#I STILL CANT EXPRESS ALL THE EMOTIONS WITHIN ME

[onejellyfishplease]

HEIDHIDHDJDHDKJDJSHR

IVE WATCHED THIS SO MANY TIMES AHHHHHHH

I LOVE EVERY DETAIL AND MOMENT I CANT EXPRESS THISSSSSS DJHDKDJDKDJ

SCROLLLLLL SCROLL I LOVE U SO MUCH OMGGGGG THIS IS BEAUTIFUL WOAHHH EVERYTIME I WATCH IT IT GETS BETTER AHHH

ITS ALL SO FLUID AND YOUR SO TALENTED I AM ACTIVELY GOING INSANE I AM VIBRATING I AM STIMMING WILDLY

SCROLL WHEN I GET U WHEN I GET U SCROLL

I WILL FIND YOU AND I WILL SHAKE YOU AND HUG U AND THERE IS NO ESCAPE BECAUSE I WILL FIND YOU THIS IS THE BEST THING PERIOD

THE EMOTIONS OMG, THEYRE EXACTLY HOW I IMAGINED THEM TO BE!!!! AND THE SONG CHOICE IS STILL PERFECT IMMA PLAY IT ON LOOP FOR DAYS NOW JUST LIVING OFF THE DOPAMINE HIGH THAT THIS HAS GIVEN ME

I AM GONNA LISTEN TO THAT SONG AND REVEL IN THE KNOWLEDGE THAT SOMEONE AS TALENTED AS YOU MADE SOMETHING SO AMAZING ABOUT MY FIC!!! AND THEN IM GOING TO GO INSANE AGAIN

People from @onejellyfishplease 's discord already got to see this but I have decided Tumblr deserves to see this too :D

BEWARE SOME SPOILERS FOR THE FIC OPEN YOUR SHELL TO FIND YOUR WINGS!!!!

I am begging Tumblr rn to not somehow screw this up. Let the animatic play I BEG

Song used: Inertia by AJR

But yeah if you haven't realized already I made a fan animatic for jelly's fanfic, Open Your Shell To Find Your Wings :D

I am not okay. Neither is Donnie

[freakenomenon]

the fandom may not be ready for it but I Am. thinking how Ellen and Benny (as a black woman and queer man respectively) were the ones that had their sexuality specifically targeted and distorted ansd it’s simmering in my brain… would love your dissertation on it. what happened to them both feels so especially horrific and it needs to be discussed without the whole jokey tone taken on specifically for Benny’s case. maybw that’s why they appear to be close even through Ted’s constant unreliable pov since they both share a deeply personal and violating experience in relation to who they are that the others wouldn’t understand.

hoo boy. exhales. cracks knuckles.

ill start off like this 

both ellen and benny have it the worst when it comes to the survivors alterations , not ted. ( EVERYONE BOOS ) as well as the fact that AM "hating everyone equally" is simply. a lie. and they're proof of that. its insane to me that , while picking apart everyone's personalities , their flaws , what makes them tick. AM specifically chose to mangle and dehumanize the only queer man , outwardly made him look like some sex-pest brute , and then stripped him of his identity in one fell swoop. As well as reduce the only black person and the only WOMAN to the overly emotional , hysterical , whore. 

it’s incredibly fascinating to me that AM not only reduced them both to the incredibly harmful stereotypes ALREADY forced upon them by the society he turned to rubble with the flip of a switch. But also stripped them of their ability to even express themselves within , and outside of those parts of their identities. I imagine that's why they are seen to be the closest ( element of their characters that i really hated being taken away in the game. benny would not have called ellen an idiot for being scared he wouldn't he wouldn't STOP )

I can’t help but imagine that the only reason benny would have “complied” or at least pretend to comply with the system the other men likely set up with ellen is to. shield himself , create a false narrative and hide the fact that he was gay to protect himself. which, is sadly incredibly accurate to how queer people in the real world often mask their identities to survive. having to conceal a part of themself that they can't change. its also worthy to note that while benny was able to mask , ellen can't just. cover up the fact shes a black woman , she cant hide or run away or deny what she is. and in her situation , she also can't run away from the consequences that come from. Merely existing. “Wrong.” and cant shield herself from the grief and mental strain that comes with that kind of dehumanization by avoiding the elephant in the room all together. 

in my head, ellen and benny didn’t start off. Actually having sexual encounters. i imagine benny tried to get into it the first time , and ultimately was uncomfortable. only to be slapped in the face with the notion of ellen. also being uncomfortable. and still feeling as though it couldn't be avoided. Both of them having this kind of “I only agreed to this because i thought it was what you wanted.” mentality. and actually becoming attached to each other as a result. without the mental burden of thinking that the other only views them as a sexual object

yknow

only to have that all swept from under their feet by AM.

seeing ellen wiping spittle from his mouth and holding his hand and trying to make sure hes safe is genuinely kind of heart wrenching when you think of it from less of a "oh shes the nicest of course shes doing that" and more of her. trying to keep the last scraps of her friendship with the only man who actually cared for her outside of what she can offer him alive , scraping and clawing to stay attached to what used to be her only equal. man.

also about that joke tone thing.

and i hate to talk about ted for more than 5 seconds in a rant that isn't about him. but ill be honest.

people not liking benny as much as they do ted is because they cant sexualize bennys homosexuality the way they do with teds "homosexuality" ( only projected onto him because hes the only one of the five that can be perceived as a "twink" because hes a thinner man. ) because hes not conventionally attractive. in fact its a part of his CHARACTER that hes no longer attractive. and that his sexuality is something genuinely implemented into his character. so they can't be as easily weird in THAT way with benny as they are with ted.

so in turn, they make jokes about him being violated. and dehumanized. guys don't you get it. his weiner is big. laugh guys.

also people genuinely erasing a lot of ted's genuine misogyny in favor of him being the token girlboss gay guy is. i feel like calling genuinely misogynistic men gay is also a problem and. ted is the result of that problem. no he's not gay he just hates women. there is a big difference between not being attracted to women and wanting to see them suffer because they don't "know their place"

TLDR ; benny and ellen IMA GET YOU OUTTA THERE.

[diangelodork]

DBDA nightly analysis #25! (sorry i've been lacking lately, i have not been in the right mental state but i am BACK NOW BABYYYYY)

tonight's topic: crystal palace the girl that you are (character analysis bc she's been getting shit on so violently lately and DOES NOT deserve it.)

i will say - i didn't care all that much for crystal for quite a while until i really sat down to analyze her motivations and background, but it is the hate that some people have been spewing about her that motivated me to analyze her tonight.

crystal palace is flawed. of course she is. she is by no means perfect.

the first time we see her is in emma's flashback to her and crystal. she would play in a graveyard, frolicking about and taking polaroid pictures with this ghost of a young child. she was good enough friends with this child for her to seek out professional help to get her back. she was undoubtedly kind to her.

when we see her next she is dazed and confused, and still, she makes a rude remark. this is not because she is inherently bad, but because she still has that memory of being mistreated. now, she doesnt have all of her memories, but she has the memory that people weren't nice to her. she feels she must fit into that mold and that memory. the way she does that is by being a dick.

we see her a bit more in depth in her walk with charles. she expresses that she feels like people weren't the kindest to her and, knowing what we know about the way she was raised, that makes a lot of sense. she was excruciatingly neglected as a child and seeked attention. the best way to do that was negative attention. it was the easiest to accomplish.

she has her spats with edwin, but they are mostly (if not exclusively) initiated by him. she returns his energy. then we see some of the shit she goes through with david. he is incredibly abusive all throughout the series and it is very evident how predatory he is. he chose her because she was unloved. because she was vulnerable. she was easy to take advantage of.

her breaking down in E1 is so, SO important to me. we forget that she is MEANT to be flawed. she is imperfect. like the boys, she is but a sixteen year old and she is so deeply scared. she doesn't know who she is or how to cope with the fact that she doesnt know who she is. on top of that, this fucker that she's with (affectionate) won't stop shitting on her for NO reason. from the start, he was a douche to her (he has his motivations for this as well, but that doesn't mean it's not true) and now shes sitting here and calling her abuser and the fucker that has been tormenting and stalking her is being linked to her ("her demon") and she cant HANDLE that. shes been hanging on by a thread all of E1. shes been dealing with so fucking much, emotionally.

interestingly, edwin is not an emotional character when faced with other people's issues. i say this because he still garners more compassion than her. the way she treats the becky aspen case, especially, is so fragile and vulnerable. the way she immediately starts crying after looking into becky's mom's mind should have elicited more sympathy than it did and it's incredibly interesting that it didnt.

i will be the FIRST to say how important the "it's a lark to you!" scene is for edwin, but i never hear anyone discuss crystal's part in this conversation. shes so desperate and hurting and it's so strange that no one talks enough about that.

except no its not. i wish it was.

i truly think its an issue of her being a black woman and standing in the way of payneland. there is a lot of internalized misoginoir within how the fandom views her character. it is explicitly highlighted within the show how similar edwin and crystal are and a lot of the things she gets hate for are characteristics that are also incredibly prevalent in edwin's character. for example, her brashness and bluntness. it’s okay when it’s edwin, the white, queer twink of everyone’s dreams, but the second it’s a woman who is already on thin ice for the fandom because she’s standing in the way of the main ship, it’s easy to say she’s a bad person for this.

crystal is so unwavering as a character. she has such strong themes of feminism all throughout her story. she is able to separate from her abuser and intimidate and overpower him which is so STRONG. she is able to hone in on the divine femininity of her ancestors and THAT is where her power is derived from. she confronts a goddess of female vengance and justice and stands in front of her, demanding justice for the young girls slaughtered under her watch. she is inherently, at her core, good. she has done shitty, awful things in her past, but that happens when you are abused. it is not an excuse, but she is a CHILD who has been deeply abused. neglect is a form of abuse.

also, could you IMAGINE how it must feel to be such a deeply unloved character who KNOWS they are unloved. she is a psychic. she could see into the minds of her parents. she could always see their apathy. what a lonely fucking thing to go through, my god.

even still, when she was doing these awful things, she took the time to connect with a young girl and spend enough time with her for them to bond and for her to miss her. her first instinct (with the memories of her parent's neglect gone) is to cross an ocean to save a little girl. she is so deeply touched by maren and shelby's stories.

she is a flawed character, but they all are. she gets more hate than all of them and, if you are one of the people who hate her above all else, i want you to ask yourself why? these views are, of course, not held by the majority of the fandom, but it has become a big fuckin issue and i wanted to address it. acknowledge where it’s coming from, if you’re one of the people feeling a bit targeted by tonight’s analysis. love yall <3

[yanderesimp2000]

alastor ships part 1 charlastor

written by a friend because and he gave it to me so shout out to Ramazan also you owe me 200 Manat

(CANT FIND ARTIST)

ALSO IM DOING A LOTTERY I WILL RANDOMLY PICK A FOLLOWER BY USING A RANDOM NUMBER GENERATOR AND SCROLLING THAT NUMBER OF TIMES SO IF YOU WANNA ENTER FOLLOW PREEXISTING FOLLOWERS ARE ALREADY INCLUDED DEADLINE IS OCT 18TH 2024

The streets of Hell were never quiet, but tonight there was a kind of serenity, a strange calm that had settled over the chaos. The red glow of the underworld's sky cast a warm light over the towering buildings, the jagged silhouettes of demonic architecture reflecting against the fiery horizon. Within the hotel—Hazbin Hotel—things were different, quieter, though there was still an underlying tension that never seemed to leave. It was a hotel meant to reform sinners, after all, not a sanctuary of peace.

In the heart of the hotel, Alastor, the Radio Demon, leaned against the grand piano, his fingers lazily dancing over the keys. A crooked smile tugged at his lips, but his crimson eyes were focused on the figure sitting on the couch across from him—Charlie, the princess of Hell. She was sprawled out, her blonde hair cascading in waves, and her bright, hopeful eyes seemed to dull in thought. It was rare for her to be anything but optimistic, and the fact that she wasn’t smiling filled the air between them with a thick tension.

The relationship between Alastor and Charlie was not one that anyone had expected, let alone understood. Alastor was a notorious overlord, a demon with a penchant for chaos, who delighted in manipulating others and watching Hell burn. Charlie, on the other hand, was the very opposite—bright, hopeful, always searching for redemption for others. She believed, perhaps foolishly, that even the worst of sinners could be saved. Somehow, their contrasting natures had drawn them together in a strange, unexpected dance.

Alastor's smile never faltered as he watched her, his eyes narrowing in curiosity. "Darling," he said, his voice as smooth as honey but tinged with something darker, "what seems to be on that precious mind of yours?"

Charlie blinked, snapping out of her trance, and glanced at him. A soft smile pulled at her lips, though it didn’t reach her eyes. "Oh, it’s nothing, Alastor. Just...thinking."

He raised a brow, amusement clear in his expression. "Thinking? In Hell? My dear, that’s dangerous. What could possibly have you so preoccupied?"

Charlie sighed and sat up, crossing her legs underneath her. Her gaze wandered out the window, looking at the flames that licked the sky in the distance. “It’s just...I don’t know if I’m doing the right thing anymore,” she admitted softly. “The hotel, trying to help all these lost souls... What if it’s all pointless?”

Alastor's smile faded for the briefest of moments before returning, though this time it was less playful. He stood up from the piano and crossed the room, moving with his usual eerie grace, until he was standing in front of her. He knelt down, so they were at eye level, and cupped her chin with his gloved hand, tilting her face to meet his gaze.

