#than those who fully know what's going on

[lohotine]

``What it means to be forever``

Shadow Milk Cookie x GN! Reader

Cw: angst, lowkey a really messed up SMC. Like, it's kinda weird- (don't mind him, he's just grieving. Haha)

Sometimes, people act in ways

not because it's how they'd usually act

but simply because

it's how others expect them to

And as Shadow Milk stands here, holding your face in his hands, he's tempted fall into that way of thinking.

How fragile mortals are.

Like porcelain

Your life is in his hands.

Yet he doesn't want to destroy it. Perhaps you're just too entertaining.

Yes, he'll just go with that.

Out of all of his puppets, you are by far his favorite.

Yet in the end, a puppet is still a puppet.

Is that really enough?

For him, it is.

Or at least, that's what he'll tell himself.

Or, whoever he really is.

Who exactly is Shadow Milk Cookie?

An unforgivable beast?

The fount of knowledge?

Just some jester looking for fun?

He wishes you'd tell him.

He would cling to your words, desperately and fully.

Because they are yours.

But he knows better than to get attached.

And to a mortal, no less.

He isn't stupid; but sometimes, when he loves you, he really wishes he was.

That way, he could love you.

Really love you.

Without hiding, and without thinking;

Just loving you.

And you'd love him too, he knows this.

And for some reason, that makes him angry. He hates how you'd love him unconditionally.

But oh,

how much he loves it!

Please love him!

Please hate him!

Please adore him!

Please destroy him!

Sweetly, brutally, any way is fine by him!

And perhaps he'd return the favor.

Slowly destroying you as well.

Or even himself.

Because falling in love with a mortal really is the greatest form of self-destruction for beings like him.

Their lives are so short, yet the mark they leave is just as, if not deeper.

And it'll bleed for so much longer.

Onto the ground and floor beneath him;

Eventually reaching the pages he writes in, becoming words as he writes with the blood.

And he'll write every word that came out of your mouth.

He'll write the sentences you spoke:

About how you'd be with him; now and until forever.

And he thinks you are the biggest liar.

Even bigger than him.

He wishes, so desperately, that he killed you that night.

Because then he could blame your death on somebody.

He could blame himself.

Now. He can't blame anyone.

Because time took you; and how can you blame time?

And once again, he wishes he killed you that night.

So that maybe he could store your blood in a bottle and have it sit on his desk.

And maybe he'd drink from it, to try and remember what it felt like.

What you felt like.

But all he has now are his memories of you.

And he despises replaying those memories in his mind.

Simply because in them, you are mute.

He's forgotten what your voice sounds like.

Is it not enough that he's already lost you? Must the world punish him so by also forcing him to forget you? Not fully, but just enough that it leaves him longing to meet you once more?

Just one single time more?

Maybe then, he'd finally tell you how much he loved you.

Because he never did back then.

Because he thought, if he never told you how much he loved you; then maybe he'd stop feeling it.

But of course, that's not really how it works.

Love never really fades, it just gets beaten down until it's a small, broken shard that's forced to prick at your heart.

And it also stabs into your lungs so that no matter how much you breathe, you'll always be left gasping for air.

Drowning.

Drowning in the emotions you never showed.

And suddenly, it hits him.

This.

This is what you meant when you said you'd always be with him.

You'd be the ache that eats at his heart.

You'd be the ring made from thorns that he's forced to wear around his finger.

You'd be the snake wrapping around his neck so that he dies. Slowly, yet surely, dying.

You'd be the arrow jabbed into his leg so that no matter if he's standing or sitting, it would still hurt.

But.

You'd also be the lantern that guides him through the night, even if the handle still burns his hands.

You'd be the bird that sings the sweetest songs, even if you never ever stop.

You'd be the mirror to help him see exactly who he is, even if he hates who stares back at him.

And that's what it means to be forever.

[lotuswish]

˗ˏˋ what loving you feels like to them (pt. 6 - octavinelle) 𓆝 .ᐟ

synopsis: have you ever wondered what falling in love feels like for each twisted wonderland boy? this series explores love from their perspective—how their personalities, experiences, and desires shape what loving you means to them. follow me to see the next part!

featured character(s): azul ashengrotto, jade leech, floyd leech.

content warning(s): none.

a/n: what loving you feels like to them might occasionally use the same words, but those words mean something a little different for each of them. it might sound familiar, but it's still their own!

azul ashengrotto

loving you feels like being swept away by an unstoppable current for azul ashengrotto—inevitable, overwhelming, and carrying him to places he never dared to dream of. for someone who has spent most of his life meticulously planning, calculating, and staying two steps ahead, love is a variable he cannot fully predict or control. it’s both exhilarating and unnerving, a kind of risk he would never have dared to take before you came into his life.

azul has always carried a deep-seated insecurity beneath his polished exterior. years of being ridiculed as a child for his appearance have made him fiercely determined to prove his worth through power, success, and control. yet loving you doesn’t feel like a negotiation or a transaction—it feels like surrendering to something he can’t quantify. it’s raw and messy and completely unlike the smooth, calculated persona he presents to the world. you don’t look at him for what he can offer, for his intellect or his business acumen; you see him, the parts of himself he tries to hide, and you love him for them. that terrifies him. but it also makes him feel something he’s never felt before: truly enough.

loving you feels like the gentle pull of the moon on the tides, constant and inescapable, drawing him toward something he never thought he could have. it’s the way you make him feel safe enough to lower his walls, to let go of the mask he’s worn for so long. around you, he can be vulnerable without fear of being judged. you’re the one who notices when his smiles don’t quite reach his eyes, the one who knows when he’s tired of putting on a show. with you, he doesn’t have to be the untouchable azul ashengrotto; he can just be azul.

at the same time, loving you stirs a fierce protectiveness within him. he’s spent years honing his ability to turn the tables on anyone who dares challenge him, but with you, it’s different. he doesn’t want to shield you out of strategy or obligation; he wants to protect you because you matter to him in ways he’s still learning to put into words. you’re more than a part of his world—you’ve become his most cherished treasure, something he would protect with everything he has.

for azul, loving you feels like finding a pearl in the depths of the sea—a treasure so rare and precious that he can hardly believe it’s his. it’s a reminder that even in a world driven by deals and ambition, there are things that can’t be earned or bargained for, things that simply exist in their beauty. loving you is terrifying and freeing all at once, and though it challenges everything he thought he knew about himself, he wouldn’t trade it for anything. you are the one thing he never saw coming, the one thing he never wants to lose.

jade leech

loving you feels like curiosity turned obsession for jade leech.

to jade, love is something foreign and utterly fascinating. it’s a deep ocean he’s never fully explored, and you are the mystery hidden beneath its surface. his love for you isn’t loud or obvious; it’s quiet, calculated, and deliberate, like the way he nurtures rare plants in his terrariums. loving you is a process, one he savors as much as he analyzes, peeling back the layers of who you are, uncovering your quirks, your fears, and your dreams. for jade, this discovery is intoxicating, a puzzle he never tires of solving.

and yet, it’s not just fascination. loving you feels like control slipping from his grasp in a way he never anticipated. jade is meticulous, always composed, always in control of himself and his surroundings. but with you, there are moments when he feels unbalanced, when the depth of his emotions surprises even him. it’s as if the current is pulling him somewhere unknown, somewhere dangerous, yet he can’t resist being swept along. loving you is a contradiction: it makes him feel both completely exposed and utterly alive.

for someone who rarely shows his true intentions, loving you feels like a quiet surrender. you see sides of him no one else does, the softness beneath the sharp edges, the warmth behind the cold, polite exterior. it’s disarming and thrilling all at once. you make him feel seen, not just as azul’s clever right-hand man or as the more composed leech twin, but as jade. you notice the details no one else bothers to see, and in return, jade finds himself wanting to give you everything, to open up the world to you as if you were the only person in it.

yet, there's also a possessiveness to his love, a quiet but unyielding need to keep you close. jade is not one to display his emotions openly, but beneath the calm exterior lies an intensity he keeps carefully hidden. loving you is like uncovering a sunken ship filled with untold treasures—a rare discovery he'll guard fiercely, no matter what. his protectiveness is subtle, woven into the fabric of his interactions with you, but it's unshakable all the same.

loving you feels like tending to a rare and delicate flower—something beautiful that requires both care and patience. you are the one thing in his life that cannot be manipulated or controlled, and instead of frustrating him, it fascinates him. he finds joy in watching you bloom, in learning how to nurture the connection between you. loving you is more than fascination; it’s a game he never wants to win, a puzzle he never wants to solve—because the joy isn’t in the answer, but in the endless discovery of you.

floyd leech

loving you feels like chaos and calm all at once for floyd leech.

floyd’s life has always been shaped by his whims, his moods, and his insatiable need to avoid monotony. to him, the world is a game, and people are pieces he moves and discards when they stop being interesting. but you? you’re different. you’re the one thing he can’t figure out, the one person he doesn’t want to toss aside. loving you feels like the kind of chaos he craves, but it also unsettles him in ways he’s never experienced before.

floyd thrives on extremes. he’s not used to balance or moderation, and his feelings for you are no exception. loving you is all-consuming—intense, raw, and sometimes overwhelming. it’s like the ocean at its most turbulent, waves crashing against his heart with a force that leaves him breathless. you challenge him, intrigue him, and keep him guessing, and that’s what he loves most. with you, there’s no risk of boredom, no stale routine. every moment feels alive, charged with a kind of energy he thought only existed in fleeting thrills.

loving you is something he never thought he’d allow, something that sneaks past his defenses and takes root before he even realizes it. floyd has never been one to settle down or feel tethered to anyone, yet with you, he doesn’t feel trapped. he feels seen. you don’t flinch at his unpredictability or try to smooth out his rough edges. you accept him as he is—moods, sharp teeth, and all—and that makes him want to keep you close, tighter than he’s ever held (squeezed) anything before.

it’s not easy for floyd to process emotions like this. he’s used to acting on impulse, but loving you makes him hesitate. it makes him think about what it means to want someone so deeply, to be afraid of losing them. it brings out a possessive side of him, but it’s more than just wanting to keep you close. it’s the fear of you walking away, of you deciding that the chaos he brings isn’t worth it. the idea of losing you is one of the few things that can genuinely make him feel vulnerable.

for floyd, loving you feels like a temptest—untamed, intense, and utterly consuming. it’s a force of chaos that turns his world upside down, and he wouldn’t trade it for anything. you’re the only one who can keep up with him, the only one who doesn’t try to dull his edges, and for that, he loves you with every ounce of his chaotic, unpredictable heart. you’re his favorite thing in the world, the one person he never gets tired of, and he’ll make sure you know it every single day.

congrats on making it to the end! if you enjoyed this, likes, comments, follows, and reblogs are always appreciated—they help motivate me to keep creating and sharing!

