the distant valley below there was still sunshine.

Sat by a small fire in a vast grey fireplace “when will your mistress be back" the robot flinched slightly at the word your. ‘this evening or tomorrow morning I believe.' “I might have to wait?! That wasn’t part of the job!”

The man had a look around the castle ; hundreds of grey stone rooms with slit windows that only had views of mist and rumbles of thunder. A few locked doors but all in all a cold drab uneventful place. IKEA furniture.

The man sat by the small fire. A little D2 robot brought him food, it too was made of skin coloured metal. Canned meat, pickled beetroot slices and mayo sandwiches with a glass of milk that had a hint of red tinged that the man didn’t notice. The first robot stood over the man while he ate. ‘the mistress likes to hunt for mountain pigs in the mist.’ “mountain pigs?? How does she dispatch them?” ‘with her bare hands.’ Answered the robot. The man choked a little and drank some ‘milk'. The castle entrance slowly opened and a small grey haired kindly older lady walked in from the rain. The man glanced at her hands, they were clean. The robot introduced them. They walked into her study. Inside was the painting on an easel, still covered. The mistress sneaked a peak of one corner and giggled in anticipation. She looked at the man. ‘you see the paintings always reflect the man' said the mistress. The man didn’t understand. “I thought you wanted the worst painting I could find?” he asked. ‘yes but your worst.’ Said the mistress. The robot snatched the cover off of the painting. The mistress turned around to take in all of it. The spotlight revealed a mixture of fluorescent paints and pale skin coloured acrylics. A face of a smiling gorgon; scaly skin with fluorescent highlights, BLACK irises, stale breathy strands escaping from it’s mouth of fluorescent pink teeth. ‘OOOOOOO WHAT A GLORIOUS PIGGY.’ The robot said. The man wanted to run. He slowly got up and walked calmly to the castle entrance. He went outside. Outside was a half ring of skin coloured robots blocking the man’s route to the car. It started raining... the skin colours started dripping to reveal patches of stainless steel and shiny red painted manic smiles, demonic red painted noses and arched white painted eyebrows. The paint dripped further revealing stainless steel robot hands. The man stared transfixed, his face expressionless. A mechanical shunting noise came from around a castle corner. A 10 foot heavy lifter contraption walked slowly around and into view: it had a giant red nose on the front and white arched eyebrows. A mega phone speaker inside it announced with an older ladies voice. ‘GET AWAY FROM HERE YOU LIL BITCH.’ The man looked down at his hands... they were glowing with a hint of neon red light. He found his feet and ran, the mist parted to let him through and it stayed parted to let the clowns through.

The end

By Peter Stringer

Geese

Granny Bluddyfords fed her geese. They looked bored she felt. ‘I’ll let them forage in the fields.’ Granny Bluddyfords organic farm was one of the last to convert. Solar powered contraptions now did all the work. Small fidget robots humanely kept the crops free of pests.

Granny Cripplings fed her geese. They looked a bit bored. She let them into her fields for a forage. Granny Cripplings was also one of the last to convert. She too had solar powered pest control.

Granny Bluntscar fed her geese. They also looked a bit bored. She too let them into her fields to forage. Granny Bluntscar was one of the first to convert to organic farming with robots.

Millions of geese covered the fields of Cendiary Bay. The shining white of billions of feathers looked down on the small coastal port of mirrored cube buildings; Every surface of solar panel.

The gaggle of grannies all liked to keep their geese nice and aggressive. The little fidget robots fashioned the geese’s tiny teeth razor sharp, in their sleep.

Two old lads burped and cajoled their way down a lane that runs between Granny Bluntscar ‘s farm and Granny Bluddyford's farm. They hadn’t noticed the mass of white feathers. They were drunk. Millions of goose eyes followed the two older men. One of the older men climbed a wooden stile to get into and cut across a field, he reached the top, looked out at the white masses as far as a drunken eye could see. The second old lad climbed up after him. They both stood there looking at the millions of goose eyes staring back at them. The bottle of red wine in the second mans hand slipped, the first man caught it. Not a drop spilled. They laughed and said “the geese are out again;” climbed down and wandered through the throng of white, on their way.

