#she is so full of rage and also sand

[cynical-canidae]

I saw this pin and had to redraw.

[mrsnancywheeler]

let me down easy // finnick odair x f. reader

based off this blurb

summary: finnick pushed himself away, isolated himself, and you're slipping through his fingers like sand.

masterlist

3.8k words

warnings: angst, a tiny bit of fluff at the end, a little smutty but also very brief, mental illness, insecurity, paranoia, allusions to cheating (no one is actually cheating), slightly mean!finnick, self destructive behavior on all sides, more insecurities, arguments, feeling isolated, slight blood and injury, female rage things, male masturbation, unedited, no use of y/n, brief mentions of vomiting, girls girls all around, annie cresta my beloved being a girl girl, people pleaser reader

𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒

Once every day had felt like it was full of sunlight, even if there were ups and downs you always had each other by the end of it. Now you weren't even sure if you had yourself, let alone Finnick. Worst of all you had no idea what you'd done wrong, at first you chalked it up to how he'd just returned from the Capitol. But usually his isolation was a day at the most before he'd succumb to your comfort. Instead it had been nearly a month of radio silence.

He stopped the way he'd pepper your face with kisses to wake you up and bring you to the kitchen where he'd have made breakfast, telling you mindless stories about his morning swim. Now if he did anything for you it felt robotic, out of necessity, there was no helping you with your hair, having fun picking out your outfits, he was barely around. Never would you have thought you could be such an outcast in your own home, your own relationship.

At first you'd thought you just weren't doing enough, that he needed some extra love to help him open up. Reluctantly you'd fully wake yourself up when you felt him rise for his swim, take up the position of making him breakfast instead. Busying yourself with his favorites until he returned and you put on your best smile when he did, hopeful it would be somewhat successful.

“Good morning!” You greeted and were met with a confused look, a nod. You'd always hated getting up this early yet here you were and he did nothing.

“I have to take a shower." He muttered and was up the stairs. It was a disappointing resolution, but then your hopes had still been high. So you kept making his favorites throughout the next few days, scattering gifts for him throughout the house, writing notes to hide where he might find them, desperate to show him how much you loved him.

“Where are you going?" Your voice startled him and he slowly turned his head towards you.

Finnick's voice was so dry, rigid, “Fishing."

“Oh, let me get my shoes on, I'll come with!" Bright smiles, you reminded yourself when it felt like wavering.

“I'd rather go alone."

“Right." It wanted to falter so bad, “How long are you gonna be gone? I could make you lunch to go or something."

“I'm okay."

You fidgeted with your fingers, “Yeah, okay, well, um, have fun." Then he was gone, without a kiss, even a hug goodbye. Come to think of it there hadn't been any at all for a while, not even in the morning which is something he'd always do. So after a few days failing with those attempts you'd convinced yourself of a different reason.

“Annie, be honest with me, do you think I'm pretty?" The two of you had been out in the garden of Victors Village and she seemed taken aback.

“Honey, of course you're pretty. You're beautiful, what brought this on?" She dropped what she was doing to look at you.

You darted around the specifics, “What about the way I dress, is it too frumpy?"

“No! There's nothing wrong with anything about you." Her voice was so soft and she felt like the only person you could talk to now that Finnick had pushed himself away from you. “What's going on?"

You felt yourself finally crying all the held back tears you'd hid for the moments alone, “What if he's found someone prettier and more exciting?” You sobbed out and Annie hugged you.

"Finnick worships the ground you walk on, he'd never do that.”

"He barely even talks to me anymore, Annie. It's like I don't exist.”

“He's just going through a rough patch, it's not your fault."

Regardless of what Annie said, you disagreed. He must have had someone else, but you couldn't confront him about it. No, if you did then it would become real and he'd leave you for them. There had to be someone else taking on his hardships and loving him the way he'd once let you. So you bought new makeup, new lingerie, new clothes, tried to feel more attractive, more desirable. Yet it didn't seem like he even noticed.

You'd waited for his return all day, he'd left so early you hadn't even seen him. You made dinner praying that he'd see the effort you made, and find you irresistible once again. Of course, this effort seemed to be in vain.

“Welcome home, Finn!" You greeted when he walked through the front door, pained by the sound of your own faux bubbly voice. You put a plate down in front of his usual seat.

“Thanks." He mumbled and you smiled cheerfully. Perhaps you'd been too solemn and he'd prefer someone who exuded more sunshine-like behavior. “How was your day?" His voice was sharp, curt, but it was a conversation nonetheless. Always better than nothing.

“It was good!" You lied through your teeth, there hadn't been a single moment where your brain hadn't been infested with the thought of him pushing you away, him with someone else. It was something you desiped, you preferred to be in the moment. When you had been confident in yours and Finnick's relationship you could immerse yourself in the company of others, enjoy menial tasks with humming and daydreams, but now the isolation haunted your mind. “Annie and I planted some new flowers and cut some that recently finished blooming. I finally changed our vases out." He didn't even glance around, just kept eating. Your Finnick had always made an effort to look around, praise you for anything you did, he took pride in you, now the only thing he took pride in was being able to avoid you.

He curtly nodded his head in response and you felt like you might snap. Especially as the silence persisted, nothing except the sounds of the house and his fork clinking on the plate. You chewed at your bottom lip, leg bouncing up and down waiting for the smallest bit of conversation, but nothing came. Eventually you shot out of your seat, grabbed your plate, which you were sure you wouldn't be able to stomach, and began cleaning up dinner. Hands gripping each dish so hard as if to contain all the rage you'd been repressing.

“I can clean up." Finnick murmured as he rose.

Being lazy was another thing you thought could be a reason. He did so much for you and whatever you had to offer must not have been enough. Yes, he'd always insisted that you should just be his pretty girl that he could look at when he did the tasks, but in secret he must have just wanted you to resist and do more. So you vehemently shook your head, “No, I've got it!" Your voice was strained and several pitches too high to sound natural.

“It's fine, I can do it.” How dare he have the gall to sound annoyed with you.

“I've got it Finnick, just go to bed!" Or whatever the fuck else is he does to be away from you. You regretted how snappy you were, he wanted someone easy going, not how uptight you were being. But god, hate that man for how he looked like a wounded puppy dog. “Sorry." You muttered, only partially genuine. Harshly grabbing a glass to clean, hands gripping around it, so harshly it seemed that when you went to put it to dry, it shattered in your hand. Your reaction was delayed as you stood there in disbelief, you hated your life, “Fuck.”

Then his hand was on your back and you involuntarily jerked at the contact you hadn't felt for so long. “You're bleeding." How the hell was his voice still so stony, a mystery you'd never know the answer too. It sent tingles up your spine the way his hand was on your back, you missed his touch. He led you to the bathroom where he carefully tended to the cuts in your hand. Carefully taking out the pieces of glass and although you occasionally winced, it was like your brain couldn't comprehend the pain over the buzzing about his hand touching yours. But once he bandaged it up the touch was gone and so was he with a, “I'll clean up."

Fuck him, fuck him, fuck him, fuck him. But you hated being angry with him when he was probably going through something, he'd struggled so much and just needed help. Was it really excusable though when it was tearing you apart to be in all of this. You got up and without a second thought walked straight out the front door. Feet guiding you to the comfort of the beach. Of course it invoked memories of all the better times spent with Finnick, but out here at least you had the ocean. It has started to rain and you didn't care. Walking out into the sea, as far as you could touch, and letting the freedom of the waves surround you. And you screamed, at the sky, at the waters, into the night. Trying so desperately to let go of the aggression, so you could keep trying. Inhaling the salt air before you walked back inside, you could do this. Every relationship had trials and tribulations, but you could be stronger, stick together.

As you were walking back, Finnick was jogging towards you, “Are you okay?" There was actual emotion in his voice, you longed to be privileged to it more often.

“Yeah."

“I thought I… " He trailed off, hand running through his hair. The way he looked like he might cry sparked guilt in you, but also a sick pleasure that he actually cared. “You're gonna get sick." Just as quickly his tone returned to being straight-laced.

You didn't care, if you were sick maybe he would take care of you. So you walked inside and he said nothing. You showered and changed, you'd gotten a new nightgown that left little to the imagination. Maybe you could get a rise out of him, get him to touch you more. But he seemed to be fast asleep by the time you left the bathroom, so you slipped into bed beside him. In the past he'd always sleep with his arms around you, but now you slept beside each other rather than with one another. It left you cold, despite the blankets, which were barely there as he'd always been a blanket hog, which you used to tease him for, but was fine because you were attached to him. Now you laid there and felt yourself crying. You cursed yourself for it, not right now, but you couldn't stop. So you covered your mouth with a hand as you sobbed into it.

The next morning you felt him wake, but there was no energy to make breakfast. You were exhausted and it hadn't made him love you again anyways. So you drifted back off until the sound of floorboards creaking when he returned woke you up. You sat up in bed as he entered the bedroom. “Morning, Finn." The smile you worked hard to maintain was back.

“Morning." He mumbled and then his eyes faltered on you. That's when you remembered the nightgown, it was a relief for something to keep his eyes on you. ‘Love me, even if it's just for my body, love me in some way.’ Your brain begged to no avail. “Shower." He slowly said even though he'd very obviously grown hard.

You felt humiliated, completely embarrassed to be dressed the way you were and him to still not want you. It made you want to cry again, but you had to persist. Rising to get dressed until you heard your name. It took you a second to process that he was moaning it, you were right there and he was getting himself off to the thought of you when he could've just had the actual you. That had to be a new type of low. You hadn't even dared to touch yourself no matter how badly you wanted him because you knew nothing you did could match the things he'd made you feel. Yet here he was, so easily jerking off. There was nothing you could do except seethe as you got ready for your day. At least it was your name and not some other girls.

You were in the kitchen when he walked downstairs, “Going to the market." He announced and you got up from your chair.

“I'm coming too." It wasn't a question.

"No, it's okay. I've just got a couple things to grab.”

"So do I, so I'll just come along to grab them. You don't even have to stick by me, I'm just going.” You were exasperated. Honestly you hadn't left the confines of Victors Village for a while, besides when you tried to recall your look, and this would be a good opportunity to see if he was being honest. There was nothing you really had to get, but at least you'd somewhat had his company.

He said nothing but waited as you put on your sandals and then the two of you set off. The silence was deafening as you two walked, your Finnick would always hold your hand, would've taken you from booth to booth and ramble on endlessly, buy anything you glanced at with interest, but now he stood too far away for your hands to even brush by each other. The bustling of the market was a relief and for the first time in a long time you naturally smiled. Although it was jarring how quickly Finnick put on a smile, made conversation with all these people when he hadn't blessed you with the same thing. In fact, it instantly dampened your mood.

“Haven't seen you in so long, missed seeing that pretty smile!" All your favorite vendors gushed and you'd smile, make small talk. Even if everything made you think of Finnick. When was the last time he'd called you pretty? When was the last time he kissed you?

“You look a little sad, are you alright?" And you'd insist you were just feeling a little under the weather. You'd somewhat kept your distance from Finnick until you saw him laughing with a girl in the market. When was the last time he'd laughed with you? Is this what he did, found pretty girls in the market, charmed them, and went back home with them?

You'd slowly approached and showed fake interest in one of her necklaces. “They're real pearls." She said. She was so pretty, stunning. What did she have that you didn't? You hummed, smiling and without a word, Finnick was handing you money.

‘I don't want your money, I want you to pay attention to me.’ You thought and shook your head, “I don't need your money, Finn." The only thing you'd want from him was something he'd pick out because he wanted to give it to you, something he'd always done if you hadn't been there with him. Showing up at home with little treasures to show off to you. He looked at you quizzically, it wasn't like you had any money of your own on you.

“Is this your girlfriend?" The woman asked, her voice was sweet like sugar, you were too gruff, that's what you were missing.

Right now though, your voice was breathy, anxious. “Yeah." The woman must have been able to sense something off because she looked at you with pity. Finnick left the money on the counter by you regardless of what you said and walked off. You sighed.

“I'm sorry, I didn't know."

You gave a sad smile, “It's okay, not your fault." You picked the money up, ready to go find him.

“He's just a guy, even if he's Finnick Odair, don't let him dim your spark." It should've been encouraging, except you knew you loved him too much to ever leave him.

You found him, chatting and smiling as he bought produce. You missed his smile. “Here." You said quietly, handing him his money.

“Where's the necklace?"

“Didn't need it." You didn't care about needing it, you care that he would rather have you buy things for yourself then make you feel valued.

He huffed, like you were frustrating him, annoying him. “Okay, use it to find something else then. You said you weren't going to stick around me." You couldn't stop yourself from physically recoiling from his venom.

“I just came to tell you I was going home." You said weakly, staring at the ground. “Have fun." Your voice cracked slightly and you didn't even bother looking up as you walked home. Immediately settling yourself into bed where you refused to move. Eventually he came home, something clicked onto the dresser table, the sun went down and you stayed put. When he crawled into bed the most movement you made was flipping onto your side to have the protection of your back facing him.

For days it was a cycle of laying in bed, only rising once he left, usually to stand under the burning hot water in the shower until your skin felt raw. Then immediately returning back to bed. He'd return, put something on the dresser, and you'd stay still. Eventually one night he'd come home and sat at your feet, mattress dipping. “We need to talk."

Your hands clamped over your ears, this was it, he was done with you, all that effort for nothing. The anxiety knotted in your stomach, “I'm gonna be sick." You forced yourself up and found yourself throwing up in the toilet, Finnick holding your hair back.

“Hey, it's okay. It's okay, sweet girl." When you were done you said nothing as you brushed your teeth, praying he would leave and forget whatever bad news he was surely bearing. But he didn't, he waited and sat on the bed, waiting for you. Who exited, arms crossed, trying not to cry.

“Please don't break up with me." It was pathetic to beg for but he stood up, looking bewildered.

“No, no, no, I'm not gonna break up with you, sweet girl. I wouldn't even think of it." His hands cradled your face and you melted into them.

Finally you let the tears fall, "Then what are we talking about?”

"I've been so terrible to you, a terrible partner, a terrible person. I…” He took a deep breath in, "I had a rough time in the Capitol, I always do, especially last time though. And I knew you would be able to tell and try to help, but it was easier for me to just block you out so I didn't have to deal with it. Because it hurts to think about." He was crying and it made your heart ache. "And I took you for granted. I didn't try to be there for you, I was selfish and I can't make up for it enough. I will spend the rest of my life making up for it.”

You were both sobbing and he pressed his forehead to yours. His hands were so warm, his touch was so perfect. "I want to help you.”

"I know.” He pulled his forehead away, putting his hands on your shoulders. "I need you to tell me how you felt. Not the sweet way you usually explain things, be honest, so honest.

You shook your head, “No, it's okay. It was just miscommunication."

“No, I think I nearly broke you and everybody else noticed before I did. I need to know your raw feelings, so I can attempt to make it up to you.” He let go of your shoulders and sat down on the edge of the bed.

"I thought you were cheating on me.” You said quietly, anxiously playing with your fingers. He already looked hurt, "Like you found someone else because I wasn't, I don't know, fun enough, pretty enough, hardworking enough. And you didn't want me to do anything with you ever or notice anything I did for you." You took a deep breath, you could feel yourself getting angrily worked up and he could tell.

“If you're angry, be angry." He said and you obeyed.

“And I bought new clothes for you, changed my makeup routine, smiled more, made all your favorites, woke up earlier, tried to take on burdens and you said nothing. Do you know how lonely I was? How bad that made me feel about myself? One day you weren't letting me lift a finger, telling me you loved me, now pretty I was, and the next I thought I'd never hear any of that again, let alone have you touch me. No kisses, or hugs, you didn't even hold me when we slept! And you were so closed off and sometimes mean on top of that and all I wanted was your attention. Until finally I gave up because at least even if you weren't really with me, I still had you, and I didn't want you to leave me just because I found out there was someone else, which is so fucked. And then I thought, maybe at the very least, he’ll have me for my body, I had new lingerie, I tried and you didn't give a fuck. No, you got yourself off in the goddamn bathroom and I was right here!” Your voice had risen and your inhales were sharp between the ranting, "And everytime I hated what you were doing to me, I'd feel bad because what you've been through is so much worse and I should still try to be there for you. So I tried and then you'd be annoyed with me and it was like torture. And I swear to god, if you ever do that again, I'll leave.” A weight lifted off of your chest and he hugged you.

“I'm so sorry, I won't ever do it again, I love you so much, you're so pretty and kind and I need you in my life." You held onto him like he would slip away, kissing away your tears that were falling even though he was also crying. He held you until the sobbing had mostly subsided, “You know I bought you all these stupid gifts when you were laying there, thinking it would make you feel better, but I don't even think you noticed." He chuckled and you turned your head, not wanting to tear away from him. All you could see was the necklace from where you were standing. “Not that it would've done anything after all the time I spent letting the castle crumble around us.

"Thank you.” It was muttered and then he tried to pull out of the hug which made you whine. Trying to cling on forever.

His hand tilted your chin towards him, “You wanna put one of those sets on that you got for me so I can show you how pretty you are and how sorry I am for neglecting my sweet girl?"

𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒

sorry y'all angst is my default settings. thank you for reading, comments, likes, reblogs, feedbacks is all super appreciated. asks and requests are open, love you all, sorry again 💋

taglist: @wowzabowza69

[themissinghand]

WELCOME BACK AUTHOR!! WE MISS YOU!!!.Sorry I was too excited. Can I ask Kim Dokja x excited readers!. This happened after Kim Dokja became the Demon King and he came back and they both met again after a long time disappearing so she first met Kim.Com. With Kim Dokja, she is soft but with Yoo Joonghyuk, he and she's like a cat and a dog because she's still angry with Yoo Joonghyuk for punching and stabbing Dokja. (I want to punch Yoo Joonghyuk even once). She and the girls became friends especially Han Soyoung. Reader has an unexpected constellation too (make Kim Dokja surprised) because I want Reader to smile arrogantly and amused to Yoo Joonghyuk.❤️❤️❤️❤️

I believe Kim Dokja needs a full explanation to the reader because the reader misunderstood his relationship with Yoo Joonghyuk ( companion). she is like Kim Dokja, are you cheating on me?!!!.💀.

Bye-bye author,love you😘💕.

Omniscient Reader Viewpoint Back with a Bang: The Demon King Returns!

Summary: In which Kim Dokja was gone for a little longer than he expected, and now he has to deal with the aftermath. 

Or, chaos ensues, aka Dokja is a little jelly.

Pairing: Kim Dokja x F! Reader, Slight Yoo Joonghyuk x Reader

Note: Hey Anon, I wrote some similar (and emotional) stories with Kim Dokja x Reader with the whole demon king fiasco, so you can check those out! As such, I wanted to focus more on the comedy aspects since our dear squid was gone for a long time.

Also, this came out longer than I thought it would be.

Warning: SPOILERS ahead for manhwa readers. Possessive Dokja? Also swearing, pardon her french.

★・・・・・・★

Seeing your fist connect with the sunfish’s cheek and sending him into the sunset was not something Kim Dokja expected to see first after returning. 

