#she is so full of rage and also sand

[cynical-canidae]

I saw this pin and had to redraw.

[daisyjonesgf]

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

[lunajay33]

The Teller Girl Part.9

•❤️⛓️💸🌹•

Summary: Being Jax Tellers sister made for a crazy life, being Gemma’s and Clays daughter made it even crazy, but being surrounded by bikers made you feel safe but what’ll happen when you can’t deny your feelings for a certain Scotsman anymore?

Pairing: Chibs Telford x f!reader

Content: Age Gap, bit of angst, smut, violence

Part.8

•Masterlist•

With the help of Chibs and the club I was slowly able to heal from the loss of my baby, Chibs even gave me a photo of him as a baby as a way to put a face to my baby boy, a way to heal, it’s been a few months since all that shit went down, things had settled with the club and other gang stuff, bringing the club back to what it was

Today is Harley’s birthday and the words Chibs said to me before rang in my mind everyday, we still had her, she still needed her mother and I’ll be damn if I don’t give her everything she needs

I’ve got everything done, Teal and purple cupcakes, balloons and decor, sure it was probably over the top for just a one year old birthday party but she’s my little girl and every year I have with her will be celebrated

Everything is set up in the back yard now I’m just waiting for everyone to come, the crew, just keeping it small not wanting to take the attention away from my Harley

The rumble of motorcycles pull up to the front of the house and I could hear their loud chatter already, I hold Harley on my hip, adjusting her little dress that was also purple and teal matching everything, with a little flower clip in her hair

“Here they rowdy boys come baby” she giggles looking up at me with those brown eyes

The back gate swings open and they filter in, Bobby, tigs, happy, Opie and Lyla, juice, Gemma, Jax and Tara and Abel, and of course Chibs

Harley spots him and squeals

“Daddy!” She babbles and Chibs comes and swings her around then holding her close as she plays with his goatee

“Look at ye lil lassy, pretty in yer wee dress just like yer mommy” he says looking back at me pulling me into a kiss

“She missed you today” I say running my hand through his hair, his cologne and smell of cigarettes grounding me

“Aye and what about ye?” He smirks as he squeezes my hip

“You know I always do”

“Oh come on did we come here for a Harley or to watch you guys fall in love again” Jax groans making me blush realizing everyone was watching us

“Right everyone, drinks and food are on the table over there, I’ll get the fire started and let’s have fun” the guys got settled and everyone was having fun, we opened gifts, Bobby got her a dress with an American flag on it, typical, other gifts from the others bike related that came in baby form

We thanked everyone and most settled around the fire, Chibs and I sitting at the picnic bench, Tara and Jax on the other as Abel and Harley play in the sand box

“Haven’t seen you in a while Tara how’ve you been?” I ask trying to be nice for Jax even if I don’t really like her

“Fine, we found of the baby is a boy” I felt a squeeze on my heart and I try not to let it bother me

“Tara…” Jax groans

“What it’s not my fault she lost the baby” she sighs glaring at Jax and that’s when all the pain floods back

“Ye get yer gash outta here before I do Jackie boy and it won’t be pretty” Chibs voice full of rage, Jax grabs her arm and pushes her out the gate, I look down at my belly where it should be full and round by now

“Shite baby” his hand rubs my back

“No its….its fine I’m not gonna let her break all the healing I’ve done” he kisses my temple and pulls me close

“He’s still with us baby girl” I nod holding his thigh

“I’m fine my love, how about you get me a cupcake so I can eat my feelings” he smiles

“Ye got it darlin” I kept eating until there was 3 wrappers in front of me my face probably full of purple and teal mouth full of chocolate cake

“Why do you stay with me” I say looking at Chibs who looked completely amused as he wiped the icing of my face and sucked it off his thumb

“Because yer mine”

•

Life went on day by day, Chibs at my side reassuring me everyday that I was his reason to wake up everyday, that me and Harley were the light of his life

Over time I felt whole again knowing I’ll always have the club at my side, that Harley will grow up with a group of men that’ll kill for her, that’ll protect her no matter what, that she has a father that adores her, that I have a ol man that worships the ground I walk on

Chibs got a divorce from Fiona and proposed to me on Harley’s second birthday, we had a simple wedding where Harley was our flower girl and Abel our ring bearer

And there is no other life I’d want to be living without him by my side always and forever

•

Kinda a crappy ending but I ran out of ideas, if you have any other chibs request my inbox is open!!

I just started a Happy series you can read here! The Lion & Lamb

Taglist: @vixennox1864 @word-scribbless @uknowmesstuff @transparentbouquetturtle @ilikebandzzs @tommyflanaganfan-blog @youngadult9016 @prettylittlepsycho03 @staley83 @buckysteveloki-me @bonnyclydecat @itsmytimetoodream @stories4you04-x

[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.

[justhowitgoesblog]

The Weight of Goodbyes - Part 1

Emmett Cullen x Reader 

< - Part 0

Song : I hate it here by Taylor Swift 

(a/n: after hearing this song for the first time, i literally got kicked with inspiration for this fic)

Summary: (a/n: Sorry, I’m terrible with summaries🥺)  At La Push Beach, the reader wrestles with the grief of Emmett and the Cullen’s leaving, while Bella's own grief mirrors their own. Standing amidst the crashing waves, they grapple with memories of love lost and the weight of unspoken questions—Did they deserve better? Jacob, ever loyal little cutie approaches, offering  comfort, but the reader is hesitant to accept. As the storm rages both outside and within, the struggle to find peace is palpable.