A rat walked along the top of a dry stone wall that ran between Granny Cripplings and Granny Bluddyfords farm’s. It was terrified. It didn’t want to know what millions of razor sharp goose teeth would do to one scrawny rat body. A rock in the wall dislodged as the rat passed. It crashed down onto the ground scaring some geese. The rat carried on along the wall. A florescent butterfly landed on the fallen rock. The minute vibration this caused cascaded through the rock and deep underground and with an unlikely twist of fate started a rare, for these lands, shockwave. An earthquake rumbled around Cendiary Bay smashing solar panels. Shards of solar panels screeched all over the streets of the modern port town. There was much blood. Granny Bluddyfords fell to the ground at the sight of a blood stained Cendiary Bay. A heart attack.

The dry stone walls, that bordered and divided all the fields, had all shook down into neat little lines: no longer goose barriers. The geese waddled onto the fields with crops and tucked in to crisp green fresh things. At the sight of this, Granny Cripplings had a heart attack and dropped to the floor. The geese gorged themselves on juicy sweet delights all afternoon.

Granny Bluntscar sat drinking tea sweetened with a little evaporated milk. A tear from one eye for her sister, a tear from her other eye for her other sister. A manic smile gleefully looked out onto her new super farm and her newly tripled evil goose stocks.

The end

By Peter Stringer

#creative story #art #scifi #fantasy #horror #movies #chilling #ghost story #subterranean #book #post apocalyptic #horror stories

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sanctamater · 7 years

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vorcotec replied to your post: HI JUST IN CASE U THOUGHT AMELIA WAS LEFT ALONE IN...

@ columbia please leave the child alone she deserves a lil fuckin peace

LET LADY COMSTOCK DECOMPOSE IN PEACE 1K912

#vorcotec #🕊️❝ OUT OF REDEMPTION ( ooc. )

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egobangin-tonight · 7 years

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If you ever include Mark's girlfriend Amy in your AU you should make her a alien (just saying)

(You must be the same anon that asked about aliens in this au lmaoo u aint slick 😂)I wont be including her bc i think amy (and signe tbhh) try to stay as lowkey and AWAY from the community as possible. Dont wanna do headcanons n shit for people that try and stay off the radar yanno? But i DID think of what they would be in my spare time and while alien is cute, i kept thinking of her as some super sweet, super lax necromancer lady uvu the scariest dark magic you can fathom with the howling spirits and glowing sigils littering the walls, creepy decomposed hands reaching out and stroking her hair back in place while she uses her power to bring back a dead hamster to add to her growing collection of cute skele-pets ✨And i pictured Signe to be a quiet, reserved spider lady :0 The sweet creepy lady at the end of the block who has an extra set of arms and eyes, hair always tied up in a lil bun and always dresses like an old lady keeping to her delicate garden lol Shes got spiders on her person at All Times and ppl get freaked out when they see them crawling on her arms and hair while shes speaking to them uvuI wont be adding them into the au but its still nice to think about :0

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imaginesbyem · 7 years

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Shopping Disasters - Stiles Stilinski

Summary: Stiles takes (Y/N) shopping after ruining her favourite jeans and tells a douche to fuck off.

Warnings: Swearing (just a lil).

Scott and I were sitting at a table in the cafeteria discussing how we were going to go about the new threat in Beacon Hills. He was struggling to come up with something which meant as always he’d come to me for help. Although I wasn’t the smartest in the group, I was one of if not the most determined. That was something I loved about myself. No matter what, I’d never give up. There was always a way.

“Well, what if I distract them by pretending that one of them is killing me but its secretly like Liam dressed up and then I can attack them when they aren’t factoring me into their plan and they’ve forgotten about me.” I suggest.

“No, too many things could go wrong. You’re scent might give it away somehow too. Theres a big difference between the smell of alive and dead people.”

“Yeah, but only after they’ve started decomposing.”

“How can you talk about something like that without even looking disturbed.” Scott shifted uncomfortably.

“Scott, come on. You’re the one thats going out and smelling this and fighting these guys all the time. Surely a conversation like this doesn't scare you that bad.” I say matter of factly as he screws his face up. I giggle which quickly stops as I hear Stiles calling out for us and running towards us and then feeling his lunch splatter all over my pants. I gasp loudly and freeze trying to wrap my head around what had happened.

“Oh my god (Y/N), I’m so sorry.” I laugh slightly in disbelief.

“That was my favourite pair of jeans.”

“I’ll buy you some more! I promise.” I start wiping myself off and laughing.

“No, its fine Stiles. Don’t stress. Lydia always has a spare set of clothes on her anyways.”

“What? Where’s the rest of it?” I ask shocked.