“You son of a bitch! I’m going to send you back to the ocean if you say that again you sunfish!” Colourful language spewed out your lips as Han Sooyoung added more kindle to the flames, with Lee Jihye trying to hold you back (but failing as she was basically dragged by you across the sand). 

Meanwhile, Lee Hyunsung was trying to convince Yoo Joonghyuk to back down, but we all know that’s not happening. 

Yes, Kim Dokja had been gone for longer than he anticipated. 

The responsibilities and trials of being the Demon King had consumed him, keeping him away from the world and from you, his love and girlfriend. 

What should’ve been a tearful reunion and a mix of excitement and nervousness, turned to him trying to figure out what the heck is going on. 

[Constellation "Secretive Plotter" mentions that Incarnation “Kim Dokja” was literally a Ugly Squid] 

Kim Dokja resisted the urge to flip him off. 

Instead, with a deep breath, he called you out. 

“(Y/N)!” Your rage seemed to instantly evaporate before you had a look of wounded puppy. 

“Party pooper.” Han Sooyoung rolled her eyes, but nudged him towards you.

“Dokjaaaaaa!” Sprinting towards him, Dokja prepared for the impact, until he was completely knocked off his feet, and the two of you crashed on the ground. 

“You were gone for so long! I thought you might never come back," you exclaimed, your voice filled with emotion and buried your face into his shoulder.

Kim Dokja hugged you back, savoring the warmth of your embrace. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to be away for so long." 

As they pulled apart after a while and you helped pull Dokja up, he noticed Yoo Joonghyuk standing nearby, watching them with his usual stoic expression. Before Kim Dokja could say anything, you turned to Yoo Joonghyuk and glared.

"And you! I still haven’t forgiven the fact that you punched and stabbed Dokja! Do you have any idea how worried I was?" you snapped, crossing your arms.

Yoo Joonghyuk raised an eyebrow, unfazed by your anger.

"It was necessary."

"It was not necessary!" you retorted, your eyes blazing. "If you ever do that again, I'll punch you myself!"

Kim Dokja chuckled, trying to diffuse the tension. "Let's not fight. We have more important things to discuss."

You huffed but nodded, turning your attention back to Kim Dokja. 

"You're right. We need to catch up."

As they moved to a more comfortable area, and everyone huddled around like little ducks, Dokja learned how much the world changed without him. 

Not only had everyone become leaders of various alliances and managed areas in Korea, you had formed close bonds with them in Kim Dokja's absence, especially with Han Sooyoung. 

“You know, when you ‘died’, she fought with that sunfish every day.” Han Sooyoung whispered as others shared their stories. Dokja shifted his eyes to see her reflecting on the past. 

Dokja could see that, after all, you didn’t want him to die. 

In fact, you were willing to betray the world for him. 

You stood in front of him and raised your sword against the Kim Company, until he was the one that sent you far away. 

And when you came running through the doors like a madwoman with bloodshot eyes, it was when Yoo Joonghyuk stabbed him with his sword. 

To see you so happy and relieved at his return made him feel so guilty, after all, he couldn’t forget the look of a mix of disbelief and betrayal in your eyes back then.

After all, he promised that he wouldn’t sacrifice himself again. 

"So, Demon King, huh?" Sooyoung whispered-teased, a playful glint in her eyes. "Quite the promotion."

Kim Dokja sighed, running a hand through his hair. 

"It's a long story. But I'm here now.”"

“You better. Otherwise, she’s gonna leave you for someone better.” 

“What?” Dokja suddenly said out loud, so loud that everyone looked at him. 

“Dokja?” You looked at him confused, but he returned the same puzzled look. 

Because you had a fist against the protagonist’s cheek, whereas he had a hand around your collar as if this was a normal interaction between cats and dogs. In fact, you two looked a little childish like this. 

“Not again.” Lee Jihye huffed, and indeed everyone seemed like it was the norm since no one took it seriously. 

“By the way, (Y/N) is the dog. If you didn’t know.” Thanks Han Sooyoung. 

[Constellation "Secretive Plotter" is amused by this situation]

“Anyways, did you know that (Y/N)-ssi has a pretty strong constellation?” Yoo Sangah being the one braincell of the group successfully changed the conversion. 

“Yea, you mean a sugar daddy-” Yoo Sangah covered her mouth with a menacing smile. 

Dokja never looked so confused.

You let go of the sunfish and the other did the same with a huff. Your eyes sparkled with mischief. 

"I do. Want to see?" You grinned as you rushed over to his side. 

“You know the constellation that you said that you didn’t know much about? But then follow you around every scenario and keep donating money to you?” 

Dokja blinks and racks his brain a little, which constellation was this? If it was a powerful one, then he should know them right? 

“Say hi~”

A beat of silence. 

“Huh? He’s usually pretty talkative…at least whenever I beat up the sunfish. And he donated a lot to Dokja before.” Said sunfish scoffs before pulling out his sword as if to intimidate someone. 

[Constellation “Abyssal Black Flame Dragon” is snickering and telling the “Sugar Daddy” to come out] 

[Constellation “Prisoner of the Golden Headband” is calling his upstairs neighbour to show up like a man]

[Constellations donated 1000 coins]

Dokja suddenly remembers (he only has 4 loyal followers after all), and suddenly felt a chill go down his spine.

[Constellation “Secretive Plotter” is amused by this situation]

[Constellation “Secretive Plotter” donated 5,000 coins]

“Damn! I told you! He always donates more than double the coins!” Yoo Sangah yeets the writer out. 

When it’s finally just the two of them left, Dokja spilled everything, from his plans and thoughts and reasonings, and finally to how he ended up here.

Somewhat frightened, Dokja didn’t dare to meet your eyes, until you pulled him into a hug. 

“I’m still mad, but next time, please, let me in.” With a nod, he understood he couldn’t leave you hanging like that again. 

“But…Dokja, that aside. Are you cheating on me?” Dokja froze in your hold that suddenly feels a little tight. 

“W-What do you mean?” 

“Are you and that sunfish-” Before you could even continue, he pulled back and stared right into your eyes with absolute seriousness. 

“No. Absolutely not.” 

“You sure? Uriel-” 

“Yes. I am absolutely sure we are not what you are thinking of.” 

“Are you sure?” 

“I would rather die-” Your pointed look frightened him as he quickly corrected himself, “-rather eat tomatoes than be with him.” 

You looked surprised for a moment, and he shivered in disgust at the thought of tomatoes. 

But you still had a look of disbelief in your eyes. At least until he pulled you in for a quick kiss. 

Until one turned to two, then three in quick succession and- 

“Okay! I get it!” You bonked him on the head and he almost whined. But he decides to hold back when he sees your blushing face and cute grumpy face. 

“Fine, I trust you. Just..I need you to trust me just like I trust you.” 

“I promise.” Kim Dokja indulged in your warmth as he hugged you tightly. 

“You’re suffocating me!” 

“Sorry!” He just missed you a little too much, and he knew he had to make up for the lost time.

“What the…didn’t you say that they fought every day?” 

In fact, you and Yoo Joonghyuk were fighting at this moment, where he could feel the waves of impact graze his skin. 

To even think that you were close to the protagonist’s skill and level is crazy.

“Mhmm.” Han Sooyoung scrolled on her phone and although her expression looked relaxed, she had a smirk on her lips.

As the evening progressed, Kim Dokja noticed something peculiar. Every time Yoo Joonghyuk interacted with you, there was a subtle softness in his usually stoic demeanor. It wasn't obvious, but it was there. 

Was he overthinking it? After all, the protagonist fell in love with Lee Seolwa in his previous regressions.

The more he thought of it, the more he felt himself going crazy. Rightfully so, especially when he defeated you in the fight (spar?) and as you spewed curses at him, he pulled you up so easily by one arm. 

If only you had seen Dokja’s expression slowly morph from a suspicious to burning glare, but you couldn’t as you were dusting yourself off and trying to clean your wounds. 

But that look. 

That fucking sunfish.

Before Dokja could run over and smack that sunfish, he dared send Dokja a look as if challenging him.  

“Told you.” Dokja couldn’t even retort back to Sooyoung as he was rushing towards you while calling your name, carefully hiding his annoyed expression. 

“(Y/N), let me help you.” You accepted his hand naturally with a smile and thanks. 

But before you leave the protagonist on his own, you toss him a healing elixir. 

“I’ll defeat you next time.” 

“That won’t be possible.” He said with a smirk, and that effectively pissed you off. 

“You sunfish piece of crap-” 

“(Y/N)!” Dokja had to pull you away (even though he didn’t want to), but before he left, he sent that sunfish a victorious look. 

Even so, Yoo Joonghyuk wasn't fazed, in fact, he simply smirked, the same nasty one when he tossed Dokja into the sea in their first meeting.

Dokja needed to punch him at least once. Just once.

Maybe twice...

Later, when you and Dokja found a quiet moment alone, Kim Dokja couldn't help but ask. 

"So, about Yoo Joonghyuk... Has he always been this, uh, attentive to you?"

You looked puzzled for a moment before realization dawned. 

"Has he? Nah, he’s just an asshole. I’m the only one who dares to fight him everyday, and he’s like your typical cold duke personality man. The one who says ‘Interesting’ at anything.” Kim Dokja chuckled though still feeling a little annoyed. 

“Don't worry. You will always be better than that sunfish. You're the one I love.” You announced confidently, making Dokja feel relieved and pulling you into a hug.

"Good. Because I couldn't handle losing you to him."

Little did you know, those spars you have with Yoo Joonghyuk everyday? Now turned into 2 vs 1, and let's just say, chaos is a new norm.

[novankenn]

What If...

Pyrrha was also under the sway of Salem Cinder and Pyrrha love each other (Pompeii) ONLY Pyrrha and Jaune "fell"

Scene : Beach of the EverAfter

==> @watcher-servant - It's only one end to this version... shall we turn the clock back to the beach?

The spartan walked through the Ever after, she would keep her distance, but the voices would temp her try to get her to rage, but she didn't and each time she hesitated it almost feels like a new way is open to her. At the tree she comes face to face with the symbol of her actions, Rusted Jaune, who gives her a choice: Will go into the tree and accept judgement...or will you become lost?

She chooses to accept judgement...but this would be the last time she sees him. Jaune is part of the world now, he's the guardian of the Ever After now and once Pyrrha leaves it's time for him to guide others seeing more colored stars falling.

==> @arkosfan -  it's actually her END?? Or Is just the beggining?? Because you could trap her in a Time loop, where After each choice like THIS, Jaune Will kill her AND she Will revive her worst Nigthmares AND Mistakes until she Choose the rigth path

Choices & Consequences - PT 1

Pyrrha shrieked in agony and terror, sitting up from her bed of palm fronds, clutching at her chest, for a wound that was not there. She looked about herself in confusion. She was back on the beach. Awake and alive in her little shelter. Grabbing some of her collected wood, she banking her small campfire. She was shaking as she stared at the flames.

"What... happened?" she whispered to herself as vivid memories of being run through by Jaune, played in her mind.

"You failed." came the voice of Cinder. Pyrrha looked up startled and saw the wraith like image of her deceased lover hanging just outside the circle of light cast by the fire.

"Failed?"

"You were too weak. To easily subdued." Cinder's voice floated through the air to her ears. "Stronger. Get stronger."

"But what is happening? Can you tell me?" Pyrrha pleaded with the image of her dead lover. "What is going on here?"

"Get stronger." was all that Cinder said before fading away into the night.

"She lies." Pyrrha froze at the sound of that voice. It was one she hadn't heard for many years. "She lies."

Pyrrha turned her head towards the water, the gentle slosh of the surf underscoring the voice, that reached out from the darkness.

"Mom?"

"She lies, Pyrrha." the voice spoke once again. "That is all she is. Lies, upon lies."

"I..."

"Why did I die, Pyrrha?" the ghostly voice floated through the still night air. "Why? Did you strangle the life from me?"

Pyrrha gave no reply. She just fell to her side, curling her knees to her chest, while screwing her eyes shut, and covering her ears with her hands.

"She lies, and only lies."

The morning sun, found Pyrrha, exhausted. Deep bags under her blurry eyes. Cinder's voice had returned later that night mingling with her mother's. The constant whispered words, keep her at the edge of sleep. Climbing out of her little shelter, she gazed out over the expanse of beach.

A glint of something metal, made her blink, and try to focus. Fatigue still warped her vision, but eventually she was able to make it out. It was Milo, thrust blade first into the sand. She blinked some more, and slowly, cautiously approached. As vision grew clearer, and sharper she noticed that in front of her weapon the sand was marked.

"Evil taints you, body, mind and soul. You tread a path through the valley of the shadow of death. Continue to do so. Continue to suffer. Absolution, Forgiveness, are lost lest you seek your truth and the tree. Stray... and I will find you. I will always find you. The Rusted Knight."

Pyrrha had to read the words several times, for them to fully sink in, and when they did, she scuffed her feet through the sand to obscure them. Grabbing Milo she held it ready as she scanned her surroundings.

"I know you're out there! Show yourself... Jaune!" Pyrrha screeched as she turned her full attention to the forest edge. "Stop being a coward! Show yourself!"

"He has no need." came the voice of her mother standing in the gentle surf. "Heed his message. It will save you from her."

"Save me from who, bitch?" Pyrrha snarled, as she whipped about and faced the image of her mother.

"The liar. The deceiver. The one that lead you astray."

"Cinder loves me!" Pyrrha howled, "You tried to separate us! To drive us apart!"

"So I died at your hands, for the sin of trying to protect you?" her mother asked.

"No you tried to control and ruin my life!"

"I was protecting you, from her... but I was too late."

Pyrrha lost in her anger, tossed Milo to the sand, and charged into the surf. She grabbed for the thing that wore her mother's face, only for it to vanish. She fell forward ending up submerged in the rather deep section of water. Flailing about was able to reach the surface to gasp for a breath. Standing before her, was her mother, a sad smile on her face.

"Her stain upon you has seeped in deep." Her mother reached out with a single hand. "Where is your... Cinder... now?"

Pyrrha suddenly found herself submerged in the crystal clear waters, and inhumanly strong hand tangled in her mane of crimson hair.

--

Pyrrha rolled of her bed of leaves, gasping, choking, panting, and retching. The suffocating feeling of water filled her lungs making it hard for her catch her breath.

"Weak." Cinder's hostile voice assaulted her ears. "Pathetic."

"Cinder?"

"She lies. Lies are all she is. All she ever will be."

==> A/N - So I'll need to revisit this "prompt" a few times. I don't know how many I'll do, before she actually reaches the tree. Feel free to offer suggestions of choices/interactions she could pass or fail. <==

[befuddledcinnamonroll]

Episode 4! It's pouring rain outside, and I am curled up on the coach with the fireplace going. Let's do this.

Lol, not Pond just lurking and waiting for a moment to engage more with Sand.

You have no chill, my boy, and I love it.

Poor Pun, when you're trying to lead an event, and your dumbass friends keep coming over to loudly flirt with their crushes.

Lol, Arc is just so stupid when it comes to love, but I find it endearing anyway. (Please always use medical professionals when you have the chance).

Do we need to start a justice for JJ thing? I know he's usually a comic relief character, but someone should be loving on that man.

Don't feel bad Arm, we would all be similarly distracted in your shoes.

I am so happy Marc & Poon are already getting so much more screen time in this show.

Also, I may have cackled out loud at Sand yeeting his sandwich.

Oh god, Pond coming in with a steel chair to hit our emotions.

Ahhhhhh, you guys are killing me!!!

I'm starting to realize Poon is like a few of our other GMMTV boys, in that he has chemistry with literally everyone he shares a screen with.

Oh no, they broke Po!

He may be physically broken, but also the least dumb in seeing the faen writing on the wall. Poor Po.

Um, Arm, you can't hide 3 people behind a hedge that is a foot tall.

Ok, A-ngun is growing on me - she's not taking any of this personally, and is encouraging Arm to go for it. I'm so glad we're moving so far past the days of horrible women characters in BL.

We are taking a pause in programming to admire Force's eyelashes.

He's so damn pretty.

Ok, back to programming.

Ha, I love when Arm is bratting it up. Book makes such a good brat.

Aw, love that Po immediately clocked that a guy was in danger. I mean they're all kinda dumbasses to try and take on that many guys alone, but our babies are such good boys at heart.

Also glad they're not just shrugging off a bottle to the head, cuz that shit is dangerous.

Arc's red coming out, because our boy is feeling fired up with his baby being hurt. (I'm still so proud of myself when I notice colors).

Ok, sweet sentiment Arc, but can you stop patting him right where he got smashed with a bottle?

Bambi eyes alert!

Arc has gotta be doing some internal cartwheels over Arm being in his bed for the first time.

Oooh, I thought I had glimpsed color on Arc's knuckles in the bed scene, but wasn't sure... glad they came back to it.

Yep - our red boy got rage.

Oh yay, I was worried they would neglect having a Pond fussing over Sand moment. I have to keep reminding myself this is not We Are, and they are getting a full story here.

Finally, some directness!

Beach episode for #5 already? Interesting...

[giuliettagaltieri]

Road Rage & Malibu Barbie

Pairing: Street Racer!Eren x Reader

Synopsis: You may look like a Barbie doll who got lost on her way back to her dreamhouse but Eren never fails to break your front quite often than you like

Warning: alcohol use, illegal street racing, language

Word Count: 2292

He is just so full of shit, isn’t he?

Eren Fucking Jaeger.  He thinks just because he won every race he’s been in, he’s the fucking king of every fucking thing.

Your teeth gnashed, crushing the cola lollipop to tiny pieces until the stick flattened between your molars.

Cheers deafen your ears, even rising above the already booming drop of the music played by the DJ.  The crowd, all dressed in neon and various shades of black, one with a tacky cheetah print, gathers to Eren’s dodge challenger.  Oh, how you’d love to scratch the beautiful matte black paint or smash the glowing crimson lights.

On the other hand, your eyes dart to your batchmates, Porco and Reiner in their Camaro and Corvette.  You think Porco’s is smoking a little.  The two of them decided it was a good idea to challenge Eren.

Your brows meet as you click your tongue in annoyance.  They’ve given Paradis University a free pass to drag Marley Institute of Higher Learning’s name through the mud.

A loud honk got your attention, it’s the resident idiots of Paradis U, Conner and Sarah, you think their name was.  They got barrels of alcohol on their pick-up truck.  And just as quickly as the crowd gathered to Eren after his victory, they now crowded the truck for the cheap booze.

“Hey.” 

You smile as you feel Annie hop on the stacked tires next to you.

“Hay back.”  You say lazily as you take a sip on your Malibu fizzy pink lemonade, leaving a print of glossy and glittery lip mark on the can.

Annie takes a swig on something stronger and her eyes scan you.  Your stooped posture and your pink wedges creating swirls on the gravel, even your oversized sunglasses is slipping from your hair.

“Problem?”  Annie asks with a sigh.

Your hair flips in the force of you straightening your back just to face her.  Her hand is already waiting to catch your sunglasses that flew right off.

“Did you see his face?”