"My dear Charlie," he began, his voice low and rich, "you've always known that this little...project of yours was a gamble. But you're not one to shy away from the impossible. In fact, I daresay that's part of what I find so...enthralling about you."

Charlie blushed, her heart fluttering in her chest. She could never quite tell when Alastor was being sincere or simply toying with her emotions. But in this moment, his words felt genuine, even if they were wrapped in his usual charm.

She reached up, placing her hand over his. "Do you really think it’s possible?" she asked softly. "That I can actually help people here?"

Alastor chuckled, a sound that sent shivers down her spine. "I think anything is possible, my dear. But whether or not you succeed—well, that’s entirely up to you." His crimson eyes glittered with something dangerous, something seductive. "You have the passion, the drive, but this is Hell, after all. You can’t change it without getting your hands dirty."

Charlie frowned slightly. “I don’t want to become like the others here, Alastor. I want to do this my way.”

“And I wouldn’t expect anything less,” he said, his tone laced with amusement. He stood up, pulling her to her feet with him. “But that doesn’t mean you can’t...bend the rules a little, does it?”

Charlie hesitated. She had always tried to maintain her ideals, to stay true to her vision of redemption. But Alastor’s words stirred something inside her, a part of her that wondered if she had been too naïve. Could she really bring about change in Hell without becoming a part of it?

Alastor, ever observant, saw the conflict in her eyes. He wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her close, and leaned down to whisper in her ear. "You know, darling, there’s nothing wrong with a little darkness. After all, it's what makes life—or death, in our case—so...entertaining."

She shivered at his touch, at the way his voice sent chills down her spine, but she didn’t pull away. Instead, she rested her head against his chest, listening to the rhythmic hum that always seemed to accompany his presence. Despite everything—despite his manipulative nature, despite the fact that he reveled in chaos—she found comfort in his arms.

“I don’t know if I’m strong enough,” she murmured. “To do what needs to be done.”

Alastor chuckled softly, stroking her hair. "Oh, but you are strong, my dear. Stronger than you know. And if you ever doubt that strength, well..." He pulled back slightly to look at her, his smile sharp, but his eyes softening ever so slightly. "You have me by your side, don't you?"

Charlie gazed up at him, her heart swelling with emotion. She knew that Alastor was dangerous, that his affection for her came with its own set of risks. But in this moment, she didn’t care. She nodded, a small smile tugging at her lips. "Yeah... I do."

He leaned down and kissed her, his lips soft against hers, yet there was always a hint of darkness in his touch, a reminder of who he was. But Charlie had come to accept that part of him, just as she had come to accept the darkness within herself.

When they pulled apart, Alastor's grin was wide, his eyes gleaming with mischief. "Now, my dear, enough of this melancholic musing. What do you say we take a little break from all this...redemption nonsense and have a bit of fun?"

Charlie raised an eyebrow, her smile returning in full force. "Fun? What kind of fun?"

Alastor twirled her around, making her laugh, before pulling her close again. "Oh, I’m sure we can think of something. After all, Hell is full of...opportunities for entertainment."

She giggled, her earlier worries fading as she leaned into him. “Alright, Mr. Radio Demon. Lead the way.”

And so, with a flick of his hand, the shadows around them seemed to shift, bending to Alastor’s will as they disappeared from the room, leaving the quiet of the hotel behind.

As they stepped out into the chaotic streets of Hell, hand in hand, Charlie realized that, despite the odds, despite the uncertainty of her mission, there was one thing she was sure of—she didn’t have to face it alone.

And in Hell, that was enough.

[quitealotofsodapop]

Now a Part Two of more info on "The Monkey King and the Infant" au:

link to part one

There's A LOT of crying and emotions between characters in this fic. Like full on "imma destroy this wall real quick" tantrums from Sun Wukong *and* Macaque. They're both deeply hurt and very bad at communicating.

Macaque's death in JTTW is canon. He had not set upon Tripitaka on his own accord - he had been ordered. He doesnt remember who gave the order though - must have drank some soup in Diyu.

Macaque believes that Lady Bone Demon only resurrected him to let her out. But she also secretly needs MK for something. Macaque prays that they never cross paths. Spoilers: they do.

Before Tang and Pigsy realised who the two monkeys actually were; they managed to get them jobs in their own workplaces. Macaque assists Tang at the University library where he works as an archivist. Sun Wukong on the other hand is the pretty host/delivery boy that charms tips out of all of Pigsy's customers. Even after the reveal, the two monkeys enjoy their day jobs.

Pigsy doesnt trust Sun Wukong to run the kitchen on his own. He does trust Macaque though, which makes Sun Wukong furious.

The co-parents learned that MK has built-in Gold Vision cus he has no filter;

MK (age 4): "What happened to your eye?" Macaque: *checks if his glamour is on* Tang: "Huh? What about his eyes? They look normal to me... oh he probably just means that little scar you have." Macaque, relieved: "Oh... this. I got in my last battle." MK: "No no! I mean your WHITE eye. The one you don't squint out of. Same side as the white streak in your hair." Macaque: "...what?" Tang, slowly realising whats going on and trying to hold back a lore infodump: "Ah! :D"

Sun Wukong will start sobbing at the drop of a hat if asked how his and Macaque's last fight went. MK learned that the hard way and it caused a crying chain reaction.

It takes Shadowpeach literal years of living and raising a child together before they realise that they've fallen back in love. Meanwhile Freenoodles got express delivery within weeks of MK being in their lives.

One of the first shapeshifting forms MK was able to take on is a brown piglet. Yes, Pigsy cried the first couple of times it happened.

Sun Wukong and Macaque shared the restaurant apartment for most of MK's childhood. Pigsy used to live there too, but moved in with Tang nearby after he took in the the soon-to-be monkey parents. He claims it was to "save up on space", but it quickly turned into something else along with his relationship to Tang. In the modern day, MK still lives in the apartment above the restaurant like in canon. Sun Wukong mostly lives at Flower Fruit Mountain when he's not staying in the city - otherwise he forcibly crashes at Macaque's loft in the University district.

MK is trans masc (he/they) in this au, as is Macaque and maybe Tang. Self projection ahoy.

Demon attacks and Human threats have followed the family throughout MK's childhood, but its nothing a superpowered team of dads cant handle. Except the first time MK scraped his knee at kindergarden and Sun Wukong was convinced that he was gonna bleed out. Or when MK got his first bad cold and Macaque ruined the kitchen trying to alchemise a cure. Or MK's first run in with a bully that made Pigsy so mad that he reconnected with Sandy to pull a "scary bodyguard" act on the bully. Or MK's first school play where he played the role as a cloud, and Tang clapped a little too loudly. Or his first- (the list goes on. these dorks are so proud of their little stone egg baby).

Please add your thoughts in the tags or send asks cus my butt's gonna write a fic soon

[stevie-petey]

could we perchance get a lil blurb about why/how reader and dustin started their code blues, or maybe just one of their code blues before all the upside down stuff started ? love seeing their sibling relationship always and i think seeing them talking and sharing emotions with each other would be really sweet <3

dustin n reader <333 babies <333

enjoy !

"just because dad left it doesnt mean you can be a bitch."

dustins words cut through you like knives.

"okay, first off, never use that word towards a girl ever again." he rolls his eyes at you and you flick his nose, which he scoffs at. "secondly, i have no idea what youre talking about."

dustin again rolls his eyes. "yeah, you do. youve been a real b- i mean, a real jerk lately."

you want to argue with him, but the words dont seem to come. all you seem to do lately is argue with everyone. and now, confronted with your little brother calling you bitch, you find that youre exhausted.

"i have, havent i?" you finally admit.

dustin nods. "yeah."

you forget sometimes how smart the kid can be. hes only nine and yet here he is, calling you out for actions you shouldve noticed yourself. hes too young to be worrying about this.

"im sorry,"

"its okay. i get it. he sucks, doesnt he?"

"he does, but im still sorry for being such a bitch."

"i thought we couldnt use that word."

you ruffle dustins hair. "nope, youre not allowed to. i am, though."

he sighs, as if expecting that response, and starts to walk out your room. the conversation doesnt feel finished yet, however, and you call after him. "wait!'

"i gotta pee."

"okay, and i told you to wait."

he groans but sits back down on your bed. "do you wanna... talk?"

"ew!"

"i know, but... im serious, buddy. we havent really talked since dad left and i realize i kinda suck as a big sister right now." you feel guilt crawling up your throat, one of the few emotions youve felt these last few days. your dad left a few weeks ago, but sometimes it feels like its been a lifetime.

"you dont suck," dustin reassures you. "youre just... scary right now."

you snort. "yeah, like thats any better."

its quiet now, and dustin sits stiffly against your bed. he seems scared being so close to you, as if you could erupt any second, and you feel horrible for it. youre not sure what you can do, though. theres still so much anger within you, resentment and betrayal, and you dont know how to express so much without hurting those around you.

then, an idea comes to you.

"what about this. we'll call it a code blue."

dustin looks up at you, curious. "whats a code blue?"

"well, my dear brother, its something we'll do when we cant express how we feel or when we think the other sibling needs to have a talk. whenever one of us calls a code blue, the other has to answer honestly and listen as best as they can. once its over, we never bring it up again and we conclude with a hug. hows that sound?"

he thinks for a moment. "honest about anything?"

"mhm,"

"alright. i think that could work. seems less emotional."

you laugh. "i figured youd like that part."

"so... code blue?" dustin asks hesitantly.

"code blue."

you tell dustin everything, explaining why youve been so destructive and bitter and mean. he listens as best as any nine year old can, and as you tell him everything, the weight that had been pressing against your chest these last few weeks begins to lessen. slowly, during the code blue, it becomes easier to breathe.

when youre finally done, right as the last words leave your lips, dustin throws his arms around you. "i love you."

you bring a hand to his hair and kiss the top of his head. "i love you, too. dont let me get all mean again, yeah?"

"i wont."

"good."

“COME HOME” BLURB MASTERLIST

if you’d like to buy me a coffee ☕︎

[dol-dee]

requesting 15 & 18 for both Dee & Limone for the ask meme! :)

stumbles back after... what feels like a month ...uh ..hi... sorry this took so fucking long... i cant stfu whoops... > (Askgame)

15. How does your OC take up space? What do they do with their hands when they talk, or how do they sit in chairs?

🌻Dee:

Dee takes up space. But less because she wants to and more because she just…  sticks out, like a sore thumb. She doesn’t mean to and honestly dislikes how shes unable to completely fade into the background most of the time.

I think she just has a *presence*, unfortunately. Just don’t mistake her self-restraint for timidness. She’s deliberately contained herself within the space she needs to take up, so do not fucking cross it.

She doesn’t gesture much anymore- she used to, back when she was a kid. Fueled by enthusiasm and plenty of anxious ticks. They sometimes resurface during emotional confrontations: picking at her nails, scratching her fingers raw, bouncing her leg a mile a minute and chewing up the inside of her mouth until it’s bloody since pain grounds her.

Nowadays she’s very stoic and reserved. Nobody can tell you’re an anxious mess when you show no sign of it. Not on your face, not in your body language. Perfectly restrained and repressed. If she does gesture it’s probably more with her head or body, than her hands (like nodding nodding in someone’s direction instead of pointing at them). It’s all in the micro expressions. Head tilts, slow blinks, shoulder movement and eyebrow twitches.

When she sits she either leans back, heavy against the chair, with her hands buried in her cardigan, legs wide but not spread, or leaning heavily on top of her thighs, glowering at you. 

🍋Limone:

I’ve kinda already went in on this on their body language post (based on one of the servers pc questionnaires), so you can check that one out as well but- 

Limone is very animated. They go from unnatural stillness to a flurry of motion. Fidgeting with their hands or objects, tapping their feet, drumming rhythms into their thighs or chest, checking their claws nails, playing with their hair or fiddling with their sunglasses. That persists when talking; they gesture and fidget a lot, always in motion- unless they’re listening. Then they’re spellbound enough that they hyperfocus on you, hanging of your lips listening to you talk with fascination, unconsciously leaning forward to get as close as possible. Limone usually sits pretty straight. Elegant with unnaturally good posture, back not even touching the backrest. It’s only when they’re sulking or annoyed that they might slouch. Slumping in the chair, like someone melting.

I’d say they don’t go out of their way to take up space, they just do. It’s not conscious but natural, like breathing for a human. They carry themself with effortless confidence. Perfectly at home no matter where they are. Oh- This is a restricted area? Only for personnel or certain clientele- They shouldn’t be here? Well.. how would you know, when they walk and talk with the confidence of someone who has never encountered a locked door in their entire life. They’re *always* in the right place because they genuinely think they are.

Catch them in your house unannounced and you might think, you forgot you invited them over. wait… do you even know them?

18. If they can or would drive, what would their car be like?

Oh god.. I’m like the worst person to ask when it comes to cars… I can’t drive (and neither do most of my Ocs) and barely have opinions on cars unless they have really fun and funky designs.. ig i prefer vintage cars if anything? Cause the designs more fun.

🌻Dee can’t drive lol. Uh.. maybe a fun or cute car like lupins fiat 500? Man… idk.. I can’t really imagine her with a vehicle. Would want smth yellow me thinks. If she could drive she would probably prefer cars just because they’re handier than bikes. 🤍Monroe, doesn’t have a license but I feel like they know how to drive. They Probably learned way too early because they were a rich lil brat. Convinced someone they were mooching off of at the time to teach them without their parents knowing, Would probably get a vintage car, Something that’s definitely built more for style and pleasure than utility. 