[qinluna]

wait no okay, i know this is supposed to be a silly post but i literally just talked about how i wanna see a fight scene between the LIs, but i do think this is the genuine power balance between each of the guys and that sylus would body all of them. (which i know, considering my blog, it may be slightly an inherent bias. ignore that for this rambling.)

let me explain! slight spoilers ahead.

i know that with caleb being added to the roster, we have seen the heavyweight of his power in increments that goes beyond telekinesis. the man can literally open black holes that block off light. he’s horrifying, even with the toring chip implemented in him and we don’t know how much more stronger he will become considering his situation.

but if we take the top two contenders here: sylus versus caleb — energy manipulation is, undoubtedly, the more terrifying feat.

a translator has explained that there’s a lot that has been oversimplified about sylus’ character and a few particular points about his evol. his power goes beyond basic energy manipulation.

he has the capability of taking over people’s subconscious completely: this allows him to see into their deepest, darkest desires, and it’s more than just the average case of mind control.

granted, with how far we’ve gotten into the game so far, we have still yet to see just how powerful each l/i (including mc) is. caleb is a terrifying force of his own, but it makes me wonder how much of his full evol will remain intact when his cybernetic transformation eventually comes into full fruition. he’s being turned into a superhuman weapon — and the big driving force that would make him unstoppable is if he loses all his humanity altogether.

there’s still a lot of mystery to sylus and i know deep down there is more to his strength that is being held back right now to surprise us later on. rafayel just inherited the sea god’s powers. xavier and zayne are in trickier, complex situations when it comes to their own powers, since the overuse of it can ultimately restrict or hinder them.

[full disclosure: i know sea god rafayel, lumiere, and master of fate zayne are also accounted into this. it’s just that i have none of these myths, therefore i’m not too sure how strong they are.]

needless to say, however — there’s still a significant difference in power here. while i am cheering for more insight on the guys’ abilities in the modern timeline, i think we are constantly forgetting that sylus is a powerful force of nature that incites both terror and continuous underestimation from those who challenge him.

he’s someone you don’t go into a battle with blindly, and we don’t know what he’s truly fully capable of.

AND THE WINNER IS

[mameillieureennemie]

i decided on angst. 😞

fwb!vi x reader

summary: you and vi are friends with benefits. so why does it feel more than that now?

the sun sets low, dipping behind the horizon and colouring the world in warm hues. it throws oranges through the window, made into stripes by partially opened blinds, and it's all so...peaceful.

simple.

you stare out the window at the city beyond, take in the skyline as it slowly starts to shimmer. it's coming alive; just in time to greet those who favour the night's darkness. you wonder if you could be drawn out; your friends have been dying to take you to a classy restaurant downtown.

all dressed up in glittery dresses, sloping silhouettes, and too-high heels reveal pain-tinged regret far too late.

still, you could be tempted.

but.

"you okay, sweetness?" vi says from behind, her arms finding their home around your waist. she pulls you in until no space can possibly exist between your back and her chest. her chin hooks over your shoulder, perfectly like a puzzle piece, and it really makes you think.

"i'm fine," you assure her, resting your hands over hers, because you are fine. better than you've felt in days, perhaps. you can't really pinpoint why, but deep down, you know. you're just unsure if you want to accept the reason. "i was thinking about going out tonight. there's this new restaurant my friends want us to try. very fancy; pretty sure you need a reservation."

"aren't you friends with mel medara and caitlyn kiramman?" vi teases, and you can't help but laugh. you see what she's aiming for, and of course, you'd never have to make a reservation for anywhere high brow in the city.

"your point?" you ask, just because you can, and yelp when vi nips at your neck's curve. "hey—!"

vi shushes you. "easy, princess," she murmurs, and you fall at ease. only because you want to. not because vi's voice can command you to do almost anything, especially when it's still a little sleep-heavy, a little hoarse around the edges. "if you want to go out, we can. i was kinda thinking we'd stay in. order some food and watch something funny."

you try not to focus on how vi said we instead of you. you try not to focus on how that made your heart skip.

you keep your eyes on the darkening skyline, noting how the lights in the buildings shine like stars. your throat feels dry; it almost hurts to swallow. there's so much running through your mind right now, so much that makes you want to turn around and go:

this isn't a part of the deal.

this isn't supposed to happen.

all of this is dangerously verging into a—

"i'd like that," you say quietly, already dooming your heart to a tragic end. you take bitter solace in the smile vi presses into your skin, it almost makes you feel sick. but you don't pull away when she turns you in her arms. you don't draw back when she leans in to kiss you.

you don't place a hand on her chest and say what you should say.

we agreed this wouldn't be more than sex.

but vi's mouth is the sweetest nectar you've tasted, highly addictive and forever on your lips. she draws you in until you're back on the bed, underneath her as you surrender to her touch.

the skyline's fully alight by the time you're both sat on the couch, watching some sitcom. you're freshly showered, curled up together with forks digging into take-out cartons.

vi laughs loudly at something on the screen, eyes closed and mouth wide. she's got some sauce at the corner of her mouth, and she's the most beautiful thing you've ever seen and...

no.

you can't do this.

[silent-stories]

𝐋𝐔𝐍𝐀 (𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝐎𝐅 𝐓𝐁𝐀𝐅 𝐔𝐍𝐈𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐄)

Pairing: Noah Sebastian x reader

This takes place before the events of tbaf. (it can be read even without reading the series)

I'm not an expert on children or their nutrition, I'm sorry for any mistakes.

Noah had been coming to the café for a few months now, always with Luna in his arms. You’d exchanged a few words here and there—nothing too deep, just small talk as you handed him his coffee and asked how his day was going.

You had always seen him alone (with his daughter) or with one of his friends, often with the one who never took off his hat or the one with the mustache but never with a wife or girlfriend. And because of that, you thought she wasn't in the picture anymore.

You knew his name because you'd written it on his cup many times and he knew yours because, after some small talk, you had finally introduced yourself. You remembered him because, despite his tired eyes, he always smiled at you with a warmth that made your day just a little bit better.

Today, though, was different. You saw him as soon as he walked through the door, holding Luna in his arms. She was a little over a year old now, her tiny hands clutching his shirt as she fussed in his arms.

Noah looked more worn out than usual, his shoulders slumped as he moved toward a table, clearly trying to comfort his upset daughter.

He wore a black hoodie and dark pants, a sharp contrast to Luna, who was dressed in pink from head to toe.

You immediately pictured him, tall as hell and covered in tattoos, stooping down in a baby store, his large hands carefully selecting minuscule pink dresses and soft onesies.

Right after, you found yourself wondering why those thoughts had even crossed your mind. After all, Noah was little more than a stranger to you, someone you’d exchanged a few words with over the months but never truly gotten to know.

And in that moment, you realized something you hadn’t fully acknowledged before: you actually wanted to get to know him better. The thought caught you off guard—what was it about him that made you feel this way?

Was it the way he smiled? The way he didn't seem to want to be the center of attention by sitting in the corner despite his looks? The sweet way he spoke to his daughter? His brown eyes that immediately met yours every time he walked into The Breakfast Nook?

You found yourself hoping that, maybe one day, he might ask you to meet outside the café, away from the casual interactions. You imagined how it might feel to hear him suggest grabbing something to eat or simply talking somewhere quiet. Hoping that, just maybe, one day you’d gather the courage to do something you’d never considered before—write your number on a napkin, slipping it over to him when giving him his coffee.

As he met your gaze, he gave you a tired smile, one that was not quite reaching his eyes. You smiled back, your heart tightening a little at the sight of him, trying his best to calm Luna. She was clearly not having the best morning—her face scrunched up, her soft cries echoing around the café.

"Hey there," you greeted with your usual easy smile, one that felt like second nature by now.

Noah gave you a small nod, but it was clear that he wasn’t quite himself today. He lowered himself into a chair, gently bouncing Luna in his lap, speaking softly to her. "It’s okay, princess," he murmured, his voice soothing. "Just a little longer, I promise."

You watched for a moment, the sight of him trying to calm her tugging at your heart. You weren’t an expert on babies, but you knew that Luna was about the size most children her age should be— a year old, small but growing. And yet, in her father’s arms, she always seemed so tiny.

He pulled a bottle of milk from his bag, trying to prepare it for her in hopes of settling her down.

But as he was about to offer it to her, a man walked by, too close to their table. He bumped into Noah, knocking the bottle right out of his hand. Milk splashed across the table and onto the floor, and the man didn't even pause to apologize, brushing past as if nothing had happened.

You clenched your jaw as the man walked away, not even glancing back at the mess he had just caused. For a second, you considered calling him out, but when you looked at Noah, he didn't even seem angry, just so tired, and you thought it was better to help the man who had always been kind to you than waste your time fighting with a mean one.