“It’s a skirt, (Y/N); not a thong.” She rolls her eyes with a playful smile.

“And this?!”

“A crop top?”

“Never mind, I’ll just wear the spaghetti stained clothes.”

“Uh, uh. Not on my watch. A good friend would never let you walk around wearing that. Go get changed.” She says as she throws me her clothes. I look at her skeptically before she makes a ‘shoo’ sign and I throw my head back playfully exaggerating.

“(Y/N)!” I hear from behind me. I turn around to see Stiles running towards me. “I just wanted to let yo- oh shit” I furrowed my eyebrows together.

“What?”

“You’re um... outfit.”

“Yeah, it’s Lydia’s spare. I didn’t realise it would be... well this.”

“No, no, no. You look good- It looks good. Uh-anyway, I double checked with Scott and he said that he’s working tonight so he doesn’t need any help with, y’know.” He says as he lifts his hands and does the worst impression I’d ever seen. I giggled and he quickly stopped. “So, uh if you want, like you don’t have to, but I was just thinking, I could take you out. Like to the shops. To go... shopping. Because I ruined your jeans. And-”

“If you stop talking then yes.” I laugh and he nods furiously.

“Thanks by the way. And you know what, I think the jeans you got me are even better than the ones I already had.” I smiled as we sat down in the food court.

“You don’t have to thank me. It’s my fault you lost them in the first place. I just have to quickly go pee so I’ll be right back.” He says as he walks off taking his phone.

“Hey there, little lady. Did your boyfriend leave you?” A guy who was obviously in college came over wearing his frat jumper and a dumb snapback cap.

“Oh, no. He’s not my boyfriend.” I say as I think of Stiles and smile a little. We definitely had something but nothing had happened as of yet.”

“Oh, really?” He smirks as he sits down in Stile’s seat.

“Oh, sorry but my friends coming back so you can’t really sit there.” He ignores what I say and picks a fry up off of my plate. I quickly send a text to Stiles saying ‘SOS’. “I suggest you put that fry back where it was.” He smirks and winks at me as he takes a bite out of it and puts the rest on my plate. I immediately stand up and lean over the table.

“What are you gonna do, sweetheart?” I angrily glare at him and next thing I know I had punched him in the face.

“(Y/N)? What are you doing?!” I heard Stiles say as he quickly strode towards the table. “What happened?” He asks confused to the guy sitting in his spot.

“This psycho bitch hit me!” Stiles looked at him with the most disgusting look I had ever seen. I didn’t think it was possible for Stiles to even appear that angry but if looks could kill then this asshole would be six feet under.

“Fuck off.” He said lowly. My eyes widened as Stiles rarely ever said that word.

“Excuse me?”

“Fuck. Off.” He said slightly louder but so intensely angry that the guy quickly stood up and walked off.

“Sorry, I shouldn’t have left you alone.” He hugs me.

“It’s not you’re fault. And I think I took care of him pretty well.” I smirked as I rubbed my knuckles thinking about the punch.

“Thats my girl.” He said without thinking and swung his arm around my shoulder. I froze for a second before easing into it. I picked up my bag and Stiles and I walked like that all the way back to his jeep. “Home?” He asks and I shake my head.

“Let’s go on an adventure.” I smile. Stiles returns the gesture and we drive out to the forest where we then walk through it for the next hour or so just feeling complete with one another’s company.

Time to go write my 4 Literature essays! wooo! :/

#tw #tw imagine #tw imagines #teen wolf #teen wolf imagine #teen wolf imagines #stiles stilinski #stiles stilinksi imagine #stiles stilinski imagines #dylan obrien #dylan o'brian imagine #dylan obrien imagines #dylan o'brien #fluff

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shanny-tired · 7 years

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(OOC) What it Does For Me.

Hey! How’s it going there pal? Still following this blog I see. Sick of Shanaris yet? Tell me what ya’ think of this grumpy old hag in an ask or something, if nothing else to expel some of your own dislike into the open! I’d honestly appreciate it and adore feedback.

Ah-- that ain’t why I’m writing this up though. I’m self-conscious enough as it is. Nah-- writing this up because I just thought I’d give my two-fifths of a nickle on things and stuff. Now it might get a bit TMI as we get further down, but I promise I ain’t gonna be saying what color my underwear is, if any is being worn, or how I almost kicked the bucket. This is all just a winded summary of why I write which most of ya’ probably don’t care much to hear about.