🍋Limone can… drive? I keep flip flopping on it. They would probably also have a stylish vintage car. Either in a nice custom phthalo green or black. They use a vintage scooter, maybe ye olde Vespa, to get around most of the time when they don’t walk or use public transit (more opportunities to meet new people yknow?)

[snowangie]

snow on the beach

a finnick odair x fem!oc series

summary: in the heart of the capitol's glittering deception, Giselle Snow, granddaughter of president coriolanus snow, conceals her true emotions while working to undermine the hunger games. sent to district 4 after the 74th Games, she grapples with forbidden love for district 4's Finnick Odair. Snow on the beach is weird but fucking beautiful - Giselle is the snow, Finnick is the beach, an unexpected yet perfect harmony in the delicate ballet of their existence. as the quarter quell unfolds, panem becomes a battleground for love and rebellion, and Giselle faces a choice that will alter destinies and unravel the threads of her past.

content warnings: swearing, smut, violence, death, torture, mentions of sex trafficking, weapons, trauma, mental illnesses

genre: angst, romance, forbidden love, violence, hurt/comfort

chapters: 1 - flecks of lights , 2 - life is emotionally abusive , 3 - time cant stop me quite like you did

chapter 3: time can't stop me quite like you did.

The passage of time in District 4 had left an indelible mark on Giselle and Finnick's complex connection. Several weeks had passed since that fateful night at Finnick's house, and the once-intimate moments between them had become scarce. The distance, both emotional and physical, lingered like a palpable ache.

As Giselle carried out her duties in District 4, she could feel Finnick's eyes on her from afar. His watchful gaze spoke volumes – a silent acknowledgment of the unspoken bond that still lingered between them.

One day, amidst her routine, Giselle received a summons from the Capitol. A person from her past life there requested her presence. She left her duties in District 4 to meet the mysterious messenger.

President Snow, in his calculating wisdom, had decided it was time for Giselle to return to the Capitol for good. Her work in the districts was deemed complete, and her presence was required for the upcoming Hunger Games. The announcement, a harbinger of tribulation, loomed in the near future.

The weight of the Capitol's expectations pressed on Giselle's shoulders as she absorbed the news. The delicate balance she had strived to maintain in District 4 was now disrupted, and the impending return to the Capitol held a sense of foreboding.

That night, as Giselle grappled with the implications of her impending departure, Finnick, unable to stay away any longer, appeared at her doorstep. Their eyes met, and a whirlwind of unspoken emotions surged between them.

She hesitated for a moment before inviting him in. The room was bathed in the soft glow of a single lamp, casting shadows that mirrored the complexities of their relationship.

In the quiet of Giselle's quarters, they finally spoke. The tension in the air was palpable, and Giselle, with a heavy heart, shared the news of her departure. “I'm leaving tomorrow, Finnick. The Capitol needs me for the Hunger Games. The Capitol is pulling me back. My work in the districts is done.”

Finnick, his gaze fixed on her, his expression revealing a mix of conflict and understanding, muttered, “They always find a way to pull us back in, don't they?”

Giselle nodded, her eyes revealing a mixture of vulnerability and restraint. “It's what I was born into, Finnick. But maybe... maybe it's a chance to change things from within.”

He nodded, his eyes reflecting a mix of understanding and frustration. “And where does that leave us? We were good. But that night at my house... things changed, and it's been hard to find our way back.”

Giselle, tracing patterns on the edge of a table, admitted, “I thought we had something real, something beyond the Capitol's games. But then I questioned it all, and it felt like everything fell apart.”

Finnick, closing the distance between them, spoke with a raw honesty, “That night was a mess, Giselle. I didn't know how to handle what we shared. I thought I was protecting you, but maybe I was just protecting myself.”

She looked up at him, her eyes searching for a connection. "We're both products of this system, Finnick. But maybe, just maybe, we can find a way to navigate it together.”

The room held a charged atmosphere as they grappled with the complexities of their connection. Finnick, his frustration evident, questioned, "What are we, Giselle? Are we just part of the Capitol's games too?"

Giselle, meeting his gaze, countered, “We can be more, Finnick. It's not easy, but we can redefine the rules. The Capitol might pull us back, but we have a choice in how we play their game.”

As the night unfolded, their conversation delved into the intricacies of their emotions, the unspoken promises, and the vulnerabilities that lay beneath their poised exteriors. In the quietude of Giselle's quarters, the echoes of their dialogue danced, revealing a connection that defied the Capitol's expectations. In the quiet intimacy of Giselle's living chambers, the air held a palpable tension—a mix of longing and the impending separation that hung between her and Finnick. The room witnessed a passionate interlude as their hearts yearned for a connection that defied the confines of Panem's expectations.

Finnick, his gaze drawn to Giselle like a moth to a flame, found solace in the softness of her presence. The flickering candlelight cast shadows that played upon the contours of Giselle's face, and he couldn't resist the allure any longer. Finnick’s gaze lingered on Giselle, capturing every detail of her presence—the soft curve of her lips, the glint in her eyes that mirrored the starlit ocean. A touch both gentle and fervent, he traced the line of her jaw, his fingers igniting a trail of sensation. In that poignant moment, he couldn’t resist the pull any longer. With a tender urgency, he cupped her face, his lips finding hers in a dance that mirrored the ebb and flow of the sea.

Giselle, acutely aware of the imminent departure that loomed, met Finnick's gaze with a mixture of love and desperation. Their lips collided in a fervent kiss that spoke volumes of the unspoken promises between them. In that moment, the world outside ceased to exist, and they were consumed by the passion that had blossomed in the midst of rebellion and clandestine whispers.

As their kiss deepened, the room seemed to pulse with the rhythm of their hearts, entwined in a dance of longing. Giselle's hands found refuge in Finnick's hair, holding onto the fleeting seconds before the inevitable separation. Every touch, every shared breath, echoed a love that had transcended the societal boundaries that sought to tear them apart. Time seemed to pause, allowing them to savor the sweetness of their stolen moment.

When they finally parted, a breathless silence enveloped the room, leaving behind the lingering warmth of their connection. In that sacred space, Giselle and Finnick were bound by a love that refused to be silenced—a love that whispered promises of reunion even as Giselle prepared to return to the heart of the Capitol's machinations.

In the fading twilight, Finnick broached the subject that lingered unspoken, “Giselle, when the quarter quells arrive, and I'm supposed to mentor the tributes, what if we plan to see each other again? Maybe not in the spotlight, but somewhere discreet.”

A flicker of hope danced in Giselle's eyes as she considered the suggestion. “Finnick, that sounds like a risky endeavor. The Capitol's eyes are everywhere. But...”

He interjected with a sly smile, “But isn't that what makes it interesting? We navigate the Capitol's games within their games.”

They shared a quiet laugh, their connection growing stronger amidst the uncertainty. Giselle, feeling the weight of her impending return to the Capitol, nodded in agreement. “Let's plan for it, Finnick. A discreet meeting during the quarter quells. Something that even the Capitol won't suspect.”

Finnick, the corners of his mouth quirking up, responded, “We'll be careful. Just a moment, a stolen breath in the midst of their orchestrated chaos.”

In the quiet hours of the night, Giselle and Finnick found solace in each other's company, away from the tumultuous world that awaited them. The moonlight bathed the room in a soft glow as they lay side by side, their shared vulnerabilities creating an unspoken bond between them. The promise of a clandestine meeting in the shadow of the Capitol's watchful gaze during the quarter quells became a glimmer of hope in the face of their imminent separation.

The room, adorned with memories of shared moments, became a haven from the harsh realities they faced. Giselle's silhouette was softened by the dim light, and Finnick's eyes traced the contours of her face, a map of both strength and vulnerability.

As they lay together, a delicate silence enveloped them, broken only by the rhythmic cadence of their breaths. The weight of their individual struggles seemed to dissipate in the intimate space they created, a sanctuary where the world's troubles held no sway.

Finnick, his fingers gently tracing patterns on Giselle's hand, spoke in a hushed tone, "In this moment, it feels like the world outside these walls doesn't exist. Just you and me, away from the Capitol's games and the district's strife."

Giselle, her gaze meeting his, whispered, "For a moment, we're free. Free from the expectations, the struggles, and the weight of the roles we play."

The moonlight cast a gentle shimmer upon them, and in that quiet intimacy, their connection deepened. The air was filled with unspoken promises, a silent pact to cherish the stolen moments they found in each other's arms.

As sleep claimed them, the room became a haven of dreams, where the echoes of whispered confessions and shared laughter intertwined. The night, despite its tranquility, carried a bittersweet melody – a reminder that the morning would bring new challenges, and the realities they sought refuge from would once again demand their attention.

In the soft embrace of slumber, The Capitol's Darling and The President's Darling, Giselle and Finnick found a temporary respite, a poetic interlude in the symphony of their intertwined lives. The moon, witness to their shared vulnerability, cast a tender glow upon their forms, creating a canvas of warmth and serenity amidst the complexities that awaited them with the dawn.

During the quiet hours before dawn, Giselle prepared to return to the Capitol, the echoes of their conversation lingered. The unspoken bond between her and Finnick, a fragile thread stretched across the divide, held the weight of an uncertain future as she embarked on a journey back to the heart of the Capitol's machinations with the uncertainty that awaited Giselle there despite the odds.

The morning air in District 4 was crisp, carrying a bittersweet undertone as Giselle prepared to bid farewell to the district she had grown to care for. She was busy packing her stuff and cleaning the house so she didn't notice when Finnick left. In the quiet moments before her public departure, Finnick reappeared at her doorstep, a silent acknowledgment of the private farewell they needed.

Giselle, wearing a somber expression, opened the door to find Finnick standing there, a necklace in his hand. The pendant, a delicate seashell, held a story of survival from his victorious Games, and he spoke with a quiet intensity, “I want you to have this, Giselle. It's been with me through thick and thin. Maybe it'll bring you luck too.”

She took the necklace, the weight of its history mingling with the weight of the moment. “Finnick, I... Thank you.”

He smiled, a mixture of sadness and understanding in his eyes. “Consider it a reminder that even in the darkest moments, there's a glimmer of hope. A proof of our time here together once. You're strong, Giselle. Don't forget that.”

As the sun cast its gentle rays, they stood in the quiet embrace of the morning, the world outside oblivious to the intimate exchange. Finnick's gaze lingered on her face again, committing the details to memory.

Giselle, feeling the weight of impending farewells, spoke softly, “Finnick, I don't know what awaits me in the Capitol, but I want you to know that you've been a light in the darkness. Whatever happens, I won't forget you.”

He nodded, the unspoken understanding hanging in the air. “You're not alone, Giselle. Remember that, no matter where you go.”

Their lips met in a lingering kiss, a silent exchange of emotions too complex for words. The taste of both sorrow and longing lingered in the air as they pulled away, their eyes locking in a silent farewell.

As Giselle stepped back, the seashell necklace clasped around her neck, Finnick's hand lingered on hers for a moment. “Go change the Capitol from within, Giselle. I'll be watching, and I'll be waiting for your return.”

She nodded, her eyes reflecting the depth of their connection. With one last glance, Giselle turned away, ready to face the public farewell that awaited her. The echoes of their intimate morning lingered in the air, a testament to a connection that defied the Capitol's expectations and a promise that the unspoken bond between them would endure, even in the face of separation.

As they parted, the sea echoed their unspoken vows, carrying whispers of promises that lingered in the salty breeze. The truth of their love burned bright, an unextinguishable flame that would endure even as Giselle embarked on her journey back to the Capitol.

With a final gaze, Giselle committed Finnick’s features to her memory—the curve of his jaw, the depth of his eyes, and the warmth of his touch. The sea sighed, a melancholic serenade, as the lovers embraced the fleeting seconds before the impending separation, their hearts entangled in a love that refused to be extinguished.

The platform near the trains buzzed with a mixture of gratitude and sadness, Giselle's departure from District 4 drawing a crowd of people eager to bid her farewell. The district's residents, who had come to admire and appreciate Giselle for her kindness, gathered to express their sentiments.

As she walked towards the waiting train, the sea of faces reflected a mix of admiration and genuine affection. The atmosphere was charged with emotion, and Giselle, humbled by the outpouring of support, acknowledged the crowd with a gracious nod. “People of District 4, thank you for taking care of me. You were a wonderful experience.”

However, amidst the heartfelt farewells, the peacemaker leader, Captain Rawlins, harbored resentment. He detested the connection Giselle had forged with the people of District 4, viewing it as a challenge to his authority. Mr. O'Brien, who had initially held reservations about Giselle, raised his hand in a three-finger salute—a symbolic gesture born in District 12 but now adopted by the people of the Districts as a sign of goodbye, admiration, and unity.

The gesture, meant as a farewell and a show of unity, spread like a ripple through the crowd. Others joined Mr. O'Brien in the salute, a silent tribute to Giselle's impact on their lives. However, Captain Rawlins saw it as an act of defiance, a challenge to the Capitol's authority.

In a swift and brutal response, Captain Rawlins approached Giselle with a stern expression. Without warning, he delivered a harsh slap across her face, the sound echoing through the platform. The crowd fell silent, a collective gasp rippling through those gathered.

Undeterred, Mr. O'Brien maintained the three-finger salute, a symbol of solidarity. The others, despite the shock, followed suit. Giselle, recovering from the unexpected blow, raised her hand in the salute as well, a quiet act of defiance against the oppression they faced.