He let out a long sigh, rubbing his face in frustration. Luna’s crying only seemed to get louder, and Noah, now looking more defeated, tried his best to soothe her again. 

You wondered if he was truly alone in taking care of her or if, even if he wasn’t, he still felt that way. You were sure that his friends—the ones you’d seen with him a couple of times—helped him with Luna. You could tell by the way they tried to make her laugh or how they held her for a moment to give him a brief respite. But still, you knew that no matter how much support they offered, it had to be difficult for Noah if he didn’t have someone by his side every single day.

You stepped over to his table, moving quickly to clean up the mess with a cloth, giving him a reassuring smile. "It’s okay," you said softly. "It happens."

Noah looked up at you, his face apologetic. “I’m sorry,” he muttered, rubbing his eyes, still trying to calm Luna.

You shook your head. “It’s really not your fault. Don’t worry about it,” you reassured him, moving efficiently to clean the floor. "That man is just an ass."

He smiled gratefully but tiredly, looking at Luna, who was still upset in his arms. “I’m just...so… exhausted,” he admitted quietly, his voice barely above a whisper as he planted a kiss on his daughter's head, hoping that could calm her a bit.

"My Lu," he murmured, "what's the matter?"

The tenderness in his tone made your heart ache just a little. You finished wiping up the last of the mess and stood up, brushing off your hands. “I have some whole milk,” you offered, keeping your voice light. “I can refill the bottle for you, if you want. I'm not sure if she drinks any special milk though, I've never dealt with children.”

Noah looked up at you, his eyes softening. "This creature eats and drinks everything, trust me. If you bought her a whole chicken right now, she would eat the bones too. So the milk would... would be really great. If it’s not too much trouble."

"Not at all," you assured him with a smile, taking the bottle, trying to ease some of the tension in his posture. "I’ll be right back."

As you turned to go, you heard Noah speaking gently to Luna. “It’s okay, Lu,” he murmured, adjusting her in his lap. “That sweet girl is gonna bring you your milk, alright?”

You darted to the back and quickly returned with a fresh bottle of milk. As you set the bottle down in front of him, you gave him a quick smile. “I’ll grab your usual coffee too,” you said, already walking back toward the counter.

Noah looked up at you, looking genuinely relieved. “Thank you, really. I’m sorry about all this. I should have—” He stopped himself, running a hand through his hair. “I don’t know what I’m doing anymore, honestly.”

You shook your head, cutting him off. “It’s fine, really. And I don't really know you but I think you’re doing great.” You paused for a moment, looking at him and Luna, who was finally calming down as she suckled from the bottle. “I think you’re doing your best, that’s all anyone can do.”

He nodded, his gaze softening. “I appreciate that more than you know.”

When you returned with the coffee, Noah, still helping Luna drink with one hand, looked up at you with a small, exhausted but grateful smile.

“Thanks again,” he murmured as you placed the coffee in front of him. “Really.”

You waved him off. “It’s no trouble at all.”

Luna, finally satisfied, let out a soft sigh, her small hand resting against her father’s chest. She looked up at him with those big, brown eyes, her lips curling into a sleepy little smile, then she turned her head a bit and she looked at you.

You smiled at her softly and said, “Hi, baby.”

Luna kept looking at you, her eyes wide and curious, before Noah’s voice broke the moment. “Say hi, Lu.”

With a slow, little stretch of her arm, Luna reached toward you, her tiny voice barely a whisper as she moved her mouth away from her milk bottle for a moment and she said, “Hi.”

Noah chuckled softly at the sight, his smile warm as he watched the exchange. It was the sweetest thing, the simplest of gestures, but in that moment, it felt like everything.

When you were about to walk away, you couldn’t help but notice something.

His hand was wrapped in clear plastic. Your gaze lingered for a moment before you instinctively asked, “New tattoo?”

Noah blinked, looking at you in surprise. “What?”

You quickly realized what you had said and gestured toward his hand with a slight flush. “Sorry, I just saw the plastic wrap...”

He glanced down at his hand, then back up at you, his lips curling into a small smile. “Oh, yeah. New tattoo. Got it yesterday. I’ve been wanting to do it since she was born, but I never really found the right time.”

He shifted his hand a little, turning it toward you so you could get a better look. There, on the back of his hand, was a small, black tattoo: a moon.

You stared at it for a moment. “Luna means moon. Makes sense,” you said softly. “That’s sweet.”

He looked at the tattoo for a moment, then back at you, his expression turning softer. “I wanted her to know how much she means to me,” he said. “Even though she’s too little to understand right now… I want her to have something that reminds her of that. Always.”

You could hear the weight in his words, and the way he looked at Luna, still quietly drinking her milk, only made it more apparent just how deeply he felt for her. There was so much love in him, in the way he looked at her daughter, in the way he held her against his chest, a kind of tenderness that you noticed before, but now it seemed impossible to miss now.

“She’ll understand, eventually,” you said gently. “And she’ll always have this to remember how much she means to you.”

Noah gave you a faint smile, looking down at Luna, his hand resting protectively on her tiny head. “Yeah. I hope so.”

You stood there for a moment observing the scene, almost forgetting that you were working and that it was Grace's day off and you couldn't waste time.

Finally, you broke the quiet. “It’s beautiful, really” you said. “And she’ll love it when she’s old enough to understand.”

He looked at you, and for the briefest moment, his eyes held a kind of warmth that made your heart flutter. “Thank you,” he murmured, his voice just above a whisper, "for everything."

As you walked away, you couldn’t help but glance back one more time. Noah was focused on Luna again, his fingers gently brushing her hair as she rested in his arms and he kissed the top of her head.

“Dada,” Luna mumbled, her voice quiet but clear as she nestled deeper into Noah’s chest.

“Yeah?” Noah answered, his lips twitching into a tired smile.

Luna’s tiny fingers curled around his shirt again as she blinked up at him, “Dada.”

Noah let out a breathy chuckle, shaking his head slightly as he pressed another gentle kiss to her forehead. “That’s right, baby,” he murmured. “I’m right here.”

The moment was so tender that you had to look away, giving them their space.

You adored their little family.

And you didn’t know then that one day, you’d be part of it too.

Tags: @anything-more-than-human @ladyveronikawrites @iloveyoutodeathbutimdrowning @collisionofyourkissmakesitsohard @fadingangelwisp @xmads-omensx @iwasntstable @thisbicc @pathion @flowery-mess @into-the-grey @lacy1986 @tosoundlessdarkistare @stardustsirenmelody @thewrstinme @hurricanesfollowyou @ichoosetenderomens @chey-h @alwaysfightforwhoyouare @follow-me-down-to-wonderland @missduffsblog

TBAF Tags: @klutzy-kay24 @mrscevans @concreteangel92 @iconic-taurus @niicoleleigh @cheyyyyr @supersquirrel1996 @respectfulrebel @clickmedead @whenyouwannafindlove @kenjipepsi1

[rhyrhy]

Happy accident’s

Butch Abby! draft

This is a silly draft, based on this tweet! (But make it Abby)

Mlist

The bass-heavy thrum of music pulses through the dimly lit bar, weaving between the laughter and faint chitchat of the crowd. This place is packed, you thought. Between the neon lights reflecting off half-empty glasses and slightly sticky tabletops, it was kind of cozy.

Even if the air smells like spilled liquor, a clatter of mixed perfumes, and the wafting bite of cigarette smoke from the patio. You sighed deeply knowing you’d have to rewash your hair to get the smells stuck once you returned home. 

At one corner of the bar, a group of femmes huddle close. Among them, you adjust the straps of your fishnet stockings beneath your shorts, sipping a vodka cranberry. Though your eyes kept flickering towards the pool table. You inconspicuously pretended to roll your neck to get a better look at the figure of your attention.

“Oh, she’s pretty…” you thought, scanning over what you could see from your seat. Still trying to be subtle and not stare like a weirdo.

toward the pool table, where a tall, broad-shouldered butch in a fitted tank top and cargo pants leans against the edge, laughing with her small pack of friends. You watched as her arm flexed slightly to adjust her grip on the cue stick. Slightly lowering her body to get a good shot, she looks so focused…cute.

Once you realized how long you had been staring You quickly turned back to your friends, pretending your gaze wasn't lingering. Mentally slapping yourself.

“Ooo, who are you looking at?” One of your friends says, trying to follow your now abandoned gaze.

“What? Pfft, no one.” Yeah, that was totally convincing. Not.

You earned a few laughs at the obvious lie, going back to your previous conversation. You, feeling a little embarrassed for looking so hard, kept your gaze forward. Doing your best to be engaged in the conversation in front of you.

When suddenly, while sitting, your fishnets brush against warm skin and a rough texture, pulling you backwards a little.

Snag

Abby halts mid-step, confusion flashing across her face as she tries to move, but something tugs against her thigh. 

"What the—" you say, a little startled from the sudden pull, grabbing the end of the table to stabilize yourself so you didn’t hit the floor. 

She turns, and that's when she sees it: your fishnets are hooked onto her carabiner. She glances down at the sudden resistance and then back up, amusement flickering across her face. How silly.

"Oh," Abby says, fighting back a grin.

You immediately move to free it, but she beats you to it, insisting apologetically. 

"Oh—hold on, I got it." 

Her hands are rough, but surprisingly gentle as she tries to work the fabric loose. You feel your cheeks burn, her fingers lingering a moment too long over the frayed edge of the hole in your fishnets. The smell of her soap filling your senses.

"Sorry about that." Abby murmurs, finally untangling your fishnets from her belt.

When she fully stood in front of you, you couldn’t help but scan over her a little more before replying. 

“No worries.” A small smile and wave of your hand followed. You spot another small grin on the woman in front of you as she leans against the bar, seemingly eyeing your fishnets. 

