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sunniskyies · 4 months

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𝐖𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐋𝐢𝐥𝐢𝐞𝐬 || 𝐏𝐞𝐫𝐜𝐲 𝐉𝐚𝐜𝐤𝐬𝐨𝐧 𝐨𝐧𝐞-𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐭

𝐑𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭: - 𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: You, a child of Demeter, have powers that unfortunately go out of control whenever emotions are involved. And don’t think Percy doesn’t notice !! 𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: book!Percy Jackson x Demeter!fem!reader 𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: Bad grammar today 𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐬: Fluff with a dash of fluff 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 1.2k 𝐀/𝐍: I’m back at it again !! This was supposed to be a blurb, but ofc I got carried away. Pffsh

You're sitting on the edge of the lake, your fingers aimlessly running through the water. The gentle breeze plays with your hair, sending strands dancing over your face.

Under the water, you're manipulating native algae to creep over the pebbles. As the child of Demeter -and a head councillor no less- it's your responsibility to keep the plants at camp in good health. And even though you're off-duty right now, you find yourself tending to them.

You almost don't notice when someone approaches you from behind.

"Hey there, Petals," a familiar voice says.

You whip around to see Percy's sun-kissed face grinning at you. Your heart flutters at the sight.

"Hey Perce," you try to say, but it comes out more like a squeak. This just makes Percy's smirk widen.

Gaze suddenly averted from yours, Percy's eyebrows raise in surprise. You turn back to the lake to see what he's looking at. Heat rushes to your cheeks when you realise that around your fingers, half a dozen water lily buds have sprouted in the water.

You quickly pull your hand out, hoping that Percy isn't thinking about what a loser you are. You're used to your powers manifesting unexpectedly, but gods it's embarrassing when it calls you out in front of people.

You can't bring yourself to look at him, eyes averted even when he sits down right next to you. You busy yourself by clearing the lilies, causing them to brown and wither beneath your touch.

"Stop that, they look lovely," Percy interjects, quickly snatching the last remaining bud from your murderous grasp. He holds it delicately, stripping the leaf from the long stem.

You're still avoiding him, face flushed pink. So Percy rests a fingertip beneath your chin and turns you himself. His hands are tough and calloused from years of sword fighting, but he feels warm and gentle when he touches you.

With a lopsided smile, he slips the bud behind your ear. His fingers brush your temple on the way, and to your absolute horror, the bud blooms into a full white lotus.

"Oh my gods," you groan, burying your red face in your arms. You hear Percy laugh, a gentle thing that sounds like a breath of wind.

You're pretty sure everybody at Camp knows you have a massive crush on the black-haired boy. Unfortunately for you, unlike other girls, you don't have the luxury of hiding your feelings. You have little to no grasp on what your magic chooses to do when exposed to your stupid feelings. Especially not when Percy Jackson is involved.

You must be the most pitiful camp councillor Camp Half-Blood has ever seen.

"Hey, don't be embarrassed," he murmurs, his voice now so, so close to your ear. "It's just a flower."

You peek up at him, hoping your pupils aren't too dilated. "Yeah, and magic that blossoms every time I do anything," you mumble. Percy gives you the sweetest, most understanding smile known to man. You can't believe he hasn't run away in repulsion yet.

"I think it's cute," he laughs affectionately.

Your mind flashes back to a few weeks ago. You and a large group of campers were sparring on the large grass field. When Percy stepped forward for his turn and you were met face-to-face, the shorn grass around your feet sprung up into long, grassy seed heads. The entire field had turned into a paddock in seconds, so tall it obscured your mortified expression. But while the rest of the campers were laughing mercilessly, Percy's intent gaze through the grass-heads was soft and considerate.

Your breath catches at the identical look in his eyes now, deep and green and all-encompassing. He drops it for a second, looking down to gently grasp one of your hands. He looks at it for a moment, soft curiosity etched on his face as he traces circles onto your palm and wrist.

In the wake of his finger's touch, blossom petals sprout up from your skin. He smiles at the reaction.

"It's true then?" He hums, syrupy eyes meeting yours as he presses a soft kiss to your knuckles. You know that vines have started growing throughout your hair, petals and leaves adorning your locks until your hair resembles that of a willow tree's canopy.

"Is it?" He murmurs when you fail to answer, spare hand reaching up to brush a curtain of willow leaves from your face. Hesitant doe eyes look back at him.

You still don't respond, words stuck like sap in your throat. Percy lets out another breathy laugh.

"You do know that you're not the only one with uncontrollable powers, right?" He grins. Then his hand is back on your face, this time cupping your cheek. He gently turns you head to stare out at the lake.

Where the water was calm and still minutes earlier, the lake's edge now laps eagerly at both of your feet. Above you, a storm has rolled in. Soft droplets have begun to speckle your skin, and you realise with caught breath that they feel like warm kisses.

You look back at him, his gaze having never left you. "Is this you?" You breathe.

Percy shrugs nonchalantly. "Yes and no. I can't really help it," he grins sheepishly. "Water tends to respond to me, whether I want it to or not."

You can't help but laugh, your worries and embarrassment melting. That sure sounds familiar.

The rain continues to fall, surrounding the two of you in a gentle mist before growing into a steady patter. The storm's growth is mimicked in his eyes, unidentifiable emotions swelling in the green depths.

Percy leans closer, his lips now just a breath away from yours. "You know," he says, his voice barely above a whisper, "I think our powers are trying to tell us something."

Your heart pounds in your chest as you meet his gaze. The vines in your hair grow longer, rooting you in place and winding tendrils around the places where Percy holds you. He doesn't pull away though, instead putting his other hand around your neck and letting the foliage tie you to him.

He doesn't look at this curse like others do, instead leaning into it with fascination. At this moment, you realise that maybe your powers aren't a curse after all. They're a part of who you are, just like the water that bends to Percy's touch.

Your heart is pounding in your chest, and you wonder if Percy can feel it through the vines that tether you together. You comforted by the knowledge that Percy’s heart must be doing the same thing anyway, as the lake is far from quiet now, the waves rolling in strong and fast. You’re both surrounded by the churning water, but you can't tear your eyes away from each other. You finally distinguish the emotion in his eyes, as you recognize the hunger in yourself as well.

Unable to wait any longer, Percy finally closes the distance between you, his lips meeting yours gently but so eagerly. His thumb drowsily pulls at your lips, teasing your mouth open. You lean into his attention for once, hands curling around his dark hair.

"You have no idea how long I've wanted to do that," he murmurs against you, barely pausing before kissing you again.

You remained locked in a tight embrace for only the Gods to see, your bodies drenched and overgrown. And around you in the passionate water, hundreds upon hundreds of water lilies have sprouted.

#ph☆ebe's scribbles #percy jackson x reader #percy jackson fic #one shot #percy jackson fanfic #percy jackson x you #percy jackson x y/n #percy jackson #fanfic #fanfiction

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theambitiouswoman · 11 months

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Supplements & Vitamins

Here's a list of some of the most commonly used supplements and their benefits. Please remember that while supplements can be beneficial for certain people, everyones nutritional needs are different. It's always a good idea to consult with a specialist before adding any new supplements to your routine, as individual needs may vary.

Multivitamin: Provides a range of essential vitamins and minerals to support overall health and fill potential nutrient gaps in your diet.

Omega-3 Fatty Acids: Promote heart health, brain function, and reduce inflammation. Typically derived from fish oil or algae.

Vitamin D: Supports bone health, immune function, and may have a positive impact on mood. It's commonly obtained through sun exposure, but supplements can be useful, especially in winter or for those with limited sun exposure.

Probiotics: Help promote a healthy gut microbiome, aiding digestion, nutrient absorption, and immune function.

Magnesium: Important for muscle and nerve function, bone health, and energy production. It may also help with relaxation and sleep.

B vitamins: Help convert food into energy, support brain function, and maintain healthy hair, skin, and nails.

Vitamin C: Boosts immune function, acts as an antioxidant, supports collagen production, and aids in iron absorption.

Zinc: Essential for immune function, wound healing, and cell division. It also supports normal growth and development during pregnancy, childhood, and adolescence.

Iron: Required for red blood cell production and oxygen transport. Iron deficiency can lead to anemia and fatigue, but it's essential to get iron levels checked before supplementing.

Calcium: Crucial for bone health and muscle function. It's often combined with vitamin D for better absorption.

Coenzyme Q10 (CoQ10): Plays a vital role in energy production within cells and acts as an antioxidant. It may benefit heart health and cellular energy metabolism.

Curcumin (Turmeric extract): Possesses anti-inflammatory and antioxidant properties, potentially supporting joint health and cognitive function.

Ashwagandha: An adaptogenic herb that may help reduce stress, promote relaxation, and support cognitive function.

Green Tea Extract: Contains antioxidants and may support cardiovascular health, weight management, and cognitive function.

Glucosamine: Commonly used for joint health and may help alleviate symptoms of osteoarthritis.

Chondroitin: Often taken alongside glucosamine, it may help reduce joint pain and improve joint mobility.

Probiotics for Gut Health: Certain strains of probiotics can help restore and maintain a healthy balance of gut bacteria, supporting digestion and immune function.

Melatonin: A hormone that regulates sleep-wake cycles, melatonin supplements can help with insomnia or jet lag.

Vitamin E: An antioxidant that supports immune function and may help protect against cellular damage.

Ginseng: An adaptogenic herb that may help increase energy, reduce stress, and support cognitive function.

Prebiotics: These are non-digestible fibers that promote the growth of beneficial gut bacteria, supporting gut health and digestion.

Magnesium: In addition to its previous benefits, magnesium may help reduce muscle cramps, improve mood, and promote relaxation.

Probiotics for Vaginal Health: Certain strains of probiotics can help maintain a healthy balance of vaginal flora, reducing the risk of infections.

Cranberry Extract: Often used for urinary tract health, cranberry extract may help prevent urinary tract infections.

Resveratrol: Found in grapes and berries, resveratrol has antioxidant properties and may support heart health and longevity.

L-theanine: An amino acid commonly found in green tea, L-theanine may promote relaxation, improve focus, and reduce anxiety.

#vitamins #supplements #health tips #healthy diet #health is wealth #healthy living #health and wellness #healthy lifestyle #health #clean girl #glow up tips #level up journey #wellness

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tanuki-kimono · 7 months

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[Haircare during Edo period], handy illustration by Sayuri Sasai.

As time went, Edo hairstyles became more and more intricated. Hairdos were set using plenty of styling products, like 梳き油 sukiabura (creamy pomade) or 付け油 tsukeabura (solid pomade). Many recipes existed, varying in bases (like 椿油 tsubakiabura/camellia oil, ��種油nataneabura/canola oil, 木蝋 mokurô/sumac wax etc.) and fragrances used.

Once set, hairstyles did not fell apart easily, but the oils used meant hair easily caught dust or dander - hence why people used tenugui or other kinds of hoods to protect their hair (see those past notes 1 / 2):

In the past, washing one's hair was usually done once or twice per month (in the meantime, to relieve itchy scalp, people often used hairpins to scratch without unraveling hairdo!).

Dirt and wax were washed off using hot water and shampoo made from dried 布海苔 funori (a type of red algae) and うどん粉 udonko (wheat flour). You can see here an attempt at recreating the mix.

Then, hair was allowed to dry naturally (taking care of not catching a cold in freezing weather!).