Warnings: Angst. Heartbreak. Self-doubt. References to Depression. Heartbreak.

Rating: General Audience

“Quick, quick tell me something awful like you are a poet trapped inside the body of a finance guy”

Each step through the wet sand felt like punishment.

But perhaps, that was fitting? You thought.

The cold, wet sand clung to your skin, heavy and unwelcome—just like memories. The beach of La Push was the only place that wasn’t tainted with memories of him.

The mind was an awful thing. Full of tricks. Full of reminders. Nostalgia—the worst of them all—a self-deprecating enemy, leading you down dark roads to escape the truth: you’ve been left behind in the waves of the forgotten and unwanted. Standing on the shore of the omitted, you watch as the waves crash against the shoreline of La Push.

Smash. Smash. Smash.

The cold spray stings your skin, but you barely notice. The pain is familiar. The constriction of your throat, the weight of knowing you and he were just a grain of sand in this place. A sea of people. Millions of years. Sextillions of grains of sand. But somehow, you both met. And for once, amid juggling an avalanche of textbooks, deadlines, and the ever-present hum of who’s dating who and who’s popular this week, the world felt still. At peace. Because you had him. And you loved him. Only for him to leave so unceremoniously…

“I hate it here so I will go to secret gardens in my mind, People need a key to get to, The only one is mine”

You exhale sharply, the words lingering in your head like an echo, unwanted but persistent. The wind swallows the sound of your breath, but the truth of it clings to you just like the dampness in the air.

“Grief,” you mutter to yourself, tasting the bitter word on your tongue. “Is also a crippling thing.”

You thought of Bella Swan, standing a little ways from you, staring absentmindedly into the crashing waves. She was absorbed in her own mental strife, much like you, but in a different way—lost, maybe even more so. You thought of finding her months ago, sitting in her chair, tucked away in the darkness of her bedroom, staring out her window in a comatose state, drowning in her own grief.

“I read about it in a book when I was a precocious child, No mid-sized city hopes and small town fears, I'm there most of the year, Cause I hate it here, I hate it here”

"You see," Charlie’s pained voice flooded your mind. "You’re my only hope."

Charlie’s only hope—the phrase stung now, reminding you that no one had ever called you anyone’s hope.

Bella sat, hidden away in her darkness, trapped in grief so much deeper than your own. Could she not see? Could she not understand? You had moved forward, or at least you had to—but her grief, it was a prison of its own. A coma.

“This place made me feel worthless, Lucid dreams like electricity, the current flies through me”

And for a fleeting moment, you wondered: Did she deserve this? Did she deserve to linger, locked in agony, while you fought to escape yours? To escape him? To escape the memories? Why couldn’t she just... move on? Why couldn’t she claw her way out?

You swallowed hard, the lump in your throat reminding you that, perhaps, it was you who was running. Running from him. Running from the past.

But maybe Bella’s love for Edward was stronger than yours for him.

Jacob was with her now. You’d recruited him, hoping he could cheer her up, give her some reason to smile again. And to your surprise, he had. In a matter of minutes, he had managed to pull a small, but noticeable smile from her—something that felt like a victory, if only for a second.

Lost in thought, you barely noticed Jacob’s approach until you heard his voice, warm and familiar, cut through the air.

"Y/N."

You don’t turn to him, keeping your gaze fixed on the crashing waves, trying to drown out the noise inside your head.

"Jacob."

Your voice is colder than you intend, though you’re sure he doesn’t mind. You don’t bother turning to him. Not yet.

You feel him shuffle closer, his presence palpable even from a distance. The heat of him radiates toward you, filling the space between the two of you. His warmth contrasts with the chill in your bones, but you don’t let yourself indulge in it.

Breaking the silence between you, you mutter, “Still chasing after Bella now that Eddy is out of the picture?”

You feel Jacob stiffen next to you, the heat that he radiates faltering for just a moment as your words hit the air. The words sting, but he doesn’t show it—not fully. Instead, he lets out a long, controlled breath, trying to mask the hurt he feels, though it’s evident in the tension of his jaw.

“I’m not chasing anyone,” he says, moving next to you. You feel his stare, but still, you keep your eyes locked on the stormy seas in front of you. “Just trying to make sure she’s okay.”

Silence takes over the two of you.

“How are you?” he asks, breaking the quiet.

You smile, despite the frown that has become a permanent accessory of yours lately.

“What a stupid question,” you chuckle with light warmth.

Jacob watches you with a quiet intensity. “I gotta ask. I’m worried about you too, Y/N.”

Your gaze drifts briefly to him, the faintest crack in your otherwise stoic expression. “Guess I’m fine,” you say, but the word feels wrong in your mouth—too thin, too weak for everything you’ve been carrying. You’re anything but fine. But you don’t have to say that. Not to him.

The wind picks up, rustling your hair, as he steps closer—his presence a quiet weight beside you.

"Yeah? You sure?" His voice softens like he’s not ready to push, but he’s waiting.

Waiting for you to say it.

“What do you think?” you finally confess, as waves crash loudly before the two of you.

Smash.