"…Those are cute, by the way," she says, a hint of approval in her voice. She motions towards your shorts and the exposed length of thigh underneath.

"They…look good on you."

“Yeah? Thank you. I’d say the same, but your outfit was just attacking me,” you joked, feeling a bit more confident than before. This wasn't so bad.

She grinned and looked down at her carabiner and pants. 

“Hey, it’s not my fault your fishnets have a thing for my gear,” she replies, followed by a huffed laugh.

“But, I’ll take it as a compliment.”

————

Yeah it’s a small obsession atp, I have no shame.

[angelart67]

OK... So I don't have Instagram, which is probably because it is META owned & if I gave up my FakeBook, it makes no sense why I would just jump to another platform owned by the same entity... YES, I DO KNOW THAT HAS NOTHING TO DO WITH THIS... Only wrote it cause this makes me wish I could ONLY SEE the stuff that is WORTH IT on those platforms... LIKE THIS... Soooooo, that said, THANK GOD, you posted this on Tumblr as well... TY TY TY TY TY

MANY more ppl need to see n read this. BECAUSE, whatever rights or options or do-overs you think you have due you, this fact is MEDICALLY PROVEN...

Abortion STOPS A BEATING 💓🙏💔😇PLEASE don't murder God's Miracles...

OH WAIT... Before someone out there goes off on me because they just ASSume I have no stake in this, don't know what I'm talking about, or think I'm trying to kidnap their uterus... LISTEN UP... PLEASE, & I am NOT calling anyone out of their name, so let's see if we can possibly just stay on track with facts, for once, & not behave like bullies...

I do TY in advance for that...

I gave birth to 4 children, 2 were full term, 1 was "overbaked" family funny there, & 1 was extremely premature (especially for it being the 80's when they knew far less about premature infants) I also have suffered thru multiple miscarriages, & yep BIG DIFF between that happening to a woman & calling for an appt to end things on purpose... Every miscarriage I went thru made ME feel the same way I'd have felt, had I lost any of my living children (like stillbirth), they were ALL DEVASTATING LOSSES... Of my 4 who were born & lived, they are on this earth because my mama raised me to believe, once I am pregnant, planned OR unplanned, it is (in my heart & belief system) God's will, God's miracle, God's choice & MY DUTY... I don't wish to get into ANY debate with ANYONE over religion. Please NOOOO I've still not recovered from my recent political trauma, so have some mercy... So there I was in 4 different situations, at various times between 17 & 30 years old, in my doctors office, being given the news... This part pretty much kills me emotionally, because if only you could step into MY BELIEF SYSTEM for one little minute, please try, IF you were brought up that way, & fully believed that, to have a medical doctor (well 4 actually) not SUGGEST, but almost INSIST you go kill your unborn child you just found out about !!!!!

See... I happened to be born with a rare congenital disorder, which can transfer from mama to baby, BUT rather than even ASK ME about any CHOICE I might want to make, they was ready to pack me off to what I CONSIDER paid killers... If they had bothered to ask me, I could easily have shared that I believe in God, that for whatever reason, (I cannot know in this lifetime) allowed me to be born with this congenital disorder... so MY MIND & HEART reasons this way... out of my mom's 4 kids, only me & 1 brother had/have it, other brother & sister, nary a sign, just fine... Now God allowed me to have it, BUT HE also allowed me to get pregnant with my child... can't you just suppose (pretend again if you must) but if this ALL KNOWING GREATER POWER, I call God allowed BOTH of those occurrences to take place, MAYBE it was so I NEEDED to place my faith in Him? That is what was required, that is what was in my prayers, "Please Father God, just take care of my baby & help me be strong, whatever Your will." When I was a little kiddo, by the way, there was no medical test for my congenital disorder... back then, you got diagnosed by certain characteristics of the anatomy, having to do with skeletal system, cardiac system, vision, & muscular systems. So that is how my brother & I were diagnosed... nobody knows before my dear mom who else may have had it, because really nothing was specifically known 2 generations prior... Yes, my mom died when I was 17, as a direct result of this condition, in fact it was literally ONE WEEK before I discovered I was pregnant, so think again (as me) I am a teenager, just lost my mom last week, then found out I am pregnant, & a medical doctor (who knew those facts by the way) is suggesting I go murder what became my beautiful daughter, not to mention the mama of my ONLY grandchild... My daughter became my shining beam of sunlight & life, thru the death of my mom, helping me have good reason to get thru some of the most difficult days of loss I ever felt... So, anyone out there wanna clue me in about MY CHOICE... Well, that's OK, I only had ONE choice because my Bible instructs me, "Thou shalt not kill", & I assure you there is no clause or addendum attached to that COMMANDMENT that says

A. Unless this is inconvenient for you... B. Unless you have no faith in Me to care... C. Unless you are concerned about money...

Naaaaa... no such deals, not for me, & not for billions of other people raised with similar beliefs, in a menagerie of various religious belief systems... so is it that hard to believe that while there are SOME OUT THERE, I'm sure who simply don't believe in God, but are ONLY bent on stealing your RIGHTS... Don't you think there's a LOT who simply feel it is our God given duty to try & stop what we view as one of the worst crimes against humanity? Is it possible? Cause I'm nice, I swear, I'm not out to get anyone... but when I've spent 30 odd years working in the health industry, & I am so beyond aware of the medical facts, & ALL OF THEM in my eyes, PROVE LIFE FROM CONCEPTION but when I first learned about things like "partial birth abortion" I am HORRIFIED !!! & no, I'm not just saying everyone is going to carry almost to term, or to term in some instances, & then grab the long surgical scissors, (I mean the BRAIN SCRAMBLER) & by the way, that IS DEFINATELY NOT why we are born with a soft spot... but to me, if it's 6 weeks, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, months, no matter, it is the KILLING of a human who is completely unable to defend itself, NOBODY is giving these kids a choice, they call em slimeblobs, to be able to live with it IMO...

I've been there, I HAVE lived it, 1 of my 4 was (possibly) the result of rape, because that happened to me, just around the time I got pregnant... we just did not know until after birth when it could be proven one way or the other, & yes, THANK GOD she ultimately wasn't the rapists child, but I promise you as God is my witness, had I known THEN, like I wasn't in my relationship, so I KNEW... I still could never have ended her life... medical facts DO PROVE life begins at conception, the medical field simply use various terms, to show what point things are at, so even if embryo or fetus sounds like blob to you, it's not, not at all, & if you only be selfless for a little while, my point is beyond proven... NOTHING that isn't alive has a heartbeat or organs forming more each day, & the scientific list goes on...

My brother, who was also born with my same congenital issues, passed away in his early 40s as a direct result of the condition... so does that mean he had nothing to offer this world in his 4 decades? Nowadays, they developed a blood test that gives a definitive yes/no answer about what I live with. There is no more figuring it out from aspects of your anatomy... I've now surpassed the age my brother & mother passed away at, about to be 58 in the spring... I don't know how or why my Father in heaven has kept me going this long, I assure you, I am far from healthy, but I like to think I contributed a LOT of good, in my time here, & I'm blessed my mom didn't just think, "Aww screw it, she might be born all messed up." & do me in... Had that happened, this world would also be (probably) without any of my 3 siblings, their children, grandchildren & and great-grandchildren, without my 4, & without my grandson... & By the way, my kids had the blood test that now exists, NONE of them have it... so I'd have also murdered them pointlessly, had I listened to the doctors...

I'm done, I pray I made an impact with SOMEBODY SOMEWHERE, I pray I at least make others think & reason things through...

God Bless & Keep You, & may He protect those who can't protect themselves, 🙏😇

[faeprincess777]

Beg for me

Synopsis: Lets just say he’s not happy when he wakes up to find he’s tied to the bed and his pretty little girlfriend is teasing and edging him.

TW: bondage, reader calls Jongho a bitch, use of vibrator, implied consent, slight choking, teasing and edging, slight begging, Jongho is not happy!🫠

This is a prompt from the WIP tag game! Let me know if I missed anything! (Not proofread, sorry for any typos)

Stirring from his sleep, Jongho tries to stretch only to find that he can’t. Quickly opening his eyes to find his wrists bound to the bed and his girlfriend standing at the foot of the bed, hands behind her back with a smile on her face.

“Hey there, sleepyhead.” you say coyly. You know that he is going to be pissed when he realizes what you’re about to do, but being the brat you are you couldn’t care less.

“Y/N? What are you doing” He asks, pulling against his restraints. Sleep is still evident in his voice as well as a hint of irritation. 

“I wanna play with you.” you respond sweetly before slowly crawling onto the bed and up his body. As you straddle his thighs, you slowly show him the item you hand concealed behind your back. It's the pretty pink vibrator Jongho got you for Valentine’s Day.

At that moment, Jongho is fully awake. As his irritation grows, he pulls more and more on the handcuffs connecting him to the headboard. They’re cheap, and he could break them if he really wanted to, but deep down, a part of him wants to see what you have planned. 

“Y/n. Untie me. Now.” Jongho says through gritted teeth. He knows that you won’t listen to him, but at least this way he can say he warned you. If you know anything about Jongho, it's that he will definitely get you back for this. But for now, he was at your mercy and you were definitely going to enjoy this while you could.

You simply shake your head, smiling down at Jongho with an almost evil smile. You trail the vibrator down his chest and his abs before settling it over his growing bulge.

“Don’t you dare.” Jongho warns, but it only encourages your behavior. You lean down, slotting your lips of his in a gentle kiss. For a moment Jongho actually believes you’ll listen to him. A mistake on his part. 

One moment, you two are sharing a sweet and intimate kiss and the next the vibrator comes to life, pulling a loud moan from the boy below you. He pulls harder on the cuff, but not hard enough to break them. He still wants to see this play out.