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dreamgrlarchive · 1 year

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High Maintenance 101

Prissy Girl Beauty Regimens 🎀

my prissy girl guide to beauty services and building a beauty lifestyle that fits you 💗

Skincare:

Essential Skincare Routine ❤︎︎

twice daily, in the morning and at night

daytime: gentle cleanser, toner, serum, eye cream, moisturizer, SPF

prep and protect skin

nighttime: double cleansing with oil and cleanser, exfoliation, treatments, moisturizer

wash away the day and help skin accept treatments and actives during your beauty sleep

products will change depending on skin type and goals, but sequence will more or less stay the same

Face Masks + Treatments ❤︎︎

Face Masks -

typically done at home 1-3x/week

clay, gel, mud, cream, liquid

my fav masks at home:

aha + bha liquid mask by the ordinary: a literal overhaul of my pores. it’s refining and helps reduce texture and hyperpigmentation. 1-2 x/week

korean modeling mask: i use this after doing everything in my routine. it’s super cooling and smooths my skin out. the low temp of the mask reduces flushing of my skin and helps the steps in my routine absorb better. 2-3 x/week

Treatments -

done either 1-3x/week and/or exclusively at night

consumer grade Retinols, AHAs, BHAs at high strength

little extra things i like to use to enhance my routine:

gua sha, ice pack, rose quartz roller, however often i choose

Facials ❤︎︎

done every 1-2 months by licensed estheticians

often includes exfoliation and extraction

Classic Facial: cleanse, extract, massage, moisturize

HydraFacials: extracts pores while infusing serums to boost skin’s vitamin and nutrient content

dry, dehydrated skin

Microdermabrasion: microabrasive tool removes outermost, textured, damaged layer of skin using suction to reveal a smooth and refined new layer of skin

sun damaged, aged, textured skin or skin with hyperpigmentation

Chemical Peel: application of medical grade AHA, BHA, Lactic Acid, Fruit Enzymes, or Retinol to peel away top layers of skin over the course of 1-2 weeks

pore refining, brightening, and anti-aging

after care is crucial. skin will be peeling and sensitivity to sun is increased. SPF MUST be used. it’s heavily advised that clients stay home for the first few days.

HydroJelly Facial: facial made of electrolytes, algae, organic white grain oat flour, rice flour, and white willow bark powder. leaving your skin hydrated, plump, and nourished. forms a vacuum-like seal that compresses facial contours.

there are 25 different hydrojelly pro masks for most skin concerns you may have, check here

More Facials ❤︎︎

Contouring Facial: sculpting, tightening, and lifting of facial muscles

LED Facial: uses LED light to soothe inflammation, aiding in acne healing and prevention

Vampire Facial: plumps skin and improves wrinkles by extracting blood, removing its platelets, then either re-injecting it into the skin or applying it topically

Diamond File Facial: finely ground diamonds resurface skin by filing to improve dark spots

Glass Skin Botox: multiple tiny botox injections just below the surface of the skin. alleviate fine lines, redness, texture, and more achieving glass skin

AquaGold Facial: microinjections that combine vampire facial methods, hyaluronic acid, botox, stem cells, antioxidants, vitamins, peptides, etc. improves fine lines, wrinkles, pores, pigmentation, acne scarring, dryness, tone, texture, skin elasticity, and more

cite

Hair:

Hair Care ❤︎︎

Wash Routines:

curly textured: wash and condition every 2-3 weeks, deep condition every 1-2 weeks

straight: wash and condition every 2-3 days, deep condition every 2-3 weeks

Styling ︎❤︎︎

Hair should have a style everyday! At home hairstyling is limitless and really depends on your taste and lifestyle. The everyday woman does her own her once every 1-4 weeks using natural hair products, heat, or other tools.

Professional Stylists:

hair is styled every 1-3 months: uses heat to straighten or curl, extensions to lengthen and add volume, shears to maintain/attain a shape and length

trim ends: every 6-8 weeks

hair color: touched up roughly every 6-8 weeks (depending on how fast your hair is growing and how fast your color will fade)

Silk Press:

after a clarifying wash and deep conditioning, natural hair is straightened using flat iron and/or pressing comb, then usually curled in feathers or pin curls to preserve the style

lasts 3-4 weeks depending on maintenance

preserved by wrapping hair at night, keep hands out of hair, and using a wide toothed comb only

can be further styled with different kind of rollers, or with pin curls

Braids:

afrocentric hairstyles typically done to protect hair while maintaining beauty

lasts 3-8 weeks

styles include knotless braids, faux locs, stitch braids, french braids, etc

Extensions:

hair added to natural hair to enhance length or volume

can be done at home with patience and proper materials

sew-in extensions: (my personal fav) 1-2 months

your natural hair gets braided down flush to your scalp and the bundles are sewn on by the wefts in a flat pattern typically with a section of hair left out to cover the wefts $100-600

microlinks: up to 4 months

i-tip extension is added to hair using micropliers, clippers and loop tool. takes far longer than most extension methods but looks the absolute most natural $500-1000

tape-in extensions: up to a year, touch ups every 4-6 weeks

medical grade tape is used to attach extensions to small sections of hair $200-400

clip-in extensions: 3-6 months

extensions are clipped on by the wefts. the hair itself can last up to six months, but it’s not recommended to sleep, shower, or swim with the extensions in $50-100

Natural Styles:

all last roughly 1-2 weeks at most. allowing hair to completely DRY is crucial for these styles. your natural hair can be further changed in styles like buns, puffs, etc once dry

natural hair essentials: scalp oil, leave in conditioner, detangling brush, wide tooth comb, curling cream, styling gel, edge control and edge brush

wash n’ go

wash and detangle, then use leave in conditioner to keep hair moist. oil on the scalp and ends is recommended for growth and healthy ends

bantu knots

a traditionally african style where the hair is cleanly sectioned (usually parted in a cute pattern) and twisted into knots. style can be worn just like this or taken down for curls

braid/twist out

a specific pattern of curls is achieved after hair is twisted or braided with curl preserving products. end result depends on how big your twists or braids are

roller set

hair is sprayed with water and curl cream applied before roller of your choice is added. hair is left to dry usually overnight for springy well formed curls

Brows and Lashes:

Brow Shaping ❤︎︎

in salon or at home

Waxing - every 3 weeks

Threading- every 2-3 weeks

Razor Shaping - weekly

Brow Enhancement ❤︎︎

Tinting - monthly

can be done at home or by pro in the salon

Microblading - every 1-3 years + annual touch ups, exclusively professional work

cosmetic tattooing using a manual tool with nearly invisible hair-like needles to inject pigment in brows to create your desired brow look

Lash Enhancements ❤︎︎

*done exclusively by professionals

Lifts - every 6 weeks

basically a perm for your lashes to curl them semi-permanently for lashes to appear longer

Lash Extensions - new set every 6-8 weeks, fill ins every 2-3 weeks depending on quality and style

false individual strands of lashes glued to natural lashes to create semi-permanent length and/or volume

lash baths: wet lashes and apply a small amount of gentle cleanser or a “lash bath” to lashes. cleanse lashes and eyelids for about 10 seconds. hold a towel under your eye and use a nozzle bottle to flush soap and bacteria from lashes then dry with a disposable lint free towel. finish by brushing your lashes with a spoolie. daily.

Lash Styles:

Classic: one lash on each fan, thin lashes

Volume: fluffier lashes with more lashes on each fan

Hybrid: uses classic and volume lashes to make an alternated look

Russian: volume lashes made with very thin individuals, 5-6 extensions per natural lash, fanned out look

DIY Lash Extensions - lasts about a week (sometimes longer)

lash fragments or individual wisps are glued either under the lashes or on the lash line. KISS Falscara is a product that makes this concept simple and easy

Nails:

all these services can be done at home with the proper materials and KNOWLEDGE

Classic Manicure ❤︎︎

every 1-2 weeks

nail service that consists of soaking hands in warm soapy water then drying them. nails are trimmed, filed, and buffed. cuticles are pushed back before applying nail polish (base coat, color, top coat), then finally cuticle oil is applied.

nails can be enhanced with rhinestones, glitter, or charms and attached with uv gel or nail glue

my fav styles are pink, cream, white, black and any french tip using those colors

Pedicure ❤︎︎

every 2-4 weeks

sister to the classic manicure, but can be upgraded depending on materials. steps are similar to manicure, except feet are scrubbed and exfoliated before feet are washed and dried to apply nail color

regular polish, acrylic, or gel can be used on toenails

Gel or Shellac Mani ❤︎︎

every 2-3 weeks

same process as the classic manicure, but traditional nail polish is replaced with uv base coat, gel or CND Shellac polish, then uv top coat that’s cured in a UV or LED lamp

longer lasting and more strong/3d than classic mani and is typically removed by soaking in acetone

Apres Gel-X Nails ❤︎︎

every 2-3 weeks

my personal fav at home nails using the artme yoko matsuda nails. after doing a classic mani sans polish, you apply a dehydrator and primer to prep nail for gel. then you apply builder gel to your natural nail and cure. then you apply that same builder to the nail extension after etching it using an electric drill or acetone. marry the gel to your nail and cure. then just shape to your liking and top with uv top coat. tutorial here

Acrylic Nails ❤︎︎

every 2-3 weeks, nails are fully grown out after 6 weeks

manicure done with liquid monomer and acrylic powder to build and extend natural nail, then polished with color or just a top coat if desired

Russian Mani ❤︎︎

every 4-5 weeks

essentially a gel manicure, but more invasive. the eponychium is snipped away so polish can be applied more closely and flush to the cuticle. this aids in visuals and longevity

service is seen as risky because the skin is more susceptible to fungal or bacterial infection. this is actually how i do my nails at home.

Body:

Bathing ❤︎︎

2x daily

self explanatory, we all know how to bathe. i have other posts that talk about my shower and bath routines.

use a gentle cleanser then a scented body wash to complement perfume and smell fresh all day.

if needed, you can use body soaps with actives like aha, bha or retinol to exfoliate or treat skin at night

exfoliation - 2-3x/week. using scrubs, loofahs, bath brushes, etc.

Hair Removal ❤︎︎

shaving - 2-3x/week

waxing - every 3-5 weeks

sugaring - monthly

ipl device - a device that uses light therapy to slowly destroy hair follicles and unwanted pigment in skin. i use mine after every 5-6 shaves but i could really use it more often.

Vajacial ❤︎︎

1-2x/month

a “facial” for your lady area

the esthetician will first wax, then cleanse and apply an enzyme exfoliant. then they extract any blackheads or ingrown hairs from the area before applying a soothing mask usually in the jelly form.

Moisture and Hydration ❤︎︎

body cream or lotion - daily right after bathing to hydrate skin

body oil - daily to seal in moisture and protect skin from debris and dryness

masks - weekly to address particular skin concerns

ex. when i was having eczema flare ups on my back, i used a dead sea mud mask every 1-2 weeks to help treat it

done at home or at spa

glycolic, clay, mud, salicylic, etc.

Enhancement Procedures:

the goal is to look younger and balance facial features. all these services are exclusively done by professionals usually in a medspa and are widely considered luxury.

Botox ❤︎︎

every 6-8 months; between brows, smile lines, outer corners of eyes, etc

discourages muscle movement to reduce wrinkles

Lifts ❤︎︎

lasts about 10 years; face, neck, brow, eyelids

skin is lifted to desired look, then excess skin is removed

Fillers ︎❤︎︎

every 6-12 months; under-eye, lips, jawline, wrinkle sites, cheekbones

injects acids (usually naturally occurring) like Hyaluronic Acid and Calcium Hydroxylapatite to add volume to your face

Body Contouring ❤︎︎

every 2-4 months until desired results are achieved

non invasive liposuction to achieve desired physique

CoolSculpting - cryolipolysis freezes fat cells for the body to the metabolize and and remove them

SculpSure - essentially the same as CoolSculpting, but uses heat and laser technology to destroy fat cells

Laser Hair Removal ❤︎︎

every 5-6 weeks; bikini, underarms, legs, arms

touch ups done every 1-2 years

hair growth is inhibited by exposing follicles to light at frequencies that kill them

Building the Regimen 🗒️💕:

when making appointments with your “glam squad” you can stagger your services by week depending on what’s being done. for example you can get your mani and pedi done one week. then your facials, brows and lashes another week.