“I'm lonely but I'm good, I'm bitter but I swear I'm fine, I'll save all my romanticism for my inner life and I'll get lost on, Purpose”

“It’s funny, ya know,” you pause, letting the words come to you, as your memories of him return, like a haunting dream. “To let someone in and let them become so important to you, only for them to decide to leave and say, 'You’ll thank me one day. You deserve better. A human life that I can't give you.'”

“You do,” Jacob immediately replies, his voice firm, wanting to validate your pain.

Scoffing, you finally turn to him, your eyes bloodshot as you desperately try to fend off the tears threatening to fall.

“What do I deserve? I deserved him, and now he’s gone. And now, I'm forced to move on. When all I wanted was him.”

Jacob is quiet. His reply takes time as he adjusts his choice of wording. His next words are careful, almost soft, but trying to be the strength you’re looking for without pity. "What do you deserve? I don’t know... but, I know you don’t deserve that."

“I deserved a choice…”

“No mid-sized city hopes and small town fears, I'm there most of the year, Cause I hate it here.

I hate it here…”

[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.

[macawthestarwing]

This is very specifically for @floppydiskz Flopp this is a continuation of the conversation ur welcome:

So if you didn’t see my post for Microphone’s design, My AU has this thing called Dracanthropy. It’s basically Lycanthropy but dragons instead of wolves. There are two types of dracothropes:

Lunar Dracothropes

A stereotypical werewolf situation cranked to a high. Every time they fall asleep at night, they go into their dragon form. If it’s a full moon (doesn’t have to be just one if it’s in Savior there can be two full moons), they go into a hybrid of normal and the dragon form which is basically them with wings and a tail, sharp teeth, and whatever abilities the dragon form has. If the dracothrope is skilled enough, they can go into any form whenever they want.

Pathos Dracothropes

Basically instead of the day-night cycle controlling the form, it’s the dracothrope’s emotions. If they feel scared or angry or anxious, they’ll go into either dragon form or hybrid form depending on how intense the feeling is (hybrid means the feeling is extremely intense). Like Lunar Dracothropes, they can control it if they’re skilled enough, but it will go rogue a bit. This type of Dracanthropy is extremely rare.

In the II X IOSAU, there are four Dracothropes. The objects in order of first to most recent bitten is:

Microphone: bit by Adam (a Dracothrope who works for the Starwings) and is a Siren/Night. She has the mind-reading teardrop and very strong hivemind song. Bitten because Adam thought the mind reading would drive her insane or she would go power-crazy with her hivemind song. He was wrong.

Nickel: also bit by Adam since he used him as a threat to hurt all of Mic’s friends (she then proceeded to beat him up). Nickel is an Ice/Night in his dragon form, with frostbreath and foresight. He kept his Dracanthropy secret for a long time because he kept having a reoccurring vision of him biting Balloon. He’s outed eventually and the vision does come true, but he’s comfortable openly speaking about his visions with others afterwards.

Balloon: Balloon is one of the rare Pathos Dracothropes. His constant panic of being a Dracothrope causes a lot of chaos (specifically him not being allowed to be in the hotel if he feels nervous so he doesn’t destroy it) he can control it pretty well but it still gets out of control occasionally.

Trophy: this one is kinda funny. Trophy wasn’t exactly listening when they were explaining everything that had happened to the objects that weren’t there when Taco was temporarily back at the II universe. Trophy was bullying Balloon when out of pure instinct and anxiety-induced rage he went dragon on him and bit his arm. Trophy didn’t even believe Nickel, Mic, and Balloon when they tried to explain it to him until he woke up with wings and a tail and was surprisingly about as tall as the trees in the forest! His dragon form is a Sky/Mud with fireproof scales.

In BFDI X IOSAU, there are two Dracothropes:

Pencil: Also bit by Adam as a way for One to psychologically torture her, her dragon form is a Sand\Ice with frostbreath. She does get a bit psychologically tortured, but she gets used to it eventually.

Needle: bit by Pencil accidentally when Needle falls and Pencil accidentally grabs her with her teeth out of instinct. She’s less skilled than Pencil and can’t control it often, but once in a blue moon she can control it. Her dragon form is a Night/Silk with normal silk and fire (oh god imagine calling her Needy while she’s in dragon form oh you’re just dead).

[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

[darcymariaphoster]

So I've kinda wanted to expand on this universe a bit, but have been struggling to do so because it's mostly just written on pure vibe that I'm having a hard time matching. This one isn't really long enough for me to consider an actual accompaniment, more like a tangent. 😅 I'm kinda looking at this more as a character study, though I'd like to go more in depth on Turkey, tbh.

A tiny bit of lore here, both in case you don't read the parent fic and also because I never explicitly say this in either: Earth, Sky, Sun, and Moon are the only originals. Every other personification has cycled -- "dying" and being "reborn" with a new personification. Through this, only these four have stayed the same. Which means they have full memory of when they woke up as personifications to their present moment, while the season personifications do not really remember waking up. I haven't decided if they remember before they became personifications but I guess that's not entirely important to this.

Anyway, this has been sorta stuck in my head for a few days, so it's nice to finally have a little tidbit out for y'all. Hope you enjoy!

Where the Earth Meets the Sky

How often the cliffs felt too small, too low. From a distance, they looked to be a pathway straight into the stars. How often the mountains seemed to shrink when faced with being the staircase to Sky himself.