Jongho feels the pressure building in his stomach and knows that he’s close to the edge. But right before he tips over the edge, you pull away completely. His eyes, full of fire, shoot a nasty glare your way.

“Oh, I’m sorry. Did you want to cum? You have to beg for it.” you say teasingly. So this was your game, make you dangle his release in front of him only to take it away. Now he was pissed and horny, a dangerous combo.

“I’m not begging.” Jongho grits out. He has never been so turned on but also so angry in his life.  “Then you’re not cumming” you say, with a nonchalant shrug of your shoulders.

“Y/n, you’re pushing your luck. You won’t like what happens.” Jongho warns. 

“Ooo, I’m so scared. You think you’re in control?” you say, harshly grabbing him by the throat. “Right now, you’re my bitch. You understand? And I said "beg.”

Oh, pissed would be an understatement. Jongho was livid. He wanted nothing more than to break those damn cuffs and show you who the bitch really is. But no matter how much he wanted to end your little game, he decided against it. He’ll play along and let you have your fun… for now.

“Are you going to be a good boy and beg? Or am I going to have to make you?” you say, releasing his throat, trailing your hand down his chest. You’re trying your hardest to sound dominant. But you weren’t fooling anyone, especially Jongho. You both knew you were going to be in for it.

“Please, just touch me.” Jongho says through gritted teeth, his patience running thin. Pleased with his response, you give in, placing the vibrator back on his aching bulge.

The moment you do, Jongho is throwing his head back. Relieved at the stimulation. “Good boy, are you going to cum for me?” You say confidently. Jongho nods his head, not trusting himself to speak. He wanted so badly to pin you to the best and fuck you until you can’t do anything but beg him. 

“You’ve been so good for me. You can come, baby.” you say sweetly. If you don’t draw this out, maybe he’ll go easy on you. Or so you thought. With your permission, Jongho allows himself to fall into ecstasy, staining your pretty silk nightgown with his cum. Though he would never admit it, he’s never cum harder than he did right now.

Slowly, you guide him down from his high. He takes a moment to collect himself before looking at you again. He wasn't surprised to see the stupid smirk on your face.

One moment, you have Jongho writhing in pleasure beneath you and the next you he grabs you and pins you to the bed. Look up at him you see the sinister smile as he dangles the now broken handcuff in front of your face.

Before you can fully comprehend what happened, Jongho is ripping his shirt off, using it to tie your hands to the headboard. Now, it was Jongho’s turn to play, and he had absolutely no intention of taking it easy on you. You realize now that you fucked up, bit time.

Jongho leans over your bound body, leaning in to whisper in your ear, “Still want me to beg?”

Tagging: @mimikittysblog

[raayllum]

Immortality & Longevity in TDP

Because season 7 brought up some very interesting Threads to contrast with the series' previous sentiments on immortality / ridiculously long lifespans. So let's go.

Those Who Naturally Live Forever(-ish)

There are three main camps of characters who experience longevity in TDP.

Those who experience it naturally, but can still die (the Archdragons, some elves)

Those who acquire it through dark magic means

Those who cannot permanently die (the First Elves, Aaravos)

I want to talk about the Group Number One first, because it includes the most characters and was the basis for this meta. Besides Lujanne and Akiyu, we don't know too many elves who have lived for hundreds of plus years, although it wouldn't surprise me if Aditi did. Lujanne and Akiyu are both mages as well, with Lujanne living at the most powerful concentration of Moon magic in the world, so that could be part of the reason why she's lived so long, and Tidebound elves (as Finnegrin had Sea Legs' sister for 40+ years) just naturally live much longer than other types of elves (Moonshadow, Sunfire) as far as we know.

The Archdragons themselves also don't talk much about the length of their lives, since it's a species-shared trait and so second nature to them. However, whenever they do talk about it, we get a very clear picture:

It's not exactly... positive. Now, some of this is because of their mental states. Sol Regem lost his beloved mate a thousand years ago, lost his position as the king of the dragons, and been effectively cut off from Xadia's political sphere / the other archdragons for a long time. Rex Igneous is similarly isolated (though it seems more self-inflicted) and we know he had a previous falling out with Avizandum (presumably over Zubeia). We also see Zubeia grow increasingly listless both times she falls ill / almost loses her family (S3, 5x09) so it seems that despite being very rare and accordingly isolationist, Archdragons don't tend to do well alone and without families (understandably).

But the verdict seemingly from at least 2/4ish known archdragons is that

In this way, the Archdragons' view of their quasi-immortality isn't that different from how Aaravos views his literal one:

The stars have never smiled upon their creations. This world was made by cruel, unfeeling hands. It is an instrument of pain, of torment. To exist within this world is to suffer. Even death is no reprieve.

So what about the characters who disagree to the point of doing terrible things so that they can exist forever?

Kpp'ar and Kim'Dael (Crafted Immortality)

Although there's only two characters in the "dark magic induced immortality" category, they paint two such completely different pictures that, in many ways, it shows the full spectrum of just how one can achieve an unnatural immortality.

On the one hand, we have Kim'Dael, who takes dark magic's canonically to its long believed natural conclusion of cannibalism. Kim'Dael takes parts (blood) from magical creatures (in this case, elves) and consumes it to enhance her own abilities and her livelihood. This doesn't always mean fully killing and draining someone, but often can (Bloodmoon Huntress) with multiple individuals / sometimes whole families at a time as she must experience semi-regular rejuvenation; it is unknown if she needs to eat or consume anything else in her day-to-day life.

Her magic use was also confirmed to be a form of dark magic in this interview:

the way that she does, is beyond primal magic. She’s found ways through dark magic to extend her primal moon powers. It’s very evil how she is able to do what she does and extend her life

Despite the dragons who don't have to work to be immortal being far more despondent about their long, long lives, it's not hard to think of reasons why Kim'Dael would want to be immortal. Death is a scary unknown, she (like Finnegrin) is out of tune with her primal knowingness on a fundamental level, and she can do so without harm to herself. Like most dark mages we've seen, her dark magic use requires using and taking from the people around her more, accordingly, than it's taking from her. She takes from others to give herself power: dark magic 101.

Kpp'Ar's search for immortality is way fucking weirder, IMO. It's not necessarily that dark mages, or dark magic, never uses the caster's body for spells. It inherently saps energy (hence the white streaks, nosebleeds, collapsing, etc) and drains life from the body; each spell harms the caster in at least a small way. It's also not like we've never seen a dark mage use their own body parts for a spell; Claudia uses and drinks her own blood mixed into the pentapus ink in 5x09, and Viren mutilates his own heart in 6x08 rather than use someone else's.

It's just, that if Kim'Dael has a way to chase immortality that does mean using somebody else's body... why on earth would you use your own?

It seems that before his change of heart, Kpp'Ar was experimenting with one of the darkest of all magics. A way of extending life. Indefinitely. A horrible and strange kind of immortality. The ancient and disturbing practice of self-eating.

Now, some of this may come down to access or skillset. Presumably Kim'Dael could drink human blood and use it for her spells, since the arcanum of the elf she's drinking from doesn't seem to matter. However, even if you can use human blood, Kpp'Ar at this point was older and used a cane (if we assume this was a later in life pursuit, and not over decades); he likely wasn't going to be able to kidnap and haul back anyone but children back to Puzzle House, and while we know he's willing to sacrifice children (6x06) it's not canonically clear if he's willing to use them.

Either way, we know Kpp'Ar was pursuing immortality as well as the location of the Garden of Innocents concurrently. We don't know if this was interrelated, but we do know that unicorns are connected to the Star arcanum, which is presumably what makes First Elves immortal-ish so... maybe? It's not clear why Kpp'Ar would want immortality in general, especially that type of immortality, for himself, but clearly there will be a reason. It could be that he wanted to transfer it to someone else (Soren) and gave up, but that's not fundamentally different than what Kim'Dael does, so... again: why himself?

(Arc 3 come home to me)

Cannot Die

Last but not least, we have Aaravos + the other First Elves in the 'cannot die' category, except when they can (Leola). I've written more before about how... odd the info surrounding what the Cosmic Council can and cannot do and what we may be missing, for lack of a better term. Quick rundown:

The Cosmic Council can execute Startouch elves. Aaravos did not have enough power to stop them. (*At the time of Leola's death, as things may have changed since then)

Aaravos seems to be utterly unconcerned that the Cosmic Council conceivably could, if they became aware of his actions, execute him in the same manner. Aaravos does not seem to care if they notice, given that he asks, "Are you watching?" in 7x08.

When Aaravos' mortal form (like the one Leola had/used on earth) is destroyed in 7x09, there are noticeable visual differences to the destruction of his daughter's.

Aaravos seems to want to bring the First Elves into "this world" as it is an instrument of pain that begets only suffering, and "I want them to suffer."

We also know that Aaravos believes the First Elves don't care about / love their creations at all, so destroying the earth can't be the endgame goal. We also know that something is keeping Aaravos from accessing/attacking them, otherwise he would've done so before being imprisoned.

Presumably, something in the interim has changed with either 1) Aaravos is no longer able to die or 2) He has found a way to be able to kill the other First Elves if they went after him, rather than the other way around. Potentially dark magic is the road to get there, or a form of ancient magic the First Elves tried to keep hidden that became the basis for dark magic.

Either way, we know that the First Elves are able to end an otherwise truly immortal being's existence permanently (at least so far) and that it's a power at one point Aaravos did/does not have. I'll be curious to see what we learn about all of this and self-eating in the future.