With a forceful push, Captain Rawlins directed Giselle towards the waiting train, his displeasure evident. As the doors closed behind her, the three-finger salute lingered in the air—a symbol of resistance, unity, and the indomitable spirit that persisted even in the face of cruelty. The train pulled away, leaving District 4 behind, but the defiant gesture of the people remained etched in the memory of those who witnessed it, a silent promise that the spirit of rebellion endured.

As the train pulled away from District 4, Giselle found herself alone in a compartment, the rhythmic sound of the wheels on the tracks accompanying her thoughts. The sting of Captain Rawlins' slap still lingered, but Giselle refused to let it define her emotions.

She sat in contemplative silence, the scenery outside the window a blur as her mind churned with reflections on the events that unfolded on the platform. The crowd's supportive gestures, Mr. O'Donnell's salute, and the defiance that rippled through the people brought a sense of pride and purpose.

Giselle traced her fingers over the seashell necklace that hung around her neck, a silent reminder of the connection she had forged in District 4. Despite the confrontation with Captain Rawlins, she didn't shed a tear. There was no regret in her heart. Instead, a steely resolve settled within her.

In her mind, Giselle replayed the moment she raised her hand in the three-finger salute. It wasn't an act of submission; it was a declaration of identity, a testament to her resilience. She knew that Captain Rawlins, despite his hostility, understood the delicate dance he played by showing hostility to President Snow's granddaughter.

President Snow valued his family's image above all, and any display of aggression towards Giselle could lead to dire consequences for Captain Rawlins. This knowledge empowered Giselle. She realized that her actions, far from being a vulnerability, had turned the tables in her favor.

As the train continued its journey towards the Capitol, Giselle's gaze shifted from the passing landscapes to the reflection in the window. A subtle smile played on her lips, a sign of defiance and quiet strength. In this moment of solitude, Giselle embraced the truth that she had revealed to District 4 – that she was not just a Snow, but an individual with the capacity to challenge the Capitol's oppressive norms.

The train's rhythmic journey mirrored the steady beat of her resolute heart. Giselle, undeterred by the challenges ahead, prepared to face the Capitol with a newfound sense of purpose. The defiance that echoed through the platform lingered in her spirit, a flame that illuminated the path forward.

Upon her return to the opulent Snow Residence, Giselle's footsteps echoed through the grand corridors. The air was thick with the scent of privilege and power, a stark contrast to the simplicity she had experienced in District 4.

As she entered her grandfather's study, President Snow looked up from his desk, a cold smile playing on his lips. "Giselle, my dear, welcome back. I trust your visit to District 4 went according to plan?"

Giselle, wearing a mask of composure, nodded. “Yes, Grandfather. I executed your instructions precisely, as you would expect.”

Snow's eyes narrowed slightly, a glint of suspicion lingering. “Good, good. The reports from District 4 indicate that you've managed to maintain order exceptionally well. The peacemakers commend your leadership.”

Unbeknownst to President Snow, the truth lay shrouded in the shadows. The peacemakers, recognizing the impact of Giselle's genuine compassion, had covered for her, creating an illusion of her strict enforcement.

With a subtle inclination of her head, Giselle acknowledged his words. “I did what was necessary to ensure the Capitol's interests were upheld in District 4.”

President Snow leaned back in his chair, his fingers steepled together. “You've done well, Giselle. Better than I anticipated. I see that you are learning the capitol way, the right way. In light of your success, I have another task for you.”

Giselle's heart tightened, a mixture of anticipation and apprehension. “What would you have me do, Grandfather?”

A calculating gleam entered Snow's eyes. “The quarter quells are approaching, and I want you to work closely with the game makers to ensure their success. Your understanding of the Capitol's intricate dynamics will be invaluable.”

Giselle's facade remained unbroken as she replied, “Of course, Grandfather. It is an honour to finally be working with the gamemakers. I will ensure the quarter quells are executed flawlessly.”

As Snow outlined his expectations, Giselle couldn't help but reflect on the irony of her situation. Her acts of kindness in District 4, disguised as strict enforcement, had earned her grandfather's trust, paving the way for her deeper involvement in the machinations of the Hunger Games.

As she left the study, Giselle carried the weight of her dual identity – the granddaughter of President Snow and the compassionate force behind the illusion of order in District 4. The Capitol's games continued, and Giselle found herself entangled in a web of intrigue and deception that she would have to navigate with care to preserve her own humanity.

As Giselle navigated the intricacies of Capitol politics and her newly assigned role working closely with the gamemakers, she found herself in a pivotal meeting with Plutarch Heavensbee. The air in the dimly lit room carried an undercurrent of secrecy, and Giselle, ever perceptive, couldn't shake the feeling that there was more to Plutarch than met the eye.

Plutarch, known for his cunning strategies, glanced up as Giselle entered the room. His demeanor was calm, but his eyes betrayed a glint of curiosity. Giselle, poised and shrewd, met his gaze with a level of scrutiny that went unnoticed by many in the Capitol.

“Giselle Snow, the granddaughter of President Snow," Plutarch acknowledged with a diplomatic nod. "Word has it that you've just returned from District 4, where your strict leadership has yielded positive results.”

Giselle, choosing her words carefully, replied, “Indeed, I did my duty as instructed. Maintaining order is crucial, especially in these times.”

Plutarch's gaze lingered, and a subtle smile played on his lips. “Order, yes. But sometimes, the Capitol's definition of order can be... restrictive. Wouldn't you agree?”

Giselle, sensing an opportunity to gauge Plutarch's intentions, replied with a measured tone, “Order is necessary, but it should not come at the cost of humanity. The people need to feel a connection, a sense of hope.”

Plutarch raised an eyebrow, intrigued by Giselle's response. “Hope, you say? An interesting perspective, especially in these trying times. The Capitol could use more individuals who understand the importance of hope.”

As the conversation unfolded, both Giselle and Plutarch danced around the unspoken truth. Giselle, suspecting that Plutarch had motives beyond the Capitol's facade, subtly tested the waters. Plutarch, in turn, observed Giselle's reactions, sensing a potential ally in the granddaughter of President Snow.

Little did they know that their paths, entwined by the complexities of the Capitol's political landscape, would lead to an alliance that could play a crucial role in the rebellion against the oppressive regime. In the shadows of secrecy, Giselle and Plutarch began a delicate dance, each harboring their own ambitions for change in a world defined by control and deception.

As Giselle delved into her responsibilities working closely with the gamemakers, her meticulous attention to detail caught the eye of Plutarch Heavensbee. Intrigued, he approached her during a break, something on her neck captured his attention—a delicate necklace with a seashell pendant.

Recognition flickered in Plutarch's eyes. Finnick, a linchpin in his covert plans for the rebellion, had garnered his favor for his potential to sway public opinion. The realization that Giselle possessed a tangible link to Finnick Odair shifted Plutarch's perception of her. He saw beyond the president's darling granddaughter facade; he saw a connection to the rebellion, a vulnerability that could be exploited for the greater cause.

Intrigued by the possibilities, Plutarch subtly approached Giselle during a break in her tasks. “Giselle Snow, a granddaughter of the Capitol, adorned with a piece of District 4's history. What does the seashell represent to you?” he inquired, his tone a mix of curiosity and calculated interest.

Giselle, momentarily caught off guard, composed herself. “It's a gift, a token from District 4. A reminder of the relationships we forge in unexpected places.”

Plutarch, maintaining an air of congeniality, pressed further. “District 4, where you executed 'strict leadership' as per President Snow's orders. Interesting choice of words, considering the Capitol's narrative. Is there more to your story, Giselle?”

Giselle, cautious but quick-witted, responded, “Perhaps, but some stories are better left unsaid, don't you think?”

Plutarch, concealing his scheming thoughts behind a diplomatic smile, replied, “Indeed, my dear. Some stories unfold in the most unexpected ways.”

After the surface-level narrative, Plutarch observed Giselle closely over the next few days. He watched her interactions, noted the subtleties in her expressions, and scrutinized the moments when she believed herself unobserved. It was in these unguarded instances that Plutarch sought to uncover the truth behind the Capitol's darling granddaughter.

As he delved deeper into his surveillance, a revelation emerged—Giselle and Finnick Odair had shared more than a symbolic necklace. There was an unspoken history, a connection that transcended the Capitol's expectations. Plutarch, realizing the depth of their association, saw an opportunity to leverage Giselle's personal ties for the rebellion.

In the shadowy corridors of the Capitol, where deception and strategy intertwined, Plutarch Heavensbee, master of manipulation, set his sights on Giselle Snow as a potential asset—a pawn with a hidden history that could influence the unfolding rebellion in ways he had yet to fathom.

The connection between Giselle and Finnick, coupled with her nuanced perspective, presented an opportunity—one that could be manipulated to further the rebellion's cause. In the intricate game of political chess, Giselle became a pawn whose moves could influence the grand design Plutarch had set in motion.

In the midst of the Capitol's dazzling extravagance, Giselle found herself lost in a sea of wealth, the rhythmic pulse of the music reverberating through the grand halls. The air was thick with laughter, the clinking of glasses, and the superficial conversations of Capitol elites.

As she moved gracefully through the crowd, her eyes caught the glimmering chandeliers overhead, reminiscent of the stars that adorned the night sky. A wave of nostalgia washed over her as she remembered the quiet moments beneath the District 4 sky, far, far away from the Capitol's artificial brilliance.

Seeking solace from the overwhelming decadence, Giselle stepped onto a balcony, the cool breeze carrying whispers of distant laughter and the distant hum of the city. The moon, a delicate crescent, hung in the velvet expanse above, casting a soft glow over the Capitol.

In that moment, Giselle’s thoughts drifted to Finnick, the one person who made her feel alive in a world that often felt detached. She wondered if he, too, was looking at the same moon, a silent connection bridging the gap between their separate worlds.

With a wistful sigh, Giselle whispered into the night, “I hope you’re out there, somewhere, under the same moon. No matter the distance, our hearts are still tethered by its gentle glow.”

Her attention shifted to a couple on the dance floor below—a striking resemblance caught her eye. The man's tousled hair echoed the waves of the sea, much like Finnick's, and the woman's locks bore a familiarity to Giselle's own. The couple twirled, immersed in the music, an image that sparked a quiet daydream in Giselle's mind.

In that moment, she allowed herself to envision a future where she and Finnick could openly share their love, much like the couple below. A tender smile played on her lips as she imagined a time when their connection could be celebrated without the constraints of secrecy. While that day seemed distant, Giselle held onto the hope that one day, their love would be free to dance in the open, under the same moon that witnessed their silent promises.

The room Plutarch led Giselle to was dimly lit, casting a subdued atmosphere that matched the gravity of their conversation. As they entered, the heavy door swung shut behind them, shutting out the distant hum of Capitol life. Giselle, her gaze fixed on Plutarch, felt a mixture of anticipation and unease.

"Sit, Giselle," Plutarch gestured towards a plush chair. The air was thick with the weight of the secrets about to be unveiled. Giselle complied, her posture tense yet determined.

"I imagine you have questions, concerns, and perhaps a sense that there's more to the Capitol's narrative than meets the eye," Plutarch began, his tone measured, yet carrying an undertone of sincerity. "The truth is, Giselle, there is a rebellion brewing—a movement to dismantle the Capitol's control over Panem, to end the Hunger Games and the oppression they represent."

Giselle's eyes widened, a mixture of shock and realization. “A rebellion? But how?” Her mind raced with the implications of such a revelation.

Plutarch, choosing his words carefully, continued, “Your connection to District 4's victor, Finnick Odair, is one of the key element in our plan. His influence, combined with your strategic position, can sway public opinion and help us orchestrate the downfall of the Capitol's regime.”

The weight of responsibility settled on Giselle's shoulders. “Finnick... I knew there was more to him, but a rebellion? What's at stake? What are we risking?”

Plutarch leaned forward, his eyes locking onto hers. “Everything is at stake, Giselle. The lives of countless people, the chance for a future free from the Capitol's tyranny. The Quarter Quell is our stage, and you, my dear, are a player in this complex game.”

Giselle's mind raced, torn between the dream of a changed Panem and the realization of the dangers involved. “Finnick... What about him? I can't risk his life.”

Plutarch nodded, acknowledging the weight of her concern. “Finnick is aware, Giselle. He has chosen to be part of this rebellion, understanding the risks. We are working to get Katniss Everdeen to be the leader of the rebellion. Our Mockingjay. There have and will always be risks but the Capitol's oppression won't crumble without taking calculated chances.”

Silence hung in the room, Giselle grappling with the enormity of her role in the rebellion. Plutarch, sensing her internal struggle, spoke with unwavering conviction. “Giselle, you have the chance to be part of something extraordinary—a chance to change the course of history, to bring about a Panem free from the Games. Will you stand with us?”

The room felt charged with the weight of Giselle's decision. Her gaze met Plutarch's, and with a deep breath, she uttered, “Yes, I will stand with you. It's always been my dream to change the Capitol's ways, and if this is the way to do it, then I'm in.”

Plutarch, a hint of satisfaction in his eyes, extended his hand. “Welcome to the rebellion, Giselle Snow. Your journey is just beginning, and together, we'll strive for a Panem that is free from the Capitol's chains.”

[miaisocool]

Echoes of silence

Business man!Daemon Targaryen x College student reader!