For the first few Sun cycles, Gupta was gripped with a hollow loneliness, wandering endlessly through the seasons' lands. From the moment he'd woken, resting in the sand dunes between Kesän maa and Høstens land, all he'd known was that he needed to reach Sky. It was an almost painful ache within him. He knew, somehow, that Sky was another real and tangible being, one that needed him just as much. Which just made Gupta wonder: Why couldn't they find each other?

While he longed to fill that hollowness within him, he found that there was no urgent push to resolve it. So he took his time exploring. He paused often in quiet spaces, buried his feet in the sand, dirt, or even moss, and felt the thrum of the earth's heartbeat through his very being. In Vinterland, Gupta would hide in the trees, resting his hands against the trunks to feel them whispering to each other. There's always a vibration, and he always finds it. He's part of it.

Gupta met all of the original personifications of the seasons, walked with them through their lands -- while everything was still at peace. He could feel the joy and pride of each of the personifications as they spoke to him, showing off their homes to Earth himself. Each season felt different beneath his feet. Kesän maa was always loudest; the hum almost tangible in the air itself. Vinterland was more subdued; it reminded him of a kitten, purring gently as it slept.

The first time he met the Ocean, he knew he was closest to Sky. The waves tossed and turned with Ocean's passionate feelings, which churned rapidly between joy and anger. The Ocean was lonely, and Gupta could relate to that. He spent extra time with her, and he introduced her to the shape-shifting personification of the Animals. They were both flitty and fickle, and their friendship was ever evolving. Gupta enjoyed watching it.

It was around sunset one day, and he was sitting on a cliff, watching the Ocean walk along her shores as she hummed a rather haunting tune. Above that, he heard footsteps behind him, and something in his chest ignited. He didn't have to turn around to know that Sky was there. For the first time, there was something urgent and raging within him, demanding that he get to his feet and face this other being. Still, he was slow and deliberate as he finally did move, pausing upon turning around so that he could study Sky.

Sky's frame was tall and strong, shoulders that were once thrown back with unbridled pride were now slightly more drooped with an invisible weight resting upon them. His green eyes practically sparkled, alight with playfulness and broodiness that were battling for dominance within. And, most noticeably, his wide grin as he looked Gupta over, something in his overall expression screaming finally. He backed away from the cliff's edge, silently beckoning for Gupta to follow. He had no reason not to, and so he did. He took his hands, pulling him away from the water and towards the trees.

They were bordering Forårets land, the leaves pale and new, colors soft and sporadic around them. Gupta enjoys all the seasons, but spring is his favorite -- light, and often unpredictable, filled with a bright newness in the air that offers hope. It was exactly what he needed in that moment, as he and Sky chased each other through the trees, their cat and mouse movement almost a dance. As they paused, one hand on each other's chest, Gupta muttered, "I know you."

"And I you." Sky's voice was deep and and mimicked the tones of distant thunder. It reverberated through his chest, and Gupta could feel a new vibration as he rested his hand there in a bit of wonder. So used to the sensations of his own domain, he was fascinated by the new ones of this being in front of him.

In that moment, Sadik didn't feel that hollowness that he'd slowly become accustomed to. All the time he'd spent wandering, searching for Earth in every personification, in every season -- and he'd finally found him, the companion he knew he was going to spend the rest of eternity with.

And eternity it was.

It was not always filled with joy and peaceful moments. There were times in which they tore chasms into the ground in their angry attempts to stay away from each other. There was a long period of sadness when the Sun and Moon lost their cycle and found that they were chasing each other instead of dancing together. They watched personifications of the seasons come and go. Sadik was no comfort when the lands became starkly divided instead of blurred together, and the Seasons began to fight amongst themselves. And there were plenty of times in which Gupta felt that Sky was too distant and out of reach.

They fell in and out of balance, in and out of passion. But stayed intertwined for all of time.

~~

"Do you love the Ocean?" Sadik asks, crouching down behind Gupta and kissing the back of his neck.

Gupta tips his head to one side invitingly, watching the boy on the shores shuffle through the sand, the tide slowly rising with each push and pull. "It's different," Gupta tells him with a smile as Sadik rests his chin on his shoulder. "Ocean is more like a child, especially this one. He's so sad."

Sadik hums as the boy pauses and stares out at the waters, which seem to react to him and begin churning violently. The boy reminds him a bit of Autumn, in his expressions and moodiness. He's often wondered if they were related before they became personifications. "He seems angry," he comments after a moment.

"Aren't anger and sadness one in the same?" Gupta replies airily, but they both know that he's felt both often enough to understand. They're both quiet for a while, watching Ocean throw a fit of frustration.

Sadik knows Gupta comes here for Ocean, to relieve some of his loneliness. He has the Moon and Sun to deal with, and they keep him plenty busy as it is. In a way, he understands the sentiment of looking after a personification as if they were a child. He often feels that way about the Seasons, as well. He slowly moves to sit beside Earth, leaning back on his hands as he watches the sun set, blazing oranges and reds across the waters' expanse. Quietly, Sky suggests, "There may come a day yet when none of them will feel those things anymore, just joy."

Earth only sighs in response, and it sounds a bit sad.

[dustedmagazine]

Brigid Mae Power — Songs for You (BMP)

Brigid Mae Power opens her eight-song covers album with a lush and velvety take on the Roy Orbison song, “In Dreams,” a paragon of early 1960s crooner pop whose string-swelling, 12/8-whirling romantic sweep might easily have curdled into cliché, but didn’t, because of that chilling, mesmerizing voice. The song got a second wind with the 1986 film Blue Velvet, where it became the centerpiece of Dean Stockwell’s lurid, unforgettable cameo. He lip-synced rather than sang, so the song retains Orbison’s suave mid-century assurance, but it also lets the bottom drop out, finding the eerie surreality in this top-ten Billboard hit.