[mrsnancywheeler]

half return // finnick odair x reader

1.3k words

masterlist

summary: the capitol has its way of digging its claws in so deep that you're no longer even sure where it ends and you being. finnick tries to reassure you, even though you struggle to let him in.

warnings: hurt/comfort, angst, fluff, reader is an unreliable narrator, mentally unwell, and emotionally shut off, victor!reader, allusions to things doing with the games themselves, pre-established relationship, no use of y/n, unedited and short, just a treat so I can really get back into writing finnick

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

The Capitol had a way of taking everything for you. Where you were supposed to find comfort in being in your District, even after the years that had passed, it still didn’t feel like it had before. It was almost like a rebirth, but not in a way that felt refreshing. It was more like a baptism of sludge, it made you slow, and tired, like tearing your skin off your bones. That wasn’t the life you’d been promised. No, the Capitol made winning their Games seem so illustrious, so alluring, with a big house where the roof never caved, enough food for a while for everyone in your district to go without starving, and all the fame someone from a District could ever dream of having. All of that was true, but what was the cost? After all this time it still felt like your sanity had slipped down the drain, and you didn’t even know who you were anymore.

That’s exactly how you felt as you stared at your reflection in the mirror. Letting the thoughts consume you as the feeling of zoning out of reality into the dissonance of your own thoughts made your face distort itself. Maybe, you thought, this distorted version of yourself was closer to who you really were inside than any picture. Those too closely resembled who you once were, who you were supposed to be. Oh, the things you would do to have that life back.

“Everything okay in here?” Finnick’s voice cut through your thoughts, broke the illusion of the mirror, and startled you back into the even sadder reality.

“Hmmm?” You glanced at him, eyes wide, like you hadn’t quite heard him, although the words really just hadn’t fully registered in your brain yet, “Yeah, everythings good, everything is fine.”

You offer a halfhearted smile that’s trying its best to be so real, he deserves real. You know that, after all he’s been through, all he’s done for you, even just for putting up with you, and yet the days creep in where you can’t give him that. All you can do is try and fake it until you make it. Almost like you’d had to do in the Games, but now it was to stop the attention. You didn’t need him anymore worried, scared about you spiralling, you were, but he didn’t need to know that. He deserved to have a partner, that’s what he signed up for, not to deal with another person’s emotional baggage and trauma. That’s at the very least the excuse you gave yourself in order to make lying about it feel okay.

“You’ve been brushing your teeth for at least 10 minutes.” He’s smirking, chuckling a little, pushing himself further into the bathroom from where he was leaning in the doorway.

“Just really getting in there. I really can’t help it if I have better dental hygiene then most, it’s just a burden I have to carry.” You look away, rubbing your neck, before adjusting your eyes back into the mirror. God, you’re a mess. Life is a mess. You used to dream of no longer being a child, of the freedom that would come with it, and now as you look in the mirror you resent younger you for that wish. Growing old has not been a blessing, and that makes the fact that you fought so hard for it even more tragic.

Finnick’s arms are around you, arm crossing your body, holding onto your other shoulder, he’s pulling you into him. Face pressed to yours, it’s meant to be comforting, and you hate to admit to yourself that it is. You want to push this down, not let him comfort you for it. “What’s going on?” His voice is so soothing, he smells like the ocean, and it draws you in. Yet you must resists in some capacity.

“Finnick-” You turn your face away and after a second you feel him start to pull away. You can hear him trying to suppress his sigh, feel the way his shoulders slightly slump, and suddenly your blood is running with guilt. He wants to be there for you, to help, you know that even if you want to shield yourself from that type of support. However, the idea of disappointing, of hurting the man you love by hiding those parts of yourself, makes the pit in your stomach so much heavier. You really can’t help but fold to him. “Come with me.” You’re turning your face back to his.

His eyebrows furrow together, “Where? What’re you talking about, sweetheart?” One of his thumbs is rubbing circles onto your skin that make you want to melt into him, to cry, but you haven’t let yourself cry in at least a year. You won’t let yourself start now.

“My house, my old house, I wanna go see it.”

If he was anyone else you would’ve expected him to say something about the fact you were both currently in your pajamas, or how late it was, but he’s Finnick, your Finnick, and so all he does for a second is look into your eyes as if he’s seeing into the depths of your soul that you desperately don’t want him to see. “Okay.” He nods, and is pressing a kiss to your forehead before letting you go. You can’t help but miss and crave his touch the moment it’s gone.

It’s even later into the night by the time you’ve both gotten dressed again and are leaving the gilded cage of Victors Village. You don’t care though. This is the first time you’ve let Finnick come with you on one of these escapades, usually you make them in the middle of the day anyways, but you’re letting him in on this little thing you do for yourself. The opening on who you were, what your life was before the Capitol came and sunk its teeth in, draining you of all that you used to be, all you thought you were. The two of you walk in silence, but it’s not one of awkwardness or stagnation, no, it’s just exactly what it needs to be. You can hear the ocean hitting the rocks and the shore, feel the wind, smell the salt air, and in the smallest amount it can it brings a sliver of unwanted comfort.

Then you’re there. The old, dilapidated house, roof caving in on itself, moss growing up its walls. No one has moved in since you and your family moved out of it, it’s like a reminder that one of the Victors came from it, what even the poorest citizen could come out of through the Games. In reality though, there was no point in buying a house like this, it was basically begging to crash in on itself, and then the owner would be paying more to repair the house then they’d spent to purchase it. So, here it sat. Dead lawn, broken fence, and a childhood’s worth of dreams.

“Every time I expect it to make me feel like me again or something, I know it’s stupid, but I just can’t help it. And everytime it does absolutely nothing, but I can’t stop coming back.” You’ve never told anyone that before, why you crawl back to the ruins of your childhood, of life before. Searching desperately for comfort, for understanding of who you are, only for it never to be found. “I just want it to tell me who I am.”

“It’s not stupid.” Finnick means what he says, so earnestly, and though you’ve told yourself you won’t cry. That you can’t let yourself do that anymore, something about that small reassurance has the tears slipping out once again, and once you’ve started you can’t stop. You’re trying to cover your face, hide it in the moonlight, suppress the way sobs make your body shake, but you can’t. Not from him, never from him. He’s holding you before you’ve even fully devolved. “Whatever you need to help you, you do. Okay? It doesn’t get any easier, I can’t lie to you about that, but if you really don’t think you know who you are, then just ask. I know exactly who you are, even if you think I don’t, I see every side of you."

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽༓☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅

Thank you so much for reading, sorry it's so short, kind of using this as a jumping off point to get back into writing Finnick fics. As always likes, comments, reblogs, and asks are much appreciated. Love you all so much 💋

[edwin-paynes-bowtie]

What makes you love payneland as a romantic pairing? Personally when I watched the show I saw them as a platonic pair almost exclusively. Like yes, I believe that sometimes you do look at your best friends with stars in your eyes, bc that's part of the queer experience to me. Anyway I'm getting off track. What drew you to them as a ship? How do you feel about Palasaki? Do you think the show will ever get picked up again? Will it ever be the same?

Love to know your thoughts!

I think Edwin and Charles's relationship is super queer and I love it. Like, they are best mates. They have been married 35 years. They've never kissed. They go to Hell for each other. They have lots of feelings that are a mix between friendship and devotion and romantic love, and the lines between those feelings blur. They are currently in essentially an exclusive relationship. They are not yet together.

Their dynamic is so fucking relatably queer, which I love.

In the end, the reasons that I advocate for them romantically (rather than in an exclusive QPR) are:

Edwin's current canonical feelings for Charles. I have Been In His Shoes and it is kind of a sucky place to be. I want him to experience love and romance, too, and I view Payneland as a Sold-as-a-Set do-not-separate nothing-comes-between-us monogamous unit already.

The fact that Charles so clearly already likes Edwin back. He did the hand over the heart thing! At the end of 8! Yes!!!

George and Jayden have amazing chemistry.

I just want to see them build their entire existences around each other in every sense of the world and be happy. It would bring me so much joy to see them happy and in love, because the trust and devotion they share would lend well to a beautiful and loving relationship.

I actually wrote an in-depth essay on this subject here!

I also think seeing them get together would help heal the sad little queer kid inside me that loved Destiel, lol.

Okay! What drew me to them as a ship?

They are my favourite kind of ship. Two very traumatized individuals who fit around each other's jagged edges and love each other all the more for those edges.

Edwin and Charles have been home for each other. For decades. They share every aspect of their existence and are fully comfortable together, and it's especially beautful considering that they had really lonely, short, horrible lives. They've saved each other.

Edwin wants to be safe? Charles makes him safe. Charles wants to live? He may not realize it, but Edwin is building a life after life with him.

Next, Palasaki! I do like Palasaki. I think they're a cute ship and have a lot of potential, and I would have loved to see them develop.

I'm not sure about the show being picked up again. I really hope it is (and also hope they totally sever it from Sandman). But shows that were canceled are rarely saved, and I'm not trying to get my hopes up. I think it has a chance, but I'm not letting myself hold my breath.

I think that the show would be the same if it did get picked up again. I trust this team of writers and think they have done really well with season 1, and I want to see what else they had in store during seasons 2-6.

However, I do have this fear that we'd do all this work to renew it and Payneland wouldn't be endgame. I think that would be a slap in the face to a lot of the fan base. Luckily, I am 99.9% sure they are endgame and am not that worried about this. I just have Anxiety.

[theghostinabadbook]

A detail that I always found curious in bsd is how in fifteen Dazai needs to consciously activate his ability, but in the current time of the story he doesn't. At first I just thought Dazai had trained his own ability to the point where he could keep it active all the time, but Dazai's ability doesn't really seem very important to his work in the mafia, because we only see him using No Longer Human a few times during the light novels that take place during the time he was in the Port Mafia, so I don't believe this was something trained by Dazai, but rather the effect that All Men Are Equal has on him.

We know that Fukuzawa's ability is a suppression ability that influences the abilities of ADA members, allowing the agents themselves to adjust and control their powers, so it makes sense that joining after the ADA, Dazai made No Longer Human always be activated, so he couldn't be affected by abilities attacks even if he was caught by surprise.