First off, for those that don’t actually know or never bothered to know-- or just don’t really care but would like some insight on the writer themselves: I’m diagnosed with major depression. Eh, so what yeah? Me and half the world, yeah? Yeah, at some times it does feel like so what. Problems are a mile away and things feel like a god damn floppy rainbow I’m riding off into the sunset, or at least a very cushioned wall. We all know how depression can be, yeah? Listlessness, gloomy, broody, isolation from others, reticent qualities, and often times emotional or numb qualities or some such. I ain’t a psychologist! Could be wrong, but that’s how I feel most days.

Alright, now it gets to the TMI part. Feel free to skip this if ya want. Oh-- and warnings on suicide and rape if you’re adverse to reading about that stuff. Look for the bold!

So...yeah! Life is shit and blah blah so forth. I’m young, probably younger than most of the people I know online think of me as. Which is good! I’m honestly flattered when people think of me as older than I truly am. As such, with the youth come times of vulnerability and ignorance and whatnot. Been through some shit man, been through a whole lotta shit that I’d be damn well happy to do without. We all have, yeah? Of course! No one has been through their life without a moment of suffering by their own perspective. Of course, what you may see as a time of suffering is often seen by others as a “Quit being a lil’ bitch you scrub.” moment. Unfortunately I’ve been through those moments. I’ve been deeper than many go and watched Death french kiss me three times over. Weren’t it for cowardice and hesitation, sloppy work or all around listlessness to even off myself? I’d be pretty dead already. If I did manage to get rid of myself, well-- I never wanted to deep-throat decomposers of the animal kingdom. Yeah, I’ve been.. numb a lot in the recent past. So numb that I hadn’t even cared about the shit that lady did to me in Junior year of high school. Or-- was it Senior year? Fuck, I really don’t remember, but it did happen, and it was my first time with anyone really. Last time I go to another chick’s house on the premise of them being my friend, yeah? I won’t touch on that too much though, no one wants to hear about that sorta thing-- not even me. Past few years up until now? Yeah it’s been pretty fucking shitty. Went like... a whole two months without shaving or bathing or washing my hair-- really nasty. No one noticed though. Or maybe no one really cared to look at the kid in college that sits in the front corners of the room to stay close to the teacher and away from the noise. A very... muted scream for help, in my experience. Yeah... it was nasty! I don’t think I’ll ever go into that realm of the pits again-- at least I hope not.

Now, I know we all didn’t come here to read about all this sad depressive shit, least I think so. I hope so! You don’t get off on my misery do you? If ya’ do well that’s.... that’s kinda hot.

I don’t wanna go on and on about my issues, so I’ll try and keep the rest short as I can, yeah? All that shit that happened to me? Tore me from the inside out. Now I ain’t saying I had it worst-- that I am the most miserable person. Nah, none of that. People out there with miles more problems than myself, but everyone reacts differently and is effected by their past whether we wanna be or not. I just... had no idea what to do at the time. So... I took to writing and RP on a playful whim. Someone said they wanted to RP with me on some other-- no through text message! And I was all like “Ah, sure, whatever, how do?”. I got given a crash course and by fuck I loved it. I loved being anything but me-- loved trying to think like someone else entirely. I loved the way it exploded in my imagination that every time I closed my eyes I saw these vibrant images of a multitude of things: sex, death, gore, hand movements, facial expression, tone of voice-- all of it was so... alive. I wanted more, so I sought more. On various different platforms until I got dick deep into the RP community on SWTOR (Star Wars: The Old Republic) back when it still dominantly existed. At the time it was just... a lot of erotic roleplay, because that’s really all there was on that game, yeah? Either you did some erotic shit, or you went and got gored by some Sith or lil’ open skirmish. I did the erotic stuff-- did a hell of a lot of it. Did I get off to it? Nah, it was just amusing and all-around pleasant to just...write in general. Even if a Chiss had to take a Rancor in the face. Fuck-- TMI again, apologies. What I’m trying to say is that RP brought me a whole realm of enjoyment and excitement to my otherwise entirely numb and shitty life that... I made it my escape.

Over the short years it only evolved and grew more complex. What was a severe detachment from my characters became an emotional connection that made me realize how alike I am to the people I write-- especially Shanaris. Maybe that’s why I enjoy writing Shanaris the most: she is more like me than I really realize. It all reached a point where I started to find friends, and eventually went back to World of Warcraft from reasons other than shitposting and ‘roleplaying’ on the Horde Moonguard server. Like-- I was roleplaying before I even really understood what it was and how it made me feel. No-- I went back to find a community that wasn’t dead and dying-- a group of friends that weren’t always down and depressive. A change of environment was needed, yeah? Well, I definitely found it and it’s been little over a year since I did.