𝐀𝐔𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐑𝐒 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄: A very short chapter but as the story progresses it will get longer and more exciting i promise and props to @kymopoleiak for making me this collage please go follow her she is also working with me as i write the chapters. This is a chapter two to Succession in the city so if you haven't read that please go do so!! check it out i will provide a link below!

Chapter one: Succession in the city

Chapter summary: You discover yourself entangled in the intricate dance of hesitation. Your Heartbeat resonating with echoes of silence and opportunity as you prepare to take the initiative. You cant help but ponder what will this engagement of communication lead to opportunities or a chapter in your life writing itself away.

At brunch:

As you walked and talked with Mia, there was a sense of comfort held within her presence as she was your childhood friend well, not technically since you only met her your freshman year of high school. she also moved to los angeles to pursue her dream of going to college in california but she wasn't sure what to study. You talked about everything from work to relationships, the conversations you guys usually held between each other flowed easily there was never any awkward silence being held or grudges against each other.

Only the feeling of each others presence comforting the two of you there was a sense of vulnerability in you whenever it came to mia she was the friend who you would come to whenever there was something that you couldn't reveal to others she was the only one that had ever seen tears flowing from your eyes which was all so new to you since sadness was the one emotion you never truly expressed to anybody, not even yourself it was a rare occurrence whenever you would break down either due to stress, sadness or just bottled up emotions of holding everything in for so long.

The streets were filled with horns honking, shoes clacking against the pavement the cool breeze swept your hair into your face, you tucked it behind your ear with a thoughtless, practiced motion, as if you'd done it a thousand times before. Your high heels clacked against the concrete as you and mia walked to your favorite brunch spot that remind you of a similar brunch spot in new york,

During your junior year of high school where your ex boyfriend took you out for a first date you were young, vulnerable and thoughtless. He was whom and what your whole world revolved around you pushed all of your friends away to make room for him causing your social skills to go down although you were very social and a great conversationalist and just a good people person in general. You felt like you were bound to him, the late night phone conversations, talking about wedding plannings and how many kids you guys would have, where you guys would settle down and his answer was usually italy which was a answer you didn't agree with since california was your mission ever since you were a young girl you felt as if he was the only guy you could ever put your trust in.

Even years after the breakup there was slight tinges of heartbreak pulling on your heart strings as you still remembered the contact of his touch the way his calloused fingers from playing guitar for you until you fell asleep would graze up and down against your soft thighs the skin to skin hard and soft contact felt comforting to you, you guys were complete opposites but there was something that spiritually connected you guys together you couldn't remember his face though it was hard to get it out when your heart yearned for him.. But you were alone now not hopeless, alone, broken but you were free, alone, still young and truly yourself.

The restaurant was your comfort spot the warmth of the sun glazed on your face bringing out your dilated pupils as you thought of the man that came up to you in the coffee shop last week. The outside fan blowing a slight coldness to your face fighting against the sunny heat of california, dishes were clanking against each other as waiters were scurrying around the restaurant as if they were rats from ratatouille helping to serve the rush of customers that came in. The modern black leathered chairs bringing out the restaurants not very vibrant atmosphere gave you a weird tinge of discomfort people walking near you and mia as you guys sat down outside listening to the birds chirp and cars pass by. You felt a knot slowly untangle in your throat as you let words flow out your mouth "I mean.. i dont know.. should i call him?" you asked under your breath as you fiddled with the glass you were holding the question hung in the air until, mia took a sip of her water. Ice clinking against the glass and then she brought back the glass down to the table "i mean whats the worse that could happen?" she said nonchalantly. Mia was somewhat right whats the worse that could happen but what could go right and if it did end up going up right what would happen?

"I dont know.. im just scared"

"Of?"

"I dont know.."

"See? you dont even know whats holding you back," mia shook her head at you as she scrolled through her phone before putting it facing down on the table again

"Sometimes, it's easier to do nothing rather than put yourself out there," you whispered the words catching the back of your throat.

"Sometimes it's ok to be the first to reach out" mia gritted her teeth in frustration as her eyes drooped low in dissatisfaction

you nodded your head cause you knew she was right

You take out the business card from your wallet, and carefully dial the number into your phone, trying to steady your somewhat shaking hand. The ringing sounds of the phone echoes in your ear as you look and make eye contact with mia as she takes a spliff of her cigarette between her cherry tinted lipstick staining thumbing the print left by her lipstick as she dusts the idle ash as her eyes connected with yours with a mere look. You feel your heart beating fast as you await to hear someone's voice on the other end.

After what felt like an eternity, the seconds seem to stretch on for an eternity before someone finally answers, and you can hear the relief wash over you as you hear, "Thank you for calling Targaryen Law and associates you’ve reached Alexa how can i assist you today?” Her voice resonated with assurance, triggering a vivid flashback to your own days in customer service. Memories flooded back from when you were just 18, working at a local grocery store. You remembered the feeling of dread each time the phone rang, the pressure to handle customer inquiries. Alexa's composed demeanor stirred those long-buried recollections, reminding you of the challenges you once faced in a similar role you didn’t enjoy it but your coworkers that got along with you made you enjoy it. you had to make a living if you wanted to end up successful or not homeless at least.

With a deep breath, you manage to clear your throat and free it from the tense knot that had formed there. The echoes of the impatient silence you heard on the phone still ring in your ears, causing a dull ache deep within your chest. You feel as if the silence itself had taken physical form.

“Yeah hi this is kiara i was hoping to speak with Mr Targaryen? is he available by any chance?”

"I understand your urgency. Let me see if I can arrange a brief moment for you. Please hold for a moment while I try to get Mr. Targaryen on the line."

You place the phone away from you as you fiddled with it in with your right hand waiting for what you assumed to be his assistant or one of his employees to say a response back quickly as if you knew the next words that were going to come out her mouth but that was a lie you didn't know her at all you wanted to, you longed for the mystery everyone had.. the mystery the people in Los Angeles held in his aura peaked your curiosity.. You take a few deep breaths to release the tension from your shoulders. As you look up, the light from the sun reflecting off the glass buildings surrounding you blinds you for a moment. A cool gust of wind blows past, bringing in the smell of flowers and city life. The sounds of honking cars, people chatting, and the hum of the city surround you, but you feel disconnected from it all being seconds or minutes away daemons presence as you were being transferred right there and on the phone with you knowing you had to take initiative.

“Daemon Targaryen speaking.”

As you heard Daemon Targaryen’s, dominant voice, a palpable sense of authority washed over you sending adrenaline throughtout your heart slowly beating at a faster tempo his words, deep and commanding, resonated through the phone, leaving no room for uncertainty. You couldn’t help but feel a mixture of respect and awe, tinged with a hint of intimidation. It was as though his voice had a magnetic pull, drawing you into his sphere of influence. His confident tone left an indelible impression.

You found yourself in shock by the way his voice flowed through your ears, each word dripping with authority and confidence. It wasn’t just the words he spoke, but the cadence, the resonance that seemed to echo in the very core of your being his words resonating with every chord coming from the music that was blasting in the restaurant. In that moment, you realized you were not just hearing a voice…

you were experiencing a commanding presence that stirred something deep within you.

“Yeah hi this is kiara… you gave me you’re Business card last week in the coffee shop i’m not sure if you remember” In a moment of panic, you found your voice, though it trembled slightly, breaking the silence that followed his powerful presence although he was over the phone and had no physical contact with you showed you how vulnerable you could be in his presence.

“Ah yes kiara i remember you, i gave you my card since i knew once how it was to be working on those weird marketing projects”

His voice had a magnetic pull, echoing into your ears It was a voice of empathy and softness, yet there was still an underlying intensity to it, as if it was trying to hold back the strength of his power. It was a voice that commanded attention and respect, yet it was also a voice that invited tenderness and compassion.

“yeah… studying marketing is weird.. it’s just that i’m struggling with it you know?”

You felt like there was barbed wires wrapped around your throat as words left your tongue when you made contact with the man who had higher power, held such a confident demeanor over you which is what possibly could’ve attracted you to call him he wasn’t ordinary like everyone else but he carried this mystery about his self and it felt like you had the opportunity to break his skin open and crawl inside his body confronting every secret he was hiding the mysteries or grudges he held against the strangers he would come across the interactions he had with a object or just a human in general made your mind wander with curiousity.

“Im available tomorrow since all my meetings were canceled due to.. god knows what.”

 his voice was like thunder sharp and commanding a touch of amusement in it, a glimmer of light that made you feel like you were the most important person in the world. His words held power, but there was a playful note in his voice, as if he were letting you in on a secret that nobody else ever had their ears opened to.

“My companys address is on the back of the card how does three pm work for you?” His deepened voice that sounded like silk against your touch intensified with curiosity that had peaked

“uh… yeah! i can meet that time at three pm tomorrow” You said overlapping the noise of the resturants music so mia could hear you. You couldn't help but feel a surge of excitement as mias eyes widened in surprise and her lips curves into a smile as she patted you on the forearm, her actions bringing back all of your senses as the man’s voice of authority and confidence had blocked out everything from the world and made you feel like there was nothing else in the world except his presence or yours. The thought made your heart race with anticipation. It was a feeling that was both exhilarating and terrifying at the same time

“I’m glad to hear that, tomorrow give me a call when you’re here” It was a voice that demanded attention, and you were powerless to resist.

His voice combined with that sentence sent adrenaline to coarse throughout your veins. slowly coming back to your senses as you take a look at the brunch spot you guys had been at for the past hour and a half the aromas of cooked foods such as eggs, toast, sausages and variety’s of different lunch and breakfast sandwiches.

The not so vibrant interior comforting your skin as you made contact with it slowly turning into a cozy sense of home the home you had back in new york the warmth of the sunlight beaming off of the windows onto your face showing all of your features to your dilated pupils and exposed pores, porcelain skin.

Unfortunately the brunch spot wasn’t in a quiet neighborhood away from the city unlike the other spots you were used to in new york you could hear horns honking the sounds of people chattering and laughing somewhat muffling the conversation you held with mia and the conversation you held not too long ago with the man.. Daemon..

Daemon targaryen

You remembered from his card that he previously handed to you

The brunch spot was perfect for chatting and enjoying the presence of loved ones.

Perhaps even daemon.

if you dared to allow yourself the possibility. But deep down, you knew that was your delusions getting to you. It was best not to set yourself up for disappointment, to keep a clear head and enjoy the moment for what it was nothing more, nothing less. As you sat there, you let out a deep breath, watching the steam rise from your lips and melt into the air around you. For now, you were content to simply relax and let the world pass you by, taking comfort in the knowledge that, in this moment, everything was exactly where it should be.

[goldenempyrean]

Making Up

〚 Notes - s6x10 rewrite but with Carina having the flu instead of food poisoning because why not :) 〛

〚 Pairing - Carina Deluca x Maya Bishop 〛

〚 Summary - When Carina gets sick during their fight. Desperate to patch things up between them, Maya cant help but want to make sure she's okay. 〛

〚 Wordcount - 2160 〛

〘 Check Out My Masterlist! 〙

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Maya took a deep breath as she held her wrist just in front of the unfamiliar hotel door as she hesitated. Miranda had told her this was room Carina had been staying in since she moved out after their fight. The Italian had only just asked her for space a few days ago but this wasn’t just for a catch up. 

Miranda had called her when she had been driving back from a call in the Aid Car with Jack to let her know that Carina had gone home from work sick. Carina never got sick; it just didn’t happen. For this to happen now, while they were arguing, whilst they were both sleeping alone. It was so unfair. 

Pushing aside her doubts, Maya gathered her courage and rapped her knuckles against the door, the sound echoing softly in the hallway. She waited anxiously, her heart pounding in her chest, until finally, she heard shuffling footsteps approaching from inside. 

The door opened slowly, revealing Carina standing there. She looked pale and exhausted, her normally vibrant eyes dulled with illness. Maya’s heart sank at the sight of her, her worry deepening. Carina’s expression hardened as she saw Maya standing there, her brows furrowing in irritation. 

“What are you doing here?” Carina asked, her voice strained and hoarse from illness. She leaned against the doorframe, her body swaying slightly, “I told you I wanted space.” 

Maya hesitated, her concern battling with the tension in the air. She stepped forward cautiously, her voice soft and tentative. 

Carina's eyes flickered with a mix of exhaustion and frustration. She pushed herself off the doorframe, her movements sluggish, catching herself on the frame to stop herself from stumbling, "I'm fine, Maya. Just- just go away." She thrown forward with a deep, raspy cough, both hands resting on her knees as she doubled over. Carina shook her head weakly and stumbled backwards when Maya reached out for her, “Don’t.” She rasped before quickly heading into the bathroom, shutting the door firmly behind her. 

Maya stood there, frozen for a moment, her heart heavy with worry. She clenched her fists in frustration. All she wanted to do was help. She knew Carina well enough to recognize when she was putting up a brave front, and it was clear that she was far from fine. She knew she couldn't just leave her alone in this state. 

"Carina, please, let me help you," The blonde pleaded softly, her voice laced with worry. 

“I told you to go away Maya!” Came the congested whine from behind the bathroom door. The firefighters eyebrows knitted together as she patiently stood outside the bathroom door. Sure, it was unlocked, that was obvious from the handle alone. Theoretically she could enter at any point, but she’d already broken enough of her wife’s trust, and they were finally beginning to patch things back up. 

“Well believe it or not we’re married and I still care about you.” Maya mumbled, her head resting on the door. It stood between them, a barrier not just of wood and metal, but of emotions, trust, and fragile reconciliation. 