The fact that the agents themselves can adjust their abilities with the help of All Men Are Equall made me think about the other ADA members, and how they are affected by Fukuzawa's ability. In Yosano's flashback, it's never said that she can only heal people with fatal wounds, and when Yosano refuses to heal Tachihara's brother (who Mori says is not seriously injured) she says that she doesn't want to heal him, not that she can't, so I believe that after everything Yosano went through in the war and with Mori, she herself chose to only be able to heal people who were almost dying, so she doesn't feel like she was reducing the value of the lives of those she heals, and so that others detectives of the agency understand the value that their lives and wounds have, and don't end up like the soldiers in war.

In Kenji's fight against Tetchou, we have a flashback of a conversation between Kunikida and Atsushi, and Kunikida says that Kenji's ability is driven by his anger, the angrier he gets, the more powerful he will be, however, his hunger can calm him, and I wonder if that might have something to do with Fukuzawa's skill. Kenji is a very calm person, and Kunikida says that this prevents his monstrous strength from coming out, so creating a way to calm him down so that his ability doesn't go out of control may have been Kenji's own choice when he joined the agency.

Kunikida only using his ability in his notebook of ideals may also have been his own choice. We know how connected to his ideals Kunikida is, and he says that all of his future and ideals are written in that notebook, so it makes sense that he would want his ability, an important part of his life, to be in his notebook too. On the other hand, All Men Are Equal could be the reason why Kunikida can only create objects the size of his notebook, but I can't see a specific reason for this choice.

I don't see many ways in which Fukuzawa's ability can affect Tanizaki's Light Snow, other than limiting the area in which he can use his ability. We know that Tanizaki can be very aggressive if provoked, so the fact that his ability can only be used at a short or medium range may be to prevent him from doing more damage than necessary when angered.

I believe all of these assumptions make a lot of sense, based on what we've seen of the influence of Fukuzawa's ability on Atsushi (forbiding him from fully transforming into a tiger, and from losing his mind while using his ability) and Kyouka (allowing her to control Demon Snow without her phone), and I really hope this topic is explored at some point during the manga.

[didalexiabreakupwitholgaisback]

Ok so here goes nothing… I'm not usually one of those people who speak badly of a player of my team (Dembelé being the exception) but if this Keira thing is true… es una bajeza. We all know she wants to leave, and the club was willing to let her go for FREE in the summer. To go to a direct rival two days before the transfer window closes, leaving us a very small margin to look for a replacement of the same level? shame on her. Keira must accept that APA has to be in the starting lineup because they are the ones in the best shape. It is impossible to sit Alexia and impossible to sit Patri. We don't know the personal reason why she wants to leave so desperately, but leaving the club like this without a plan b is LOW. And, indeed, we can't judge based on a 3 second video, but her attitude since the start of the season is starting to bother me. I'm sorry but it really upsets me because even if she leaves $1m, who can we bring in so soon? this is more than just a money issue. I would rather let her go for free in the summer by a thousand times.

mira, i think this is an example of where we don't know what is happening behind the scenes, so we are letting our emotions fill in the gaps.

to me, the situation now in january is exactly the same as in august. so why did we not except 1.1 million in august to only except an amount now and to let our player go to a rival before the most important sets of champions matches? 🤔 it doesn't make sense, which is why i think we are missing some crucial context for what is happening.

personally, i have no problem with keira wanting to go home. she communicated that she wanted to leave in the summer. if barça did not plan for it, then that's more so an issue with the club and its planning than with keira. it's not a situation that keira just showed up to the club after new years' and said she wanted to leave. everyone knew that she wanted to go back home since the summer. it's just the timing that sucks!

but yes, i think that's exactly what we do. i *highly* doubt both keira and ingrid leave. so we move ingrid to have a polivalente role as cb and pivot as necessary. but also, i think sydney schertenleib plays more of a role in the midfield as patri's successor too.

anyway, let's see what happens. i think there are too many unknowns to fully speculate! vamos a tranquilizarnos. ya veremos qué va a pasar. 🙏

[lara4eclipze]

» I Miss Us

sypnosis: lara was never one to be in situationships nor talking stages, she claimed it was stupid and would only end up with ones heart broken or yearning — yet here she was missing you her only situationship

warning: angst, situationship, hurt no comfort, swearing, ghosting, italics for flashbacks, etc

talks: I'm so sorry for those requests i haven't written yet BUT trust i am gonna write some and release them maybe today and tomorrow!, thank you for your patience ^^

taglist: @ohmyhaely @nyssalvr @vrtualstar @c-yerim @jellaaa @nakylvr @chuugetmesohigh

lara stared at her phone, at your conversation to be specific — it's been two months since you two have even chatted, in lara's opinion is the longest two months of her life

lara used to get excited just staying up and chatting with you — sneaking out of the dorms just to have drinks or eat out with you, it didn't matter that she could've been caught by her management — what mattered to her was you

the door to the kats shared house creeks louder than lara would've wanted — her eyes adjust to the dark environment only to make out a figure standing near the kitchen, their leader sophia

"where have you been?!, you know i have been worried sick? i called everyone including your mom!" sophia screams at lara, maybe for the first time in a while — atleast lara wants to pretend like so

in reality lara has been on sophias nerves ever since she started to talking to you — she always left without telling anyone she would be lazy in practices just so that she can chat with you

"go to your room — and whoever it is you are meeting up with, stop it lara you're getting too distracted" sophia mutters trying to keep her calm demeanor "stop telling me what to do" lara snaps back

"do it or ill tell the management team" sophia threatened, it all just stopped from that moment on — lara had to choose between her needs and wants, she walked silently to her shared room fidgeting with her phone

she debated whether to chat you or listen to sophia yet as much as she hated what she was gonna do she did it

she ghosted you.

the first week was confusing to say the least — lara who always chatted with you through every platform was now getting cold?, her usual energetic response to your chats were now replaced with "yeah" or "okay"

the second week was weird, lara had took almost 2 - 3 days just to respond to you, you double texted you had even called her a few times yet it always ended with her giving you a honestly lame excuse

the third to fourth week hurted the most, lara had fully ghosted you, she didn't respond at all, you knew she was active on her socials i mean she posted every week — she always saw your texts she just chose not to open them, you got desperate for even a drop of her attention, it got so bad to the point you tried contacting her other mutual friends

by the second month you had started to accept what had happened — you didn't wait for a notification from her user anymore, you didnt expect a miracle to happen

lara breaths heavily as she back reads on your chats — it took all of her courage not to call you during all of this, she tried and tried making herself believe that you were just a waste of time that you were just a distraction

yet every little thing makes her remember you, late night trips?, your favorite food, even your scent — it all comes back to you

maybe you were meant for eachother just not in this time not in this moment — she sighs massaging her temples, her lips pressed into a thin line as longing creeps into her

she types then deletes again, types and then deletes — maybe it was too long?, too casual? — lara over analyzed her text to you, until she just typed something simple

a notification pops up on your phone, it was 2 am who would be awake in such hour?

my laru♡: hi, how are you?

your heart sinks, everything you've worked so hard for has come down to this moment, moving on, crying even denial that she ghosted you

y/n: I'm good.

lara's mood shifts, you really are gone — the period on the end of the sentence and the proper grammar, screamed over her

my laru♡: I'm sorry, i miss us

you wanted to respond saying you do too, you missed hours and hours of taking with her — laughing at the stupidest things ever, god even that stupid nickname she had in your chats

y/n: me too.

yet as reality dawns on lara, its all a sick cycle — she could never date you, because of her career, she just wanted to pretend that it didnt matter just for a few more minutes

[fogged--mirror]

I am so normal about the two Jesters in the kingdom's card deck! (owen and clown). Rewritten lore analysis time!!!

Real long analysis thing under the cut, you are warned. /Some "spoilers" for both of their povs/

Funny/non analysing - both jesters have a very specific addiction that haunts them every day they are on the server (owen - trial chambers, clown - enchanting/grinding)

More serious lore stuff under the cut!

Less silly - their relationships to the kingdom is really interesting.

Surprisingly it's more similar than expected. Owen has a high position in the kingdom (royal advisor, jester /and accountant ig lol/). He is happy but feels bad after he is disregarded by the king in some way (listening to clown more etc). Was going to betray the kingdom due to this but after king's death decided to fully commit to being a part of it and help yellow.

Until something happened erm.. So it turns out his full plan was mostly set after thinking of killing the king. He wants to tear the kingdom apart (reason? hell if I know man) and his taunts against the other factions are somehow probably part of it (disband the kingdom and make the server hate them because yellow operates in - you mess with one you get the whole pack angry at you, making it difficult to like be friends with other factions?). The blue vs yellow conflict was started by him, the bridge thing was also by him.

Clown also has a high position (archmage, kinda jester). He likes his title but feels bad about being disregarded in some ways (example - Owen being more of a jester than he is so he kinda started hating him off the bat after they first met). Initially even before joining planned to betray, but after everything red has done committed to being more serious about helping his faction.

And he actually stuck to that! He fought with tr!Mocha for Ros and for everything he has done against the kingdom and won. He doesn't have anything against his faction members, tr!Sneeg and tr!Ros are his closest allies. It does not mean his loyalty to the entire kingdom but he most likely will stay if they do. He considered wiping all of green faction after tr!Mocha's death if they were going to retaliate against Ros after all.

As a character both of them are evil creatures who greatly enjoy violence and doing things for their own fun. (The whole red team joining day, Clown immediately being down to kill Pili, Owen setting up a murder plot and poking other faction being like "dang I wonder why they hate me" after). Sure they do care about the kingdom but violence is a need they always will partake in regardless of what happens after.