Things to Keep in Mind 💭💞:

these frequencies won’t be the same for everyone depending on personal wants, budgets, etc. but will most likely land somewhere in the ranges i gave. if you need touch ups or redos any sooner than i mapped out, then the service most likely was of poor quality.

anything done at home may or may not be up to the level of detail and longevity as salon or spa work. if you see yourself doing the majority of your beauty maintenance at home, this can save money but may end up taking more time than professional services. so it’s a give and take.

More Resources:

manage your routines, services and products using a beauty binder

a look at my skincare routine

at home beauty treatments for the summer

my hair care routine at home

pretty on purpose by @shefromhouston

monthly beauty routine by @angeljpg

dream girl routines by me

#the prissy girl agenda #dream girl journey #prissy lifestyle tips 💕🎀#dream girl routines #masterpost #my posts #skincare

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bedoballoons · 8 months

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Hi! Could I request a bit of angst to fluff? Maybe Kaeya, Tighnari, Aether, and Itto when there s/o leaves without telling them to clear their head after an argument and they get worried thinking they left them? I'm not sure that makes sense, but I hope it does.

Thank you!

It makes sense!! Thank you so much for your request and I'm so sorry it took a long time to write for you!! I hope you still enjoy it though!

─⊰⁠⊹ฺ🎃𝔾𝕖𝕟𝕤𝕙𝕚𝕟 ℍ𝕖𝕒𝕕𝕔𝕒𝕟𝕠𝕟𝕤⊰⁠⊹ฺ🎃

{༻~Have you left me~༺}

CW: Angst to fluff! Past arguments but making up in the end! Characters think the reader may have left them! Kaeya drinks some wine to ease the pain! Very slight mention of the abyss twin in Aethers.

(Includes: Itto, Tighnari, Kaeya, and Aether!)

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

𑁍༄Itto:

Itto combed a hand through his thick white hair, trying to make sense of how everything had went bad so quickly, how the two of you had actually gotten into a full blown argument...he loved you so much, why did he start yelling back, what was wrong with him. He sighed, not knowing how to make it better, he wanted to go after you, but you'd just left. What if you didn't want to see him, what if you didn't want anything to do with him... what if you no longer wanted to be his one and oni...

"Come on Itto, use that brain of yours. What do you do when you've upset someone? Apologize. Right right okay, gotta apologize. Flowers? Those are romantic...but maybe to cheesy! What if...yes thats it!" He made a plan out loud, hurrying to get what was needed before running out the door after you. He searched for hours, checking every spot he'd ever caught you in, asking around for you to every person he saw until finally...he found you.

You were sitting under the shade of a lavender melon tree, eyes puffy from tears and nose red from the cold, you looked heart broken...,"Hey, I know you don't want to talk to me right now, for good reason too but I have to talk to you okay! I'm not good with words, but I know how to say sorry...and I know how to say I love you and in case you don't believe me...I wanted to give you something..."

You looked up at him, eyes widened when you saw a golden beetle trophy in his hands...to anyone else this would have been ridiculous, but you knew it was something he cherished, probably even his most precious item, "What... why would you...that's the most important thing in the world to you..."

He shook his head, setting the trophy in front of you, "No you're wrong, you're the most important thing in the world to me and I'm really really sorry I made you upset. I'll do anything to make it better, you can throw beans at me, I'll give you all of my candy stash...I'll even give you my prizes beetles...I just want to be with you."

You started to cry more, which caught him a little off guard, but these were happy tears..."I want to be with you too...and I'm sorry for what I said...I love you Itto."

"I love you more"

𑁍༄Tighnari:

Tighnari rubbed his eyes, trying to dry the tears that didn't seem to have a end, his ears droopy and you...the person he loved with all his heart, had just walked out without a word. Was it over? Was he never going to be able to hug you again? He just couldn't accept it, he needed you in his life and maybe he hadn't said that enough, but he'd say it as many times as you wanted as long as your promised to come back with him.

He quickly threw on a extra coat, he had no plan and no way of knowing where you had went, but even if it took all night, he'd find you just to apologize, just to let you know how much he adored you. He'd search the entire forest if he had to.

Thankfully it wasn't needed, after a few hours his ears perked up, the soft sounds of your sobs reverberating off cave walls, the place he had shown you one time while gathering herbs...it was by a waterfall that held glowing algae and he's been wanting to take you back for so long... he never would have thought the two of you revisiting would be at a time like this..

He made his way to you and sat down, feeling a pang in his chest when you scooched away, it hurt...fighting with you, "I'm...I'm so sorry. Im sure you don't even want to hear it, but I don't think I've ever been so upset with myself before. I love you and I have never wanted to make you unhappy...you...you are my person. My soulmate. The one. Please...I don't want you to leave, I don't want us to end...I can't...loose you."

His voice started to break, sentences getting harder to finish, he couldn't even picture his life without you anymore and the horrible thought that it could happen because of his mistakes was eating him alive...

"I don't...want to loose you either Tighnari... soulmates go both ways. I'm yours and you're mine and I love you,...I just don't want to fight." You swallowed roughly, trying to stop yourself from crying even more as he wrapped his coat around you and pulled you into him, embracing you tighter than he ever had, "I love you too, and I promise...no more fighting."

𑁍༄Kaeya:

Kaeya took another sip from his wine bottle, trying to calm himself down...he almost never got into confrontations, in fact he always avoided them, preferring to smooth talk his way out of situations instead...,but what had went down between the two of you was anything but smooth. He'd said such hurtful things, he didn't even mean to, he'd just lost his cool and then you ran off before he could apologize and now...here he was, sitting under the stars trying to drink away his feelings when he knew full well it wasn't going to solve anything.

Then as he was sitting there, staring off into space...he caught sight of you, just barely outside the city walls, throwing rocks into the water with a satisfying splash while sniffling and holding yourself for comfort between tosses. Suddenly his wine lost any flavour, his mind drawn back to when he first met you, the way your eyes sparkled, the way your smile made his heart skip a beat...and how you laughed at his advances, completely oblivious to his feelings.

He picked himself off the chair he'd been sitting on, left his bottle waiting on the table for a cheery bard to find and then made his way over to you, more serious and determined than he had been in a very long time. The second he was close enough he gently intertwined you hand with his, spinning you for a brief second so your eyes would meet and your body would be close to his...the air felt cold, but he had a warm smile and before you could even attempt to push him away he kissed your lips.

It was unlike any kiss you'd ever had with him, it was passionate...slow...apologetic, it conveyed everything he wanted to say to you without ever saying a word and when he pulled back, his forehead rested against yours, he begged you to stay with him.

𑁍༄Aether:

Aether was running, running past branches and shrubbery, past trees and jumping over rocks, he wasn't worried about what scratches or bruises he'd have by the time he got to you, all he was worried about...all that was running through his mind, was his apology to you. He didn't know what had even started the argument anymore, he didn't care, he just needed you to know he was wrong and that he loved you, that he didn't want you to go, that he couldn't let you go.

He frantically searched around, looking for signs of you while he tripped over sticks and stomped into muddy puddles, "Hello!!" He shouted for you, his eyes scanning the moonlit trees and then, in the distance, he saw a faint light. It was the lamp you had taken with you when you'd left without a word and his first sign that you were near him. He ran to it, knowing full well he looked like a mess when he finally caught up to you, panting and covered in dirt....he looked like he'd just been through a hurricane.

"Aether what the hell-"

"No n-no, wait let me start. I just, i-i just had to follow you because none of what I said was true, I love you. That's the truth. I'd r-run to the ends of the earth to tell you that and then I'd do it again to prove it if you asked me to. Please, forgive me. I can't go on without you, I can't loose you too..." He looked away, trying not to think about his sister...about what it would be like if he didn't have you in his life anymore...what reason would he even have to continue?

"Did you really run...all the way here?"

"Yes, I love you and I don't want you to go..."

"I love you too Aether...and it's okay, I just wanted to clear my head, I'm not leaving." You went to kiss him...but decided it better wait till after he had been cleaned, you'd never had someone run so far just for you before...

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

◥(•̀￦•́)◤☪︎ ִ ࣪𖤐 ☾𖤓~Have a nice day~*⁠.⁠✧

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ateliersss · 1 year

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Together Forever

Pairing: Tsu'tey Te Rongloa Ateyitan x Fem!Reader Summary: Soon you'll be one of The People… Cross-posted on AO3: here Word Count: 733

“Am I ugly to you?”

Today was your big day, the consciousness transfer. You would become one with your avatar, leaving your human body to be with the man you love and live the life you've wanted since you first met him.

The ritual for Jake happened the day before. Never would he ever be confined to a wheelchair again. Never would he ever leave this world and his mate to wake up in a link unit. And never would you.

Tsu’tey looked at you while he gently wrapped your body in an algae-like plant like they did with Grace’s three days ago. Nothing man-made was allowed near that sacred place you would go to in a few minutes.

“What do you mean?”

“The first day you trained me and I was making a fool of myself, you said my human-self must be hideous when my dreamwalker-self is already ugly.”

Tsu’tey stopped in his tracks to look into your eyes. A rare sheepish smile appeared on his lips. “That was a long time ago.”

“Doesn’t matter.”

Tsu’tey grumbled before continuing his work. He was almost done. The plant was wrapped around your legs and arms and hid all your private parts which the na’vi had looked at with curiosity and fascination. You had been nervous the whole time and wanted to hide yourself while your mate explored your body with his eyes and hands. Not because you didn't trust him or because you didn't want him to see you, but because he had always despised and loathed humans and he might be disgusted.

What you didn't expect were the tender and careful caresses. You didn’t say a word to give him time, to let him do this in his own pace.

“All sky people are ugly.” He said in English.

Before you could even think of something you could reply with he continuied, “You are so small. So weak.”

You huffed. “That’s easy to say for someone who is a 10 foot tall blue alien.”

Tsu’tey chukled. “If anyone on this planet is an alien, it's you.“

“Yeah, you’re right.” You smiled up to him, taking his much bigger hand in yours.

Tsu'tey looked down at your intertwined hands with his usual poker face, but his eyes held all the love for you within them. “You are beautiful, you have always been beautiful. In this body or another. From the day I caught you in the forest with Jakesully to days I taught you all about us to our mating. You made me feel... something. That hasn't changed for a second. Not even now that you look like this.”

You sat there before him, stunned at his words. In the short time you spent getting close on a more intimate level, you realized that he wasn't a man of big words when it comes to expressing feelings. Nothing surprising. Rather, he showed his affection in a different way - going out into the woods to hunt and present you his prey; saving food for you when you arrived later at Hometree; gifting you clothes, weapons, holsters; giving you feathers, beads, pearls and other trinkets for your hair.

He had shown off his strength and skills with those gestures and you didn’t even realize he had been courting you.

Physical touch like holding hands, wrapping his arms around your waist or his tail around yours, cuddling or even kissing followed shortly after that but those moments were kept private.

However, after the revelation of your mating, some of it happend more and more often in front of the others. The revelation had been a disaster and caused an agitation within the Omatikaya clan but his promised mate had already chosen another as well. After that he didn't waste a moment to show others that you belonged to him. He was always by your side, holding you close to him while still looking like his strong and intimidating self.