“Whose face?”  Annie asks calmly.

“Jaeger.”  You say as if the name is leaving a bad taste in your mouth.

Annie glances behind you then nods once.  “What about him?”

“Did you see the way he looked down on us?  He is simply unbelievable.”

Annie hums and you wait for her to continue.

The crowd is going crazy for the discount beer that Paradis U brought.

There was also the revving of engines from a distance.

And loud chattering.

“That’s it? ‘Hmm’?”  You ask impatiently, putting your fists on your hips as an added effect.

Annie just shrugs.  “I don’t know if he was like ‘looking down’ on us.”  She rolls her eyes.  “That’s just how he looks at everybody.”

You scrunch your nose cutely.  “As if!  He was totally feeling all high and mighty after that win.”  You stomp your chunky heel, sending a few pebbles away, you wished it was sand from the beach instead.  Pieck did invite you to that bonfire party their sorority is hosting.  “I bet I could take him on.”  You collapse on your palm, elbow resting on your knee as you trace the tiny flower patterns on your pink babydoll dress.

“Wanna bet on it?”  Says a deep voice right next to your ear, making your hair stand on end.

You leap off the stacked tires in surprise, your drink spilling on your hand.

There in all his glory, stood Eren Jaeger.

You glare up at him, refusing to look at his compression shirt clad chest and dark washed jeans because by God, you know he will never let you forget about it if you do. 

He’s been trying to get you to talk to him since the first night you met and to your luck, Reiner and Porco are not with you at the moment as the two of them were your usual anti-Eren protection squad.

“Annie, let’s go grab something to eat?”  You turn to Annie sharply with a stiff smile.

Annie yawns and raises a hand as a nonverbal ‘pass’ and she just leaves you there.  With him.

“Annie?”  You call desperately.

“It’s time you fix your issues.”

You glance at Eren who looks at you like you’re some sort of an odd entertainment.

“We don’t have issues!”  You hiss.

Annie turns to you both and walks backwards.  “Tension, then.”

Your face erupts to a blush and your mouth fails to form words.

She watches your face bubble up in anger and gives you a two fingered salute before sliding next to Armin who was trying to get his homework done in a corner.

“So.”  Eren stretches the word and you close your eyes tightly, dreading the fact that you will have to hold a conversation with him like how any regular adult should.

“Good racing out there.”  You say with a smile that doesn’t reach your eyes.

The corner of his lip rises.  “You can cut the act now, doll.”

Again, you just flash him another polite smile.  “Well, if that’s all.  I’ll be taking my leave.”

You walk in the direction of your 1959 pink Cadillac when you hear the unmistakable sound of sirens.  You don’t even process what happened next, you simply felt an arm lock around your midriff and your feet getting lifted off the ground.

“Fuck, stop STOP!”  Eren growls as you start punching him, yelling for him to put you down but he does not.

You turn to see Floch being pinned to the ground and then Annie leaving with Armin in his BMW i8.

“Jaeger!  I swear-”

“There you go!”  He unceremoniously dumps you in your convertible.

You make brief eye contact before a sound of a glass bottle shattering startles you.

“Shit!”  Eren hops to his hellcat that he not so discreetly chose to park next to your car.

You jab and twist the key in and the engine roars to life.  Your hands shake at the thought of having your parents come and bail you from jail.  And your reputation!

“Hey.”  Eren calls from the open window of his car.  “I know how to get out of here, you can come if you want but you gotta be a good girl and stick close to me, yeah?”

A cold drop of sweat drips on your temple and you hesitate for a moment but you give him a nod.

You raise your convertible’s top for a bit of covering.  You’d hate to have a picture of you end up in the news tomorrow morning, at least the plate number is a bit concealable.

“You ready, doll?”  He calls and his engine roars.  You clutch your steering wheel tight and you give him a nod.  His eyes linger on your seatbelt and after he’s sure that you got it fastened, he zooms forward.  You follow after him.  You keep a close eye on his car, careful not to bump into him.

Eren takes a sharp turn and you almost hit the break upon seeing a narrow alleyway, one wrong move and you could get stuck.  As Eren braves the escape route, you follow with much hesitation, that was until a flash of red and blue fills your car.  You gasp, hoping they won’t pursue you.

Soon enough, Eren makes it out and you see him stop a few meters away, waiting for you.

And you eventually make it out too.  Without any scratches.  Your driving instructor would be proud.

“That’s my girl!”  Eren cheers and he drives away, you follow quickly, a smile now making its way to your lips despite how your heart is pounding so hard in your chest.

You step hard on the accelerator until you are driving side by side.

You open your window and your hair whips with the wind, Eren does the same and gives you a boyish grin that you are certain was responsible for countless of panties to drop.

The thought made you feel a bit bitter and your smile deflated the tiniest bit.  Though you can’t understand why.  When the traffic light comes to sight, you slow down, despite the entire highway being empty due to it being four in the morning.

“You alright, doll?”  Eren asks in a tone you never knew he was capable of, with his brows pinched.

Again, you give him one of your practiced smiles and you nod.  Your eyes return to the road and the bright red light reflects on your eyes.

Eren doesn’t buy it, not even for a second.

“Tell you what.”  He says.  You glance at him and he points at the traffic light.  “I’ll take your challenge.”

Your eyes round in both confusion and surprise.

“When it turns green, we race to the next traffic light.”  He continues.  “Winner gets free ice cream.”

You just stare at him for what felt like a solid hour, as if waiting for him to break his act and tell you that he is just kidding, but he does not and he almost has a look of determination plastered to his eyes.

“Get ready to eat my dust.”  You smirk playfully.

Eren is unbeatable but you sure as hell are not going to back down from a challenge.

The leather of your steering wheel creaks softly under your grip and you watch the traffic light like a bird of prey.

Your cheeks bubble in anticipation when the light turns to yellow.

Eren revs his engine and you exhale softly, eyes now zeroed in the road, the traffic light becoming not dissimilar to a bell being dangled in front of a crouching cat, ready to pounce any second.

3

2

1

GO!

Both engines roar as Eren and you go neck and neck and you can’t even bother to glance at his direction when he whoops.

And then you hear the sudden combustion from his car.

“Gotta go, doll.”  He yells and his car speeds forward as if it was flying.  The quick blue flash from his exhaust told you that the asshole just used nitro.

You scream in frustration, quickly shifting the gear and you step on the pedal so hard that your back collides with your plushy seats.

Eren serpentines in front of you, preventing you from getting ahead.  You call him by a rather unkind name, to which he only laughs.

You try right and he is there, you try on the left and he’s there again.  Your fist slammed on your steering wheel.  You try left again and he’s already waiting for you, of course it’s obvious for you to turn right while he’s still trying to recover, but you don’t.  He, however, thought you were going to do it and he drives right hard, making you grin as he leaves you an opening.

Then there’s the really tall flyover and beyond that, the traffic light.

Only, Eren wasn’t a champion for nothing, was he?

He sparked that nitro again, complete cheating in your opinion, and he gets even.

“Coward!”  You scream at him and he laughs once more.

“A coward with a free ice cream, apparently.”  Was the last thing he said before zooming forward.

You curse him off as he slowly ascends.

Eren watches you from his rearview mirror and he shuts off his nitro, waiting for you to catch up to him.  But to his surprise, you drifted to the side, vanishing from view, almost knocking down a few traffic cones. 

His brows scrunch up.

Where could you be-

Were you planning to counterflow and cut through the road?

You little sneak.

Eren grins as the familiar fire of competition fuels his veins.  He shifted his gear stick and he stepped on it.  His engine roars and he slowly reaches the top, going now for the descent but he hits the break, making his tires screech.  The sun was slowly trying to break through the clouds now.  A wide smile is on his lips when he sees the familiar glint of your pink Cadillac and he steps on the accelerator.

His engine sounded like a monster chasing you, making you frantically speed up.  He’s coming.  He’s right behind you.  He’s…He’s…He’s lost the race!

You were a meter ahead of him!

The scream of victory you gave disappeared behind the roar of your engine.

You haphazardly got out of your car and was glad to see that Eren was too.

His movements were sluggish but there was a small smile on his lips.  You were really hoping he’d be more disappointed.

You grin at him, twisting and bouncing at where you stand.

He watches you with that same stupid smile and nods.  “Congratulations.  We didn’t have an audience but you can have the bragging rights.”

But his eyebrow cocks up in amusement when you giggle.  “Silly, I don’t want any bragging rights.  I just want an ice cream from that 24/7 café a few blocks away.”

Now, he just looks confused.  “Wait, really?”

You walk back to your car.  “Uhuh!  Plus, I totally saw you stalling there.”  You smile at him behind your shoulder.  “You lost on purpose.”

His cheeks flushed the tiniest bit but his lazy eyes scan you up and down.  “And you’re still making me buy you ice cream?”

You get inside your car and slam the door shut.  You drape an arm by the window and you shrug.  “A win’s a win, right?”

He considers for a moment, trying to see how far he could take this, and in a split second, he decides.

“Race you there.”  He grins and hops in his car.  “Loser gives the winner a kiss.”

He laughs as he drives away, leaving you struggling to chase after him.

“Unfuckingfair!”

He’s winning this one for sure, no matter what.

[wordy-little-witch]

Buggy: the surprising bombshell the Addams pine over.

Mihawk: The Long suffering uncle who needs to have a serious talk with his sister over flirting with his cru- HIS ASSOCIATE in front of him.

This leaves Crocodile and I will offer this possibility: Uncle that married into the family (even tough he and Mihawk aren’t even married… but when you’re an Addams you know when something’s up) and is suprisingly beloved by the kids. He just seems like the type who’d be only minorly irritated by those… frankly insane children, but soon sees them as the few kids he can actually stand. He comes over and both Pugsley and Wednesday are just immediately drawn to him.

Bonding time with Uncle Crocodile include: playing Houdini and wrapping Pugsley up in chains before putting him in a watertank that slowly fills up with Crocodiles sand like some fucked up saw trap (Should be added Pugsley is ecstatic about this because weird little freak,masochistic Pugsley has always been my favorite interpretation of him)

Live feeding the Wani with Wednesday. Morticia is so touched that her little girl is doing so much for endangered species…. Mainly keeping them endangered but the way she takes to the alligators is cute as well. There is probably a commotion though when Crocodile decides to gift her a fully grown one for her birthday. Not because of the dangerous animal but because Morticia and Gomez are both worried if their little bat can handle the responsibility and an animal is not just for one day after all.

Just… “Uncle Crocodile” as that “When your double income, no kids, lesbian aunts come over and unleash the gift happening on Christmas.” Meme, except he’s another gay uncle and the kids are … peculiar to say the least.

Yes yes yes this this this AAAAAAA ♡♡♡♡♡

Okay but Uncle Crocodile being the one to unabashedly spoil the children, Mihawk being Morticia's brother, all of it is simply!!!! CHEF KISS!!!!!

Also Croc gifting Wednesday a fully grown wani is. Yes. Just yes.

Especially if you go full "of course I did not specifically breed one to be appropriate for my niece what do you me for-" Crocodile who did in fact carefully cultivate and breed certain wanis to get a specific result. Crocodile who absolutely began the process out of curiosity and then later on pushed it a little further because no niece of his would have anything less than the utmost best. Crocodile who refuses to acknowledge the facts because damn it all he has a reputation-

Bonus points, Buggy the Bombshell charming the hearts of everyone in the family. Pugsley has a bomb buddy. Wednesday has a fellow chemist. Gomez enjoys a change from strict swordplay. Tish enjoys the gardening and tinctures they both indulge in. Grandmama is by no means doubting this boy, and she is delighted that Buggy knows so much of the Old Ways of sailing, stories and the lesser known spiritual aspects. Fester just thinks he's neat.

Mihawk is SUFFERING and Crocodile is... well he's Something alright.

Depending on how this goes could impact end results. Either cross guild poly, where Mihawk and Croc finally blow a fuse over the flirtations, to which Morticia and Gomez both offer smiles like "see, we knew he would make a marvelous edition! And look, dearest, you've even embraced your rage. How delectable."

OR CrocHawk and Buggy being romanced by Hawky's sister and brother in law. Nobody knows what's going on beyond Tish, who is blatantly admiring the lipstick the clown has and seems intent on wearing it herself in some manner, and Gomez who is simply VIBRATING because he loves his wife and now he and his wife love this clown, how charming! How beautiful!! How Delightfully Odd!!!

((Bonus points, at one point, Wednesday and Pugsley decide they are sick of their parents' oblivious pining and the clown's unbelievably obtuse awareness. There is an Incident during their play time. Buggy's clothing is ruined. Wednesday offers to go find some replacements.

It just so happens that Buggy is a fair bit taller than Gomez, making his clothing far from workable, but a bit smaller than Morticia. He is, however, slightly chubby, so the closest to a workable size would be one of Tish's dresses. Buggy isn't fazed at all, even mentions that he even owns a few in similar cuts. They send him off to change.

Gomez nearly drops his coffee when the blue haired Emperor glides in, hair piled into a messy bun after his quick shower. Tish for her part pauses with her lip leaving a dark smudge on her own cup, dark eyes laser focused. The dress they'd given him was a bit more conservative in neckline than her more recent fare, a square neckline and flowing long sleeves in a charcoal mesh, web like stitching that drifted in lackadaisical waves to his wrists. The bodice was not boned, but it had careful paneling which embellished the dip of a waist, the curve of a hip. The hem drifted to the floor with a silvery belt hugging his hips with a metallic spider charm glinting sharply from its delicate chain.

He looked phenomenal.

Nobody noticed when Wednesday and Pugsley casually high fived one another from the doorway.

((And later on, in the dead of night, Wednesday's eyes shoot open in alarm as she realizes that she may well have inherited her parents' apparent taste in brightly colored, jovial partners who were more dangerous than the world believed. Mind drifting to a certain werewolf, she rolled over in her bed to bury her face in her pillow. Suffocation seemed an apt response to this realization.))

[viperwhispered]

So I was listening to "Being low as dirt taking what's important from me" by Tuyu and it got me thinking: we got enough angst between Jamil and Kalim, give me angst between Jamil and his parents.

We know that Jamil sincerely cares for his family since they're the reason he puts up with everything but I get the impression that he only has a real genuine relationship with Najma. I feel like his parents only have a very superficial of who their son it and that is some good angst just in itself.

So I kinda just wanna see Jamil snap at them. Think of this scenario: Jamil has an s/o back at NRC. They've kept quiet cause he doesn't want his parents harassing about "how could he be distracted when he should be serving Kalim". This is post-OB, meaning Kalim has come a long way in finding other coping mechanisms, actively working on being observant, and in being more independant. Anyway, Jamil heads home for vacation and io and behold his parents are trying to put him in an arranged marriage with a girl from another servant family.

Cue Jamil going quiet as they joyfully explain who he's gonna marry. Then he just fucking explodes.

Completely loses whatever's left of his filter as he rages on them about everything. His hatred for their situation, the servanthood, and his lack of freedom. He especially rubs in how they clearly care more about the Asims than their own children and how they're the reason he overblotted. He lets out that he already has a lover because "unlike you prostating pathetic worms I have a life outside of Kalim".

Mom/dad try to slap him to make him stop but he just grabs the hand and slaps them back HARD. Finally, he finishes off with "you digusting beings low as dirt, how dare you try to take whats important from me?!"

At this point his composure is gone. He is enraged, he is full on sobbing as he yells.

His parents? They have no possible response that could ever satisfy him. They can't even mutter some sort of comeback.

Najma? She was on her way to greet him when she overheard him lose it. She's shocked and hurt at hearing Jamil's words but not really surprised nor does she blame him.

Jamil? He just takes his bags and goes right back to NRC to spend the break with his s/o. He turns off his phone and refuses all forms of communication throughout the entire break. The only people he picks up for is Kalim and Najma after about two weeks.

Kalim? At this point, he is fully aware of how unfair Jamil's situation is and is pissed that the Vipers are trying to ruin Jamil's relationship after months of Kalim (trying) being the best wingman possible. He also scolds the Vipers cause "he's already giving away his future, how dare you ask for more?!" He angrily orders that Jamil is to be left alone and they'll talk after the break.

Bonus angst: the supposed fiance was the daughter of another major servant family who had been in love with Jamil since they were children. And by that I mean she loved his servant persona and has no idea how much of a hot smug asshole he is. She was waiting in the next room to surprise him after his parents explained the new arrangement. There she was smiles and giggles at marrying what she thinks is the man of her dreams before that dream is shattered when she hears Jamil's tirade. Her heart shatters into a million pieces as she learns that not only does he hate the future set for them but he also already has a beloved.

Yeah we get so little info about Jamil’s parents that it’s hard to tell just what they are like or how their relationship is with Jamil. I mean, for the Scalding Sands event, all the adults were pretty absent (perhaps conspicuously, perhaps they only decided to start adding in the parents in the following hometown events, who knows).

That absence of Jamil's parents in the story other than as authority figures may be telling on its own, but it’s not like some of the other students are super chatty about their families either. And Jamil’s private enough, anyway, considering he didn’t mention Najma, either. Since I do agree that he and Najma definitely do care about that each other, in that particular sibling way with its own hiccups.

I certainly would not be surprised (and may have said this somewhere) if Jamil’s parents are of the sort that they are doing what they think is good for their son / children, but they don’t actually stop and think about the child’s point of view or opinion. (This may also be because my husband had an upbringing like that so it sure resonates and checks out.)

Oof that sort of a confrontation with his parents, though. For some reason I do feel like Jamil would not generally seriously stand up to his parents - at least not until something like that, when the straw breaks the camel’s back (again). Though I could be just assuming here. Though he certainly has been going along enough (and also has been told to do so since very young) to keep to his position with Kalim.

Tho honestly, his parents definitely deserve some choice words for their choices. Maybe, from their point of view, they’re ensuring a materially comfortable and in some ways perhaps even influential future for their child. But they sure aren’t ensuring Jamil’s happiness or mental or emotional wellbeing.

Oh boy would that be a tumultuous situation, though. Like in some sense, I’d imagine it would be cathartic for Jamil, to let that all out.

Yet, it would also be so disappointing. Yet another crushed hope for his parents to do better, yet another sign of how they treat him. It would be rough, especially trying to reconcile his parents' actions with any affection that Jamil may think they still do feel for him (and that Jamil feels for them). Sure ain’t easy.

I do love Kalim being on Jamil’s side in this, though. I mean, I do think in general that is likely, no matter where we are in the timeline. But especially here, if Kalim can tell that Jamil’s genuinely upset, and Kalim has a better understanding of what’s going on and how things have been affecting Jamil.

Though Kalim is not much of the sort to lash out, imo. So instead of scolding the Vipers, I’d think it’d be more likely for him to focus on trying to cheer up Jamil, or to try to mend the rift. Like more carrot than stick, you know?

Whether Jamil would be in the headspace to appreciate that kind of approach is another thing altogether.

And oof to that bonus angst. Might be better for all parties involved, in the end, but certainly not a pleasant way to learn about it.

[pandamorphic]

Beneath the salty waves, a young dragon cried.