✧.* 

After a few minutes, she could hear the pattering of water as the shower began to run. Maya sighed and went to go sit down on the edge of the bed. She stayed there for a moment, sitting in the silence before the thin trail of steam escaping from the beneath the door had caught her attention.  

“Darlin- Carina, look I know you don’t want me to fuss but can you please just let me in?” Maya murmured, heading across the room to open a window, “You sitting is this much steam cannot be good for you.” 

There was a moment of silence before another rough, chesty rough rattled out from within the bathroom - this time lasting much longer than earlier - making Maya wince at the sound of it.  

Carina gave an exhausted sigh from the inside the bathroom, her head dropping into her hands in defeat, “Can you please bring me my water bottle..?”  She croaked out, her poor voice sounding absolutely battered. 

The blonde turned back to the bed, looking around before noticing the pink bottle sitting on the floor beside the nightstand. She quickly picked it up and headed back to the bathroom door, pushing it open to let a wave of hot steam come flooding out. 

God - how was she breathing in there with all that? 

Through the thick steam it was hard to make out the scene but what she saw inside made her heart break a little. Carina was on the floor, leaning back weakly against the wall. Her wavy brunette hair was now messy, damp and stuck to her forehead uncomfortably whilst beads of sweat ran down the rest of her pale-olive skin.  

Maya pretended not to notice the half empty plastic water bottle well within the Italian’s reach, instead focusing on the few dozen crumpled up tissues which spilled from the trashcan and littered the floor. Somewhere amongst the discarded papers was the empty box they used to belong to. It was clear Carina had been in here for some time prior to her arrival.  

Honestly her heart clenched at the sight of her wife. She knew that if she hadn’t turned up on her own, Carina would’ve sat alone and endured this misery all by herself without a second thought. She was way too stubborn to call Maya herself, especially when they were fighting. 

For a moment, Maya just pulled herself up onto the counter, sitting quietly. She desperately wanted to just pull Carina into her arms, to apologise for the 10th time and hold her close. But they had to do this right if everything was going to go back to the way it was. Baby steps. That’s what they had go take. 

Eventually she couldn’t bare the way Carina’s head seemed to bob forward, her eyes barely open as her cheeks burned bright with fever. At this point the steam was probably doing more harm than good. She was going to overheat at this rate. 

“You think we can turn this off for a little bit? This room is too hot to be good for you.” Maya suggested, sliding off the counter to turn the shower off. 

But Carina whined a little, sniffling a thick saturated sound, “This is the only way I can breathe.” She mumbled, reaching forward to grab some toilet paper to attempt at blowing her nose with. It didn’t help much. Her sinuses were too blocked for it to provide any actual relief. 

“That bad?” Maya murmured in sympathy, she wished she could help somehow. Suddenly her eyes lit up a little as she headed back to the door where she’d left her bag. She grabbed it and came to sit back down on the floor beside Carina. The brunette gave her wife a confused look as she routed around for a bit before making a small, satisfied sound as she produced a small cylinder. 

“Try this.” She handed it to her. Carina squinted as she tried to read the label, “Its decongestant Car’, it should help clear you up a bit.” Maya explained and nodded as her wife used it. 

The Italian blinked rapidly, watery tears prickling her eyes. She hadn’t expected the menthol to be so strong. The only issue was, neither had her nose and she quickly pawed at it as the burning itch grew, she knew she was going too- 

Maya quickly thrust a towel into her hands just in-time for the brunette to duck forwards with a fit of uncontrollably, messy sneezes. Carina sniffled thickly; her whole head felt like it was spinning. There was no point trying to act neat and tidy now, so she just blew her nose into the fabric before slowly pulling her head up with a groan, “That was disgusting Maya Bishop. What even is it that thing.” She shot a watery glare at the decongestant before a stray sneeze interrupted her. 

The blonde couldn’t help but chuckle, “It cleared you out, didn’t it?” She reached out a hand to tentatively rub her wife’s back, feeling relieved when the action wasn’t rejected. 

Carina rolled her eyes just a little, “Sì… it did.” She turned away from Maya to catch a deep cough into her elbow, doing her best to keep the disappointment out of her voice when Maya’s phone lit up with a text from Jack, “Do you not need to go back to work?” She titled her head when the blonde simply silenced her phone. 

“I am working.” Maya shrugged, the familiar crease in her brow returning when she realised Carina had stopped sweating, but her cheeks were still just as flushed, “You’re dehydrated, you need to drink.” She ignored the Italian’s fussing as held the pink bottle from earlier to her lips, encouraging her to drink generously. 

“You know flu season is bad this year. It’d be irresponsible to leave you alone at the moment.” She concluded, standing up to grab a clean towel which she ran under the cold tap for a moment before wringing it out and coming back down to her wife’s side. 

Maya gently dabbed the cool cloth against Carina’s cheek, the relief it was providing was clear. She eventually let it rest on her forehead, before making her finish the rest of the water bottle. The firefighter knew all she could really do was make her comfortable, she could take her to Grey Sloan just to be cautious but they both knew the best the hospital could do was give her fluids and tell her to rest.  

She’d just have to ride it out here. 

Of course, Maya would give anything to make “here” their bedroom at home. Not some stupid unfamiliar hotel room, but she only had herself to blame for that. She wished she could turn back time and erase the hurtful words exchanged, but all she could do now was be there for her wife. 

Taking a deep breath, Maya decided to make the best of the situation. She adjusted the towel on Carina's forehead before reaching out to squeeze her hand gently. She hadn’t expected it but there was a little squeeze in return too. 

After a few minutes of soft silence, Carina tried to speak but instead was stopped by her voice catching in her throat, sending her into a rattling coughing fit, wracking her body forward with spasms as it tried to clear itself of the congestion in her lungs. 

Maya's heart clenched at the sight, her worry deepening as she watched her wife struggle. 

"Hey, easy there," Maya murmured, moving closer to support Carina. She rubbed her back soothingly, waiting for the fit to pass. When it finally did, Carina slumped against her, her breath ragged and shallow. 

"That cough really doesn’t sound great. We should probably get you off this floor," Maya decided before beginning to clear up the mess of tissues on the floor, ignoring her wife’s protests that it was her job to do that. 

She simply shook her head in disagreement. Once Maya was done, she carefully helped Carina to her feet, offering out a hand as she led her from the bathroom. Carina's steps were shaky, and Maya could feel the heat radiating from her wife's body. Once they reached the bed, she helped Carina settle in, fluffing the pillows behind her and tucking the covers around her. 

“Do you need anything? I can leave you alone if you just wanna sleep.” The blonde asked, unsure of what to do next. In any other circumstance, she would’ve climbed into bed beside her without a second thought but now she wasn’t so sure. 

Carina's breaths came out in shallow gasps as she sank into the bed, her body feeling heavy and weak. Tears welled up in her eyes, a mix of frustration and fear bubbling within her. She turned her gaze up towards Maya, her hoarse voice barely a whisper, "I don't want to be alone again.” 

This fight had had them both feeling alone, discarded and unheard. But now they were moving past it, taking measures to fix the damage they’d done. This was a step in the right direction.  

Carina sniffled again, the watery tears falling down her cheeks, “Can you stay just until I asleep please..?” 

Maya felt her heart ache at the vulnerability in Carina's eyes. She nodded softly, brushing away a tear from her wife's cheek. "Of course, love. I'll stay right here." She whispered, slipping into bed beside her. She wrapped her arms around Carina, pulling her close and planting a gentle kiss on her forehead 

They lay there in the quiet of the room, the only sound the soft rhythm of Carina's breathing. Maya held her tightly, providing the love and comfort that Carina needed right now. 

She knew she’d have to get back to work eventually. Jack had been texting her and soon they’d be worried for where she’d got to. But for now, Maya was settled just to watch over her wife for just five more minutes. 

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[freakenomenon]

Why do you like Ellen so much? /Genq

jesus christ this is a loaded question uuhhhh well. first of all. when i first drew ellen after reading the story and watching her playthrough. my immediate thought was "shes the nicest, i like her the most" and " i feel so bad for her " which. is generally the most you can get out of someone these days when talking about ellen. but because my stupid autistic ( not in a derogatory sense, i am autistic ) ass couldnt just fit in and leave it at "poor ellen!!" my brain latched onto her. and then i realized, shes the only character ( in the game ) that they didnt go out of their way to make an even more terrible person. which made her unique from the others. i found that interesting. and then i started noticing all the holes in her character. at least in the game. picking out, plucking away and putting my criticism of her treatment in the game, especially with how they handled her assault story, really kind of. made me attach to her? because, while i did find a lot that i thought was rather unnecessary.

i found it much more fun for me to explore the obscure bits of her character and flesh them out more. which made my attachment to her even stronger. and after finding out about the manual, i found more aspects of her character that i resonated with. its hard for me to explain, but ill put it in bullet points.

im black myself, and even within the flaws of harlan ellison trying to make ,, SOME kind of statement back them with her character as a black woman. i think that aspect of her ( growing up in "the ghetto", having to deal with racism even as a little girl, having nobody to attach to in the end except for the people who dont even view you as a person outside of your body and skin color. ) made her more. relatable to me.

her sexual assault story was something i latched onto, finding solace in a character who also struggles with attachment due to sexual trauma. and i found it cathartic to be able to project my hypersexuality onto a character who i view as,, kind of in the same pit as me

she struggles with her arrogance, ego, being blunt and often times being rude or offensive without meaning to be. and even sometimes with the intention of doing so without realizing the level of what you're saying. and struggling with social connection in general despite being labeled as one of "the best friends a person could have" which i also resonated with, as an autistic person.

lesbianism. not even gonna sugarcoat it here i want this woman BAD. i dont know man something in my brain saw this older woman with emotional attachment issues who would definitely not treat me the best and began nesting and laying an alien parasite between the slimy spots of grey matter that grew into a monstrous beast that would take over my body and force me to draw her putting cigarettes down peoples throats. I NEED IT. I NEED IT IMA EAT IT AHHHHH. i also just think shes really pretty, thats my wife we are married and she loves me and not you she loves ME.

I DONT KNOWW. I DONT KNOW MAN, THE AUTISM JUST LET HER CHOKE ME WITH THE CREVICE OF HER ELBOW AND IM STILL HERE MAN. I CANT BREATHE MAN.

i also feel like its important to note that even within male / man focused books, shows, movies, media in general. ive always been more drawn to the female characters. no matter how expanded on their stories are. so that also probably played a role in my attachment to her. i. feel like even all this isnt enough to express how much i like her and why. i just. hhghgdsjhgfdghjhgf eelleeennn,,,,,,, thats it thats the tldr; ellen

[redcherrykook]

( inevitable transition ) is a very incredibly and beautifully written fic. i know it was written more like a 'drabble' but i adored it so so much. i understood your feelings of being 'anxious' or feeling overwhelmed by writing it because i know how hard it is to think of someone you always write so lovingly about- as a cheater. writing angst in general as a sensitive person is already hard enough. so enough about me and im here to give you the feedback you deserve about this fic.

the way you described how oc and jungkooks love was and why it effects her so much and how she immediately knew when jungkook was changing was wonderful. you articulated the sequence so perfectly and i felt like my heart was squeezing when you wrote

"It had become routine after all, to behave like lovers." i knew it was coming when you said , " Until the lights started to give out as well, the apartment he came back to had turned dim. A house, simply that. Jungkook no longer felt home."

i completely broke. this isnt to vent to you in anyway, but to express to you how you wonderfully executed it. you made the reader feel the emotions and go through what the oc did in a way. to feel the change between the lovers. "jungkook no longer felt home" was my breaking point and i know for so many others because it does make a lot of us think " this isnt about him" but remembering that this is how it is. sometimes love doesn't last within a person and itll always hurt so much. so deeply and will always leave that scar. finishing the fic got me into a little thinking space where i wondered, ' where did it go wrong'. and in that moment i realized that i just read a masterpiece. a piece of literature that maybe a lot would say ' its literally a fan fiction' but its not even about the jungkook part of it. its the way you made me feel it.

when the only one you thought would be there to give you comfort- was the one who no longer provided the warmth in their kisses.

ive always thought of heartbreak in a way where id let anyone do anything to me, and just sit down in a corner where no body can see and cry it all out. and i still felt that even when you barely put a dialogue, thats when i know this writer really put it her all into this. maybe it seems like im over exaggerating, but practicing to express my feelings to an author who deserves good feedback- i wanted to let you know how well you write, and its not just this one. but ofcourse of all where you need to describe the feeling of not just oc, but you managed to narrate from a 3rd person and still having readers relate and feel to oc. i appreciate your work so much. love <3

oh. My. God. I'm bawling my eyes out. Im actually crying. Im so overwhealmed with happiness and grattitude right now. I cant believe you took so much time to tell me this, to appreciate this and give me such a thoughtful inside of your feelings. Im so thankful, seriously. Knowing i touched your heart means the world to me. Knowing the feelings i felt- the emotions i wanted to portray- they all transmitted, its healing. Its making me feel so many things and i dont even know what to say. Im sorry you relate to the anxiety and the hurt of losing something that used to be your place of love, of comfort. Life can be cruel, but you're build to live it. I love you so incredibly much stranger. This is framed in my heart for eternity, i will think of your words every day. Please never hesistate to contact me- to share your feelings or something, I LOVE HEARING YOUR THOUGHTS!! having my writing appreciated like this feels like im ascending, like my purpose to create is being validated. I wanna give you the biggest hug you sweet soul🖤

[eofoc]

day 15: music

I WAS WAITING FOR THIS DAY SO BADLY. GGRRGAUUUGH

each of my OCs has a playlist on youtube: Ange ✧ Yuze ✧ Juliet ✧ Roselyn ✧ Orifiel ✧ Mischa

since i think it would be way too long if i elaborated on all of them in one post (lol) i have decided to do ange and yuze :]

lyrics + ramblings about them under the cut!!! be prepared this is another embarassingly long post

YUZE

"With the salt that moves in the midsummer sea, will this face still be my own?"

boy why you so identity issue? anyways yeah since he has nothing to cling onto (his parents who were the only connection he had to his birth country are gone and he cant even remember their names) he kind of just. Yeah. boy. also i like the sea connection Yuze is just so seacoded to me

"I’m a monster who was born into this best, most beloved world An obedient puppet tossed out into an unpleasant era A spider who spins red thread, a hunter who was trapped as expected Give me a reason to live with indifference, doctor"

fits very well with him being a vampire (and everyone knowing about this fact) which certainly Does make him feel like a monster. "an obedient puppet" with how the adults around him used him esp. when he was at Eligioto's... i mean yeah.... im so sad my little guy

"A spider released outside, a batter who got a strike as expected It hurts so much to keep my expression composed; Give me some medicine, doctor"

just the "it hurts so much to keep my expression composed" im wahh WAHHH i hate him...yeah anyways the bottling everything up but in the apathetic and cold and composed calm way...........