All the Roleplay, all the writing, even writing this shitty post has been more helpful than people realize. It all started because one person decided to take a chance and RP with the quiet, idle person standing still in Cathedral square. Everyone and everything that had happened the past year was both extremely shitty and extremely helpful. We all Roleplay for different reasons and often time we need a certain drive to Roleplay. Well, not me. My drive to roleplay is the RP itself. My reasons to write is the writing itself. It helps me escape a reality I often times want nothing to do with. I would like to think this is the healthiest coping mechanism I got: writing-- typing, whatever!

Really, what I wanna say is thanks to all you lovable fuckers-- you know who you are, won’t need to tag you. Y’all been a tremendous help to me and are often times too pleasant to bear. So, do a writer a little favor the next time you’re online and ain’t got much to do? Find someone who is just sitting all by their lonesome and just... talk to them. Lotta times they may just be alone to be alone or soemthing. Other times they might be like me and have a problem initiating things, so they scream in wishful silence hoping someone notices them enough to interact. We never know until we try, yeah? It’s amazing how such simple gestures can help people along just a little bit further.

Again, thanks to you all for reading this, Roleplaying with me, or just being an all-round good person to chat with. Alright, I’ll give the blog back to Shanaris and the memes. Thanks for reading down this far guys! And thanks again for the fun times and future times to come.

#ooc #Just the writer #writing #reasons #thanks guys

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alliancea · 7 years

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The Curious Incident Of The Goldfish at Christmas...

With the reference intended, this peculiar story is about the tragedy, the uppermost missed departure of George, the minuscule gold speck of a creature that somehow died (probably) a few days before Christmas. But, before explaining his death, a little back story is required.

My mother got three fish one day during early 2015; three goldfish to be specific. My little brother got to name two of the goldfish, and I named one, because of the stereotypical-but-still-prevalent concept of favoritism. Or the fact that he was younger. Probably both. I named mine Chelsea because that was what I wanted to be called at the time now, and my lil bro named his Peppa and George, after the masterpiece called Peppa Pig. They were swimming as happily as a caged fish could swim.

Peppa died. My brother cried. No one else really cared.

Due to his whining, mum finally got another fish - not a goldfish, mind you, but a catfish. Me and my madre’s boyfriend called him Dracula! It was because we realised that catfish eat goldfish, so we made the joke of the catfish sucking the goldfishes’ blood. It wasn't too much of a concern for us though, as he was a bottom feeder.

Now to the “curious” part of the story - a couple of days before we discovered the dead pig-fish, my bird (a cockatiel named Sparkle) started crying for no apparent reason, and nothing could calm him down. And the sound! It sounds like a little girl being threatened with a knife! To her plush teddy bears! It is not a sound I wish to hear again for the rest of my short life span...

Christmas was “fun” - getting up early, socialising with my family, forced to go outside to visit more family... yeah. Fun. The presents were neat though. However, as I was fiddling with my new phone like a 66 year old techno-dinosaur trying to understand Python, I vaguely glance over to see only two fish. Ok.

Wait... Weren’t there three?

I look all around the tank. Which one’s missing? Why is it missing? Was it abducted by our alien overlords? Did it become our alien overlord? Will it take revenge on me for keeping it in captivity? ...

Mother and her boyfriend were looking as well for a solid five minutes, before this happened:

“Jordan, I... uh... found him?”

Then all I see behind the massive tank decoration/monument/castle made out of plastic was the tiny skeleton of George. All of his flesh had been striped clean off his bones, as they were the only remainder of his physical existence...

I posted it on Snapchat. It only got 21 views.

But then my theorist mind began to ponder and ponder. Did Dracula really such his blood? Did Chelsea (who is obese) join in on the scoffing? Did they have some sort of tag team going on against George? Looking back, he probably died of natural causes, and Dracula ate him afterwards, because decomposing bodies are a part of Dracula’s diet. That’s not what I told everyone else though.

My brother got so traumatised that we sold Chelsea and Dracula with the tank for £20.

And that, ladies and gentlemen, was The Curious Incident Of The Goldfish At Christmas!

#death #goldfish #christmas #tragedy #gore #catfish #omg #rip #ripgeorge #christmasgonewrong

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