She swam, fighting currents and undertows she didn’t yet know, her tears indistinguishable from the home she fled. Fear and sadness and uncertainty dragged her drowning mind ahead until finally she crashed to the surface and coughed away the waves that filled her mouth. She blinked at the sky and seethed with indignation.

It wasn’t fair. The placid ocean gently released her to the beach as little stars twinkled in the clear blue expanse. Why weren’t they angry, full of righteous vengeance on her behalf? Why didn’t the waters rage and churn and spew into black clouds pounding with lightning? As she collapsed into the soft sands, she tried slowing her merciless heart.

“Oh, my dear, sweet Siren. Why do you run from me?”

She froze. She frantically searched the ripples for the telltale glow of scales. But there was nothing.

Why couldn’t she just get away from him? From them all? Even when she managed to leave, he still whispered in her ear, taunting her. She backed away from the water, sand sucking her talons as if they wanted her to stay. The light fractured around her as something blocked the moons. Clouds were gathering quickly, coming from the mainland and clawing towards her. She ran with a strangled wail—

—straight into something solid. She collapsed, the forest that edged the beach spinning around her. She looked up to find a looming figure haloed by moonlight. It had a strangely alluring presence wreathed in the scent of… was it dried coral? Or saltwater taffy? She realized she couldn’t pin down the smell but she knew it as soft and beguiling, like the rare days her parents let her play around the Wobbegong Carpets with the servants’ dragonets.

The world began to settle into its rightful place, and as it did, she realized the figure was a dragon. A huge NightWing, in fact. What was a NightWing doing around the SeaWing kingdom? she wondered.

“Oh, hello there, little one,” the dragon rumbled.

(Cut for insta)

Her eyes stretched wide as she tried hiding her fear.

“That’s it, sweet Siren. Never let them see your true feelings. Chin up and smile. You belong to the palace. To me.”

A sob escaped before she could catch it. Then, like a dam bursting, the onslaught of tears came.

“Ah, shhh,” the NightWing soothed, immediately wrapping herself around the dragonet. “What troubles you, dear?”

The dragon was warm. Not at all like the deep waters she hatched in, or the stiff royals who planned her every move. There was something tender and motherly in the way she caressed the webbing along her back. It was a feeling she never knew herself.

“My— they—“

She couldn’t stop hiccuping and could taste the familiar sharpness that would follow whenever she stuttered or flinched in front of her parents. However, no slap came, and instead the strangers pale eyes held concern rather than anger. So she swallowed and tried again.

“My… my parents. They were upset, and… they hurt me.”

The dragon tutted quietly. “When parents harm their own children… Is there no greater injustice?”

She buried her head in the stranger’s side and whimpered.

“Child, what if I told you I could help?”

She looked up slowly, confused.

“If there was anything, anything you wanted in the whole world, what would it be?”

She paused. What did she want? She was sick of being told what to do, what to say, how to properly act among which dragons. She hated that her parents treated her few friends poorly just because they were servants and commoners. No one listened to her. And she wanted him gone.

“To tell others what to do.”

“A simple enough wish. I can make that happen, little one. I just need something from you…”

———

WHEW this took me a while 😭 first real attempt at a lil comic thing!! Also more oc lore YEAH!! This is the origin of Siren’s power (and how her eyes changed as a result) and another connection with Lady Sybil 👀

[bluemidnightmelody]

Little do you know - Finnick Odair

Pairing: Finnick x Fem OC

word count: 5,9k

Summary: She is a career tribute in training, but Finnick doesn't want her to participate in this death match. Even though he was the one who trained her, or just because of that, he couldn't bear to lose her like that.

warnings: mentions of death, mentions of forced prostitution

also posted on ao3 and wattpad

The sea is restless and agitated, as if sensing his feelings and showing him his innermost self, like a mirror.

Finnick can't tell how long he's been sitting on the sand, looking out at the roaring sea, but it doesn't matter. For him, time has little meaning, but for someone else, every second will soon be precious.

The reaping will be held in two weeks and the 71st Hunger Games are just around the corner. It has been a full six years since his own name was called out in front of the entire district.

At this time of year he is always tense, it's only understandable, but this time it's different. Something has changed this year.

"Why are you pulling a face like that? You're going to get wrinkles on your forehead if you keep this up," comes Kaya's familiar soft voice from right behind him. Despite his ongoing paranoia since his games, he hasn't noticed her sneaking up on him.

She seems to be in a playing mood, but Finnick can't bring himself to smile. He stands up to face her, and at the sight of his serious expression, she looks at him questioningly.

"We need to talk," he announces tersely.

Kaya crosses her arms in front of her chest, visibly irritated by his cold demeanor. "Yeah, you mentioned that when you asked for this meeting, but you look like someone is dead. That worries me a little," she replies.

Finnick sighs and shakes his head. It's macabre that it doesn't even seem to occur to her that it's her life he's concerned about. He takes a deep breath, catches her gaze with his, and says in a prompting tone, "I want you to lose next week, you hear me?"

Kaya's expression is stunned, a mixture of shock, disbelief and annoyance. She snorts in irritation and counters loudly, "Are you serious? I have been training my whole life for literally nothing but this and you have the nerve to ask me to lose on purpose at the selection tournament? Have you gone completely insane?" She talks herself more and more into a rage until she's almost yelling at him.

Finnick squints his eyes and runs his hands through his bronze blond hair. "I know all this, but you don't understand. I'm just trying to help you," he tries to reassure her, but with little success.

Kaya throws her arms to the side in a dramatic gesture and laughs a little sarcastically. "Help me? You were supposed to help me win, remember? We've done nothing but prepare me to win for the past year. I'm among the best in every discipline and absolutely everyone has high expectations of me. Not only do you want me to let down the teachers and coaches who have invested so much time and effort in me, but you want me to let down my entire family who is hoping and counting on me to bring honor to them and the rest of District 4," she complains in agitation.

Finnick frowns and counters," Have you listened to yourself? I know that many people in 4 glorify the games simply because we get preferential treatment from the Capitol as well by winning the games. But you are smarter than them. We both know that all of this was never your desire. You're just doing it to please your parents, who seem to be so desperate for recognition."

Outwardly, she seems unimpressed, but Finnick can see in her eyes that he's hit the mark.

"Don't talk about things you don't understand," she counters. "I thought you were on my side, I thought you had faith in me. If you think I'm too weak to pull this off, then you're underestimating me."

"You're the one who doesn't understand anything," he replies loudly. "You, the people at the academy, your family, as well as all the rest of District 4 don't know anything about the games."

With a firm grip, he places his hands on her shoulders and looks deep into her eyes. "If you think I'm asking this because I don't think you could win, you're wrong. But look at me. Even if you manage to get out of the arena alive, do you really want to end up like me? You're about to throw your whole life away and I know that for sure because I stopped having one a long time ago. There's so much more for you without the games. Kaya, please."

Her conflicting emotions are clear on her face now. Inside her, a battle is brewing between the part of her that wants to please everyone and not disappoint the expectations placed on her, and the other part that has wanted nothing more than to break free for years.

She can see the desperation in Finnick's beautiful sea green eyes. She has always been able to see that seemingly alone among many blind people, so she knows he is telling the truth.

Kaya lowers her head to escape his intense gaze, because she can never withstand it for long. "I can't just decide something like that. I'll think about it," she whispers, taking a cautious step backward.

His hands release her shoulders and he gives her one last pleading look as she hesitantly turns and leaves, no doubt back to the academy.

At home, he sits motionless again, this time staring at the painting in his living room.

On the big canvas, a gigantic old sailing ship maneuvers through stormy waters. The waves are rearing up high, powerful and threatening. The wind tears at the numerous white sails and he can almost hear the creaking of the masts that have to withstand these forces.

In the distance, an opening gapes in the blanket of dark clouds, and rays of sunlight fall brightly on the troubled water. Like the light of a lighthouse, it seems to pull the ship toward it, in the hopes of escape from the angry sea.

The longer he looks at it, the more it seems like the picture is actually moving. It was a gift from Kaya after he accidentally discovered her talent.

It wasn't that long ago, but it feels like an eternity. All this happened only because, against his beliefs, he decided to take an academy student under his wing, as many other victors from 4 do year after year.

At first, he wanted nothing to do with any of this. He rarely went to the academy unless he was ordered to by his coordination team for more video footage or the like. He never intended to actively participate in preparing children for their almost certain death.

Most of the potential tributes he disliked from the start anyway. Arrogant and smug creatures who glorified killing for the amusement of the Capitol and lost all respect for life. But she was different.

The first time he really noticed her was on a deserted beach, like today. He hadn't expected to run into anyone, but there she was suddenly, kneeling in the sand, her dark blond hair disheveled, her hands full of shells, staring unflinchingly at him with her gray eyes.

It was as if she could freeze time with her gaze, so they eyed each other without a word or even so much as one twitch of a muscle. Her face was completely unreadable, like a stone mask hiding any hint of emotion.

Without a single word or any other reaction, she turned and walked away from him, further along the beach, as if he were invisible.

As a result, he also noticed her the next time he was at the academy. While the others vied for his attention, she kept to herself. She was always quiet and seemed as if her mind was somewhere else.

The more he watched her, the more he wished he could see the world she wandered in. This world where apparently no one exists but her. Perhaps he would be able to find the same peace there that was inherent in her, if only he could enter that place.

She was 17 years old at the time, and had her last year at the academy ahead of her before things would get serious. When she was first told that no one other than Finnick Odair would personally take care of her training until then, she was visibly surprised and confused.

She didn't seem to trust him very much, and his usual charm, with which he had also wrapped the Capitol around his finger, didn't seem to do anything with her. She followed all his instructions and did everything he told her to do without objecting, but no more.

Her persistent reticence and reservedness drove him ever more strongly to want to unravel her. She was like a treasure chest that promised him the most beautiful riches, if only he had the key to unlock it.

And at some point, as time went on, he succeeded in opening it. At first they just happened to run into each other outside of training, then at some point chance encounters turned into planned meet-ups.

It was as if two kindred souls had found each other. Kaya was just as lonely as he was, and being lonely together is better than being lonely alone. He was drawn to her like the ship in the painting to the end of the storm.

At some point he began to pay her occasional visits at her quarters at the academy. Actually, he wasn't even allowed to be there, but he has become better than anyone at getting people to let him have his way with sweet words.

Once he caught her by surprise just overpainting a beautiful picture of the beach with white paint.  His admiration for her talent, hitherto unknown to him, was only overshadowed by his horror at witnessing this act of destruction.

When he asked her about it, she only answered naturally that she can't afford dozens of canvases and therefore paints one picture over the other. She said this without any regret, as if it would not bother her in the least to destroy her artworks, which she had created with so much effort, just like that.

He did mind, and the next time he returned from the Capitol, he would bring her not only canvases of all sizes, but also tools and paints that she had previously mixed herself from crushed shells and other natural products.

At first she strictly refused to accept such an expensive gift, even after his repeated assurances that he really has more money than he could ever need.

As a compromise, he suggested that she then use the things to paint a picture for him. Then it would not be a gift, so to speak, but they would benefit in equal parts.

After a short back and forth, she finally accepted these conditions, and the result has decorated Finnick's house ever since. Since then, a few more paintings have been added, but this one means the most to him. He can't say if it was intentional, but he often feels as if he were also on board of this ship, caught in an eternal raging storm.

____________________

A week has flown by and Finnick finds himself lined up with the rest of the victors and instructors at the academy.

He notices his fingernails digging into his skin because of his clenched fists, but he can't relax. It is the day of decision, today will determine which students will be allowed to volunteer as tributes.

There is always more than one applicant, and all of them are equally eager for the opportunity to gain glory and prestige in the Capitol, for themselves and their district, by winning the Hunger Games. None of them even suspects what they are actually getting themselves into.

A week before the reaping, the students compete against each other for the privilege of enlisting as tributes, first the boys, then the girls. For those who are already 18 years old, like Kaya, this event is compulsory, but the younger ones are allowed to participate, even if the older ones usually have clearly the better chances.

The future male tribute has already been decided, a tall broad-built boy, who overpowered his competitors mainly with his strength.

For the girls, the decision is getting closer. Out of 6 possible candidates, only two are left, and Kaya is one of them.

The girl she faces is taller than her, with raven black hair and emerald green eyes. Finnick recognizes her, mainly because of her standout brutality in training, even to her classmates.

He secretly hopes that if he couldn't convince Kaya with his words, maybe her opponent will make sure she is spared, even if it means making the other girl a victim. Kaya is his protégé and he should not wish for that, but he hopes from the bottom of his heart that she loses.

Unfortunately, it was he himself who trained Kaya for the past year. He did it with the goal of enabling her to stay alive on her own, should the worst case scenario occur with her actually ending up in the arena. He taught her everything he knows, and by now she is good, downright outstanding. She was talented before, too, but through him she has learned to use her abilities to the full.

None of her opponent's wild attacks really succeed, and while Kaya keeps blocking and gracefully dodging them, her opponent loses more and more patience. Kaya skillfully uses a careless moment to disarm her opponent and puts her out of action with a grip from behind.

Finnick freezes to ice as he watches the scene, where the worst possible outcome is about to unfold. Just a moment longer and the fight would be over.

For a split second, her eyes meet his and Finnick, for the first time in a long time, has to suppress the tears that threaten to gather in his eyes.

He can't tell if it is his undoubtedly pitiful sight that make her change her mind at the last second, or if she had made that decision before. Before the fight can be declared over, Kaya lets go of her opponent, who elbows her in the side as she struggles desperately.

It wasn't a blow hard enough to actually force her to let up. Her opponent recovers quickly and it seems like she turned the situation around before Kaya could do anything.

If you look closer, you would see that she isn't even trying at all. She lets the black-haired girl pull her to the ground, where she presses the knife to her neck, which Kaya knocked out of her hand earlier.

The fight is over, the winner cheers along with her male partner as if they hadn't just won a trip straight to hell, and at least one of them without a return ticket.

Kaya remains motionless on her back for a few more seconds before slowly standing up and wiping the imaginary dust off her clothes. Her expression is completely neutral, as it often is, and she shares a long intense look with Finnick before turning and disappearing into the locker rooms.

He feels his petrification loosen and his muscles, which had been almost painfully tense all this time, slowly relax again. He draws in a deep breath and it's as if it's the first one after he almost drowned.

The happy winners and the dejected losers end the day with a celebration at the academy, because after all, it's also the end of the training period for all those who have already turned 18 and will therefore not get another chance to participate in the games. Despite his relief, Finnick doesn't really feel like celebrating; after all, the games are still coming up.

He retreats to the deserted hallways of the building and, after wandering aimlessly for a while, slumps against a wall somewhere. He leans his head back and closes his eyes as he listens to the silence. Soft music and laughter can be heard from the foyer below him.

"You actually have wrinkles on your forehead, that's bound to make headlines at the Capitol."

Finnick startles and finds himself facing Kaya, who is eyeing him with the smallest of grins. Again, he didn't hear her coming.

"Are you surprised? Sneaking up on me like that is starting to become a really annoying habit. One of these days I'm going to die of a heart attack," he replies with a sigh.

Kaya copies his stance leaning against the wall on the opposite side of the hallway and casually crosses her arms in front of her chest. "You sound like an old man."

"I feel like I've aged 20 years today, too. If I'm actually getting wrinkly, I'm sure it's thanks to you," he murmurs.

She drops her gaze to the floor and surveys the pattern on the old tiles. "Is this how you wanted it to be now?" she asks softly.

"You're safe, that's all that matters," he replies with a confident voice.

The look she gives him is hard to interpret, but he recognizes something gentle in it that warms his heart. This has been happening to him more and more lately, and he observes this change in himself with both concern and pleasure, the origin of which is a mystery to him.

"Sandy could still back out, or my name could be pulled," Kaya says in a composed voice. It has always been tradition at the academy that if a student's name is pulled, they are entitled to the spot as tribute, even if someone else has been chosen for it.

"That's not going to happen," Finnick replies with conviction. "And even if Sandy changes her mind, they can't make you volunteer in her place. We'll get through the reaping and then it'll be over once and for all," he explains hopefully.

"We?" asks Kaya urgently.

"Of course," Finnick counters, "We're a team, aren't we? I promised you I would do everything I could to keep you alive, and I meant what I said, even though our ideas about it probably weren't the same originally."

"What will happen when the reaping is over?" asks Kaya tentatively, looking at him with wide expectant eyes.

Finnick sighs and replies, "I was chosen to be a mentor this year. I'm going to have to focus on that for now. I don't know how long I'll be gone, but when I get back, my time will be yours alone, I promise. Then we can talk about everything else."

Kaya chews the inside of her cheek. "So there will still be a we?"

Finnick looks at her for a moment, then breaks away from the wall. He crosses the distance between them in two big steps and pulls her into his arms.

"Always."

It's not the first embrace they've shared, but this time is different. Without a hint of resistance, she nestles against his chest and buries her face in his shoulder. She wraps her arms around his torso and Finnick can feel the warmth of her hands where they rest gently beneath his shoulder blades.

Now, finally, he has managed to spend a small moment with her in this other world she lives in, and he feels an all-encompassing peacefulness like never before. There is no one else but the two of them, and nothing else matters.

One of his hands buries itself in her hair as he pulls her even closer, even though it's barely possible.

"Is it because you mentor that you don't want to see me there?" asks Kaya into his shirt.

Finnick rests his chin on her head and closes his eyes. "I definitely don't want to have to see you in the games at all, the circumstances don't matter in the slightest. I just want you to be here when I get back," he whispers.

Her hands bury themselves in the fabric of his shirt and she whispers a barely audible, "Okay."

____________________

By the time Finnick is finally back in District 4, the games have been over for almost two weeks. His tributes have already been dead a while before that, but the Capitol, not to mention Snow, always finds enough ways to keep him busy.

As usual, he has had to spend more time than he would have liked with a wide variety of people from the Capitol elite. It was a long and tiring stay as always, but this time his restlessness was far stronger than usual. This time there was something to look forward to upon his return.

It is already evening and the sun is sinking into the waves on the horizon. Kaya will have moved out of the academy's living quarters by now, but today it's already too late to go looking for her. It will be the first thing he takes care of in the morning.

His destination for the evening is the bar down by the harbor. The place is usually well frequented by the fishermen who stop in after their work on their way home. Finnick often spends the first few hours there after he returns home, not because he would want to get drunk, but because it's a good place to shed the skin he wears in the Capitol.

He finds an unoccupied table in a corner and settles there. While he appreciates the presence of the good-humored sailors near him, he is not yet in the mood for friendly conversation. He prefers to keep to himself for the time being.

The unexpected sound of glass hitting wood snaps him out of his thoughts, and before him suddenly stands a generously filled glass of golden-brown rum. It's commonly the drink of choice in District 4 and is usually home-brewed in one or the other basement.

"I didn't order anything," he says, confused, but as he looks up at the person now standing beside him, his heart stops for a moment.

"You know why I love sneaking up on you? That puzzled face you always make is just fantastic, in a way almost cute. Sometimes I wish I could paint it so I could hang it in my apartment and enjoy it all day long."