Power, too, has a spellbinding voice, described in Dusted two years ago like this: “Brigid Mae Power sings like a phosphorescent flame, her tones flickering, swelling and subsiding, slipping effortlessly over shifting notes and stretching single syllables over fluttering melodic phrases.” For this take, she sands off the blues-folky slides and bends, singing the notes straight and true and with a little blur around the edges, so that she sounds like the voice in a dream. There are other covers in this compilation that make more sense on the surface, the folk-picked musings of Bert Jansch’s “Fresh as a Sweet Sunday Morning,” the Celtic lament of Christy Moore’s “Missing You,” the electric keyboard country psychedelia of Neil Young’s “Mellow My Mind,” but this one showcases Power’s translucent tonal purity. When she sings, everything else fades into the background, which was also true of Roy Orbison.

One other song on Songs for You consistently stops me cold, another stretch in terms of Powers’ catalogue and set of influences. That’s her take on the Television classic “I See No Evil,” the first track from their landmark Marquee Moon. In its original, the song ruptures rhythmic, straight-up riffs with whirling, swirling cartwheels of guitar sound. Verlaine’s nervy vocals vibrate and wander, carving a serpentine path through ever ratcheting sonics. It’s full of rock energy, but complicated, raging and doubling back on itself. Powers’ version is spectral, haunted, the barest sketch of guitar strumming running under her superlatively fluid voice. “I understand all destructive urges, it seems so perfect,” she sings, like a disembodied angel, her voice doubled in fluttery overdub.  It’s gorgeous and unsettling and cuts right to the bone.

The music on this album is subtle and underplayed, which has been the calling card of Shazhad Ismaily (he plays bass throughout and electric guitar on the Ray Charles cut “You Don’t Know Me”). Ryan Jewell keeps his drumming well in the pocket, too, so that the spotlight falls on Power herself, finding fresh meaning and emotional resonance in an eclectic grab bag of old songs.

Jennifer Kelly

[shads-shipposts]

The chaos continues, and everyone has mad questions. 

Also, sorry for this Debbie downer of an update, but I want to let y'all know. This (ch 8&9) will be the last upload until March, I need a bit of time to process some grief. Today, we had to put my cat to sleep after the cancer just became too much for him. He was our neighbor's cat, but started hanging around us more so we just adopted him in 2010. He was at least 17, maybe 18, so he lived a good, long life. I'm heartbroken, I've had him since 2008, but also relieved because he's not hurting anymore.

Anyway, sorry for the downer of an author's note. I'll see yall in March ❤️

I'll add the links later, I don't have it in me rn but you can find the masterlist pinned on my profile <3

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Allan expected a bit of resistance, but breaking a window with a chair and jumping out it was not on his mind.

Smart, though, as she targeted the one window that didn't have any boards on the exterior. She also set it up so subtly, even Allan didn't notice her plan until it was too late.

Clever. Very clever.

He couldn't wipe the smirk from his face as he watched Shadow dart off into the woods, having full confidence now that she would not try to actually run away.

Full confidence that he needn't worry about losing the lead to Scarlett, because even if he lost sight of her she'd turn up again.

The kid was drawn to Allan and his men like a moth the flame, he realized now, and already Allan found himself thinking about how he could use her to further his own goals. Her fighting spirit, physical prowess, sharp mind, potential loyalty, and of course, the secrets she knew about not only the Unicorn but also Scarlett.

Her lack of self-preservation could be cause for concern, admittedly, but he'd iron that out later.

An inkling of guilt nagged at him for dragging Shadow into the life of crime, but he pushed it away.

It wasn't like he forced Shadow to come to the docks, to come here. Besides, once she spilled what she knew of the Unicorn and Scarlett, Allan could send her on her way. He already had proof she'd keep quiet and wouldn't squeal to the police, so he could convince Sakharine to let her go.

This was not forever.

It wasn't too late for her.

She could still escape the tar Allan struggled so hard to free himself from.

"That foolish, obstinate, deceitful woman!" Sakharine hissed at Allan's side.

Possibly.

Aw, is someone cranky he's finally met his match? You better be lucky this isn't Scarlett.

Though, Allan supposed Shadow's methods of escape did not differ too much from Scarlett's. He still recalled the stinging in his eyes after her "pocket sand" stunt, and still recalled the burning anger that flooded his body.

If he knew then what he knew now, knew the power just beneath the surface, that rage would have been relief she hadn't done far worse to escape.

"You!" Sakharine whirled to face him. "Bring her back to me. Use whatever force you deem fit, but that wench is not to leave the property."

Wench? This is the 20th Century, old man.

"What was that earlier?" Allan couldn't help but ask. "Something about her not knowin' what she was gettin' into?"

"Do not patronize me, Thompson."

Wouldn't dream of it.

"All I'm sayin', boss, is careful makin' 'er an enemy. We have no idea what kind of dirt she has on us-"

Sakharine scoffed, cutting him off with a raised hand. "She made an enemy of me. She wants to be difficult? Wants to masquerade as a boy? Let her face the consequences." He turned back to the window, glaring into the woods and missing the look of disgust Harry threw at his back.