You stood to be on an equal footing, took his face in your hands, and rested your forehead against his.

This short moment of togetherness was quickly interrupted by an awkward throat clearing.

“You’re ready? It’s time.” Jake said with a sly grin. Neytiri stood with a soft look on her face next to him.

You just rolled your eyes and looked back at Tsu’tey with an excited smile.

“Soon you and I can be together forever.”

#avatar #tsu'tey #tsu'tey te rongloa ateyitan #tsu'tey x reader #tsu'tey x you #tsu'tey imagines

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linddzz · 5 months

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In Which Hob, a Shitty Wizard, Meets a Supposed Demon

Last week or so I made too many posts about what if Hob, still immortal, trying out occultism but kinda crap at it (which is some bullshit considering that Death is his drinking buddy), first meets Dream as the devil in the basement of The Magus Burgess. I called it "the shit-wizard Hob AU"

I still don't know if I'll finish it. But I couldn't stop it from starting.

No editing no betas we post on Tumblr like idiots.

EDIT: very mild editing still no betas we still stupid

********

In August of 1923, Hob Gadling - currently Rob Gedlen- is introduced to a demon.

It is, he has to admit, rather impressive. Or at least, the bonds keeping it tamed are. The prison space is everything a magus cellar should be. All arched, ancient stone and dim lighting that only barely illuminates the painted ceiling. Shadows so deep that even the electric bulbs only give the dark textures of colour. Green algae, the saturated grays and browns of rock, the faded blue and gold of the artificial night sky.

The oily glint of black iron chains. The sweeping ooze of the light over the curved iron scaffolding the chains held up, and the dizzying reflection off of the glass orb held within the iron like a gem clasped in dragon claws suspended over a small, mirror flat moat and an intricate golden circle.

Very impressive. Forboding even. The sort of thing a magus should have in his cellar.

The man inside of it looks for all the world like an ordinary naked man. Right number of limbs, hair and skin natural colors, everything in place where it should be. That's if one ignored the fact that he was sitting calm and clean in a fully airtight sphere of glass. Ordinary, if you were a dimwit and took human shape as a sign of humanity.

“This,” Burgess says with a wicked, bitter sort of pride, “is the Order’s secret of success.”

Hob whistles, because he thinks he should show some sort of appreciation. He's been working for Burgess for a few years now after all, and knows when to look suitably impressed. It is impressive, so he doesn't need to play it up too much when he follows Burgess past the wrought iron gate.

The man in the glass looks less like a mystical secret and more like he needs a coat. He's even sitting with his knees tucked to his chest, delicate ankles crossed in front of him, arms loosely draped forward and black haired head bowed down as if in deep thought.

With his nakedness, the curled position would look painfully vulnerable, were it not for the overwhelming sense that he's waiting.

“He's a demon of dreams. Or close enough to a demon.” Burgess explains. His cane tapping on the stone is the only other sound in that strange space. “I was attempting to summon Death itself, and failed at my task. But I did not come away empty handed.”

Yeah, that's probably for the best. If Hob had sauntered down here and seen Her displayed in a glass cage like a bauble, he would have done something stupid and violent. Best case scenario; She would just laugh at him for overreacting. Worst case; She'd do it with that sad little twist to Her mouth.

The entity Burgess did nab seems miniscule compared to the apparatus around him, to the manor towering over their heads. Yet even Hob and his absolute shit senses for magic can feel how everything is circling the center point of the man. They're all little marbles, orbiting the sphere and the mass within it.

“An incubus?” Hob asks, walking around the perimeter of the moat. His tone is mild, curious, intrigued. It's a talent of his to not exactly lie, but to use some of his feelings to mask others.

It’s a horrible thing, to take the freedom of another for your own benefit.

Her voice echoes in his head. That moment is never far from his head. The sad sweetness of her voice turned sour. The hard disappointment in her dark eyes. He will never forget the horrid, sickening twist of guilt of that meeting, and he feels it when he looks at the demon in the magus’ cellar.

The lights reflect oddly in the sphere, making it seem as if the man himself were the source of illumination. His skin is the sort of gleaming white that poets would froth over. Hob isn't a poet, but even he can tell that “white” hardly does it justice. The alabaster statues a floor above are going to appear dull and crude now when compared to the snow-under-moonlight of the man down here. The shadows of him are blue, violet, deepest velvet black.

Maybe not snow under moonlight, Hob thinks, reminded of the multi-hued winter twilight.

Now that he's closer, Hob can make out the sharply sculpted features of him. His curled body is a lean, hungry twist of muscle that reminds one less of actual flesh than of a tangled metal chord. His cheekbones are sharp and high, his eyes cast down with a sweep of raven wing lashes. The only hints of life are the faint flushes of seashell pink at his ears, his fingers, the still and plush lips.

“If you like.” Burgess says, which means the man isn't an incubus and Burgess thinks he's fucking clever again. The magus is watching Hob now, who is examining the circle, the iron chains, anything that will keep him from thinking too much about the thin form trapped within it.

“I attempted first to gain favors from it.” Burgess continues when Hob says nothing. “But it is stubbornly silent. No matter.”

Burgess has stepped past the moat, past the circle, to stand with his nose nearly touching the round glass wall. Hob stays outside of the barriers, but he is close enough that he can see the hate that always sits beneath his boss’ manners.

“No matter.” Burgess repeats, sneering at his captive. “Found a use for you anyway, didn't I? Just its presence brings power to this place. It amplifies the magic here, makes the spells wrought near it more solid.”

“Not much hope for me then, if I'm already by some magic booster.” Hob grins, and his boss chuckles almost fondly. It had been a whim that had Hob joining the Order. He’d never tried being a magician before, though he had gone to a few seances when they were at their peak. Occultism wasn't too fashionable anymore, so Hob thought it was best to try it out now before it got truly passe.

He's glad he's only been at it for a few years, because he's crap at it. All the costumes and chanting and intricate rituals seem silly, even when he's seen the true results of it. It was just a bunch of nonsense cobbled together from bad translations and old frauds that everyone knew were frauds back in the day! But if you followed the stupid made up rubbish perfectly, sometimes it would result in some actual magic.

That's one of the stupid things about magic. If all you can think about while doing a spell is that you must look like an utter berk, it won't work.

“We all have our talents, Mr. Gedlen.” Burgess says mildly, indulgently. “It's why I have brought you here, actually. You may not have the Gift,” he always referred to magic like that, you could hear the self important capitalized letters in it, “but you’re measured. Resilient. Notably unshakable.

Hob supposed that was true enough. Being in a house with a bunch of wizardy twats who were too busy going mad while practicing the perfect runes took a level head. Someone needed to have enough of a practical mindset to smother out all the fires that tended to happen, even if those fires had colors that gave you a headache.

“I've tried other magicians, promising acolytes, ruffian's from the street.” Burgess continues, sighing with remembered disappointment and gazing hard at the unmoving demon. “They would lose their nerve, complain of nightmares, or they would be too dimwitted to know the sorts of things to report on.”

Hob moves again, still keeping to the edges of the moat, until he is looking at Burgess’ back and into the lowered face of the demon. “You want me to be a guard?” He asks, voice mild because he isn't sure how he feels about that.

“An observer.” Burgess corrects. “You're sharp, though I've noticed that you try not to show it. You don't have a talent for magic, but you're quick to catch onto the supernatural.”

Hob should hope so, all things considered.

“I want you to take one of the guard shifts, yes. But I want to see what you observe compared to the thicker minds my son has hired. I want you to tell me when it moves, how it moved, if the light seemed different, if you felt tired despite the forced march pills you will be required to take. Any sign that it might be trying to wear away at the binds that hold it.

Do not be fooled by it's stillness or fair looks.” Burgess taps his cane on the sphere, making it ring like a perfect crystal. “This is a demon. If it ever breaks free, it will destroy all of us without a thought.”

The demon lifts its head then, and Hob wonders if his heart finally stops. The movement is slow, strange and dragged, a statue that can only mimic how a living thing would move. The raven wing lashes fly up. The demons eyes are shadowed. Far more deeply shadowed than they should be for the amount of light shining off his skin.

Within those shadows, the place where his eyes must be draw all the light in, refine it, refract it back in the distant twinkling of two dim, hateful, cold stars.

“Yeah. I don't doubt that.” Hob says quietly, and the demons eyes blaze in its beautiful, dead face.

#dreamling #new orb rescue mission au dropped #shit wizard hob #my fic

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fancyfeathers · 3 months

Text

Rain and Dirt (Yandere Rex Lapis/Zhongli x Goddesses!Reader)

Chapter Five, Not All That Glitters is Gold

Sequel to The Moon Will Sing and Time Alone

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Summary: Stories are told of Rex Lapis the God of Contracts and his darling the Goddess of the Moonlight, but what people do not know is the truth of what their relationship really is. People think at Rex Lapis’s death that his wife would be the first to weep, but what if she is the first to smile.

When you were young, still a child in the standard of a god, you remember the feeling of the water going up to your ankles as your younger self reached into the waters to pick up shells, sand dollars, and sea glass. You help your skirt out to make a makeshift basket of the bits and bobs you found, but the sand that came with them would be a pain to clean up later. Your sister sat on the sand flying a kite and watching it soar up into the air, one of your older brothers at her side helping her guide it and keep it from flying off if she let go. The sun bore down on the island today, to mortals you suppose it would be far too hot but to you it was a perfect summer’s day.

You could hear the sound of your other older siblings chatting behind you, laughing and enjoying the day. It was rare the days you could see each other like this, most of your siblings had their own duties to tend to and even a few of them made their homes in other nations. You and your sister were still so young and you still had yet to figure out your places in the world, you were not like your siblings, not yet anyway.

“(Name), come here.” You heard the voice of your eldest brother call out to you from where he sat on the sand. You walked over and stood in front of your brother who was sitting by your other siblings. You felt him reach his hand up to brush some sand that you had gotten on your cheek. “Don’t want to get sand in your eyes, now do you?”

“No.” You shook your head and you felt his hand guide you to sit down in the sand, among your family. As you sat down your hand slipped from your skirt and all the hidden gems you found were laid out before you for all your siblings to see. You heard one of your older sisters laugh and grab you and picked you up and sat you on her lap, her hands coming to brush through your sandy hair with her delicate hands.

“Oh dear, it seems like sand has ruined your hair as well and I spent so much time on it before we came out here.” You heard your older sister give a heavy sigh before it faded into a light laugh. “Well I suppose it can’t be helped.”

You heard your eldest brother hum in thought before he stood up, collecting all your treasures you collected from the sea in his arms. “Well, I think I know just the place to keep these safe and get that sand out of your hair so our dearest sister will stop throwing such a fit.”

“Osial!” She spoke with a gasp while the rest of your sibling laughed at his words and her reaction. Your brother held a hand down to you, his other arm cradling your treasures. You took his hand and he pulled you to your feet and he walked forward, guiding you to the ocean.

You dove down into the salty water of the sea, the refreshing wave of coolness hit your skin. It has been so long since you have roamed freely in Liyue Harbor, let alone the sea. Your husband always hated you stepping into open waters in “fear” that something would attack you or that you would drown, both were physically impossible for you but your husband somehow had the constant belief that you must have been made of glass. Or what you thought was really the case is that you would have attempted to run away.

You swam to the depths of the sea, the wish coming to rub against your skin, almost like a cat seeking affection. You pushed away the seaweed and the algae that had grown here in your brother’s absence. You remember when your brother used to take you here, a temple hidden under the ocean’s surface. You and your sister used to use this place as your playground before you moved along to find your home, like baby birds leaving the nest, except you didn’t fly forever, your wings were clipped.