"So, reciting a nonsense spell, chewing my fingernails, I was waiting I called out an incoherent name"

this one just makes me sad. "an incoherent name" hes calling out to all the people he already lost in his life. its not just one name. okay whatever honestly

"Without anyone holding any expectations for me, the raise of the curtain approaches The curtain has finally been raised on the theatre show of life, without a single audience member"

the way both him and Ange can relate to how people hold no expectations towards them? im a bit sickly i hope i die something is wrong with them. also the loneliness he feels again... not a single audience member...

"Painfully unpleasant, come and receive this punishment for loving me! I absolutely detest the “me” that you love Listen to this selfishness of mine!"

(slaps his head) this boy can fit so much self-hate in him. also he does feel like it would be very selfish to have any emotions for Ange... well and he also thinks that Ange absolutely hates that he has any feeling for him and Yuze is just a burden essentially (where did you get that from)

"I want to lose that “borrowed” expression of mine already It’s gradually reaching its limit, this world where you exist"

i want to lose that borrowed expression of mine already... his always calm and composed expression that hes forced to maintain..okay

"You'll only waste your tears on your palm Why did I even think of doing this?"

Ange "ill drink up all the tears you gave me" vs Yuze "youll only waste the tears on your palm" so basically Ange who loves Yuze no matter what happens and always clinging to him even if it hurts vs Yuze who thinks those feelings are a burden and a waste

"Ah, I wish you'd understand Forgetting you is no joke Ah, just stop, I don't want to bring back my past Don't look for me anymore"

forgetting you is no joke... dont look for me anymore... why are they LIKE THIS JUST TALK TO EACH OTHER however you can see yeah Yuze has a really hard time letting go of the past

"Lighting up the darkness, the stars are caressing my eyelids I hear some nostalgic voices, and I’m feeling really lonely From beyond the darkness, I hear someone calling me I’m collecting the left-behind stardust within my own palms"

wah... he knows the pain of losing someone he cares for WAY too well. so he wants to be left behind by everyone so they wont be hurt when hes gone. something is really wrong with him

"All alone, I remembered laughing with you For some reason, my emotions just kept on making noise"

childhood memories of when he still had friends and people close to him..okay.. "for some reason, my emotions kept on making noise" he is not used to feeling much at all becuase he represses so much idgaf

"If it was just a shallow nightmare, I could forgive everything Everything lightly and gently falls For some reason I’ve grown lonely"

hahaha when he was younger and his parents died and he was all alone he used to pray all the time it was just a nightmare and he would wake up soon. that did Not happen. haha. Okay

"Do the candles look forward to being used? Enjoy bidding adieu, adieu? Every word I have saved for you came out wrong afterwards So I spoke no more"

he also sees himself as only a tool to be used... also the way that he doesnt know his way with words and often comes off as too blunt or rude when he doesnt mean to #autism yesss king lets just give up on everything ever

"Must be great being you Power comes as second nature Must feel amazing to be longed for, longed for"

i dont have much to say here. i hope i die. why is he like this. power comes as second nature... he never felt like anything is in his control so he envies the siblings a lot... little does he know they dont have SHIT in control either. lol

ANGE

"I daringly wield that kitsch rubi on my own worn-out name I have become so terrifying down to my core that I could defeat nobility How do I look like now? Am I unsightly? Of course I am"

the "am i unsightly / of course i am" line makes me so ill. have i mentioned that his how hates him because he reminds her of his father and yes his looks do play into that. his green eyes especially "my worn out name" my poor little guy who thinks NOTHING about himself and hates the family he's been born into

"Neither sweet words nor a smile will work; if I start to run, I’ve become a beast"

this reminds me of his whole father situation (who ermm killed people) and how if Ange acts even a little out of the line or lets himself drop the harmless act he Will be ostracized by people and they will compare him to his father even more

“All I did was acknowledging my own whines Of course, I couldn’t even have a proper fight with you"

weeheehee he has never stood up to his mom abusing him.. heeh..haha... (collapses to the floor)

"What's wrong with loving you I'll tie you, not let anyone to touch you This must be fate, right?"

thanks god Yuze is a sore loser but the thought that he'd ever fall for someone else HAUNTS Ange. hes just mental like that. he 100% thinks they're soulmates and kills himself 5 times in his mind imagining him with anyone else

"I will drink up all the tears that you gave me You gave me a sweet lie that “it’s ok to be a coward”, have I been able to escape?"

THE WORST LINE EVER MADE. Ange thinks of himself as a huge coward in general so to have someone tell him that its okay to be afraid and its ok to protect yourself and its ok to run away sometimes... hes down Bad im afraid. "have i been able to escape" mostly relating to how he cannot let Yuze go

"Is this called 'I loved you'? Where I struggle to cling to you What's wrong with killing myself, me who you hate?"

can someone tell him suibaiting is not the key to making your boy best friend like you back "is this called i loved you" the past tense i am SO sick. the things they couldve had

"I’ve made it this far chasing your footsteps I’ll break free from this curse and spell"

see this is fun because it can be both about his family (always chasing after Juliet and her achievments, following her footsteps - the curse and spell are his family) or Yuze (hes been chasing after him for so long because he wants to reach him, the curse being their misunderstanding) weeewooo whhheeheehe

"What’s the purpose of this worthless, meaningless pride May seem unaware, but is aware of everything"

fits perfectly with how hes abandoned his pride and loves playing stupid/unaware around people to get to know more info...

"Whatever pains me, whatever saddens me, what was it that I wanted to say? I walked through a town that doesn't know you."

THIS IS SUCH AN ANGE SONG ITS NOT EVEN FUNNY... especially regarding his relationship towards Yuze.. the pain of missing someone and grieving what you couldve had.... the knowledge that the person you once loved has probably became an entirely different person that you dont know anymore.. dude whatever

"The wind blows, the sky's far away. Ah, with me having stopped somewhere, I'm scared to get to know you whom I don't know. I'm in love with a long-dead sunflower."

"im in love with a long-dead sunflower" AAJHJHBHB DUDE DUDE . DUDE. anyways yeah . once again wow Yuze has changed so much haha hasnt he (got severely traumatized) yes the long-dead sunflower is about him too i hope i die

"The shaky pleasantries and talks about nothing I've never asked for them I just wanted that gentle experience, so that I too could be kind It's all alright, all is well"

he hates high society but only really because of his father and the reputation he got.. hes jealous of Juliet whos very well liked by people and they do treat her with a gentleness that isnt extended to him

"Even today, it's another overwhelming day that makes me go crazy Even today, I'm once again laughing at my dreadful face After I have soaked myself in those sweet words, Will anyone come for me?"

"after i have soaked myself in those sweet words / will anyone come for me" referencing how much he focuses on pleasing people because he wants to appear a certain way in his eyes.. and he very secretly hopes to get some of that praise back...

""Mayday!" Even if you realize it's me, You don't need to hold me in your arms again Hey "Mayday!" If you realize it's me, Will you kindly laugh at me once more?"

im so SICKKK i sometimes forget that both ange and yuze were fucking. like. 10 when they last saw each other. like LMAOOO they have both changed so so much (for way worse) and have gone through so many things and have became basically. unrecognizable when it comes to their personalities...ok i really dgaf though . i think theyre both shocked at how much theyve changed. ange who remembers yuze as this shy but bright and kind kid whod always cheer him up suddenly meeting Whatever the fuck is this

"Wishing for what I lacked, I came face to face with a version of "me" that was nothing like myself And yet I kept going, Even through the dark night that made my head swim"

WISHING FOR WHAT I LACKED..god hes so. okay we GET IT!!! you HATE YOURSELF!! the inferiority complex goes crazy ..... he lies and tries to overcompensate so so much that he doesnt even recognize the person he is anymore

It’s trash, it’s rags The blood leaking from your heart held anger only from myself.

they both hate themselves so much. lol. lmao evem. they make me so sickly like just get normal...

‘What is it I lacked?’ After I asked God, the arrow of a fallen angel struck to silence me. I knew it from the start. I was putting on a show that I'd forgotten. I’m holding close the sword you gave me.

he feels like he just puts on a show ... also the "what is it i lacked" portion makes me a bit sick its so angecore. hes angry and feels like a lot of stuff happenign to him is unfair and like hes Right!!!!!

Why is that so? Clinging to my heart is a loneliness not unlike the silence of a winter night

angeyuze and the theme of winter...teehee..........also hes so lonely can someone save him Please

Surely, you were watching the stars alone in all your ignorance, still paying no heed to me, my eyes bloodshot.

also crazy angeyuze core. ange feeling like despite all yuze still doesnt make an effort to understand how he feels or to get closer...ouch. its a bit funny because like girl. YOU are the one constantly hiding behind a smiling mask and being like nooo hehe im fine :p

[sugar-omi]

HI IM AN INSANE BAXSTAN AND SWIFTIE AND UR RYT MR PERFECTLY FINE HAS IMMENSE BAXMC POTENTIAL

while i think its not Unlikely for mc to forgive baxter within the span of the dlc, i DO think theyre not given enough options to feel complicated abt it. u pretty much have to decide how to feel from the start, and arent given a lot of room to change ur mind. For example, my mc Anne is a very forgiving person, especially with bax bc she understands his need to be entertaining & liked. HOWEVER she starts the dlc off thinking "ok if hes gonna be distant i can do that" but then when he jokes with xavier shes like "well im CONFUSED now and i need answers" and shes irritated, but also still likes him. after the bowling she hugs him and is still like confused, but again likes him still. by the time shes baking with him, shes both confused and endeared with him but is kinda harsh with him, even when hes apologizing at the wedding.

All this to say; its not UNREALISTIC mc would forgive in that timespan, its just the lack of complexity mc is or is not afforded that makes it feel too fast. additionally, while u do get to be mad, theres no real moderation for it, and no way to be like "this is a start, but it will take time to trust him fully again". so yeah, it feels rushed and personally i think it was rushed to be released due to whatever reasons (either not caring abt baxter or wanting to work on olnf, who knows)

anyway, i would go on about baxters dlc and its shortcomings for hours if given a chance so for now ill just call it here <3 signed, 🌸Anon

YES YES I AGREE

i do think there was a lotta effort n good stuff but into baxter, and i also havent replayed it since they updated some stuff so maybe its a bit better since release

but i do agree i think the emotional range is very limited its either "idc anymore", "im mad", "i look back fondly", "im pretty sad abt it", n all that stuff n its just pretty straight forward in whatever you choose

i think step 4 is a bit short? maybe?

BUT I ALSO THINK ITS PRETTY FLESHED OUT, now i haven't acted professional w baxter, i tried but i just didnt have time to go through w the route. but there are options!!! its just one and done i think so its kinda like, you cant express How conflicted you are

bc realistically id be so sad but i also hold a grudge so id be like "yeah you say you love me n all that n i GET IT but also im scared"

BUT I ALSO THINK ITS BC WE ARE PLAYING IT WITH SEVERAL HOURS??? like MC has 5 years to get through the emotions, but the time between him saying "see you never!!!" and "omg hi, i miss u but u dont need me but i miss u?!?!!?!" is like less than 5 minutes so.....