It takes Finnick an uncomfortably long moment to sort out his thoughts sufficiently to form coherent sentences again.  Completely out of nowhere, Kaya stands in front of him and only now does he realize just how much he actually wanted to see her.

"You do realize that you just admitted that you want to look at me all day, right?" he asks with slight amusement.

She gives him a grin and coquettishly replies, "I said I wanted to see the stunned look on your face all day."

"It's the same thing to me," he counters.

This makes Kaya laugh and she sits down across from him at the empty seat at the table. Her amusement gives way to a gentle tone as she asks, "How are you?"

"Better than I was two minutes ago," he replies, playing with his fingers on the rim of the glass she has set out for him. "So, you're working here now? To be honest, that surprises me; after all, so much hustle and bustle and close contact with people isn't really your thing. Especially always having to be extra nice to everyone," he remarks.

Kaya props her head in her arms and explains, "Well, while the others are busy just flirting with people, it takes someone to actually do the work. It's a functioning distribution of tasks." At this, she nods subliminally in the direction of another waitress who is standing by a group of men with a broad smile, playing sheepishly with her hair.

Finnick snorts a laugh. "So you're not flirting with me? That's too bad."

"Don't people do that to you all day long? Don't you ever get tired of it?"

"That depends on who's doing it," he says in a calm tone, watching her chew on her lower lip to suppress a grin.

"This is just supposed to be transitional," she finally says, making a vague gesture around the room. "It's hard to get a useful job in the city or at the port. I've spent the last few years just training. I have pretty much no contacts here anymore and people don't know me. It's like I didn't even exist until now," she sighs, somewhat dejectedly.

"Maybe I can help you with that," Finnick replies, taking a sip of the rum. The taste takes some getting used to, but he is by now.

Kaya gives him a skeptical look and replies firmly, "I don't want to just be accepted by anyone because you talked them into it."

"If I just go and talk in front of some acquaintances about an overly hardworking and capable friend who's looking for work and maybe gush a little bit about your very real talents, it's not persuasion," he laughs.

She mirrors his laughter before sighing and murmuring softly, "I really missed you, Odair."

Before he can say anything back, however, a gruff male voice roars across the room. "Hey, I don't pay you for talking," the bar owner grumbles before disappearing between people again.

Kaya drops her head back and groans, "You'd better rave about me as soon as possible. I really need to get out of here." Hesitantly, she rises from the chair again.

"That's too bad," Finnick remarks, amused, "because I think dresses suit you. I don't remember to have seen you in one before."

She looks down at herself for a moment and then does a graceful turn for him that sends the skirt of her navy blue dress flying. The smile on her face might as well be the most beautiful one he's gotten from her to this day, and his heart jumps a little in his chest.

"When do you get off work?" he asks.

Kaya stretches her neck to catch a glimpse of the clock on the wall and replies, "In about an hour."

"Well, I'll wait," he says before she hurries off to take care of the other guests.

Time passes as if it were only a few minutes, while he doesn't take his eyes off her for a second. He would look at her all day long, too, if he could.

When she finally arrives at his table again with her jacket under her arm, they waste no time and leave the bar.

Out on the street, where it's dark by now, Finnick asks, "Same place as always?"

"Sure," Kaya replies. She looks at him with a grin and pulls her jacket aside to let him catch a glimpse of the full bottle of rum she's hiding underneath. "I brought us a little something."

Finnick snorts and raises his eyebrows. "Aren't you going to get in trouble for this?"

"Nobody will notice. And besides, it's poetic justice. I've caught him more than once helping himself to our tips," Kaya explains dryly.

They climb over the rocks on the coast and finally reach the old lighthouse. Since fishing stopped in the area around the reef, it is no longer used and is therefore abandoned. Finnick long ago declared it his personal favorite hiding place, and Kaya is the only one he has brought here since.

They climb the steps and finally arrive at the upper platform. Along the way, Finnick has pulled a bundle of blankets from one of his hiding spots, which they now spread out on the ocean side of the platform, but far enough away from the railing.

So they sit up there, backs against the wall of the light chamber, their shoulders touching, watching the roaring waves that are hard to separate from the dark sky.

They pass the bottle back and forth a few times before Kaya speaks up. "I saw the games," she says carefully. "I'm sorry."

Of course, he knew they'd have to talk about it sooner or later, but the subject still triggers a deep trepidation in him. What exactly she is sorry for he doesn't know. Maybe that two young people had their lives stolen, or that they were the ones who, in a sense, victimized Sandy so that Kaya could live. Basically, they were the ones who stole from her.

"Me too," he replies, but then recognizes the fearfulness in her eyes. "But not because of you," he adds, holding her gaze.

She seems to understand what he is trying to tell her, that if someone has to become a victim, he doesn't regret saving her from it.

Kaya lowers her eyes and after a while she asks, "The one who won, the girl from 7, did you ever meet her, after the games."

"I did."

"What's she like?"

"Angry," he replies with raised eyebrows.

"What a surprise," Kaya says sarcastically.

"Not just normal angry," Finnick corrects, "Angry in a very intense, really scary way. The kind where any second you expect her to pull an axe out of her jacket and throw it at you."

Kaya laughs heartily and replies, "Sounds like you like her."

He sighs and admits, "She's all right."

There's silence for a while before Kaya whispers, "Do you think I could have stood up to her?"

"That's something I'd rather not think about," he says wistfully, taking his eyes off the horizon to turn his head toward her.

Her face is much closer than he expected and her eyes search for his. The light of the moon is enough to make out her delicate features, and his gaze slowly wanders over the figure that has become so familiar to him.

"What would you like to think about?" she finally whispers into the darkness, breaking the dam once and for all.

The answer is that he doesn't want to think at all, and he doesn't when his lips meet hers in the next moment. It's just an innocent caress, gentle and hesitant, before he pulls back again.

Kaya doesn't let him, and chases after his lips as they leave hers. She gently places a hand on his cheek and pulls him back to her, demanding, but tender, into a slightly firmer kiss.

The same feeling as when they embraced at the academy is back, only a thousand times stronger. It's like he's stuck in a perfect dream with her, noses touching, lips brushing together, completely lost in that comforting warm feeling he only gets when he's near her.

Any hesitation is gone and he wraps his arms tightly around her as he steals her breath away, pulling her close until she's nearly straddling him. She is similarly entwined with him and one hand plays with the hair on the back of his neck.

Only when their breath becomes scarce do they detach from each other a little, foreheads touching and breathing heavily.

As his mind slowly catches up with him again, his thoughts are racing. Everything is abruptly back in his head, the things he does while he's in the Capitol that Kaya has no idea about, what Snow is threatening him with to make him do all that, the fact that Kaya is now also another chink in his armor, and the fear of what she would think of him if she knew everything.

"Maybe we shouldn't ..." he begins, but he can't bring himself to finish the sentence.

Uncertainty spreads across Kaya's face. "Why would you say that?" she asks, visibly confused.

Finnick gently rubs her back where his hand rests. "There are things you don't know about, bad things that ..." again he can't find the words, or maybe he just can't bring himself to say them.

"I don't know what you mean by that," she says hesitantly.

He'd love to turn back time so he wouldn't have to have this conversation, but as much as he wants to keep what he has with Kaya, he's not going to be able to just keep her in the dark forever. It feels like he's deceiving her, and by his next forced visit to the Capitol at the latest, he'd be betraying her, too, albeit not willingly.

He averts his gaze, for he will never bring the words past his lips, while she looks at him with wide eyes. "There are people that I ..." he begins, "They're not like you but ..."

"Are you talking about your visits to the Capitol?" she asks slowly, with a questioning look. His behavior worries her, because as long as she's known Finnick, she's never seen him so nervous and anxious. What she's noticed over time, though, is the sadness he's always hides proficiently under a smile or a playful comment, and she wonders if whatever is bothering him so much is the cause of that, too.

Finnick takes a shaky breath. "I know you have to get to see what they say about me on Capitol TV at least once in a while," he finally counters.

Kaya gives him an airy laugh and asks, "You mean all the people who like to hang on your arm to feel somehow significant?"

"You say it like that, but that's not all, not by a long shot," Finnick replies seriously.

"Is there someone else?"

"No one like you, never anyone like you," he announces firmly. "But the things I have to do at the Capitol...I'll never be able to...I won't be able to stop, you know? I'm afraid that I'm bad for you. I think you deserve better, someone better than me, someone who can give themselves to you completely."

Kaya looks at him so insistently, as if trying to decipher the riddle of his being only with her eyes. "The people you're with at the Capitol, do you really feel anything for them?"

"Heavens no," he exclaims, "I would like nothing better than to simply forget their existence."

"Then do it," Kaya retorts, adjusting her position above him until their noses are almost touching. "Forget about everyone and everything else. Tell me I'm the only one, and we can just stay exactly like this, because you're my whole world. You're the one who saved me, so my heart beats only for you, do with it as you please," she announces softly.

It takes him a moment to collect himself, but after a deep breath, he looks into her eyes again and whispers softly but with seriousness, "You are the first and the only one for me."

"That's enough for me," is her only reply before she presses another tender kiss against his mouth.

And for now, it's enough for him too, enough to temporarily ease his conscience and sink back into her loving embrace.

They sit like that for a long time, snuggled close together, her head on his shoulder while his arms are wrapped around her.

"Whatever it is that weighs so heavily on your heart, you can tell me if you want. Maybe someday or never, it won't change how I feel about you. Just promise me to be honest when you do," is the only thing she mumbles to him later.

He will tell her, he will have to, even at the risk of her being wrong about this. But no matter how it turns out, he could never continue to do Snow's bidding while Kaya sits unsuspectingly at home waiting for him. But not tonight, just this one night he wants to spend in peace.