You pushed down that thought, he was dead now, he could not hold you down any longer. You swam into the ruins that were once a beautiful spectacle of art, now partially destroyed in your brother’s battle with your husband. You swam past rooms full of gems and gold of all sorts, your siblings’ treasures. Your childhood treasures took a different form, your little cove that your brother made for you was full of your seashells, sand dollars, and other precious little things you adored as a child. You dug through the piles of your treasures, looking for something, something you had left of your family that you had hidden away here as a child so as to not lose it, it was the last thing your father had given you before you and your sister came of age, and your parents disappeared.

You felt your hand wrap around the hilt of a dagger, you pulled it out from the pile. In your hand was a beautiful dagger made of coral. It seems a silly thing to have, but if you knew what it could do, it was made by a god to kill other gods but you could remember your father’s voice telling you...

“Be careful with this my dear, while this dagger is powerful it should only be a last resort for it can be used once. You must learn how to lean on your own power and learn how to hone it to protect yourself and others around you.”

It was something you wish you did not hide away because if you had it you might have avoided your fate. Having what you came for, you tucked the dagger away and began to swim back to the surface, trying to avoid looking at anything else, this was a graveyard of memories now, abandoned, forgotten. Some of them you heard stories about, being painted as villains in the history of Teyvat, but they were no such things. You knew who they really were, they were brother and sisters to you, husbands and wives to their spouses, sons and daughters to your parents, wherever they might be. They were your family, and because they did not win, they were painted as villains. That made you thin, you did not win, but Liyue adored you…

Wait…

You forgot…

History is written by the victors.

You returned to the harbor after changing out of your sopping wet dress, into a set of spare clothing you brought with. You heard Lumine and Paimon had returned from the abodes of the Adepti early yesterday but you have not seen them yet. After your encounter with Childe you discussed the terms of your deal with him, this dagger was the first of his requests but you had to remind him of the warning your father gave you, which he only nodded off. Under normal circumstances you would not have given such a thing to him but given recent events and Childe’s end of the deals, the risk was worth the rewards.

You climbed the stairs of the builds of Liyue Harbor, heading towards the Northland Bank where Childe told you to meet you, but it was later than expected, the swim took far longer than you remembered but perhaps your memory has slipped you in these last few thousand years or perhaps the waters have changed with the appearance of Liyue Harbor and the ships that came with it, far different from your days when much of Teyvat was the wilds.

As you approached the Northland Bank the attendant outside nodded and opened the door for you. The building of the interior of the back felt off putting as always, but this was something you could shrug off for the most part. You walked up to their counter and the woman behind it. “Excuse me, but is Childe here. I have an item he requested of me.”

“No, I’m afraid not but he did tell me to expect you, so I can give that to him upon his return.” The woman spoke to you politely, and based on her words it seems the Harbinger figured you may be late. “Unless you would like to give it to him personally in which case you may find him at Liuli Pavilion.”

“Oh no, that will not be necessary, just see to it that this gets delivered to him upon his return, and do be careful with it. Whatever you do, do not touch the blade.” You took out the dagger, the blade wrapped up in cloth and you handed it off to her which she seems to place in one of the compartments behind her with the most delicate movements. “Oh and do let Childe know when he wishes to speak with me again he may most likely find me at the docks, down by the water.”

“I will and do take care.” As you were about to give your farewell to her, you heard the door to the bank open and close. You glanced over your shoulder, just to catch a glimpse of who it was and you smiled when you saw who.

“Hello Lumine, Paimon.” You spoke to them so kindly but the moment they saw you, their smiles dropped. It took you a moment to piece together why but when you realized your smile faded as well. “I take it that you went to the place I spoke to you about?”

“…yes.” Lumine pressed her lips together, deep in thought of what to say to you next, and you could understand why. “…what was that place? Those chains?”

“Well…” you glanced over at the Fatui agent behind the counter and then back at Lumine. “Meet me at the docks when you are done with your business, I’ll explain everything to you there.”

“Alright.” Lumine gave you a nod and you turned to make your way outside, ready to spend the day to just relax. “Miss (Name)…”

“Hm?”

“Thank you.”

After what Lumine saw, it was the least she could say after seeing that…

—————————

Lumine and Paimon had just met with the two Adepti on Mount Hulao and Mount Aozang and were ready to head out to the Wangshu Inn to meet the last she was told about. She hiked through the tall grass of the karst. The grass tickled her legs as she traversed the landscape of Liyue.

“The place Miss (Name) told us about should be around here somewhere.” Lumine’s floating companion spoke in her high pitched voice. Lumine ran her hand along the stone that formed the base of the mountain, feeling past the vines that hid the stone from their eyes. “It has to be- ahh! Lumine!”

Lumine’s hand that was tracing the stone found what they were looking for, her hand met no stone and she fell back, past the vines, finding the entrance of the cave. Lumine fell flat on her ass upon her surprise entry into the cave, her floating friend flying down to join her in the dark place. The cavern was completely deprived of natural sunlight, the only thing lighting the carver were the large crystals of cor lapis that lit up the place. Lumine led them deeper and deeper into the cave, looking around as she did so, being cautious of her surroundings.

“Paimon wonders why Miss (Name) would have us come here, seems creepy.” Paimon was holding onto Lumine’s scarf, almost scared to let go.

“I don’t know, but she wouldn’t send us here if it wasn’t important to see.” Lumine replied as they made their way down the tunnel. Soon they came to the main area of the cave, a massive empty chamber but unlike the rest of the cave there was no cor lapis to light the way, only the light in the distance from the tunnel. It also felt painfully dry in the cave, like all the moisture was being sucked away. The dryness and the dustiness of the cave nearly sent Lumine into a coughing fit, Paimon was a different story with the dust who could not stop coughing after breathing it in. “It’s so dry in here, are you alright Pai- huh what’s that?”

In the center of the cave Lumine spotted something glowing that was thrown on the ground in the center of the chamber. She got closer to it and soon began to make out what it was, chains…

“What is this?” Lumine spoke, looking down at them in confusion. She kneeled down to get a closer look, they were chains of cor lapis, made with shackles that were clearly intended for something or someone. She also noticed how the ends of the chains seemed to meld into the stone so that if someone was locked up in here escape would be impossible. When she reached down to touch them a large pulse of energy spread throughout her body, sending shockwaves that immediately knocked her back onto the ground, flat on her back. Lumine sat up, looking down at the chains with even more confusion, but then it clicked for her. “I think I’m going to be sick.”

You were kept here.

“Are you alright Miss Lumine?” Childe had set up this meeting at Liuili Pavilion with Lumine and “the one who could break this stalemate,” as Childe referred to him as. It was over food since that was apparently common for business meetings in Liyue. “You look quite pale, are you ill?”

“Hm?” Lumine was snapped out of her thoughts by the man’s question, she was thinking about what she saw in that cave. Was that truly for you? If so, what did you do to deserve it? You seemed so kind, so generous to her and Paimon. Was this what you were referring to when you said this place holds too many painful memories for you? Lumine picked up her tea cup, looking down at the hot liquid that reflected her face. “I’m alright, just lightheaded from my travels.”

“That is good, I am glad you have nothing serious.” The man took a sip of his drink, his golden eyes closing slightly as he blew over the sip he was about to take.

“Yes I’m fine.” Lumine looked up at him and smiled before taking a sip of her own and setting the tea cup down on the table. “But thank you for asking, Mr. Zhongli.”

—————————

You sat at the docks once more, your feet dangling over the edge, your toes dipping into the water below. You hummed, folded your hands on your lap, and closed your eyes, enjoying the setting sunlight that hit your skin. You heard footsteps approaching you, but you recognized these. You opened your eyes and glanced over your shoulder at Lumine, she wore a smile but still looked frazzled probably after what she saw there. You patted the spot next to you, gesturing for her to sit. She sat down next to you but kept her legs pulled up so as to not get her shoes wet.

“I am guessing you want to know the story of that place?” You asked, watching her expression and you saw her eyes narrow a bit on the waters before the two of you. She nodded but did not say a word, probably not knowing what to say. “Very well, our story begins in ancient Liyue. I had many siblings, but one twin sister and the two of us took to a village, becoming its protectors. We lived there for many years, taking care of it, and avoiding the other gods of Liyue by pure chance. We became forgotten gods but we were content with that. One night when I was looking over the village, I met a man and we talked and he told me that one day Liyue will know who I am even if I was a forgotten goddess. Then one day, my sister left to explore Teyvat and I did not go with her.”

“You told me about that before, so your sister was a goddess?” Lumine asked, politely cutting in.

“Yes, she was or rather is I hope, if she is still alive. I did not wish to leave but without my sister there was no way I could protect the village alone, so without thinking I prayed and asked the god of Liyue to help protect my people, without thinking on the consequences. Many days passed before that came into being, my home was attacked and when I was almost killed he appeared.”

“Rex Lapis?”

“Yes, he defended this village, making good on his side of the contract, then there was mine. He asked…” You paused on your words, asked was not the right word for what happened. “… he said it was my duty on my end of the contract, since I said I would do anything that night when I prayed, to enter a life long contract with him, marriage. I refused, but Rex Lapis once said ones who break their contracts shall suffer the Wrath of the Rock, and that is what happened to me.”

“So that cave…”

“I was there for hundreds of years, five hundred years alone, that was my punishment. I remember the pain of those chains everytime I moved, the pangs of hunger, I may be immortal but one of the downsides of taking a human form is that you can feel the pain you just cannot die from it, and then there was the dryness of the cave making a fitting prison for the goddess of rain and moonlight.” You looked at Lumine’s face to see it one of pure horror, she actually looked like she was going to be sick. “You asked me why I did not mourn him, and to that I say why would I? I will not play the grieving wife and lie saying that I miss him. People praise my marriage to him, saying how devoted w e are to one another, my devotion was out of fear. I did not sit at his side as his equal, I sat at his feet, the equivalent of a pet. The only difference is that I was called wife.”

#yandere genshin x you #yandere genshin #yandere genshin x reader #yandere genshin imagines #yandere genshin impact #yandere genshin impact x reader #yandere zhongli #yandere zhongli x reader #yandere rex lapis #yandere rex lapis x reader

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neo-my-geo · 6 months

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It's migration season!

Certified spycrab factoids below the cut!

Did you know?

The wild spycrab's natural habitat is the shores of Banana Bay, but they summer in the alpine regions of the United States.

Unlike most species of crustacean, spycrabs typically prefer to reside on dry land. They become dehydrated very easily because of this, so they thrive near sources of water.

Spycrabs are technically classified as a species of false crab due to the fact that they have eight limbs instead of ten. Other species that fall under this classification include hermit crabs, porcelain crabs, and squat lobsters!

Spycrabs glow under ultraviolet light.

Spycrabs earned their name by being incredibly adept at using their environment to disguise themselves - some have even been seen hiding under cardboard boxes to ambush prey!

Despite typically residing in groups of five or less, spycrabs migrate in massive swarms twice a year. This is likely due to large numbers reducing the risk of individual injury or predation as they travel through unfamiliar areas.

While they are able to walk in all directions, spycrabs prefer side-to-side.

Spycrabs are covered in microscopic hair-like structures called setae - they help them perceive the world around them!

Due to not having a way to source cigarettes, non-domesticated spycrabs smoke the fallen cigarette butts left behind by wild spies.

Spycrabs have unusually long lives for crustaceans, with an average lifespan of 82 years.