For both of them consequences don't exist. Owen doesn't care for his own death and loves instigating others. (it bites the whole faction back but dude does not care). And for Clown - he is capable enough to defend himself and those he cares about. Owen is all bark and no bite and Clown is all bite and no bark essentially lol.

Relationships with their kingdom members!! This is when they start to differ significantly

Ros

With Owen - he noticed the change that happened (being more murderous) and was against it at first, not fully understanding what led to it. He still thinks that Ros who wants to kill people is not her. He is wary of Aimsey and Ros's friendship and wants to make sure she is still loyal to the kingdom. His first priority is the kingdom and it's prosperity above his friendships. I personally don't think he cares all that much for tr!Ros, he saw her being close to tr!Aimsey and saw it as a liability and wanted to drag her back to the kingdom (or away from it from today's stream idk man what is wrong with him)

With Clown thought - he saw the change and was encouraging if Ros truly wanted to go all the way with it. He doesn't exactly care if her murderous nature is truly her, he would just support her if she wants to kill, he is excited for her but doesn't push her to it if it makes sense. He was surprised that she killed Aimsey or the falling out if yellow and blue faction. But still his first priority is Ros. Despite being loyal to the kingdom he values his friendship with her significantly more. If Ros straight up leaves after the shit tr!Owen pulled there is like 90% chance tr!Clown would ban tr!Owen off the server and join Ros in wherever she goes next.

Foolish and Sneeg

This is a fun one. Two people closest to them (for Clown after Ros but shh)

Foolish and Owen - King and royal advisor! Gonna be honest probably tr!Owen's closest friendship in the kingdom. For good reason but still, he respects his king and holds him in high regard. But also he knows the king is swayed easily and wants to reel him in most of the time to focus only on their faction instead of the whole server. Tr!Foolish is incredibly skilled in solving things diplomatically or lowering the tension in the room. Tr!Owen is a polar opposite, he wants conflict and chaos and due to tr!Foolish's nature he pushes him to be less forgiving.

Sneeg and Clown - Theeese guys. They are pretty similar in their grinding addiction so they get along well and descended into banter after the alchemy grind. Most recently I think tr!Sneeg is tr!Clown's other closest friend. He asked for his help for if the aftermath of the fight with tr!Mocha went wrong and trusts him more than the other kingdom members. Honestly if tr!Ros left I think it could drag tr!Sneeg to be with the two of them on wherever tr!Clown and tr!Ros go next (please please please I would be so sad if not, Clown please bring a guy you got divorced from with you and Ros on the "Owen got what he wanted so we are leaving" field trip please)

Clown and Owen's relationship with each other!

Despite barely interacting (Clown stop eating bottles please log in and hang out with people once I am begging on my knees). They are basically each others least favourite person in the kingdom.

The kingdom of fools is known for their loyalty and protectiveness of each other, it's basically their whole thing, if you beat up one there is a 90% chance the others will hold a grudge too.

Except Clown and Owen. Sure if Owen got killed Clown would most likely kill those who did if the kingdom wants it, not for tr!Owen but for the faction (or the love of killing people for fun yknow). And if someone is mean to tr!Clown tr!Owen would just instigate with them or don't help, let's be so real.

Their fundamental differences are - the power they possess (Clown's is the physical ability to protect himself + being not that involved in the drama, mostly just going along with his faction, Owen's is mostly his words and influence in the kingdom despite being the weakest in terms of physical strength). And the relationship to the kingdom. Owen puts it above personal relationships and Clown is the complete opposite.

tr!Clown's goals are - Protect people he cares about first and everything else after, he would not care if the kingdom disbanded tomorrow, he would just grab the two people he likes and don't ever look back, there is not much there for him. He barely cares for control over the whole kingdom if at all. Yes he likes bloodshed he can cause by slaying the enemies of the kingdom but he can do the same if it wasn't there. He doesn't care for anything other than the people he holds close and he wants to do his best to protect them. He is chaotic, yes, but it is a heavily controlled chaos, murder is fun for him but I doubt he would do what tr!Owen does when trying to cause it. He doesn't really care about mind games and is the first to jump to violence, it's the thing he knows best and can use to his advantage easiest.

tr!Owen's goals are most likely (I don't know what this man is planning so I am taking a best guess I have) - Power and control over the kingdom above the people in it (if he has to get rid of those who don't listen to his words blindly - he will, no hesitation). Or just chaos he can cause to have his fun. He is not weighted down by his relationships with others. Yes, he appears friendly to his faction but he is not that close to them. He doesn't care for death either and can do whatever he wants with no downside, his loyalty to the kingdom is mostly him playing cards he was given. If the kingdom disbanded tomorrow he would lose a lot I think. His strongest suit is his words and manipulation and by god does he use them.

They started out more or less the same (only different in the weapons they use) but it changed completely after a certain time. Two jesters in the kingdom's deck! One is loyal, the other wants to tear it down.

\silly rambles part - Also if they ever teamed up it would be so over for the server (a person with nothing to lose who would be extremely down to taunt anyone without a care for what comes after. And a person who wants to protect those he cares about and who could back it up if it's ever needed by destroying anyone who fell for a taunt). This has a REALLY LOW, next to 0 chance of happening but I am begging on my knees for it to happen, it would be so funny, jester duo come back to me I miss you.....\

\realistically tr!Owen kinda does not need close allies to get what he wants and tr!Clown cares for tr!Ros and would beat tr!Owen into paste because he was mean to her before ever trusting him enough to be protective over him lmao\

Thas kinda it idk how to end it. Erm subscribe for more bangers, I am usually this normal about characters who barely interact on a cube smp yerp.

[lightlyblooming]

Allowed to Live

Pairing: Rio Vidal x Reader

Summary: Death decides to give the reader a second chance.

Words: 893

A sickly feeling churned to life in my gut as I stared down at my own body laid out on the ground before me.

There was something uncanny to it. The person I’d seen in the mirror every day was stretched across the dirt-covered forest floor, looking like just another casualty of battle. Too many open wounds to count littered the body. The largest gashes still leaked blood, adding to the muddy pool of darkening blood around the body. The eyes were still recognizably mine, but held none of the shine I was used to. The chest I had known to fill and move with breaths stayed completely still. 

The pain of all those wounds still echoed in the back of my mind. I could almost feel the unnerving warmth of blood as it grew around me. The icy fear was still fresh, swimming around in my gut.

I followed the body’s gaze and turned my attention to the sky. 

The inky black night, framed by the silhouette of towering trees, caused a deep tranquility to wash over me. The scattering of stars seemed engrained in my soul. The quiet companions to my final moments as a living, breathing person. I wished I had taken more time to learn the constellations, if only so that I could thank each of them for being there with me.

I looked back down, but my eyes caught on a shadowy figure standing in the treeline before my attention could fully return to the cooling corpse.

There was something oddly familiar about it. More comforting than any blanket of night could be. More distant than the array of stars. More familiar than the rise and fall of my own chest. More foreign than the name of those constellations that hung over my head.

Leaves crunched as the cloaked figure walked out of the deepened shadows of the forest. With every step, they grew closer, and my familiarity grew deeper. They brushed back their hood, and it was only then when I could put a name to that familiarity.

“Rio,” I breathed.

“Death,” she corrected, her voice a balm to my soul.

Death.

It was only a matter of time before I met her. Truly met her. I’d sent more people than I could count into her embrace. I’d bargained and begged for her to leave me alone and, for the most part, she had.

Death wore the face of Rio, a woman I had grown to know--and love--throughout my life. That was a mercy, I supposed. Death, my silent companion. Death, the only certainty there was in life. Death, walking hand-in-hand with Rio, the woman who had shown me how to live. Rio, the woman who had shown me what it meant to love so fiercely that it ached. Rio, the woman that had entwined herself into my heart so thoroughly that I feared it’d shatter if she tried to untangle herself.

“It’s been a while,” Rio said, her slow walk coming to an end at the head of my corpse. A small smile fluttered at the corner of her lips, but it didn’t stay for long.

“Too long,” I said, my voice far softer than I’d intended. I had no desire to correct it. There was no use in pretending. Not in front of Rio. Not in front of Death. “I missed you.”

Rio laughed, the sound hollow. “There’s a less dramatic way to get my attention.”

“That wouldn’t be as fun.”

Rio’s expression darkened. “No.” 

She looked down at my corpse, going so still that I nearly thought she’d turned into one of the trees looming behind her. Her stillness washed over me, turning my mind quiet. In the silence, I noticed the aching silence in my chest. The emptiness of my lungs, the absence of my thudding heart. 

Slowly, Rio’s eyes lifted to mine. A sorrow swam in the depth of her expression. Her pain hurt more than any of those wounds had.

She held my eyes as shadows started to wind their way around my corpse. Wandering, searching, caressing. I searched her eyes, trying to decipher what she was thinking, what she was doing. My muscles grew tight. I wondered why it was taking so long, why I hadn’t moved on into the empty darkness of the afterlife.

“I’ll call you for drinks next time, yeah?” she teased.

I blinked, my eyebrows furrowing. I opened my mouth, but before any sound could come out she snapped her fingers and the world fell away from around me.

For a split second, I was in that nothingness. There was nothing and no one.

Then, there was searing pain.

My bones, my blood, my flesh. It burned stronger than anything else ever had. The pain turned into a white-hot knife that cut through me.

I gasped for air, but my lungs protested. They refused to move. They refused to draw in that life-giving air. 

I tried to scream, to beg for help, to beg for Death. 

Darkness pressed in around my consciousness, that inkiness once again washing over me. I braced myself to fall back into it, but my lungs gave in first. Air rushed in, expanding my lungs, causing my chest to rise and fall. My chest ached, likely from a combination of broken ribs and atrophying muscles, but I was breathing. 

I was alive.