"I promise."

~~~

Image source for my divider: freepik

[somethingsomethingdrawing]

omg lore drop

Ssooo

Bout abunch if centuries ago, before Captain Jasper Cookie became a captain he was just a wee lad following around his father. Course he mostly swabbed the deck n' hosted the sail (Though he was quite frail at the time so it was quite difficult and someone else had to help him). Throughout the time being out at sea he's met quite a few cookies ofcourse, he eventually meets this odd octopus (Cough Cough LARIMAR COUGH) who offered to give him a prize "This little thing will be worth your while young sailor! All you gotta do is win my simple game!" Course it was a riddle game, though not too smart, Jasper Cookie managed to guess the right answer! "Well well well, looks like someone's finally won my game for once, that's a first.. Oh well! As promised, ya get your prize, now scram and enjoy the rest of your life" She said as she handed him the locket before slithering back to the black of the ocean. Course, Jasper wears the locket thinking nothing of it.

He returns to Abalone's ship and does his regular duty of swabbing the deck. And insert the mermaid's tale event happening, Abalone's ship is now SINKING thanks to black pearl (as she should) Jasper is still on the ship, hanging on whatever he can to not get soggy. Abalone is yelling for his son to help him (cuz why not) Of course it's his dad, Jasper wants to help him but something pulls him back, telling him to climb to the highest point of the sinking ship, he listens to whatever is filling his head and leaves his father to die. He gets to the highest point the ship of the ship and jumps, getting away from Black Pearl's raging vortex that swallows the ship (I can't remember if it was a vortex or not). Jasper swims away, looking back at the wails from the sinking ship. He feels guilty for leaving his father to die, but he kept swimming to shore.

After reaching shore, he plops onto the sand and processes the near death experience he went through. And after a long hard thought, he decided from that day forth he'd go on more dangerous adventures and eventually became a captain. During the adventures he found many a treasures, met new cookies and gained their trust, who which became part of his crew. Ofcourse over time he went on a CERTAIN journey with his crew, visiting the duskloom sea. Foolish sailors! People thought, watching as his ship and crew went sailing towards that deadly ocean. Eventually days go by, no sight of their return. Days turn into weeks, still no sign of ship. Weeks turn into months, months into a year. After twenty years of that ship going missing into the duskloom sea, everyone thought that the ship had sank and everyone abroad became soggy and succumb to their fate.

But- What in the world!? What's that blinding light coming from the darkness of that deadly sea!? Why it's a sturdy ship shining bright with crystallized armor! Shining so bright almost as if it were the sun itself! Once the ship made it back to the docks, Captain Jasper Cookie hopped off and gave a hearty hello to the curious cookies who nearly surrounded the entire ship! They were amazed how Jasper hadn't aged a single bit since he left! Course, they also wondered where has he been for the past two decades? How did he survive? Why such a blinding ship? And where was his crew!? Before any of those were answered, he simple dropped a large chest full of precious treasures! Golds, jewelry, emeralds, you name it! Everyone simply became too distracted by the treasures and thanking him they forgot they're questions!

Course, even hundreds years later no one knows the answers except for him! Some rumors spread about, some saying he never went to the duskloom sea in the first place! Some say he abandoned his crew! Even some think he's a ghost due to the ships very pale colors! And the eerie shine it has at night.. Spooky! Though he found himself with a whole new crew! Some of which sharing the eerie shine with the ship! People thought this whole new crew were all ghosts of his previous crew! Such a silly rumor. There was a rumor of a shining cookie helping the sailors escape. What nonsense! A mere cooking saving a whole boat from the wraith of black pearl cookie? Now that's just silly! Some speculate it was the Shining Knight who's rarely ever seen, yet there's hardly any proof of their existence! Only a single carving on some stone of a shimmering light floating between the sea and sky!

Besides that  w e e  ramble

That silly locket Jasper carries with him everywhere seems to be getting eyed at more frequently.. Many of greedy cookies have tried to offer him many things for that locket. But he's declined every offer ever given to him. Quite a few cookies tried to threaten him to give it up, but he simply laughs at their faces and walks off! They've tried to snatch the locket, only to be met with a face plant into the wall or floor! He only laughs at their pathetic attempts to steal the locket and goes on with his day! After a day of threats and fights, he goes back to his ship and sails out with his glimmering crew. No one knows where he goes next, nor when he leaves. He and his crew are quite the mystery! Yet Jasper never aging always baffles cookies! Leaving them to ponder how he does it!

I am NOT good at writing stuff shdkd

I'm still drawing bros crew cuz I decided to make em look COMPLICATED cries

YA GET A P E E K at two of em u3u ✨

[myfavouritelunatic]

Together

Hellghoul Week Day Four! I chose the prompt 'Storm' but it also kinda fits with the other prompt, 'Once Upon a Time!'

Hope you enjoy the following domestic fluff!

🎃🌩️🛌❤️🛌🌩️🎃

The crash of thunder wasn’t the only loud noise this night. Bedroom door flung open, a little girl sprung through, moving as fast as lightning towards the bed where her parents were sleeping. She climbed up on the mattress and crawled her way in between her mother and father, shaking and crying.

Mother stirred first. “Celebrían… what’s wrong?” “It’s the storm, Galadriel.” Muffled Father, turning slowly into consciousness and away from the dreamland of his pillow. He stroked his daughter’s silver hair, trying to find her precious face, and when he did, he saw red rimmed eyes wet with tears. “Oh baby girl… come here.” Father sat up in the bed, pulling Celebrían tightly into his comforting arms that wrapped around her like protective branches.

“Do you want a cup of warm milk? Maybe some chocolate from our trick or treating?” Offered Mother, placing a tender kiss on her forehead. Her daughter nodded timidly in response, shaking against Father as another clap of thunder shook the house. “You hold tight to Dad and I’ll be right back.” She parted with another kiss and a knowing look at her husband.

“Shall I tell you a story, Celebrían? One that will stop you from being scared of storms?” She nodded up at her father with bright puppy dog eyes. He smiled down at her lovingly and ran his caring hand through her hair. Father always knew the right words to say to calm her down. She was his silver sparkle, the apple of his eye. He would do anything for her.

“Long ago, there was a man and a woman. Both were stranded at sea. Their journeys had been hard and long and full of peril. They didn’t like each other at first. Though with nothing but the sea and sun to keep them company, they had no choice. How else were they going to survive and make it back to land?”

Mother came back in silently, sitting beside her daughter, warm milk and a small bowl of sweets in hand to help comfort her. Saying nothing, she let Father continue to talk. She smiled at her daughter, her husband. Celebrían already so enthralled by the story he was telling. Hanging on every word.

Father smiled at Mother, and kept talking. “Everything changed for them, when a storm approached from the horizon. Big black clouds, flashes of lightning, gusts of wind that tossed the waves all about them. And the thunder. Louder than this!” He said, pointing up at the ceiling and as if on cue, the sky rumbled above them.

“Halbrand, you’re not helping.” Mother spoke, worried her daughter's fears may only worsen. Father poked his tongue out at Mother which made Celebrían giggle. She heard him whisper something at Mother but couldn’t make out what it was, then continued his harrowing tale.

“On one tiny raft in the middle of a treacherous sea, they were like a grain of sand on the shore. So small and so easily lost. All it would take would be one big big wave to crash down and swallow them up. The storm raged on and on and on, loud and cruel and endless.” “What happened, Daddy? Did they survive?!” Celebrían’s voice was filled with wonder and fear and excitement. He had captured her imagination like he always did. The little girl could practically smell the sea water.

“Not only did they survive, silver sparkle, they thrived. In the middle of that storm, they made a promise to each other. They saved each other. They bound themselves together. So when the woman fell beneath the surface and began to sink to the bottom, the man dived deep to pull her back up. They kept each other alive. The storm could not break them no matter how hard it tried.”

Celebrían cheered in relief for the man and woman in Father’s story. “So you see, Celly… as long as the three of us are together, that silly storm out there… it can’t hurt us. We’ll survive it together.” “Really?” “Really really. You know why?” “Why?” “Because the man and the woman… that was me and your mummy.”

Her eyes went so wide the whole world could have filled them. “That was you?! You were stranded at sea?” Celebrían’s mouth was agape as she stared back and forth between her doting parents. “Well actually–” Mother began but Father cut her off, clearing his throat. Her face changed a little, as if realising something wonderful, so she nodded at her daughter, smiling.

“And now you’re here. That storm was a gift, Celebrían. It strengthened us. And when I look at you, I see the sun that rises through the dark clouds. I see that all perils are worth fighting. Together.” Mother spoke, her voice filled with emotion, and Celebrían watched a little tear fall down her cheek.

Mother and Father gazed at each other, the history of their lives together shining out from their eyes. Father even took Mother’s hand and gave it a quick kiss. “So this storm? Piece of cake, right, Celly?” “Right!” “That’s my girl.” Father spoke proudly, ruffling her silver locks.

BANG!

The loudest clap of thunder burst through the air, and all three of them jumped in the bed. Father began to laugh as if the storm itself had told a fantastic joke. “Of course it’s okay to let life surprise you every now and then.”

Celebrían sipped her soothing warm milk and began to feel sleep sneaking its way back in. Mother noticed her eyelids beginning to droop and took the cup from her daughter lest she spill it, setting it next to the untouched spoils of their trick or treating. The last thing the little girl felt was the arms of her parents around her, then she slipped into a dream about a man and a woman on a raft at sea.

The next roar of thunder did not rouse her, nor disturb the smile upon her sweet face.

🎃🌩️🛌❤️🛌🌩️🎃

Tagging: @hellghoulweek @pursuitseternal @heronamedhawks @gil-galadhwen @theriverwild @scriberated @thrillofhope @youwearfinethingswellwriter @jhalya @klynnvakarian @90shaladriel @coraleethroughthelookingglass @somebirdortheother @ichabodjane @hazelmaines @marimosalad @rebelrebelwrites @hikarielizabethbloom @tmwillson3

[thetempleofthemasaigoddess]

A seal-skin around my shoulders (part 1)

Elendil x Selkie!reader

 *****

The Selkie dance on the beach on full moon nights.

Your grandmother, who is the tribe’s elder, sits cross-legged in the middle, singing a song that is even older than her, as old as your people, as old as the world, while her two young attendants stand at her side and follow her rhythm with the clap of their hands. All around them the others dance, you and your friends, and the rest of your tribe. Your feet stamp on the sand, your hair sway in the wind, your hands claw at the sky. Your seal-skins are piled in a corner, barely touched by the Sea’s recurring caress on the shoreline; once your dance will have ended, each of you will put theirs on once more, and you will all return home.

The dance is almost at its peak, the rhythm of clapping getting more and more rapid, matched by your heartbeats, the movements of your naked bodies shrouded by the dark of the starless night harmonious but frantic, and not a single step is missed, or failed: this is the Dance of the Selkie, repeated at every turn of the tide where land and Sea converge, and your people, also living halfway between the two worlds, use it to celebrate and honour their nature, and to give thanks for the gifts you have received.

It is the lapping of the waves that seals your doom, the rumble of the Sea on the shore covering the noise of the approaching footsteps; the Men have spied you for a while, hidden behind the sand dunes all around the beach, so enchanted by your dance they have forgotten the foul purpose that has brought them there. When they realize you are going to leave soon, they finally move, and attack. 

Everything seems to happen in the time of an heart-beat. Your grandmother shouts to warn the others of the danger, and in a moment the Selkie break the circle and rush towards their seal-skins to put them on and reach safety in the water; at the same time, the men -only two, but with ropes and knives in their hands and ruthlessness in their eyes- run towards their prey. 

You run as fast as you can, leaving deep footprints in the sand. A sigh of relief escapes your lungs as you see a member of the tribe, the male who often acts as her guard, carry your grandmother in his arms since she can barely walk without assistance, let alone run; she appears calm, almost unfazed, as she picks up her seal-skin -she can recognize it at first glance amidst a thousand others, as you all can- and prepares to wrap it around herself while some are already jumping in the water, legs making way for fins and candid fur covering their naked skin. At the last moment your grandmother hesitates, looking for you amidst the chaos to make sure you are safe. You find her eyes with yours and smile to reassure her; you already see your skin, at the bottom of the pile the others are quickly selecting theirs from, you are just seven steps away, in a moment you’ll have put it on and you’ll be safe, back in the depth of the Sea...

Six steps... four... two...

And then a scream pierces the sky; you turn as you still run, and your heart stops for a moment. 

The two Men have grabbed one of your grandmother’s attendants, and the little girl screams at the top of her lungs, desperately trying to set herself free, but they are already binding her legs with the rope; one of them violently slaps her, to subdue or maybe to silence her, and you see red. 

You stop and turn, leaving your seal-skin behind. “Let her go!” you shout, charging against the Men; they are bigger than you, but they were not expecting your intervention, and with a violent shove you are able to make them leave the girl. “Get away!” you order her, but she is already running towards the heap of seal-skins, some adult members of the tribe approaching to protect her. 

Your relief lasts for a split second, because the Men you have deprived of their prey are all to happy to retaliate. The one you have hit screams of rage, and his punch collides with your face; pain explodes in your mind, and you stagger, desperately trying not to fall but knowing you are already at the mercy of your would-be captors. You have never been so scared; this is the first time you see Men, except those you have glimpsed on board of the great ships sailing close to the rocks you and the members of your tribe like resting on in your seal form, and you have no idea what they want from you. They have no reason to fear the tribe, since you were just dancing; do they want to punish you for trespassing in their territory? Or is it just thirst for violence driving them? You have taken part in the dance a thousand times and nothing like this had ever happened, but there are stories of Selki being captured by Men, or worse, whose seal-skins had been stolen, and thinking about it is enough to fill your heart with terror...

Your seal-skin! You can see it, just a few steps away on the shore, the only one still unclaimed by its owner; if only you could grab it and spread it on your shoulders you will be safe, but, you think wistfully as you are forced on your knees and panic fills your heart, it might as well be a hundred leagues away...

“Bind her arms! Don’t let her get away!” one of the Men orders; you scream and order them to release you, but it is no use: you are trapped, the rest of your tribe safe in the cool embrace of the Sea while you are forced to stay on land; no one can help you, they have all left, except... 

Your grandmother is still standing on the shore, her naked body kissed by the full moon’s light, her ancient and beautiful seal-skin in her hands. She looks at you, and maybe for the first time since you have known her, she seems not to know what to do; she is terrified as she whispers your name and looks all around her, instinctively looking for a salvation you both know she will not find. 

“Run! Grandmother, go, go!” you scream desperately, having already understood the terrible truth: there is nothing you can do to protect or save yourself, and whatever these Men have in store for you, it would be much worse if the one enduring it was a older, more fragile person like your grandmother. So at least one of you will live. “Don’t worry about me, the tribe needs you! Go, I beg you!”

Her hesitation lasts for a second more; she has never been the most communicative, or affectionate, of grandmothers, but you know she loves you, and you can see her heart breaking, and the fear and the helplessness and the shame in her aged face, those eyes so similar to yours and the mouth whose kisses and smiles have always been so rare, and because of this more precious. She knows she cannot help you, and every moment she tarries she risks to be captured as well, but you are her granddaughter, the closest relative she has left, and she thought of losing you is so terrible it could kill her...

“May the Great Father protect you, my child.” she whispers in the end; she looks at you for a moment, then she wraps the seal-skin around her shoulders and, just as the Man who is holding you prisoner orders the other to “Take the crone as well.” she jumps in the water.

She swims with the same energy and speed of when she was your age, and in the blink of an eye she has disappeared under the surface, away from your captors, safe with your people, in her seal form. The Men, only half-satisfied of the single prey they have captured, start to drag you away from the beach; you do your best to balk, trying desperately to set yourself free and already knowing you are simply fighting out of pride and not because you actually hope to achieve something. You are alone, for the very first time in your life and as you never thought you would be, your tribe far away and unable to help and, even worse, you don’t have the faintest idea of what is going to happen to you. But whatever these two plan to do with me, I doubt I’ll be happy with it.

The two Men know more about your race than you about theirs, because while one of the two keeps you still and even binds your wrists behind your back to make it more difficult for you to run, the other reaches the shore and takes your seal-skin; he holds your most precious treasure in his dirty, rough hands, giving you a smug smile.

“If we keep this you cannot swim anymore, if I am not mistaken.” he states, and he is right, right as rain; as long as they have your seal-skin, you cannot turn back to your seal form, you are struck on land, and you cannot go home. 

It is the end. Oh, the Great Father have mercy, what will become of me?

In the end, courtesy of a fist to your stomach, you are forced to obey and follow your captors along the beach, towards the unknown, a rough hand pushing or dragging you every few steps. The two Men discuss about the people who would be interested in buying you - a concept whose meaning you cannot even begin to comprehend. You walk with your head bent under the moon still shining in the dark sky above you, feeling your tears blending with the sea-water sprayed on your face. 

*****

Awaken by the caress of the sun on your face, you slowly, and painfully, sit up to look all around you, vaguely aware of the events of last night but still unable to get your bearings. 

Above your head is the low, curved ceiling of a small grotto, empty except for you and a few rocks protuding from the sand; getting outside, you are welcomed by the song of the Sea, the pleasant sensation of the cool water on the shore lapping at your feet, and the apparent absence of your captors, something you immediately give thanks for to the Great Father. 

Lazy clouds glide on the azure sky above as you look all around, trying and failing to understand where you are. Slowly, you start remembering what happened last night; the two Men who had captured you had almost brought you to the edge of the beach, intentioned to bring you who knows where, when taking advantage of a moment of inattention you were able to slip away. You had run for your life, ordering your legs to keep going until you had feared your lungs were going to explode, and then, reasonably sure you had left your captors behind, you had looked for a place to rest. 

You feel better now, hungry but clear headed, still sore for the blow you had taken to the stomach but ready to face the new day... and decide what to do. 

You are still in danger, and your situation is undoubtedly dire. If the Men planned to deliver you to someone else, they might decide to come back and look for you, and they still have your seal-skin, to use as a proof of your existence or to stop you from returning to the Sea; your grandmother once told you that the Land-people have legends about the Selkie, just like the hearsay and rumors about them you have been told from the other members of your tribe, some of which you strongly suspect are not true: who could really believe Men can breathe fire when they are angry, and have built machines that allow them to fly like birds?

Unfortunately, those Men knew your people’s most important weakness: without your seal-skin you won’t be able to change into your seal form and return home; as a Land-person you are still a strong swimmer, but unable to breathe underwater and resist in the coldest part of the Sea. Will you ever see your people again? Your friends? Your grandmother? Or are you doomed to remain on that shore for the rest of your life, estranged and unable to return home...?

“Hello...”

The voice who spoke to you is soft, kind, definitely non-threatening, but afraid as you still are to be captured, your reaction is one of alarm; you jump, mentally berating yourself for the long minutes you have spent exposed on the beach instead of looking for a shelter in case your attackers were to return, and you are about to start fleeing again when the person who has spoken raises his arms, hands on either sides of his head, as if he wanted to show you he is unharmed.

“Please, do not run; I don’t want to hurt you.” he tells you. He is a young man, who appeared seemingly out of thin air -or maybe, you reflect with a sigh, you were simply so deep in your thoughts that he was able to sneak up behind you without too much an effort- from behind the grotto you had spent the night hiding in “Do... do you need help? And... do you understand my tongue?”

You do, even though the accent and the pronunciation are slightly different, almost as easily as if you were talking to your grandmother or one of your friends, which is odd, and inexplicable: does this mean that Land-folk and Selkie share a common origin? Or did one of the two teach it to the other?

Still, that is a matter for another day. You slowly nod, diffident, as the Man comes closer, looking at you; he seems fascinated. “Good; I am a friend, you can trust me. You... I am sorry, you are a Selkie maiden, am I right?”

“What makes you think that?”

He explains that last night a pair of Men at the local alehouse were telling everyone who would listen that they had found a band of Selkie dancing on the shore, and even though they had been unable to catch any of them, they had taken one of their seal-skins. Skepticism was predominant among the listeners, since the two Men were known for the tall stories they used to tell, but he had been curious and, having a bit of time to himself, he had decided to check. 

He looks at you, and you look at him; except for the two of last night, he is the first Land-person you meet, and you can’t help being curios, even though you won’t trust him simply because he said you can. 

“What is an alehouse?” you ask in the end, and he blinks, as if he wasn’t expecting that question.

“An alehouse is... a place where people gather to drink together.” 

“Like a spring?”

“Something like that. Listen, my name is Elendil; how may I call you?”

“I am called (name).”

“It is a beautiful name.” he says, and he seems sincere in so doing, even though you are not in the right disposition of mind to appreciate a compliment “Listen, (name)... maybe I can help you.”

“Why should I trust you?” you ask him, your voice expressing both skepticism and resentment; it is true that you've never been in need of help as you are now, but that doesn’t mean that you will put your life in the hands of the first Land-person you meet “For all I know you could be in league with those Men, and they sent you to look for me.”