Spycrabs don't molt as often as most species of crustacean; they tend to only do it every three to four years. This can be attributed to their long lifespans and slower growth rates.

The most common varieties of spycrab are red and blue; purple, green, and yellow varieties have been spotted in the wild, however!

Unlike the hermit crab, their closely-related cousin, spycrabs have eyes that are set directly in their faces instead of on stalks. This has been theorized to be because they are apex predators in their natural habitat.

Spycrabs are one of the only species of false crab that are legally classified as a group 1 carcinogen. They are not recommended for consumption by humans.

Have you been considering keeping a domestic spycrab as a pet? They are unique and challenging to care for, but there aren't many things more rewarding than a happy spycrab.

Spycrabs grow bored very easily and aren’t recommended for first-time crab parents. Make sure to keep them occupied with enrichment provided by decks of cards, books of a third-grade reading level or lower, and car magazines.

Spycrabs are social creatures! Never keep a solitary spycrab, as they can become depressed without company.

The spycrab’s diet consists of algae, small clams, caviar, small mammals, snails, and cigarettes. While a spycrab can survive just fine on bagged crab chow alone, the enrichment provided by these foods will keep them happy and healthy.

When caring for a domesticated spycrab, consider supplementing extra chitin in their diet to keep their exoskeleton strong and healthy.

When not encouraged to exercise, spycrabs will become lazy and lethargic. Consider keeping their cigarette carton at the top of an incline that they must traverse to reach it.

Spycrabs are prone to sudden bouts of aggression, especially when they feel personally wronged. Remember that most threats made by a spycrab are empty ones, but it’s still important to get to the root of the issue and understand why they feel upset.

Spycrabs lack the ability to digest alcohol the way humans can; it is not recommended that owners give them wine, no matter how hard they ask. Consider substituting it with grape or cranberry juice, as most of them can’t tell the difference.

#tf2 #team fortress 2 #spycrab #tf2 spycrab #Neo's funny art tag

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grimbanes · 1 year

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I Was Using You. Kaz Brekker x GN! Reader.

Summary: “You’re right.” You muttered, dropping into a squat against the wall and cradling the sides of your head, then rubbed your eyes with the palms of your hands, “I want my time back. I want all those hours I spent worrying about you back. I want all the information I passed to you back. I want my heart back, Kaz. Most of all I want you to give my love back.” OR kaz had you both practice being around each other and acting as a couple would to prepare you both for a heist but you ended up falling for him for real. Part 1 of a twoshot. WC: 2.9k GENRE: ANGST, minor humor. tw: blood, guns, violence, the usual six of crows warnings. A/N: i had a lot of fun writing this one but part 2 will definitely be more angsty <3

“The truth of the matter is that I was using you,” Kaz’s words felt as chilled as the water running through the canals throughout Ketterdam’s cursed streets. You stared at him with your brass knuckles loose around your fingers, unable to hold your fists and you felt yourself lean back against the wall behind you, disbelief clouding your judgement. Nina’s words echoed in your mind: “Kaz is a good actor, just as good as me and I’m military trained and yet… I couldn’t even pretend to be in love like that. I think he really does feel for you.”

“You’re a thief,” You breathed with dawning dread, brushing the back of your hand against your cheek and wiping blood and dust across your sweat soaked skin. The job had been perfect, gone smoother than anything and now you just awaited the signal from Wylan that it was clear to make a swift exit. You had played your role for months for this job and you hadn’t even realised you were a puppet on a string. All those nights in Kaz’s office, the coffees you brought him, the little notes he left around for you. It was all preparing you to play the role for that heist and selfishly, Kaz knew how to make you fall for him for real, reality winding you in the middle of a dingy storage room in a warehouse on some island off of the coast of Ketterdam.

“We all had a job to do and you’re the least reliable. I did what needed to be done,” Kaz’s icey gaze didn’t waver with uncertainty but there was a rigidness in his frame, all straight lines deadly still rather than flowing like waves licking at algae-slick rocks. In his impossibly dark suit, jacquard waistcoat and bronze pocket watch, he stood towering, tall and domineering and with just a single sentence, he turned from your favourite person to walk on the cobbled streets to the Devil himself.

“Give it back,” You heard yourself mutter out, your eyes wide and hand clutching at the front of your shirt. Your heart was breaking over and over the more you stared at him. The more you studied his gloves, reminiscing of the bare hands that had tucked your hair behind your ear. The soft smiles he often threw your way from across the Crow Club’s floor, just the hint of a curve that only you or Jesper could identify. The way he would work himself late into the night and silently ask for a drink with that twinkle in his eyes, relying on you for something he could easily do himself because he wanted you around him.

You wanted to march across the room and kick his cane from his grasp and sock him in the jaw. You wanted to march across the room and grab the front of his stupid coat and tell him that it's okay to feel for you. You wanted to do so much but most of all, you didn’t want to be the person to make that decision for him. You need Kaz to choose you for himself, not coax him into wanting you. Not in the way he had done to you and then ripped your heart from your chest with the proficiency of a heartrender. Dirtyhands, indeed.

“I don’t know what you’re asking me to return,” Kaz spoke up with his raspy timbre, absentmindedly tapping his cane against the rickety floorboards but other than that, the only movement in his tall frame as the tensing of his jaw, a subtle flex of muscle beneath alabaster skin.

“You’re right.” You muttered, dropping into a squat against the wall and cradling the sides of your head, then rubbed your eyes with the palms of your hands, “I want my time back. I want all those hours I spent worrying about you back. I want all the information I passed to you back. I want my heart back, Kaz. Most of all I want you to give my love back.”

It was a weighted statement. Did you mean for him to give it back and love you in return or did you mean to give it back because he didn’t deserve to have it? You didn’t know that much, you just knew it to be your truth. It was a confession of your feelings, one that Kaz Brekker was certainly not used to despite his intelligence and observational skills.

“I didn’t promise you anything,” Kaz’s stupid voice brought you from your rapture and you silently agreed. He hadn’t promised anything and that was your mistake. Kaz never went back on his word if you managed to get him to give it to you first. There may not be any honour in thieves, but there was honour in being Kaz Brekker.

You brought yourself to your feet and steeled yourself, quashing those feelings that wanted to burst from your chest and bloom hydrangeas, rescinding all the words that dared wish to roll from your tongue. You would not waste your breath because the young man in front of you was not someone who bothered with such niceties. You would not give him the chance to see you beg. You would not beg for love you knew you deserved so instead, you would play your role and dance to the tune the piper played.

“It’s better this way, anyway. I should be thanking you,” You eyed the door, adjusting the bandages you tied to your wrist to support your punches and then you grabbed the little knife you stored in your boot, brass knuckles tight around your fingers. A loud explosion echoed in the far distance and you cast him a glance. You both had a job to finish.

Kaz didn’t reply, just lowered to a squat that mirrored yours prior and flirted with the lock of the door they hadn’t entered through, deft fingers caressing sweetly and crooning a symphony to each little motion until the lock was bursting open to embrace him, only to be discarded and pushed open to reveal the hallway in front of them. You stepped past his hunched frame, leaving himself to get up on his own because he was more than capable. You approached the narrow wall that turned down a corner and peered over, gesturing your hand that it was clear and then began to push forward. The plan was to slip through a window and down onto the next floor, make a run for it as Jesper and Nina created a distraction. It was simple and you could both do it with your eyes closed.

The uneven steps behind you was enough for you to know that Kaz wasn’t using his cane to walk, no doubt feeling that ache in his shin and thigh that you would offer to get a chair for him to prop his leg up, telling him of little remedies your grandmother had told you about before her passing. It left a bitter taste on your tongue because you could have had that. You both could have had that but Kaz didn’t care for anything unless it came with a price tag or a promise of vengeance. A comforting lie. Kaz did care. He cared deeply, in his own way. He cared by lying for you. He cared by spinning little webs with his vile tongue and smoothing each little mistruth with enough certainty that it became absolute reality. Kaz cared by giving you your loved one’s share of money when they lost their lives. Kaz cared by thinking of you as family and having loyalty to you even if he didn’t mean for it. He cared by lowering his hat when you lost your life. His care was as cruel as he was, but it was still enough to regard.

You both approached the window but rather than let Kaz unlock it you slashed the lock with your knife and hoisted it up, throwing one leg over until you were straddling it and turning your gaze to Kaz.

“Do you want a hand?” You asked, offering him your hand with your palm turned up but he stared at you, jaw taut but his eyes held somewhat amusement.

“I would prefer a leg,” He retorted, stepping closer and gesturing for you to hurry out of the window with an impatient wave of his hand, thrusting his cane into your grasp.

He held it up and open with one glove covered hand, eyes cast behind them and then back to you, repeating the glances over and over as you gripped the window sill and let your body hang, throwing it into a swing and through the window below, slipping through the next window that Kaz had conveniently left open previously. Then you leaned out the window, over the sill and held your hands out whilst Kaz lowered himself through, your fingers locking around the bottom of his ridiculously fancy shoe attached to his bad leg and you helped him through the window with ease. Little things like letting you help him had you wishing to punch him in the gut and confess your undying love all at once. Ridiculous. You handed back his cane.

You both set off in perfect, uneven steps towards the flight of stairs, light on your feet and near impossible to detect. Everything remained silent and it caused you both to cast each other a glance, uncertainty clear. By now, gunfire should be heard, anything that would cause a distraction. Perhaps the two troublemakers had seduced the entire building into silence. That would be the day. You felt a small smile pull at your lips, peeking down over the railing of the stairs-

You heard it before you registered the blooming agony curling rose stems along your right shoulder, thorns digging into each nerve. BANG. Gritting your teeth, you felt your entire body recoil backwards, knife dropping to the floor with a noisy clatter and your hand caught your shoulder, palm pressed just below your collarbone, back colliding into a firm chest. You tried to stifle any noises of pain, an expert at manoeuvring through it. Months of torture tended to make someone good at that. You exhaled heavily through your nose, more annoyed with the inconvenience of your right hand now useless at your side. You cast a glance to Kaz from over your shoulder, his eyes already on your wound and his throat bobbing with a heavy swallow, his hands floating uselessly either side of your arms. Now was not the time for concern.

Throwing yourself away from his tall frame, you proceeded down the corridor rather than down the spiralling staircase, feet still light on the burgundy carpet and you pushed into a side room, Kaz following and shutting the door quietly. Saints, it fucking hurt. There was no doubt that they would begin pushing up to the next floor, fortunate that the carpet below was red. Luck or careful planning, you absentmindedly considered, eying the thief with his side against the door, ear pressed to the wood.

“Son of a bitch,” You grunted, ripping at your shirt and beginning to fasten it around your shoulder, mind rushing a million miles an hour. The staircase was a no go, now you needed to rely on Kaz’s assortment of plans and hope that he had one that didn’t involve you dying.

“You need help.”

“Astute observation as always, Kazzy,” You sighed, sweat beading at your temple. It should stop you bleeding out, for now. You hoped. Hope is dangerous, you laughed to yourself.

“Y/N-”

“You did a wonderful job convincing other people that you loved me, you know. I almost believed it myself. How insane is that? I nearly believed you. Me! I don’t trust the hinges on that door to open properly, let alone be foolish enough to believe that you loved me and for months too,” You felt dizzy, laughing into the back of your hand as you swayed to your feet, bracing the wall as you stood in front of him, entire body aching.

“People often avoid the truth because they are afraid that it will destroy the illusion.” Kaz replied with haste, pulling the door open and then stepping out, “We’ll take the next window. Are you coming?”

But the only response Kaz got was you falling unceremoniously onto the floor with an echoing, inelegant thump.