Allan subtly shook his head when Harry's eyes came to him, warning him not to let his temper get the best of him here.

Shadow had the luck of being important to Sakharine, even if it was brief. She had information he wanted, and thus wouldn't be killed yet. Harry had no such protection, and while Allan would side with his crew over this new boss he still had no desire to find himself in that situation.

"Treat her as you would a common street thug who decided to meddle," Sakharine continued, his back still to Allan and Harry. "I don't care if you have to break her legs and drag her back kicking and screaming. Bring. Her. Back."

I'll bring her back, sure, but breaking her legs? No dice. Hiding some minor emotional trauma from the cops is one thing. You can recover from a little scare in a few hours, days at the most. But legs? I highly doubt she'd let that slide.

Allan was no fool. Any understanding and mutual respect between him and Shadow would crumble instantly if he injured her that badly. Bad for business, making enemies when you didn't need to.

And Allan had no desire to lose a verbal sparring partner.

Her stubbornness and inability to take anything seriously annoyed him at times, sure. But when was the last time someone dared to insult him to his face? By calling him an industrial refrigerator no less.

Being surrounded by yes men too afraid to stand up to you got boring; he enjoyed finally having someone who could match his sarcasm and wit.

My skills were getting rusty.

Not to mention he had to always wonder if his men were telling him the truth, or just telling him what he wanted to hear. Some he knew he could trust, those in his inner circle.

Tom. Pedro. Harry. Ollie. Vinny.

They didn't fear him, nor did he fear them, and thus an element of deep trust ran between them like lifeblood.

But the rest of the crew he always viewed with a degree of suspicion. He scared men, he knew.

For whatever reason... he didn't scare Shadow.

Allan just nodded in partial agreement to another series of threats from Sakharine, grabbing Harry and pulling him out with him.

"That kid is psycho!" Harry exclaimed in the hall. "Does she have any idea what sort of man she's pokin' with a stick? We're one thing, he's another."

I knew you were all bark with the kid.

Harry acted all mean and tough, but Allan knew he held a soft spot for kids and teens. Allan didn't know Shadow's exact age, but it couldn't have been much older than Nick.

"You need to tell 'er to stop antagonizin' the boss," Harry continued. "Before she gets herself hurt or worse."

"Don't tell me you're gettin' soft, Harry," Allan said, but slipped a chuckle in to let the man know he was teasing.

Harry stiffened, looking more offended than worried. "Fuck no. Just..." He shook his head, brows furrowed. "Don't want 'er to find out the hard way what violent fantasies that sick bastard has."

"I think the kid can handle herself just fine around him. He's underestimated her before, and that was just her wits," Allan assured him. "Underestimating her before a physical attack could prove fatal."

"Think she's got the stomach for it?"

Depends on how desperate she gets.

"Everyone's a killer if you push 'em far enough," Allan replied honestly. "Everyone has something to flip that switch. Shadow's bound to have something as well."

I want to find out, but not the hard way.

He made that mistake with Scarlett.

Harry remained silent until they reached the bottom of the main steps. "The name. Shadow. It's... really similar to Scarlett's alias."

Guess I'm not the only one rememberin' her lately.

"It was Scarlett's alias."

Harry looked at him. "Think the kid has a connection?"

"I'll eat my hat if she doesn't."

A sudden yelp from the other side of the manor caught both of their attention.

"What in the big brother?!"

Harry sent a dumbfounded look Allan's way, the first mate just shaking his head in amusement.

At least having her around won't be a bore like Sakharine.

"That kid is somethin' else," he muttered. "Go help Neil and Tom. And keep that knife away will ya? Don't need 'er turnin' on us."

"Copy that, boss."

As Harry ran the direction of the shout, Allan turned and headed the opposite way.

Want a chase, kid? Want to play cat and mouse?

Let's see if you have what it takes.

Why are you running!? Why are you running!?

I couldn't help but play that vine over and over in my head as I raced around the manor grounds with Neil and Tom in hot pursuit.

Had to hand it to the pair, they were a lot faster than my initial assessment of them predicted. I expected to be faster, as while Tom had longer legs than me he still had quite a few pounds on me.Stockier men usually didn't have the same speed as leaner men. Neil's torso looked longer than his legs, but he didn't trail too far behind Tom.

I still remained ahead, however.

But, even though I was faster, they showed no signs of getting tired. I should have known they would have better stamina than me, what with working day in and day out on a cargo ship in the 1940s.

Back before a lot of stuff became automated.

Hell, I didn't even think computers were a thing during Tintin's time.

How the hell am I gonna explain my phone?

Like Trevor, it was phasing in and out of existence. Sometimes I could feel it in my pocket, sometimes I couldn't.

That was just proof this was all a crazy dream, right?

Objects in reality didn't just phase in and out. That was some Skyrim glitch material, not Tintin movie material. The movie, fantastical as it was, still had basis in solid reality.

If I was really trapped in the movie, which I definitely wasn't, then all this slap-stick survival and all these glitchy happenings wouldn't be a thing.

We got bigger fish to fry than justifying dream nonsense.

Such as the lack of a long term plan for the outcome of this chase.

They were following me, great, but now what? Unless I had infinite sprint, which was ruled out thanks to the ache in my teeth and the acidic sting in my muscles, I couldn't keep this up forever.

But honestly, I couldn't help being a little shit and causing problems on purpose.