The Man -Elendil- turns serious, acknowledging you have no reason to trust him. “No one sent me; I can only assure you, and hope you will believe me.” he says in the end, stepping closer; reflexively you move back, to keep some distance between the two of you, but you must admit in your heart, you already trust him - instinctively, and fully, even though you don’t know why, even though maybe you shouldn’t “My mother used to tell me stories about the Selkie when I was younger, and those two at the alehouse might have simply skinned a seal to pass its coat for a Selkie’s seal-skin, but I wanted to be sure... I have always been curious to see one of you.”

“And now that you have seen me, what are you going to do? Do you want to capture me and sell me to the Men who are still looking for me?” 

“Absolutely no!" Elendil exclaims, clearly offended by your insinuation; he hesitates, as if he didn’t actually thought what he would do once he had fulfilled his dream to see a Selkie in the flesh, and then he smiles, kindness open and sincere on his face “You... you cannot go back to the Sea without your seal-skin. Am I right?”

You nod, forcing yourself not to give in to panic and despair. What will you do from now on? Where will you sleep? How will you procure food? What if those Men come back and...?

“Well, I don’t know what one of your people would do in my place, but here in Númenor we help and protect those who are in need. If you wish, you are welcome to come to my home, to rest and decide what to do; no one will do you any harm until you are under my roof, I promise.” 

You don’t answer for a minute, deep in thought. You have heard terrible things about the Land-people, and your own grandmother warned you to stay away from them, from their cruelty and malice; you just need to think about your parents to know how dangerous it could be to let them approach you.

But you do need help, and this young Man seems trustworthy... even though you are well aware that he could led you towards even worse a doom than what awaited you if you had fallen prey of your would-be captors last night. You don’t know what to do; even worse, you don’t know how to chose, beside trusting your luck and hoping the Great Father will protect you.

Elendil is still patiently waiting for an answer; he smiles, but he doesn’t talk, as if having understood how vital this decision is for you. He has a beautiful smile, you almost involuntarly notice, an open face framed by dark hair, and eyes as blue as the Sea under the midday light. Everything in him -his smile, his spontaneous offer of help, the fact that he carries no weapons or tools he could use to imprison you- seems to invite you to trust him; and trust him is what you decide to do, at least for the time being, hoping you won’t have to bitterly regret it. 

“Very well.” you answer in the end “If you can help me, I will be grateful.”

Elendil smiles, as if your decision makes him genuinely happy, as if he received a gift. Then he hesitates, and he takes off the cloak covering him from shoulder to foot, not unlike the seal-skins Selkie wear; underneath, he is wearing clothes you don’t have a name for, but whose colour is almost as blue as his eyes.

“I am not cold.” you state, confused, as he offers you the cloak. 

“I know, but...” Elendil hesitates, and it is only now that you realize he is embarassed, and trying desperately to keep his eyes on yours without looking at the rest of your body “You... Selkie don’t wear clothes? Except for your seal-skin?”

“No. Why?”

“My people do; you need to be covered at all times, otherwise... well, you will draw attention on yourself, which I imagine is the last thing you want. Nakedness outside the bedroom is considered inappropriate for us.”

It sounds ridiculous -you guess the Land-people are born naked, just like the Selkie do, therefore shouldn’t it be normal for them to be in such a state? And what is a bedroom?- but you keep your questions for yourself and wrap the cloak around your shoulders, covering your body as much as you can; it is heavy and warm, but so different from the sensation of your seal-skin, and the contrast is almost enough to fill your eyes with tears. 

What will you do if you cannot retrieve your seal-skin? Will you have to stay on land forever? You will never see your grandmother, and your friends, again, never swim and play among the waves, never hunt for fish and rest on the rocks feeling the sun warming your fur...  

Do not cry. Do you not dare crying. What would grandmother say if she saw you? You must be strong, for your own good.

Elendil looks at you, compassion and understanding evident in his blue eyes; it is embarassing to let a stranger see you in such a sorry state, but he seems genuinely worried for you, which makes you feel -marginally- better... and shaken as you are, you wouldn’t be able to muster a single ounce of courage anyway.

“Come.” he says gently “You will be safe, I promise.”

You don’t answer, but you take the hand he is offering you and let him guide you away from the beach, the quiet murmuring of the Sea still caressing your ear.

TAGGING @starlady66 and @elvenenby.

As usual, I have no idea how long it will take me to write parte two!

[dahliarosebud]

- Love Is A War Series ~ Aemond x Reader

• Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6

Part 7 Part 8 Part 9

• MAIN-MASTER-LIST

• HOTD-MASTER-LIST

Warnings: sh, grief, kissing, teenagers being drunk, violence (hardly y/n just clocks him on the face), play fighting

Synopsis: After ignoring Aemond’s letters for 5 years he finally stops writing to you. After a year you grow curious as to whether or not he is still actually waiting for you. There you find him on a full moon in Wyl, Dorne waiting for you. Watch as they grow.

A/n: Thank you so much for all the love I got on part 3 it truly means a lot. I’m sorry about all the spelling mistakes. I was going to write letter, but I thought this was better. It goes up in months/moons. (Tags at the bottom)

-------- Month 4 - moon 4 - April

I arrived on the costal line of Wyl. Selene flew over Vahgar’s head as the older dragon shook off the sand. There he was. Sat in front of a fire. I jumped off of Selene, running my hand across her scales. 

“Hello Y/n,” he stood up and walked towards me. Stopping just in front of me. He has grown, he isn’t like the small boy I remembered. He smiled at me and I felt a surge of adrenaline. 

My hand balled into a fist. My knuckles connecting harshly with his jaw. Falling to the floor and holding his face. “That was for my sisters and my mother.” Proudly I stood over him.

He stared at me, his eye lingering on me for a while before he nodded softly. He sighed and moved back to his spot in front of the fire. “You really hurt me you know Aemond? First you attacked my sisters only to find out you had taken Vahgar at my mother’s funeral!” I stared at his face as he looked down.

“She is rightfully mine. She was unclaimed, she had no rider and your sisters started on me,” he argued a sneer growing on his lips. 

“They were eight years old Aemond. Eight and you, you were eleven,” I sighed expectantly.

“I don’t know what you want from me Y/n. I apologised, but I won’t apologise for defending my honour. All those years I took their abuse. I mean you were there and for defending myself I lost my fucking eye!” He threw his arms up into the air. I chewed the inside of my cheek, my nails skimming over the crescent moon scars on the back of my hand.

“You stopped writing.”

“What?” He laughed incredulously

“You stopped writing to me. For a year I awaited your letters like a fool because I clung to the hope that the same boy who would read with me, the boy who would talk about duty and honour would still be there, but now all I see is rage.”

“People change Y/n. I’m a man now I am no longer a snivelling boy who cowers in the corner. You don’t have to protect me anymore.” I nodded, quietly laughing. 

I stood up brushing the sand from my leather. Walking away shaking my head. “If you’re just going to leave could you at least grant me the satisfaction of why you came here in the first place?”

I climbed back onto Selene, grabbing the reigns. I looked down “I missed you. It’s stupid I know, but I did. I do.”

--------- Month 5 - moon 5 - May

I leant against my desk, sighing softly at the memory of last month. The boy I once knew was gone, but he still smiled the same and had the same blonde hair. The same eyes and milky-fading-freckled skin. 

“There you go miss,” the maid smiled after she had finished brushing my hair and straining it of the water from my bath. I smiled back at her. I didn’t move when I heard the doors shut behind her.

I opened my draw. Where the small box my mother had gave me resided. I carefully removed it from the draw opening the lid. The neat stack of letters left read and never answered. The latest one sat on top.

He spoke of his time training with Ser Criston and how Aegon has not changed. But he also spoke of how he had missed me also and that he did keep true to his promise. He had been going to Wyl for two years. 

I looked up. The shimmering silver staring at me asking me to go. I stood and removed my night gown replacing it with my dragon-riding clothes. Carefully I made my way the dragon keep. 

Am I a fool for going?

Yet, there he was stood waiting for me. I landed next to Vahgar, dismounting her and patting her neck before making my way towards him. “You came.” I could hear that smile on his face.

“You waited.” I now stood in front of him smiling as his own fell. The sand uncomfortably tried to swallow my shoes as I sat on the washed up driftwood. 

“I’ve written and yet you have not written back? I thought that was what you had wanted.” His voice was charmingly soft as he came to sit next to me. Breathing heavily through my nose I looked at him.

“I don’t know what I want,” I admitted with much resistance looking down and sighing incredulously. But that it was. That laugh. The thing I craved. The thing my heart had yearned for. I smiled as I heard him laugh that same stupid laugh. The laugh that used to brighten up my day. 

“You? You don’t know what you want?” He continued to laugh as if it were the most ridiculous thing in the whole world. I chuckled and pushed him away gently shaking my head.

------- Month 6 - moon 6 - June

“Hello Vahgar,” she gurgled as I pressed my hands to her scales. My eye caught hers as it flickered towards me. She continued to whistle as I ran my hand down her neck. My hand bumped up and down as it traced the lengthy scars and uneven green bumps. Selene grumbled from next to the older dragon.

I turned to look at Aemond. His white smile so clear as the orange flickered against his perfect skin. “What?” I asked with a smile as I walked towards him. I sat next to him on our piece of driftwood. 

“She doesn’t like many people. Well anyone really,” he laughed as he prodded the fire with a stick.

 “Well she was my mother’s dragon,”  I blurted. It was silently cold and airy. I looked down quickly finding the sand engulfing my boots extremely interesting all of a sudden. “I’m sorry I-”

“No. It’s fine she was your mother’s dragon,” he turned towards me taking my hands in his, “I’m sorry.” I pulled him into me. His blonde hair tickling my nose as I inhaled him softly.

We pulled apart, his hand finding my cheek as I smiled sadly at the few memories of my mother I clung too. His thumb brushing away the secretly grieving tears. 

“I’m sorry,” he breathed. Pressing our foreheads together. I looked up into his eyes swallowing harshly at the breath that got stuck. I pulled away, the lump finally dislodged as I leant against his shoulder. Watching the orange dance hand in hand with Dorne’s breeze. 

------- Month 7 - moon 7 - July

I laughed as I watched him pace as he ranted about Aegon. “- and he just stood there proud as if he hadn’t just mocked father in front of our mother like some drunken whoring fool. I mean that is exactly what he is ,but he can at least try not to act like it!”

He huffed exasperatedly as he sat on the sand in between my legs. He tilted his head back, his shoulders relaxing as I threaded my fingers softly through his ever growing hair. I laughed to myself as I weaved my fingers around some strands. I pulled harshly jumping up as his body jolted.

I stood back, my heart racing. My eyes widened as he stood up, his shoulders were aggressive as the moved with his breath. I turned to my right and began running. My feet carried me as fast as I could as I breathed deeply through my mouth as I continued to sprint away.

I dared to turn around. I willed myself to move faster as I saw he was close to me. Tripping over the sand as I continued to run away. A loud laugh broke out and tumbled out of my lips as I ran and ran.

Suddenly I toppled over. A large weight on my back as I fell. I rolled onto my back breathing heavily. I smiled as I heard desperate breaths of air next to me. My eyes crinkling as I watched the moon pear down at us from the sky.

I felt his hand on mine. It was strangely soft, but you could tell he had been working a sword. “Happy name-day Aemond,” I rolled onto my side staring at his face. Taking all of him in. 

A soft genuine, happy smile graces his lips.

------- Month 8 - moon 8 - August

“Where are you going?” I jumped as my father stared at me. His harsh gaze scolding me. He kicked off the wall walking up to me his gaze watchful and curious. 

My heart pounded and my pulse strained my ears. “I can’t sleep,” I spoke carefully, raising my head. I spun to maintain eye contact as he circled around me. The candle in his grasp flickering ominously, painting figure all around us.

“That does not explain why you are in your dragon riding gear Y/n,” he angrily breathed through his nose. I looked down clenching and unclenching my fists. My nails finding their way back into their usually spot, ready to make more crescent scars.

“I keep having nightmares about mother, remember her?” I whispered harshly, raising my head again. I pushed past him with a huff, “I’m going out to clear my head.” 

There it was again. That sickening lump in my throat. And suddenly I’m eleven again watching my mother beg Vahgar for death. Finally with Selene I saddled her and rode as fast as her wings could take us. 

My body jolted forward as we landed, cushioned my the silky sand. I jumped from her saddle, my boots slapping against he unstable ground. I wiped furiously at my tears.

I stood in front of the fire facing the sea. My hair brushing over my shoulders watching the waves lap at the shoreline. “Y/n,” he called so invitingly. I looked down a sob tearing from my throat. 

My view was blocked by his body. “Y/n? What is wrong?” His hands squeezed comfortingly on my shoulders. I shook my head. My face stung, irritated and red. I looked down, ashamed to meet his gaze.

“I-I...I just miss her so much,” my voice wavered and my lips quivered. His wrapped his arm around my waist as if I would break. So subtle was the pull into his warm chest.

He never let go. Never stopped comforting me. Never stopped lulling my woes. Even as we crumpled to the floor. He hugged me tightly, drinking in as much of my pain, my grief, my sorrow as humanly possible. 

We pulled away, his head pressed to mine. He slotted his hands into mine. I winced as his calloused hands brushed over my wounded skin. He pulled his head away, a mere breath away from mine.

My heart sped up as he turned my hands over in his. Observing the way he sighed through his nose as he watched his own thumb ghost over the new and old scars. 

I swallowed the fear as he clamped my hand together and engulfed them in his. More tears slipped and burned behind my eyes as he brought them to his lips. My eyes looked up to his closed ones as his eyebrows creased. 

A sigh of relief melted over me as his lips met my warm, sore hands. I fell into him tiredly. Wrapping my arms around him. Tucking my head into the crook of his neck. 

Shutting my eyes as his hands proceeded to smooth down my hair. “It’s going to be okay. It’s going to be okay,” he whispered into the night air. I tucked myself further into his embrace. 

“Can we just stay like this, even just for a little while?” I whispered back. His hum of agreement, a song to my needy heart.

And that’s the moment when I realised I was truly and unrevivably in love with Aemond Targaryen.

And that was the moment I realised I had love Y/n Targaryen my whole life.

------- Month 9 -  moon 9 - September

I danced around the fire as he laughed. I stopped in front of him laughing along. Reaching out and pulling him from his perch on our driftwood seat. The barley beer in his hand  and wine in mine.

We swapped drinks, the beer tart on my tongue as it mixed with previous gulp of sweet wine. More giggle bubbling up as everything blurred and slowed. Aemond’s own movements sluggish and slow as he laughed and giggled with me. 

I plopped to the ground and fell back , Aemond following suit. I reached up and traced the stares with delicate swirling fingers. “ I want to swim.” I jumped up, looking down at the man next to me. “Come.”

“What?” He laughed confused as he dazed at me, standing up himself and brushing his legs off.

“Come, lets go swimming.” He laughed at me. Quickly grabbing the water skins from the ground, handing me the wine. We smiled as we gulped down the rest dropping them to the floor once finished. 

He grabbed my hand spinning me. Our conjoined hands still in the air as I pulled him the shore line. Dropping his hand stopping just before the water could brush our feet. I began to undress down to my undergarments.

I turned my head to look over my shoulder only to catch him staring at my back. I fully turned around. “Come on Aemond,” I laughed and softly pushed him back. I ran (sloppily) into the water. Diving in once it reached just above my waist line.

I re-surfaced and brushed my hair away from my face. I looked around for the familiar blonde not seeing him anywhere. “Aemond?” I called. “Aemond!” Worry troubled my voice. “Aem-,” I gasped as I got dragged under the freezing water.

I burst out, my throat burning as I choked on the water I had swallowed. “You cunt,” I breathed deeply as I unhappily watched him laugh at me. I swam towards him, smiling as I watched his face change from amusement to confusion.

I braced my hands onto his shoulders pushing myself up and consequently him down. He shot up, pushing me back. I tossed my head back and cackled as I saw him. His long blonde hair covered his whole face as the ends pooled around him like a wet veil. 

 Tears came to my eyes and my ribs grew sore from laughing as he flipped his hair back. He grumbled and smiled as I attempted to turn and swim away only to be pulled back. I spun around in his grasp. His hands on my hips. My hands on his shoulders.

Our smiles softened as we stared at each other. I raised my hand move the stray hairs away that stuck to his forehead. Only now noticing how he had removed his eyepatch. His beautiful sapphire in place of his once gentle eye. 

I brushed my thumb under his eye, over his risen scar. My eyes flicking to his seeing the way way his eyes shut and the way his breath shallows. My eyes flicked down to his lips, flicking back up to his eye. 

I leant forward ever so slightly, stopping to feel the way our chests pressed together and how our heart beats drummed to the sway of the waves. Then...finally the gap was closed.

Our lips pressed together, gentle and tender. Heart warming and racing. It was everything I had imagined, everything I had dreamed. I had read every letter he had sent over the last five years. 

“Happy name-day Y/n.” He whispered, our lips brushing over one another. I smiled at him, as he kissed my forehead. “Avy jorrãelan,” That was what I wanted, all I wanted to hear.

“Avy jorrãelan,” I whispered into the mellow night. The sea shuddered around us. The moon smiled onto us.

------- Month 10 - moon 10 - October

Vahgar called out as she rose from the sand her heavy steps shaking the whole of Wyl. I smiled as I flew ahead. However, they soon caught up, Vahgar’s mass riding next to us. I looked to my left watching as Aemond pushed forward. 

The large tail swayed dangerously behind them. Selene and I swooped down under the belly of the beast. Pushing forward. Once the sky had cleared I flew up. 

I looked behind me seeing his smiling, amused face. “Come on Visenya catch up!” I called laughing as I heard his own chuckles break the wind. I put my arms out at my sides feeling the way the crisp air nipped at the skin.

There they were again. We flew slowly side by side. Flying towards the moon. Selene whistle and called to Vahgar, who grunted back. I pet her neck softly.

“I’ll race you back!” I shouted to my left. Diving down again we flew over the waves. Her claw dragging through the cold sea. We hovered just under the gren mass’s wing. 

Turning to my right to move slightly, we rose back up to be in level, them slightly ahead. I pushed forward once again, Selene’s raspy raw shouted back. Echoing like a broken melody. 

We shot ahead and I shouted in excitement. The rush of the wind could never parallel to the rush of my blood in my veins. We landed with a thud. Selene raising her head proud and high, us both shouting in victory.

I jumped from her saddle resting my head against her scaled jaw, my hand holding onto one of the smaller horns on her jaw line. The all mighty thud next to us signifying the losers arrival. 

“That was unfair Selene is faster,” he complained as he grabbed me by my waist, spinning me. I kissed him softly, his thumb running along my cheek. We parted and he grabbed my hand pulling me gently to our driftwood.

I sat on the sand as Aemond began to make the fire. I dragged my hand across the imperfect beige wood. Unsheathing the dagger with a ‘shing’ that cleanly cut through the quiet. Rhaenyra had gifted Luke, Jace and I a dagger on our name-days all similar.

Mine has a dragon pummel and the Sigel of the house Valaryion engraved into the metal of the dagger. I began to carve away at wood, concentrating on the way I moved the sharp tip.

Aemond came to sit next to me. Placing a kiss on the bottom of my jaw watching as I carefully carved our initials into the wood. “There.” I nodded affirmatively. I felt him smile against my neck, before he kissed my temple.

we turned around to face the singing warmth as we leant into each other and watched the heat eat away at the old rotting washed up wood.

------- Month 11 - moon 11 - November 

We walked through the bustling market, arm in arm. It was far from quiet. It was beautiful. There were children running and women carrying baskets of produce and supplies. The men at the market shouted about their items.

It was straight out of a tale my father would tell when my sisters and I were young. I pulled my cloak further over my face as we weaved between the people. I felt Aemond squeeze my hand lovingly. I looked up at him as he smiled down at me.

The man across from us on my right beckoned us over. I reached into my pocket taking out my purse. Th man thanked me as we walked away, the basket hung on my arm softly. The strong twisting and winding wood pressed against my arm.

My basket eventually grew heavy. Lemon cakes, bread, wines and fruits weighed my arm down, my body growing tired and sluggish rather quickly. We stopped at the blacksmiths, watching as my blonde lover payed the blacksmith for a dagger.

We quickly moved on. Meats and more wine being added to the already uncomfortable basket. We stopped on the far corner, “wait here.” He kissed the top of my head as he disappeared amongst the people.

I looked around, my eyes meeting those of a young child’s. Small curiously innocent eyes. I walked over to him the small child was muddied and his hair was matted. I reached into my basket handing him some fruit.

Then a lemon tart. I smiled as I watched his face light up in such joy. I gasped in shock as the child ruched into my arms and hugged me tightly. He pulled away with a wide smile and I place my hand onto the top of his head.

“Come now my love leave the child alone,” I waved goodbye to the small child rising to my full height. The weight of the basket now lighter. I linked my arm into Aemond’s again watching his face.

“Where did you go,” I asked as we began to weaved between the people again. My shoulder getting bumped every once in a while jostling me around.

“It does not matter.” I nodded slowly as we continued on our way back to the dragons.

------- Month 12 - moon 12 - December 

My eyes cracked open, the sun burning at them wasting no time. I groaned and rolled over. Now I faced the sleeping prince. His beauty is a sight to be hold. Especially in the morning.

I reached over and brushed some of his hair back, observing the way the sun kissed his skin. Breath-taking. The only way I could describe him as of right now. It is moments like these that I truly savour and keep dear. All these months.

I smiled a soft smile at all the moments we have had. I can only dream o the future. Aemond has restored my happiness. I could never thank him enough, I can only hope my love is enough. 

I rested my palm on his soft cheek. No matter what the skin always stays a milky-freckled pale colour. Like I had said he was beautiful. It’s just like seeing him for the first time again.

He smiled and turned his head kissing my palm with his own soft smile. His eye cracked open and stared at me in adoration, which I returned ten fold. I leant forward and kissed his cheek. 

As we sat up the furs around us fell. The wind was harsh causing bumps to rise on my skin. He ran his hand up and down my arm before he leant forward and lied a kiss on my shoulder.

Pressing our foreheads together and revelling in the moment. Kissing softly in the sun’s gleam of stunning glee. He stood first, reaching out and pulling me up. He raised my hands to his mouth and kissed my knuckles sweetly. 