____________________________________________________________

When you came to the first thing you registered was the brain splitting headache bruising one side of your head. You pushed yourself up and clumsily reached for the whiskey glass filled with water and you threw it back, not caring how noisily you chugged the liquid because it was the most beautiful thing you had experienced. Maybe you would kill for another glass.

The second thing you registered was raised voices echoing through the Slat, each yelled murmur enveloped with unfamiliar silence. It had you curious because the Slat was never silent, always busy and bustling with success or singing, misery or pain. The third was that it was undoubtedly Kaz Brekker raising his voice. No wonder the entire building shook with echoing trepidation. With shaky legs, you carried yourself from the comfort of the bed towards your door and you stepped onto the landing of the second floor, only to meet eyes with Inej. She gestured you forward and you followed until she was pushing a bucket aside, peering straight into what used to be Per Haskell’s office, and now it was Kaz’s.

“What’s going on?” Your voice felt like sandpaper and sounded like nails on a chalkboard but Inej hushed you with a finger to her lips, shifting aside to give you room to listen in. Did she do this often?

“Where were you? Jesper? Nina?” Kaz’s familiar tone chimed out, rough and impatient and you observed the way he raked his hand through his dishevelled hair. He looked worse for wear, purple bruising beneath his raging irises and lashes long, blue marks littered across his jaw and neck but his clothes remained as put together as they always did.

“There were more than we expected, boss. Our information was a little off, we did what we could,” Jesper scratched the back of his head with his other hand laying on his revolver, no doubt seeking comfort from the pearl handled guns.

“No, you didn’t. You could have taken a bullet, Jes. Why does it have to be Y/N picking up the slack all the time? That was your job,” Kaz’s lips turned downwards into a frown and his limped pacing ceased, his tired form dropping into the chair at the desk, linking his fingers and elbows on the desk, mouth pressed against the hands in thought, unblinkingly and studying the two in front of him. You’re the least reliable. The two statements were very conflicting.

“Kaz- I’m sorry, okay? I have a home to get back to, I was thinking of Wylan,” Jesper sighed, shifting his weight from foot to foot and Nina beside him picked at her dress, lips pressed and eyes cast down.

“That’s exactly the problem, Jesper. If you died, your cut of the money would go to Wylan. If Y/N died, who would get the cut? There isn’t anybody left for them,” Kaz sighed out, explaining it to them with ease in his tone. At least he understood Jesper’s perspective.

“You would. Besides, since when did you care about any of these lowlives and their family?” Nina spoke up, finding her voice and she crossed her arms across her chest. Those first two words had your breath caught in your lungs, gripping the edges of your night clothes and seeking reassurance from Inej beside you. She nodded with a smile, gesturing her chin to the conversation happening below them.

“Why would I?” Kaz shot back quickly, eyebrows furrowed and hands now resting on the desk, his entire leaning forward with threatening interest towards the subject at hand.

“When I lost Matthias, you gave me his cut. That’s a lot of money for one person, even if I lost more than everyone else. You gave it to me because of how much I sacrificed for the job and because I loved him. You love Y/N, whether you admit it or not. You’re deflecting your worry into anger when you should be with them right now, not yelling at us,” Nina punctuated every sentence with a point of her finger, being met with Jesper stifling a laugh and Kaz’s silent uncomfortability.

“How long, boss?” Jesper asked with sincere concern, stepping closer to the desk and knocking against it with a knuckle.

“What?” Kaz asked, confusion written across every scar, every wrinkle, every bruise and every pore of his face.

“How long have you loved Y/N? It stopped being practice for you and you sabotaged it because it was clouding your judgement and making you inefficient on jobs. That’s why you stopped asking for them on jobs, and that’s why you would get their cut, Brekker,” Nina explained, locking arms with Jesper and holding her pretty head high.

The possibility of Kaz Brekker returning your feelings and sabotaging himself sounded utterly absurd. Surely somebody like Kaz would embrace love, would burn the world down if it so much as harmed the person he loved. Kaz was fearless, he would never be afraid of being seen with the person he loved, surely. Right? Inej placed a ghosting hand on your back, her beautiful bronze skin cast in a warm glow and you stared at her, seeking counsel in her impossibly dark irises.

“What do I do?” You whispered to Suli girl.

#kaz brekker x you #kaz brekker x reader #kaz brekker x y/n #kaz brekker #six of crows #shadow and bone netflix #shadow and bone #grishaverse

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everythingelseisextra · 9 months

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No Harm

Part Twenty: Scar Tissue

Part Nineteen of Twenty-One Description: I don't know how to describe it without spoiling it. Just trust me and read it (if you can handle the trigger warnings. Don't push yourself if you don't want to) Warnings: references to rape, heavy implications of sexual assault, copious blood, violence, possibly bad writing (we'll see what ya'll think), references to drugging/drug use, PTSD, unedited, no children reference Word Count: 6234 Tag List:

@theshelbyslimited @ttaechi @weaponizedvirtue @majesticcmey @optimisticsandwichgladiator @zablife @princesssterek @mm0thie @callsignvenus @ay0nha @mgdixon @fairytale07 @dreamy-caramel @ce1iat @algae-tm @dragonsondragons @trentknd @nothingofsimplicity @babayaga67 @shelbydelrey @globetrotter28 @look-at-the-soul @notalxx @chaengist @cookiez56-blog @skxawngs @h0neylemon

But come here, fear.

I am alive and you are so afraid of dying.

Joy Harjo- I Give You Back

You are an animal.

Terrified, backed into a corner, tearing out your own hair, hissing and spitting and trembling. There’s blood dripping from broken skin, bruised, and handprints on your wrists, your neck, your hips.There’s a throbbing burn branded onto your neck, which will be used to identify you, if you were to escape again. There are no clear thoughts in your mind, just the primal terror of reliving a twisted childhood, of your body abused and used for the pleasure of men who laugh when you scream. Aching pain shoots through you with every breath, left over from the fight, from the battle you lost, from the autonomy you had no choice but to let them steal. It took four of them to hold you down.

The date-rape drug they administered slowly wears off, and you know that, soon, there will be a man. Or two, or three, that’ll enter this room where you sit with your legs curled up to your chest and your back pressed against the joint of two walls, and take you as they want. You know this. You know that most ‘clients’ want the women conscious, but not enough to fight. You know that, once it’s over, they’ll send you back into that drowsy, paralyzed state, or, worse, get you hopped up on cocaine or some other upper, so that you rely on them, so that you can’t leave.

You don’t think about why you did this. You don’t think about the man you love, that you saved, you don’t think about the boy and the maid, the innocents. You don’t think about how they could’ve fought for you, would’ve fought for you to the grave, until everything around them was burnt to the ground, just to keep you safe. You don’t think about how, either way, there would’ve been a sacrifice. Your mind is static that you cannot hear through, and you are small, so small, insignificant compared to the great, monstrous fear that steals you from your body and sits you on your own shoulder to watch the violence take place. Once again, your skin grows far too thick for your soul, your consciousness, and all the pain echoes out towards emptiness, not towards you.

You would like to be able to make something beautiful out of this, to twist your suffering into something bright and bold and brilliant, but you can’t. Some things are just too dark to reflect brilliance. Some things absorb the light you try to bring to them.

There’s no light in this room. You blink blankly through the darkened space, the bed next to you cleansed from its last bloody usage. From beneath the closed bathroom door, some light shines, flickering from a candle inside, lit to fend off the scent of sweat and sex and terror. False sweetness wafts out to you, your curled body still shaking. Your senses don’t seem to be working, shut down by the pure overwhelm, your eyes wide but unseeing. But, still, every little noise, every footstep in the hallway, every creak of the wooden floors, every murmur of voices through the thin walls sets you on fire, your whole body tensing, so scared it’s painful.

You don’t believe in God, but you pray anyway. Some part of you, beyond the static, moves your lips in soundless begging. You want to die before it happens again. You want the pain to stop, and you want to feel clean again, to feel whole and free, like you did before. Before this.

Your eyes flick to the bathroom door, the light shimmering at the crack on the bottom. Chills slide down your back and you shiver as the faint sound of someone trying keys in the lock on your door reaches you. You only have a moment.

You stand on trembling legs and stride awkwardly over to the bathroom, your body flaring in too many places for you to truly feel all of them. Inside, sitting serenely on the vanity table across from the standing tub, the candle burns inside a glass casing. You blink at it, a twisting of emotions squeezing your guts in your abdomen. It feels like mercy.

You lift the candle and, quickly, as the door opens behind you, crack the glass on the tub. A shard falls into it, and you reach down wildly to grab it and hold it up. Thick, sharp. You glance down at the candle, and, for good measure, throw it at the wall behind you, hoping, praying, that the fire catches. That the other women hidden in this hotel are given the chance to run free, perhaps from one tragedy to another, perhaps not even. Perhaps the only thing you’ll be given them is a way out of their hell, a slow, melting death, or a look at the night sky before being brought back into captivity.

Then, slowly, you creep out of the bathroom, the blade of glass held in one hand, the edges cutting into your palm. There, standing in the darkness, silhouetted by the light of the bathroom, is a large, looming man, his eyes on you. He steps back, looking to the door, and opens his mouth, about to sound the alarm. In that moment, something in you switches. You change from prey to predator, from victim to inflictor, from slave to slaver. With two quick steps, you clear the distance between you and lunge at him, one fluid movement, and send the shard of glass into the one target you can fully see; his eye. He howls as you shove it into the socket, trying to shatter it inside of his eye. Hands grab at you and you find yourself being thrown bodily to the ground. You look up to see him lumbering around, one hand tearing at the glass in his eye, the other reaching out to support himself on one of the walls.

You skitter backwards, dragging your exhausted body across the ground like a woman possessed like the old days, and retreat once more into the bathroom. There, a fire blooms, bright and undying, licking up the corner of the room and eating at the wooden walls. You reach into the bathtub and grab as many shards of glass as you can, holding them to your chest like you would a baby, cradling them as they cut into your skin. Now armed, you stand, look out into the room where light now floods from the open front door. More men.

You tear out of the bathroom, a wild thing bewitched by the need to survive and self-defend, and take one of the shards of glass in your dominant hand, wielding it like you’ve known your whole life how to kill. Which, in a way, you have.

There are two men in the room. The first comes at you, his hand going to a holster on his hip, and you react without thinking. You throw your entire body weight on him, pushing him to the ground with a running start, and, suddenly, you’re hacking at his face with the glass. It breaks into pieces in your hand, but you don’t feel the pain, don’t feel the slivers sliding deeper into your skin.

The second man grabs your shoulders and pulls you back, shouting something you don’t understand, and, suddenly, you’re underneath him, his fist drawn back. He must’ve missed the glass held to your chest, for you grab one and stab up blindly. His fist comes down on your face regardless and your nose cracks; he hits hard and fast. You scream, a feral sound, and, as he draws his fist back a second time, you stab again, and this time, you meet your mark.

He falters, and you take the opportunity to slip out from underneath him and start for the door, only to slow to a stop at the sight of the first man with the ruined face, twitching with a pool of blood around him on the ground. The fire crackles behind you, beginning to spread outwards, and you make your decision. Scampering over to him, you kneel down and rummage through his clothes, looking, seeking, trying to find it. Your hand lands on cold metal and you yank.

You stare down at it, then look up as the second man stumbles towards you. A shard of glass sticks out of his abdomen, blood dripping around it, his white dress shirt dyed, and, before you think about it, before you consider the consequences, you smile, point, and pull the trigger.