I was like Courage, but instead of the things I did for love it was the things I did for boredom.

Apparently, breaking a rich guy's window and leading his hired guns on a chase was one of those things.

I just hoped the fellas behind me weren't too pissed about it all.

Allan didn't seem overly upset, more amused than anything. Tom had shown an almost protective side by standing in between Sakharine and me. Hobbs looked irritated at Sakharine's threats, suggesting he wouldn't really hurt me if given the chance.

As for Neil, given his helpful advice and lenience when smacked or thrown I'd be very surprised if he turned and got nasty.

Spying a pile of stones half-covered by old scrappy tarp as we ran through some wide-spaced trees near the edge of the thicker grove, I darted around it and put it between me and the sailors as I turned to face them.

Both men were alarmingly close, but the smile on Neil's face eased any worries of anger. Tom didn't look any angrier, just determined and a bit confused. Both men stopped on the opposite of the pile, Tom immediately leaning over with his hands on his knees.

Guess his stamina isn't as endless as I thought, poor guy.

I didn't know his age, but he probably had at least fifteen years on me so him being a little more out of shape was reasonable. He also looked more like a tank, used to taking people down without much of a chase.

"Fast little ferret, ain't ya?" Neil teased, breathing heavy but not as heavy as Tom.

"Ferret?"

"You're 'bout as bitey as one."

I straightened, hands on my hips. "I'll take that as a compliment!" I declared, giving him a toothy grin.

He laughed.

Yeah, Neil's safe.

You mean our brain's concoction of Neil.

Yes, that.

Tom, still leaning over, took a gulp of air and gestured weakly. "Ya can't... can't mean to..." He sucked wind some more. "Can't mean to run all the way back to town!"

Neil chuckled. "Naw, look at that smile, mate. She's enjoyin' this."

I shrugged. "Guilty."

Tom straightened, hands on his head. "Why the hell are ya enjoyin' bein' chased?" he demanded. "Are ya bloody barmy?"

It was my turn to be confused.

"Am... Am I what?"

"Crazy!"

"Oh... maybe."

"Maybe?" Tom exclaimed. "You're actin' like this is fun for ya!"

"Not the runnin', but the chase is fun. Lets me push myself to the limit in a non-threatenin' situation."

"How do you know it's non-threatenin'?" Tom asked. "We could be out to kill ya!"

I raised my brows and pointed at the gun still holstered on his hip. "You ain't gone for that once. If you wanted me dead, you'd have shot me already."

Tom frowned. "And you trust us that much already?"

I shrugged. "You look more confused than aggro, and Neil's laughin' his ass off."

"That's 'cause I am confused!" Tom dropped his hands, shaking his head. "Ya avoid the cops, come 'ere knowin' it's a trap, and ya pissed off the boss despite knowin' he's got us all under his lead."

"That sounds about right."

"And you're not at all worried?"

"I mean I can keep runnin' if you think it'd be better for my health. Not that I'm really enjoyin' this cardio."

"Aw, don't like cardio, huh?" Neil teased, heading around the right side of the pile.

I shifted my own right. "Nope."

He moved left, mirroring me as Tom watched us both. "Really?"

I moved to my left. "Really really."

Neil headed to the middle. "Pity."

I copied him. "Pity indeed."

Oh, I do not care for that smile at all. Think I've seen less concernin' grins on Trevor.

Then, to my utter shock, Neil launched himself over the middle of the stone pile.

"What in the big brother?!" I yelped, darting away.

Tackling my legs, Neil took us to the ground where he rolled himself onto my waist. He swatted my own hands down, lightly smacking the top of my head. "C'mon, martial artist," he teased, weaving out of the way of another strike. "Show me what you got!"

Think!

Planting my foot on his hip, I wrenched his shoulders to the side as I pushed his hip. I had a feeling he let me move him, but a win was a win and as he rolled off I sprang away and darted deeper into the woods.

Climb?

No, trapped above ground.

Over rocks?

No, Neil was more nimble than anticipated.

Through shrubs?

No, if I could charge through them so could the boys.

Underground?

No, no access points.

Only option was to run.

Over a log, around a boulder, under a shrub, across a stream.

Look above the shoulder to make sure they weren't gaining-

The ground vanished beneath my feet and I plunged headfirst down a small gully. I wasn't able to catch myself before I rolled head over heels twice, but I did stop rather suddenly.

Or, rather, my forehead stopped me rather suddenly.

I wasn't sure what exactly I hit, but I did hear a rather loud crack like a firework as the force of me bouncing off the obstacle sent me onto my back.

"Shit!"

Not sure if it was Neil, or Tom, but someone quickly materialized at my side and slowly helped me sit up.

As I did, my hand went gingerly to my forehead.

What kinda Mary Sue bullshit is this? I'm not clumsy! I'm a blackbelt for crying out loud, this is embarrassing!

But at least I had further confirmation this was a dream. Because while I could tell I hit something, I felt zero pain and didn't feel any blood either. Nor did I feel fluid or worse coming out of my ears. I felt soreness, sure, but no pain.

"Holy shit, are you alright?"

Slowly lowering my hand and turning my head to the side, I found Tom staring at me with a worried expression and a hand supporting my back.

I blinked slowly, face deadpan. "Peachy."

"Woah..." Neil breathed, causing Tom and I both to look his way. The brawny sailor crouched by the rock I'd apparently slammed my forehead into, running his hand down it slowly.