I giggled, “We must go before my father and your mother realise we are gone.” He nodded slowly still properly waking up. I threw on my riding gear and strapped my dagger to my hip. 

“Goodbye my love, till the next moon,” I kissed his temple about to make leave towards Selene, but he caught my wrist. He entangled my fingers with his and smiled a gentle love sick smile.

“Wait I have something for you,” he left me stood on the makeshift bed as he rustled through his satchel frustrated. “I have been meaning to give this to you. I have just been waiting for the right moment.”

He held up a pendent. It was small and gold. The pendent was the of sun. He walked towards me. I pulled my hair over my shoulder allowing him to clasp it around my neck.

I admired the gold, brushing my fingers over it as if it were a glass ornament.  I looked up with my own love sick smile only for it to widen. I watched as his own pendent swayed in the sunlight. A silver moon.

He tucked the pendent under his under shirt as I leant up to kiss him. “Goodbye, my moon” he whispered onto my lips, brushing his nose on mine.

“Goodbye my sun,” I whispered back, gently squeezing the nape of his neck. Walking away to Selene felt odd as I slipped from his grasp, that comforting warmth gone. But I have to go.

So I left and prayed my father won’t question me.

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

• Here’s everyone who wanted to be tagged:

@mischiefmanaged71

@malfoytargaryen

@mischiefmanaged71 @malfoytargaryen

[shesnakes]

𝚃𝙷𝙴𝚁𝙴 𝚆𝙰𝚂 𝚂𝙾𝙼𝙴𝚃𝙷𝙸𝙽𝙶 𝙵𝙴𝚁𝙰𝙻 𝙰𝙱𝙾𝚄𝚃 𝙷𝙴𝚁, 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚊𝚕𝚕 𝚑𝚎𝚛 𝚗𝚎𝚊𝚝 𝚐𝚘𝚠𝚗 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚙𝚛𝚘𝚙𝚎𝚛𝚕𝚢 𝚋𝚛𝚊𝚒𝚍𝚎𝚍 𝚑𝚊𝚒𝚛. 𝚜𝚑𝚎 𝚕𝚘𝚘𝚔𝚎𝚍 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚊 𝚠𝚒𝚕𝚍 𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚗𝚎𝚠 - 𝚌𝚊𝚞𝚐𝚑𝚝 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚓𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚋𝚊𝚛𝚎𝚕𝚢 𝚐𝚛𝚘𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚍 𝚒𝚗𝚝𝚘 𝚜𝚞𝚋𝚖𝚒𝚜𝚜𝚒𝚘𝚗.

FULL  NAME     .     rosemund  tully    PREFERRED NAME     .     ros    NICKNAME(S)  /  ALIAS(ES)  /  TITLE(S)     .      lady of riverrun ( future princess of king's landing ) / saint of the gully, our lady of the hearth, lady stoneheart, the white stag of riverrun, blackwing AGE     .    thirty - two  ( 32 )    GENDER  +  PRONOUNS     .    cis  woman,  she  +  her     ORIENTATION     .    heterosexual     ALLEGIANCE     .    herself & house tully ( eventually targaryens of king's landing )

AESTHETIC .

the  slender  body  of  a  bride  adorned  in  ornate  white - gold,  jewelry  and  dragon’s  teeth  clinking  like  armour.  rattling  like  the  bars  of  the  cage  /  the  stag  that  evades  the  hunt  /  head  bent  in  the  posture  of  fervent  prayer,  offering  a  hood  of  delicate  white  silk  to  the  masses  ─  and  the  sharp  eyes  that  watch  from  beneath  /  the  uncanny  grace  of  a  woman  emerging  from  the  dark  woods,  slim  &  pale as  a  knife  glinting  under  moonlight  /  old lullabies sung as fingers weave through the hair of a child / hands  chucking  absently  under  the  eager  chins  of  a  gaggle  of  hounds,  following  the  trail  of  mud - stained  green  silk  /  the  tip  of  an  arrow  splitting  a  ripe  apple  in  two.

PRESENCE .

VOICE CLAIM . sienna guillory as arya, eragon .

HISTORY .

trigger warnings : serious wounds, infidelity, fertility challenges, implied miscarriage.

there are a great many things said about the conception of lady rosemund tully. like the kernel of sand that grows and calcifies within the salt-dark of the oyster, expanding into something slippery and divine, the truth has expanded and turned milky and opaque with time. what can be said for certain is this: that the late lord tully, his hunting party diverted from known forest, himself and his company himself lost and alone. in his wanderings, he stumbles across a maiden in a glade. she, too, is alone ⸺ but she is not lost. the woman, either knowing the status of the great lord or not, invites him to join her in her small woodland home. in the tales that would come, the tellers never give her a name. these bards and brigands and courtiers instead entitle her BEAUTIFUL, DARK-HAIRED, STRANGE. the coarser skalds use such identifiers as WITCH, and TEMPTRESS. and white it is true that she is beautiful, and, in the language of men, perhaps also true that she is strange, the woman is no more than a local hedge-witch. but such is the dialect for women such as these: those lovely and solid, content in their solitude and the ways of the wood. the lord returns to riverrun as dawn rises the next day, soothing the panic arisen from his disappearance.

some seasons later, a woman with dark hair and dark eyes stands at the foot of riverrun, holding a basket. she is slight of frame but holds herself with the sureness of one much larger, both in stature and status. when brought to the hearth to meet the lord and lady, she folds back a blanket from the basket and produces a sleeping babe. though rumourmongers will have their way with this bit in due time, it is not without love that she does so ⸺ it is instead with an abundance of it. it is a great credit to the lady tully's heart, also, that upon the presenting of the child, she does not turn it loose to the wolves for rage at her lord husband's infidelity. she instead sees her as an answer to long-cried prayers. six long years since the birth of the only son, and only blood and misfortune to show for the yearning attempts to fill the house with more children. she is mine as all others, the lady tully says definitively, the lord's finger already clutched in the small palms of his offspring. as the gods have brought her to my arms.

and so the babe is raised under the tully banner and name from infancy, a daughter as true as any other. only a few seasons past and she's a quiet child, quiet in the sense of chicory and shepherd’s purse and dandelions, crabgrass and thistle and all those weeds who rise upward through cracks in the ground and overgrown gardens with silent but violent delight. quiet but solid, never found to be crying no matter the tumbles she takes.

as she ages and her roots spread outward, ros prove to be a wild thing, not in the way of a wayward child but that of all the things that grow on this land, in this place she loves so consumingly. she race into the fields at midnight to watch how moonlight hits a still lake of switchgrass and strays too close to the howls that come from the edge of the woods, looking for yellow eyes in the dark; it’s curiosity, it's an innate drive as real as an animal's. as real as her mother's, perhaps ⸺ for in all that wildness there is still something defiantly female about her, elegant as a doe in a glade. still, she squabbles with visiting noble sons and leaves their impression in the mud when they pull the hair the braid of her younger sisters; spends time in the kitchen kneading bread with the cooks; watches from the parapets as her brother goes to war, practicing with arrow and gritted teeth lest he come home baring enemies at his back.

in her twenties, while riding through the riverlands with a small retinue, ros and her company are attacked by bandits - later believed to be vassals of another riverlands house in disguise, their dissatisfaction with the tully's elevation to a great house swollen to violence ( WANTED CONNECTION ). in an oft-repeated story, ros encourages her handmaidens to flee, knowing their arm is to draw the blood of a tully. taking the steed of a fallen guard, she leads the pursuants on a chase through the wood before finally being felled : AN ARROW THROUGH THE HEART.

as much as is the story, as much is the report. the shaft passes through the back of the shoulder and out the other, narrowly missing the heart, but causing her to tumble from the horse. she is found in a ravine with by another house of the riverlands passing through & brought back to their castle to recover ( WANTED CONNECTION ). the event and her survival from what should have been a fatal wound earns her the affectionate sobriquet of SAINT OF THE GULLY, a reference to both her miraculous recovery & the ravine into which she had been found. she is similarly known as LADY STONEHEART by the people of the riverlands, a name of particular reverence & affection.

rosemund has always thought little of thrones or ambition; power, to her, has always been in hands strong enough to pull back a bow, to wipe blood from a dying man's brow or aid the villagers in their work. her engagement to the prince is antithetical to her desires : she, who only ever wanted to remain in the woods. moreso, she resents and rages against the danger this union places on her family: ros has no delusions that this struggle between the targaryens will end in bloodshed, and to tie her to one of them risks not only her own life, but more importantly that of her family's. currently she still hopes her brother will find a way to reneg on the engagement, but arrival in king's landing means that rope is on its last thread. though she currently hopes to evade her impending marriage, as a narrative ooc note this will alter as she comes to realize what good can be done from astride a throne.

HEADCANONS .

has very long, thick hair that currently falls a little below the waist. rarely done up in riverrun, she has always preferred keeping it in two thick braids. in king's landing and on constant presentation to the court, she also wears it loose and moderately styled.

called ros by anyone whose ever known her. rosemund is a formality, and rose was reserved exclusively for her late mother.

after the taking in of months-old rosemund, the late lord and lady tully's struggles to conceive seemingly come to an end: only two years later they are blessed with their next girl, and then another. the affectionate talk that surrounds this is that of the gods blessing lady tully for her empathy towards the child sired of another woman.

tends to keep her arrow scar hidden in gowns when possible not for dislike or vanity, but because finds the saint of the gully/lady stoneheart mythos/story too showy for her liking. she has pride for her actions, but not a great deal of interest in discussing it.

her mother's daughter through and through, which caused her much strife throughout her life. 'the dark-eyed lady,' as she's referred to in the riverlands, is a much-discussed and often-maligned bit of gossip, the story of her "seduction" of the lord tully growing increasingly fantastical with each retelling. ros visited her mother in the woods in her lifetime, though in the angst-filled years of teenagehood, both resented her and grew somewhat distant with her family.

comes to king's landing with a small retinue of pets: has a trained falcon named stranger. along with her falcon come two dogs, loyal wolfhounds, named nissa and azor, after the respective legendary figures. she's come to regret the name nissa, in some part, as the story of the wife who allowed a blade to be driven through her chest parallels trivially to the scar she bares over her breast.

exceptional archer, and perhaps an even more formidable equestrian. she had bested all local noble sons by the time she was fifteen, and had her father allowed her to race others, she would have bested them too.

while not the renowned healer her sister is, ros has a calm disposition in the face of violence and an ability to withstand blood and pain. having also learned a great deal from her bio-mother, she's a competent if not talented medic. she aided the war effort frequently, and has worked occasionally as olynna's assistant.

has a surprising domestic side; passable if not good with sewing and needlework, but lacks creative talent. she's best with mending a torn jacket or bending shoe; when she creates something worth remarking over, it's patience and diligence that's to thank. the only time she's created something she felt was genuinely beautiful was a banner made during her recuperation period from the arrow wound.

'blackwing' is a moniker known and spoken by very few. it references an attack made on a group of infantry invading the riverlands by a group made in the dark of night. though small, under the cover of darkness and anonymity they would put a bloody end to their enemies. among them an archer wearing a black cloak. they just stood there dispelling us with arrow, the lone survivor said. in that cloak so black and long. like wings.

( + / - ) clever, courageous, elegant, tactical, disobedient, warm, obstinate, maternal, esoteric, prideful, enigmatic, witty, resolute, graceful, inventive, outspoken, independent. CHARACTER  /  MEDIA  INSPIRATIONS     .  persephone, greek mythology .  lady jessica, dune .   bathsheba everdeen, far from the madding crowd . margaery tyrell, asoiaf . dryads, greek mythology . andromache, greek mythology . elizabeth swann, potc . vasya petrovna, the bear & the nightingale. talisa maegyr, asoiaf . guinevere, arthurian mythology . kayley, quest for camelot. katniss everdeen, the hunger games . snow white, snow white and the huntsman. maid marian, robin hood (2010) .

[the-crow-caws-witch]

Ohana: A Piers/Plumeria Fic

Summary: Piers takes Plumeria to the Wild Area in Galar so she can build up a new team. It's fluff.

Disclaimer: Pokemon doesn't belong to me. Obvi.

Rating: Teen. Romance and swearing.

I'm on AO3 finally! I'll be uploading my fics there under the name tenebris_tenetur :)

Plumeria was breathless, her mouth agape at the sight in front of her- miles upon miles of land outstretched, with various lakes and dunes and forested areas, starting from where Piers had stopped near Hammerlocke, all the way to and beyond the spires of Motostoke.  It was seemingly endless, and filled with various pokemon, many of which she had never seen before.  Even more intriguing were the beams of red light that emitted straight up towards the sky at random.  In all honesty, she was overwhelmed.  His arms snaked around her waist and brought her out of her daze.  She didn't need to look at him to know Piers was smirking.

“Welcome to the Wild Area, luv.” he whispered into her ear, sending chills down her spine.  “Let’s go find ya a partner.”

Plumeria gulped, shutting her eyes tight a moment before following behind her boyfriend. She'd been in Galar a few months now, the winter making its way into spring, but the seasons didn't seem to affect the surrounding landscape much, as one patch was snowing while a few miles ahead there raged a sandstorm, and off to the far left is was the sunniest she'd ever seen.  She allowed Piers to lead her by the hand, looking around while he did so.  

“It's massive.” She breathed out, still stunned.  Piers smiled at her.

“It is, but I'm sure ya can find yaself a helluva team luv.  Though if ya wan’ another salandi-”

“No.” Plumeria cut him off, shaking her head.  “No, I can't do that.  Sal and Golby were too precious. It hurt to lose them Piers, it wouldn't be right to replace them like that.”  Her voice dropped low, and Piers could recall the broken ultra balls from her bedroom in Alola. He nodded solemnly.

“I understand, ‘m sorry.”  He brought her in for a hug, kissing her forehead.  “Yer safe now ‘ere though. An’ ya should have at least one partner pokemon, if nothin’ else than fer my peace of mind.”

Plumeria sighed, giving in.  “You're right.  Where do you recommend we go?”  She studied the map that Sonia had sent her earlier. If she read it correctly they were currently in the Hammerlock Hills.  Piers studied the map over her shoulder, pointing to a few places.

“Well, dependin’ on what yer lookin’ for, we can make our way to Giant’s Cup or Mirror.  I’d recommend stayin’ away from the Dusty Bowl fer now, nasty sandstorm is startin’, an’ it doesn’t look good to camp in either.”  He pointed further north where, sure enough, a storm of sand and rock was raging.  In the end they decided to try out Giant’s Cup first, Piers having informed her that said area was where he came across his Stunky, and maybe she might be able to find one too.  He was also aware of Croagunk hanging around that area as well as some Koffing, all pokemon perfect for Plumeria’s forte of poison types, and most likely a little higher leveled than usual for starters, since they had to compete with Linoons and Glooms in the same area.  

It was about noon time when they had ventured out, Piers packing the camping supplies needed in case they ended staying overnight or two.  They walked around Giant's Cup for about an hour, Plumeria more interested in viewing the scenery than catching any pokemon.  Still Piers couldn't be upset if he wanted to. To him, Plumeria looked adorable wandering around aimlessly, full of curiosity, just taking everything in.  He had warned her at the very least to stay away from the dynamax dens, showing her how to spot one via the beam of energy it emitted from the power of the pokemon within.  

It took a few hours, but they were able to make their way south to the Stony Wilderness, Piers pointing out certain pokemon along the way, and recounting stories from when he trained here for his own gym challenge as a youth.  Plumeria listened intently to everything he said, making mental notes, and sometimes physical ones regarding the pokemon, but nothing really stuck out to her.  Not until they had passed into Bridge Field. 

There, under the covering shade of a large berry tree, was an Eevee, though not one she had seen before. It looked sickly, face contorted in misery and fear, growling at something in the tall grass nearby.  Piers mentioned that it was harder to find unevolved Eevees around Galar, however its evolved forms were more likely to be found in areas that suited it.  Still, there was something about this particular Eevee that made Plumeria reach out for it, much to her boyfriend's caution.

“Luv, it looks distressed. Please, if ya gonna try to catch it at least let Obie or Skuntank help.” He pleaded, handing her a dusk ball from his clip, but she shook her head.

“As much as I appreciate the gesture, your guys are wayyy too strong for this little one.  And it's really little for an Eevee.” She made note of the small frame the pokemon supported.  It had to be the runt of its litter.  “Poor thing.” She muttered to herself as she approached it.  The Eevee, too exhausted to put up any real fight, gave a small, almost pathetic mewl, staring up at her with a forlorn look in its large eyes.  She crouched down beside it, hand out flat so it could sniff her, showing the creature that she meant no harm. 

Piers watched on, intrigued at how she handled wild pokemon.  Whereas most people would battle from a safe distance, whittling the health of the pokemon down for better capture, Plumeria walked straight up to it, like it was a lost pet rather than a wild creature. Even more surprising was the Eevee’s reaction when, after a couple sniffs, it scooted itself over to the young Alolan woman and allowed her to pick it up.  Piers looked at the two, trainer and pokemon, with wide eyes and an open mouth.  Well I’ll be damned. He thought to himself, unable to look away.

“Do you have a potion or something?  I think another pokemon attacked her and- why are you staring like that?”  Plumeria had made her way back to the small trail that Piers had stayed on, Eevee in tow, held in Plumeria’s arms like a newborn babe.  Piers blinked, slowly, staring back and forth between the evolution pokemon and his girlfriend, her face in a confused scowl, before digging into his bag and handing her a potion, which she immediately administered to her newfound pal.  Now that he was able to get a closer look at the pocket monster, Piers was shocked even more.  This absolutely was not a normal Eevee by any means.

Plumeria’s scowl stayed while she applied the potion to the pokemon, not understanding why its fur stayed so dull even though it had clearly regained health.  She turned to Piers worried,  noting his own expression, and started to panic more.  “Babe, she’s not getting better, it still looks sick, what do we do?  She’s not poisoned, or paralyzed, and it’s so young and small.”  Her voice cracked as she became more and more upset.  Finally Piers knocked himself out of his stupor and very carefully reached out to Plumeria, rubbing her arm in an attempt to comfort her.

“Yeah, see ‘ere’s the thing Plu, that’s not your standard Eevee.  An’ the potion worked jus’ fine, so it’s all better now.”  He tried to explain.  Eevee stayed in the girl’s arms, rubbing against her and squealing happily.  

“But her color-” Plumeria tried to interject, her sentence cut off by a surprised gasp instead when the Eevee decided to climb up onto her shoulder and then head.  Piers couldn’t help but laugh.

“Well I’ll be damned.” He chortled, holding out his own hand for the creature to sniff.  It did so hesitantly, giving his finger a small lick of approval before turning it’s attention back to Plu, who was desperately trying to get it off her head.  “Ya didn’ even have to catch the thing and it’s already yers luv.  An’ as far as the color, it’s fine an’ healthy.  This is wut we call a shiny pokemon.”

Now it was Plumeria’s turn to blink.  “Shiny?” she asked in disbelief.  Piers simply nodded, grabbing the Eevee from atop her head, much to its protest, before handing it back to her to hold.  A newfound love spread throughout him as he watched her coo the restless pokemon, a more maternal instinct of hers kicking in.

“I love you.”  he blurted out, warmed by the entire interaction, grinning at how the phrase still made her blush.

“And I love you.” she replied, kissing his cheek quickly.  “Now, what the hell is a shiny?”  Eevee fixed it’s attention to the string on Plumeria’s hoodie, swatting it playfully.  

Piers pointed to the pokemon in hand.  “That is.  A shiny is basically an alternate coloration of a pokemon.  They’re rare though, like ridiculously rare.  Even more rare still since ya called it a ‘she’, yeah?” Plumeria nodded.

“Mmhmm, she’s missing some important parts for her to be otherwise.”  She deadpanned, reaching into her boyfriend’s pocket and pulling out an empty pokeball.  Piers snorted.

“Oh, so now ya gonna try an’ catch it?” He joked, raising a brow when Plumeria shook her head.

“No, I’m going to ask her if she wants to be caught.” She stuck her tongue out at him, unaware of his smirk and his quick reflex to capture her lips, tongue and all, in his and pulled away before she could even register what had happened.  Meanwhile, Eevee’s attention went from the hoodie strings to the unused pokeball, attacking it gleefully in play.  “What do ya say sweet girl?”  Plumeria cooed once again, returning her attention back to Eevee.  “Wanna join our happy family?”  Beside her Piers blushed a deep shade of red and played with his choker.  

The Eevee gave a shrill and excited cry, pressing the button on the pokemon, and disappearing into it.  Plumeria smiled, adding the ball to the belt that Piers had made for her.  When she looked back at him he was still red in the cheeks.  She raised a brow.  He caught her looking and gave a weak cough.  “So, uh, happy family, eh luv?” he managed to sputter out.  Plumeria giggled.

“Well obviously, stupid.” she teased, snuggling into him.  He nudged her playfully, both of them laughing.  “C’mon, this place is huge, and we’ve only just started.  You said there’s Koffings around right?”  She looked at him with a sparkle in her eyes, lighting up his own as he nodded.  “Does that mean when it evolves I’ll have those dapper looking Weezings?!” she asked, putting an accent on the word dapper.  Piers belted out a loud snorting laugh, following Plumeria as she ran more south to the Motostoke border.

It ended up taking the whole day, and a little into the night as well, before Plumeria had ‘caught’ herself another five pokemon.  Of course caught wouldn’t be the word Piers used for it, as every pokemon added was only done so by mutual agreement.  He found quickly that she was reluctant to use any type of force on new pokemon, instead gently going up to ones who eyed her and made their way back, some cautious, some with a plan to attack, and some without a care in the world.    With each ‘mon Plumeria was able to talk them into letting her interact peacefully, most getting pets and treats, and already starting a strong bond with their new trainer.  It blew his mind.  “‘Ow do ya manage to do that?” He had asked her over dinner, enjoying the sweet and spicy curry with all their pokemon.  Plumeria shrugged, serving another dish to both Obie and her new Koffing, aptly named Mister.  

“It's kinda just the Alolan way.  We’re never really taught to actively pursue a pokemon companion, but rather instead it should be a partnership from the very beginning.”  The toxic gas pokemon gave an appreciative cry, seating itself between Uhane, her new Gastly, and Piers’ Scrafty.  She gave a warm smile at the campsite, watching how easily all her new pokemon were with each other, and with Piers and his pokemon.  Piers noticed too.  

“I guess we really are a ‘appy family.”  He mused, taking another bite.  Their eyes caught the others in a stare, both turning away with a blush.  “‘M glad ya found some great partners for ya luv.”  He started after a few more bites, wrapping an arm around her when she sat next to him.  

Plumeria gave a sigh of contentment, leaning her head into his shoulder and holding his free hand in hers.  “They are great partners aren’t they?” she smiled.  “But you’re the best one by far.” She whispered to him, giving his hand a light squeeze.  Piers squeezed back, before engulfing her in a tight hug causing her to nearly drop her bowl. 

“‘M so glad I met ya Plu.  I really am.” he confessed, kissing her.  

Plumeria held him back.  “I’m glad we met too.”  They finished eating, staying up late into the night, watching their pokemon play, before cleaning up the campsite and retiring to bed themselves.