LITERALLY I WAS PLAYING IT THE FIRST TIME N I WAS LIKE "you bastard, fuck you. i hate you. stfu. YOURE SO CUTE. you ASSHOLE. i am going to KISS YOU. i want to slap you so fucking bad right now"

like pls i was freaking out during my first playthru

i think baxter's dlc was more focused on the "i am hurt" and "i have XYZ reasons for being like this" and it goes through all that and its less "lets work through your complex feelings/this is how you reacted when we met again bc you felt/feel very conflicted and now we will work thru it"

BAXTER DLC IS LITERALLY "I CAN FIX HIM" OMFG

but honestly i like the baxter dlc better than the derek dlc bc i HATED how "i can do everything by myself!!!!" derek was in step 2 and how sibling focused it was, i man i still loved it of course but i wish derek n mc had more 1 on 1 time

and then in step 4 it was like "i missed out on everything, i feel shitty n im sorry!" and mc just.... idk maybe i need to play it again but i was still mad derek ghosted for a whole step n then it was still very family focused, and while i loved that as well

i just wanted more derek by himself, i wanted to pamper him n love him n just yk

idk, all the dlc's are so good but i do think the forgiveness is very quick which makes sense bc they're making ol2 but man, i would love if it was just double the length or half that to just flesh it out some bc i wanted some sweet moments w the boys as well :(((

ANYWAY YES I DO AGREE ITS NOT UNREALISTIC

just unrealistic for ppl like me who take 2-3 years to get over wtf happened and another 2 to actually settle in my decision to forgive 😂😂 but even then, if i had 5 years to get over it i could prbly forgive him after a lot of crying and a bit of screaming LMAO

[thatbitchsimone]

I also love Angelica and think she's so great - there's another video on her youtube where she says people should only lose their virginity in their 20's - what do you think about this? I agree with her sentiment to an extent and I do think as a woman I was put into many situations that make me feel used now and I am sure this can negatively affect men as well.. I just kind of felt ashamed/worried after watching the video because she said that having sex very young can negatively set you up for life and I agree to an extent but I think there's more nuance to it than a 20 minute youtube video can express.. And also I think the problem more with me is I didn't know to express my boundaries or communicate and people took advantage of that sometimes.. and just how women are socialised etc etc

i was just gonna watch that video but it looks like shes deleted all of those videos (which sucks ass bc she had an amazing video about the tumblr nymphet community and its parallels to nambla and how it has negatively affected us that got seduced by that little subculture back in the mid 2010s) so unfortunately i cant answer this properly bc i dont have the full context and i dont have her arguments etc but i can still give some of my immidiate thoughts on it so here we go

i think losing ur virginity/wait with sex until ur in ur 20s is probably ideal tbh and i would absolutely encourage it for anyone who is in their teens rn and havent had their sexual debut yet. main reason being that u will be old enough to understand sex and its risks and effects and u will have had time to figure ur own body out more and u will most likely have at the very least basic level emotional intelligence and maturity that is required to have safe and healthy and enjoyable sex. like u have just finished puberty and just left teenagehood behind which is a messy and confusing and rough lifestage for all of us and ur now entering adulthood and have gained some perspective etc and u are way more in tune with urself (at the very least compared to when u were a teen) and both ur body and brain will be developed enough to be able to handle sex and have a realistic attitude around it and while ofc u can still be manipulated and u may still be somewhat naive it wont be anywhere near AS easy to manipulate u as it would have been earlier bc thats just how it is. u might still be vulnerable maybe sure but if ur vulnerable now u were even MORE vulnerable when u were a teen. its just how it is. thats how growing up works. u will probably have a way easier and more enjoyable sexual debut in ur 20s bc u will have a headstart in so many ways both physically and emotionally.

BUT im not gonna pretend like its that black and white and simple. Many girls (and boys but im focusing on women here) have perfectly normal and healthy sexual encounters when they are teenagers and i rly dont believe that sex will just automatically traumatize and harm u when ur a teen bc lets be real here, the key here is that u explore sex with UR PEERS, boys and girls within ur own age group, NOT ppl that are 20+ when u are like 14-16. when ur a high schooler and u want to explore sex u do it with other high schoolers. ppl ur own age. I think its perfectly fine and normal to have sex when ur a teen, but that is assuming u are having sex with other teens. NOT ppl that are like 5 years older than u. thats when actual impactful long lasting harm becomes highly likely. feeling like u got used and heartbroken by a boy in ur school aka a boy that is ur peer and ur own age will hurt and suck and will leave an impact on u but its a very different impact than the one u will be left with if u felt taken advantaged of by someone much older (not a teen). the dynamics are whats important here i think.

sex and relationships are messy and yes u can always get fucked up from it thats just how it is. u cant avoid it. u just need to be able to handle it and maybe ur not ready to handle it until ur like 25, thats fine. dont do it then. like if u dont think ur ready, just wait until u are. if ur like 15 and feel ready then go ahead but STICK TO PPL UR OWN AGE when ur that young. u gotta be equals. period.

[spookychick78]

End Of The Line

Chapter 27: Ain't No Grave

Thomas Hewitt X AFAB!OC

Word Count: 2210

Warnings: None

guess it works for the shorter chapters

He wore the same arrogantly placed grin that haunted the nightmares she'd never shared with Thomas, but it sat crooked now and curved wickedly, exposing the barren slots where teeth used to hang. His face was different, rearranged by her husband's hands in ways that couldn't be mended. His nose had been mangled beyond repair and canted to the right, littered with roseate scars that had stained his features underneath his wrinkled skin, permanently discoloring him. They wove their way upwards to encircle his bloodshot blue eyes, accentuating their irreverent gleam from within their cavernous, crimson sockets. Sockets that had suffered the same fate as his nose, they had been rendered uneven, misshapen. Physically, he had been reimagined as the monster he'd always been, but she recognized him all the same. Hoyt Hewitt had come to claim his own depraved version of redemption. He'd come for Ronnie.

"I didn't come here to do this quick. No," he said with a shake of his head and unmoving eyes, "I came here to enjoy it. I wouldn't mind sharin' a few last words, while you can still talk."

"There ain't nothin' I have to say to you," Ronnie replied matter of factly as she held that stone cold gaze.

Hoyt huffed, "We both know that ain't true, girl," he took a step forward to test her patience with amusement in his expression that was quickly shot down when she stood her ground.

"What do you want me to say, Hoyt? You want me to beg, plead for mercy I know damn well you didn't come here to give me? Maybe you forgot, so lemme remind you," Ronnie said with her head held high and her fists clenched at her sides to hide the tremble that had inevitably struck them, "I didn't beg then and I ain't gonna now."

"You'll beg," he said confidently as he shot an admiring glance to the chainsaw he held firm in his grip, "this things pretty damn good at makin' folks, even one's like yourself, do that."

"Then start it up, you son of a bitch," Ronnie spat, "we'll see if that's true or not."

He tutted in response and her jaw clenched at the condescending infliction, "Now, what did mama ever do to deserve such disrespect? If my memory serves me right, wadn't her who sent you on your way that night?"

Ronnie didn't gratify him with an answer, instead she tried to focus on keeping her breath controlled as it whistled through her nose. He knew better than to expect a response, so he continued.

"There ain't nothin' you could say that I don't already know and nothin' she hadn't already paid for," he said, licking his teeth as he took note of the way she stiffened, "you ain't the first one I'll be usin' this on, had to make sure I got some practice in for you."

Before her eyes closed and she drew in an uneasy breath, he caught a glimmer of that emotion he'd come there to stir within her. She was afraid, and though she was doing everything in her power to hide it from him, it was bound to slip out into the open. His words had forced the reality of the situation upon her like a tidal wave of blood. It had filled the room and crept up the walls of the house where this terror she felt had been forbidden. He had come there to destroy, to fulfill a purpose who's design had been forged the moment they met. She knew it then and she knew it now as she sunk unwillingly into the indigo abyss of his unforgiving eyes, he was her death. Handcrafted from the moment she was born to mark her with an expiration date and she was well past due. She'd escaped the scythe many a time before, and even then as she stood there with fate looming over her, she searched desperately for a way to dodge it just one last time. However, in the ache of her bones and deep in the pit of her pericardium, she knew there was no way to deny the reaper this time. If she ran, Penny would pay the price. He demanded a sacrifice and it had to be Ronnie, she wouldn't allow her daughter to suffer the fate she had been destined to. She had no choice but to stand before judgement and to allow tears to fall. It wasn't her own death she was mourning, she had been faced with it so many times she refused to fear it, it was the life she would lose that brought her to tears. Within his dark, cruel gaze she saw them, the family he'd come to take her from. It was too short a time, she thought to herself as she held onto the image her mind had created of their sweet faces. She wasn't ready to leave them. How harsh it was of death to demand such a thing from her, to force her to lie down and die when she wasn't finished. She wasn't finished living, she wasn't done loving Thomas and she wasn't done teaching Penny to stand before men like Hoyt with her head held high, even when they held a knife to her throat.

She hung her head to hide the sorrow she released in a silent sob and Hoyt reached a finger out to collect the tears that fell. He studied the minuscule puddle that dripped down his index and hummed.

"These are Tommy's," he said with satisfaction before he opened his mouth to taste them, "your tears are on his hands, just like your blood."

Ronnie's head snapped up with a quick sniffle so she could return her tear stained glare to him. He sneered at the sight of reddened and glassy eyes before he continued.

"He didn't tell you did he? That he couldn't do it," he said, each word oozing such arrogance that it made Ronnie sick, "that he couldn't kill me. He couldn't admit it, could he? That he left me down there in the basement with all the other dirty little secrets he kept from you, alive. All this time you thought you were livin' with a man, I wonder what it feels like to find out you left that house with a boy. A boy who ran with his tail tucked between his legs, a coward. Tell me what it feels like, Ronnie, will you do that for me? Put my curiosity to rest."

"Tommy ain't a coward," Ronnie said with the ghost of a smile, "boy, you are dumb."

He furrowed his brow as he watched her regain the confidence he thought he'd snuffed out once and for all. Like Thomas, Ronnie had a secret of her own, one that put all the power he thought he had over her right back in her hands. It put the light he was so determined to take out back in her eyes, burning brighter than it ever had before as she spoke.

"I left with a hero, Hoyt and I left a proud woman. If you were truly a man, you'd understand that, but you're not. I knew what Tommy did because he's a man who doesn't take the easy road, that's what makes him who he is, it's why I love him and it's why I'll keep on doin' that, long after you take my life. He forgave you and his bravery, his courage in doin' that put an end to what you created. He turned away not for fear, he did what he did for love, for grace. He wasn't afraid to accept that it wasn't his job to pass judgement on an evil like you. He gave you a chance to find your way, even if it meant it would lead to this. How could you call him a coward for that? How could you believe it would make me think less of him? If that's what you came here to do, then you lost long before you even left, because I will never give you what you want, Hoyt. You will never convince me that Thomas betrayed me, because he didn't. He did exactly what I wanted him to do, he saved himself. My blood was never on his hands, it's always been on yours. So you can kill me, I can't stop you. You can be the coward you believe Tommy is, but you can't kill what I found in him. You can't tear that away from me because it isn't yours to take, you don't have that power Hoyt, you never did and you never will. It's so far above you, what he and have, and it'll go on even after this. I'll always be with him, no matter how deep you bury me or how hard you burn me, I'll find him and you'll lose."

Hoyt could feel victory slipping from his weakened grip as he watched her find resolve in the peace she'd made with her fate. His hand clung so tightly to the saw that his fingernails had dug into his palm until his own blood began to stain the handle. The wrath he'd been brought into this world with had reached its peak within his tattered body and threatened to tear him at the seams of his chest.

"Don't ruin this for me," he growled through his teeth as he pressed down on what was left of them.

"You already done that for yourself, Hoyt," Ronnie whispered as she shook her head.

She watched his blood drip down the chain on the saw and took a deep breath to still the shudder that ripped through her at the sight. She resorted to silent prayer when he reached for the trigger switch. She prayed for Penny, that Hoyt would spare her and that she was deep in sleep, deep enough to save her from the cacophony of horror that would fill the home Thomas had built for her. She prayed it wouldn't haunt her, that the memory of her mother's end would fade instead of making a home in nightmare. That she would grow tall and strong, with wild hair to remember her by. That her heart would beat like her daddy's, like a hammer hell bent on justice. She prayed for Thomas. She held on to each syllable of his name as Hoyt stepped forward and prayed she wouldn't forget how to pronounce it in death. That where she was going, she would indeed find him there, even if the comfort of his arms was forbidden, barred by whatever veil would separate the living and the dead. She could die easy if she could just watch him live, if she could see him do everything Hoyt was about to deny her of. She could rest in his smile, even if it took him years to find it again. He would, he would for Penny, she told herself. He would live for her and he would smile again, he would find a way, because nothing was impossible if you had breath in your lungs. Perhaps she would find that the same was true without a heart beat keeping steady rhythm in her chest. She had fought to do the impossible in life and won, she thought it likely she'd be able to fight her way to victory in death just the same. She knew where she was going as he pulled the switch, she could feel a warmth envelop her like a pair of strong arms she knew quite well, offering her comfort in the chaos he unleashed upon her. It was almost as comforting as their last kiss, oh but she would have wanted one more. One more to keep that fire burning as her eyes closed, to bring her back home to him.

"I love you, Thomas," she whispered before the end, but she knew he'd remember, "thank you for loving me."

For a moment, she was there with him, safe in his arms while the sun beat down on their backs in a place she remembered well. The trees were greener than they'd been that day, as was the grass and the creek didn't lack for water. There wasn't a cloud in the cerulean sky, but there was no need to seek the cover of shadows. The heat was a welcome relief to the chill of death, it forbade it from touching her. It reminded her that she had known warmth and she wouldn't have to give it up, not there. Hoyt Hewitt wasn't death, death wouldn't be so unkind as to take that from her. Instead, it extended a hand that held a promise it would keep when she took hold of it. She could wait there for Thomas if she chose to, on the banks of the creek with the sun on her skin and it would stay with her until he came home to return his hand to hers. It promised companionship. He's never far, it reminded her, just rest, be patient.

"You're better at doing that here, being patient and it won't be long," death whispered as it wiped away the tears that had come along with her, "I know better than to keep you two apart."