"There a reason you're carressin' the boulder, Blondie?" I grunted, my accent coming through strongly.

He looked over his shoulder, eyes wide. "Shortie... how thick is that skull of yours?"

"Very, I'm a redneck with Scotch-Irish roots. Why?"

Neil moved to the side, revealing a massive impact spot akin to a meteor crater with massive fissures snaking out across the rock's surface. His eyes looked about ready to leap from his head as he lifted a shaky hand and gestured at the impact spot with his thumb. "Because you just cracked this boulder into fours."

"Well. That's interest-"

"Are ya sure you're not hurt?" Tom exclaimed, turning my face back to him with both hands as he peered worriedly at my forehead. "Sure somethin's not broke?"

"-Ing."

You are touching my face.

Guess my theories on your hands being rough were right though.

It was interesting, admittedly, how gentle his grip was despite his strength.

Quit blue screening and do something.

I grabbed his wrists and pulled them away. "Quit bein' a mama hen, Tom. Ain't you supposed to be catchin' me?"

Neil stiffened, eyes flashing up to the top of the gully. "Speakin' of that, get down!" he hissed, borderline tackling us both under the small overhang formed by some boulders and shrubs.

I found myself half suffocated under not only Tom, but Neil as well as we all pressed ourselves out of sight from whoever Neil spotted.

I know these guys are both muscle bound sailors and full grown men but damn what are y'all eatin' on the ship?!

Also, which of these two hardened, drug smugglin' gunslingers are out here smelling like nutmeg?

Thankfully, Tom pulled me out from under them and maneuvered me between him and Neil, an arm braced across my front as we sat with our backs pressed against the bank.

Great, now I'm even shorter than them, I thought angrily, gripping Tom's arm and pulling it down from my throat. Damn this short torso.

Ragged breathing reached my ears, and a few moments later I heard Hobbs yell, "Oi! Where'd you lot get off to!?"

Neil elbowed me before holding a finger to his lips. I glanced at Tom, who nodded before giving me a look that strongly suggested I agree as well. Withholding a sigh for now, I turned back to Neil and nodded.

We all waited silently until Hobbs cursed loudly and headed back the way he came.

Neil breathed a sigh of relief. "That was a close one."

I lightly elbowed him as I pushed Tom's armbar away. "Again, ain't yall supposed to be catchin' me?"

"Ain't you supposed to be fightin' tooth and nail to escape?" Neil shot back.

"Touché."

Tom pulled at my shoulder. "D'ya 'ave any idea how dangerous this is, kid?" he demanded, a sharp note in his voice as he shook me. "Do you 'ave any idea what you're gettin' yourself into?"

I grabbed his arm to stop him. "Treasure hunt with an aristocratic asshat who thinks too highly of himself and wants revenge on Haddock for something that happened between the ancestors back in the 1600s that he won't fully cough up, so he bought off his crew to stage a mutiny and more or less keep Haddock a prisoner on his own ship until the time comes to slaughter him?"

He blinked. "Er, maybe you do know," he mumbled, looking away for a moment.

"Hell, think she knows more than us," Neil muttered, crawling out from under the overhang.

"Yeah..." Tom agreed, looking me up and down uncertainly. "How did you know that about the, er, situation with Sakharine?"

Dream!Tom or not, you're never gonna believe me. Not that I really care to delve into lore. I am here for chaos, not substance. Lore can piss off, I want shenanigans.

"Could we... take a raincheck on that explanation?" I asked, crawling out beside Neil and shaking myself off like a wet dog. "Just for a few minutes. I'm up for tellin' y'all, don't worry, but I just gotta, er..." I watched as a cricket scampered off, most likely having fallen from my shoulder. "Figure out how to tell y'all."

Aka, I don't wanna unless I gotta.

"Wait, that means you're stickin' around?" Neil asked.

"I'll unofficially agree with that." I halfheartedly threw my hands up. "Clearly I'm more drawn to y'all than a moth to flame." I frowned. "Though in this case it may be a bug zapper."

"So you surrender? The chase is over, just like that?"

I thought for a moment. "Mmm, nah. Still feelin' a little froggy." I couldn't help but give a short laugh. "Where's the fun in just givin' in without a fight?"

"Certainly ain't done that," Tom muttered, rolling his eyes.

"If you want to feel like you earned your pressgang, we can make that happen," Neil said. "How well can you grapple? Can fight it out and draw the others over with noise."

I grimaced. "Er... not well."

Tom blinked. "All that fancy stuff and you can't grapple?"

"I took karate not jujitsu!" I protested. "I wanted 'em to teach us floorfightin' but they never would due to 'awkwardness'."

Curse what's not in my pants.

"You can't grapple at all?" Tom repeated, a note of exasperation in his voice. He scowled. "Can't box either, can ya?"

I smiled sheepishly. "Er..."

Tom groaned. "I don't believe this! You challenged me this morning knowin' you'd get your ass kicked?"

"Admittedly, I was kinda bankin' on you takin' it easy on me."

"He would," Neil spoke up.

Tom glared at him. "She couldn't have been certain about that."

"So... was I supposed to just give in or not? Because if I didn't know you wouldn't hurt me, then why would I just surrender and trust I wouldn't be gutted and worse."

Tom opened his mouth to argue, only for a new person to enter our conversation.

"Am I interrupting something?" 

[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