He drops, and so do you, unused to the recoil. You rise quickly, your chest roaring with pain, and stumble to the doorway. Your nose throbs and blood cascades down your front, but you wipe at it with the back of your hand and steady on. The fire follows you, loyal and tame for now, but soon to become a monster, a cruel, mindless killer.

Shouts fill the hallway; they heard your gunshot. Hoping against hope that you have enough ammo to fight your way through, you start down the hallway, choosing to go left at the chance that, maybe, that’ll lead to an entrance. And hoping that you don’t find yourself in a deadend.

You breathe slowly, trying to calm your pounding heart. You’re the one with the gun. You fought your way out of your cage and are out, wild once more, prepared to fight again and again to keep your freedom. Or, if not, if you find yourself in a corner once again, you’re the one with the gun. You can take yourself out, if that’s what it takes, if that’s what you must do to keep yourself out of entrapment.

Up ahead, a group of men wander out of an opening to your left, and your heart sinks. Too many of them. Far too many of them for you to take down on your own. Even if they’re not affiliated with the slavers, you stand out, blood dripping down your body, glass shards stuck out of your hand, arm, and bits of your chest. You put your head down and fall still, closing your eyes for a moment, then, slowly, you look up.

What does one do, then, when facing a goliath? What do you do when you’re scared senseless, pushed far beyond what any person should have to endure? What do you do when you know you can’t win, when you know it’s a losing battle, when you know the other side won’t listen to your screams?

What has humanity always done, when we face the impossible? When we looked to the room and wished to land in the stars. When Gods clashed and people sobbed, when David faced his opponent with next to nothing to defend himself with? When wars ravaged the world and dreamers died and the sky met the sea in a flare of raging fire?

What do we do when the surrender is obvious, but hope still lives?

We fight.

Tooth and nail, we fight. Until the end, when there’s nothing left to fight for, we clash and refuse to go quiet into that good night. We rage against the will of fate and show it that the human heart endures more than anything anyone could possibly imagine. We scream into the face of God and tell them to try us one more time, try again, see what happens.

We fight.

And so will you.

You let out a breath, and you savor it, and for a moment, you belong to yourself again. For a moment, you’re so wrapped up in ferocity and hope and despair that you claim your body back. And you will not let it die here, and you will not let it be taken back.

Your younger self stands in the fire behind you, watching as you walk slowly towards this group of men, blinking up at you with terrified eyes as you stand and protect her, as you fight for the freedom she never got to have, as you give back all the terror and confusion and awful, horrific pain that you felt growing up. Your younger self will watch as, one way or another, you find deliverance.

You hold the gun up, aim, and prepare to pull the trigger as the first man sees you. His eyes widen and his lips move and they fall still, staring back at you in silence. Some of their gazes drop to the ground. Some of them step back. And others simply watch you, quiet and soft, with simple looks of respect on their faces.

You pause, your finger resting on the trigger. The first man slowly shakes his head, then, glancing at the others, slowly leans down and places his weapon on the ground in front of him. A surrender. The others follow suit, almost seeming to bow to you as they place their guns on the floor. The first one looks over to you once more, chest rising and falling slowly, as if in a sigh or meditation.

You won’t drop your weapon. You won’t give up the only thing you have to protect yourself. You won’t give away your liberty so easily. What does it say about the world you live in that the only way to earn your autonomy is to carry a gun? What does it say about you that you have to fight so viciously to keep yourself safe? Were you simply chosen to be this rabid dog, this creature with claws and teeth, this monster? Or is this what it means to be alive?

But you lower it, just slightly, to try to meet his eyes. A tremble shoots through you, then another, and suddenly you’re shuddering, the adrenaline you had slowly running out. Your injured body wants badly to give out, to crumple to the ground and surrender. But you can’t. You sway on your feet, your shaking body unstable, and catch yourself. Your head hangs again, but you stare up through your hair to face them.

“We’re friends,” the first man says, stepping towards you.

You shake your head and stumble back towards the fire, lifting the gun again. Crackling heat flickers on your back, and warms the aching muscles that whine relentlessly.

“We’re sent by Tommy. By Alfie.” He speaks to you softly, in the same voice you use to soothe a spooked horse. “We’re friends. We need you to come with us. You’ve made our job a whole lot easier.”

You find yourself stepping back again, and the heat grows harsher, almost painful on your bones. It brings light to the shards of glass stuck in your body, tiny fires shining in them, and you think that, if you were to die, burning would be suitable. Your whole life, you think, you’ve been burning one way or another. One way or another, you’ve been alight.

“Please.” He puts his hands up, palms facing you, trying to show himself to be weaponless, free of anything that could harm you. “Let us help you.”

Again, you shake your head. You’ve seen how these men coerce women into their trust. You’ve seen the soft words and casual conversation, the charm and the chivalry, the humor. You’ve seen others get drawn into this underground hell you’ve known for too long. And you’ve seen how easy it is for them to seem so kind, so easy-going, so helpful.

You will not be manipulated.

He glances back at the other men, who watch him warily, then he raises a hand and sends them off with a swift gesture. They turn and walk away, leaving him standing alone.

You, surrounded by fire, and him, at the end of the wooden hallway. Darkness and light. You can’t let him win, even if it means being consumed.

“I— I don’t want to use force, but I will.” He steps towards you again.

Your jaw tightens and you raise your gun again, staring over it at him, ready to pull the trigger at any sign of him moving closer. It’s a broken kind of fear you feel, that forces you to hurt others. Kill or be killed.

“Please. Please. I know— They told me that you like horses, right?”

You tilt your head, waiting for him to continue, second-guessing every word he speaks.

“Right, well, Tommy had them taken care of yesterday, he said Iris is improving, I— I don’t know, please. Please come with me.”

At the name of the horse, you lower your gun. They look into the women they take, yes, but they would have no way of finding out the gray horse’s name unless it came straight from you or Tommy. No one else was there to witness his naming, no one else was there to know he was given to you in such a way.

“Yes. Yes. It’s okay. I won’t hurt you. We won’t hurt you. Just— we’ll get you out of here. We’ll do our jobs and then we can all go home, right? We can all go home.” He steps towards you once again. “Just put the gun down. You don’t need it. You won’t need it.”

You shake your head, your shaking hand tightening on the grip of the gun. There’s a heart beating in your throat and a shuddering sensation running through your muscles, like you’re about to collapse.

“Okay. Okay, you can keep the gun, just— let’s go, okay? Let’s just go.”

The fire surrounds you. You step forward, shying away from the extreme heat, and before you give yourself full permission, you’re moving towards him. You hold the gun up, the barrel pointing at his chest, an extra precaution to soothe your staticky mind. He nods and backs away, still facing you, then, after a moment, he turns and starts down the hallway.

It’s a winding, maze-like building. You were brought in fighting, squirming and biting and scratching, doing anything you could think of to keep them off of you, out of you. You don’t remember the way out. For all you know, he could be leading you somewhere where he can keep you trapped, keep you compliant. He could be leading you to an ambush, where they’ll take you across the country and hide you somewhere you’ll never be found.

Instead, you find yourself passing wooden doors, and seating areas, and even a phone sitting on a small table, and then, finally you end in the lobby. There’s people pushing to get out the door, trying to escape the fire you started, their shouts and exclamations filling the small room. The man in front of you pauses, then steps sideways, out of your way, to allow you a view of the full room. You expect to see the group of men who you’d seen before, but, instead, you find cold blue eyes locked onto you. In front of the chaos of people shoving out the door, dead still despite the racket and riot, he stands and watches you, expressionless, as if painted, frozen in a moment. And you stare back, trembling, still a creature of panic and violence. The room around you seems to fall silent, the rush of people flooding out slows. Your pain throbs. Your vision blurs. You shake. Red blood drips from your wounds and stains you from the lives you’d taken in a feral, terrified mania. And there isn’t a drop on him, no sign of a fight on his end, just a pristine blue three-piece suit.

A lump forms in your throat. You take a deep, shaking breath and watch fearfully as he approaches you, his steps slow, his eyes on you, trying to read the expression on your battered and blood-covered face.

Before he reaches you, there’s a gunshot, and all the motion and sound comes avalanching back onto you. Tommy stumbles, falling momentarily to one knee before staggering back to his feet. He turns to face the men who stand at the other entrance to the lobby, one of which holds the gun that shot the bullet that ripped through his shoulder, for the second time in two days.

Now there’s blood on him, soaking the fabric into a deep, liquid purple. Your hand grips the gun in your hand and there’s a burning sensation in your veins, in your muscles, in your mind, propelling you to step forward and fight for him, but the moment is gone, and the man with the gun is speaking.

“Put your hands above your head, and we’ll talk.” He gestures with his gun, moving it upward in a fashion that doesn’t beg for questions.

Tommy does as he says, slowly moving his hands upwards. “There are men who have orders to return here if—”

“Then we better make this quick.” He smiles a toothy grin. “We know where you live, Mr. Shelby. There are men positioned at your property, ready to trigger an explosion that’ll wipe your home off the map. You leave here, call off your men, and we’ll do the same. No one will need to know what happened here. Or…” he tilts his head. “Or we let you take that monster of a woman, and you get halfway home before you find yourself dead in hell, where you belong.”

Tommy’s hand is pressed down on his injured shoulder, trying to stem the blood that gushes wetly. “That’s quite the plan you have.”

His words come unbothered, unworried. Casual, almost.

“You have a choice. Make it now.”

Tommy nods and opens his mouth to speak, but, as he does so, footsteps behind you steal your attention. You whip around and find two women, dressed as staff of the hotel. Your eyes flick over them, and your heart skips a beat. There’s bruises hidden beneath their sleeves, a pallid, drawn look to their faces. Eyes wide and pupils blown large, it’s clear they’re not fully aware of their situation, perhaps new, perhaps too drugged to be lucid.

You speak for the first time since you were taken. “Go. Go now. They’re distracted.”

They stare at you blankly, then look at each other. One of them, a young, pixie-ish woman, nods and speaks in a language you don’t understand. The other nods back, and the younger one looks to you again..

“You should come with us,” she says, voice faint and accented. “Come. While you can.”

You shake your head, looking back at Tommy, who wavers where he stands, face paler than usual. Losing too much blood. “I can’t. You go. I’ll be okay.”

“For a man?” She scoffs. “You’re as stupid as we were.”

“No,” you murmur. “You were never stupid.”

After a moment of silence, they pass by you, heads ducked, heading for the door. Your attention turns back to Tommy, and you realize with horror that he’s been stalling, waiting for something that might never happen, for the time to come for the men to return.

He hasn’t learned the way you have that no one, no one, is ever coming to save you. You have to do it yourself.

And, worse still, you see him fall to his knees, unable to hold himself up any longer, too dizzy from pain and blood loss. Without thinking, you walk slowly, languidly, and step in front of his knelt form, a shield between him and the men. You look up at them, find their eyes on you, and smile faintly. The gun is warm in your hand.

There’s laughter from a few of them, while others move towards the door, bored with the interaction. Disorganized, you think wearily. There’s probably no one at Arrow House. There’s probably no danger for Charlie or Frances. But you can’t bet on probably.

So, instead, you make a gamble of your own. “Liszt is coming.”

The quiet laughter goes silent. You hold your gun up, consider it, then, slowly, you hold it to your own head. The barrel presses into your hair and skin, warm. Beneath you, you hear Tommy let out a short breath.

“Liszt is coming. He and Alfie are old enemies, and he’s brought him back to Birmingham.” You’re lying as quickly and smoothly as you can, making things up on the fly, trying to base every phrase in some form of truth. “I don’t think he’d like to find his regained prized possession dead when he gets here, now, would he?”

“You’re holding yourself hostage.” The man laughs. “And you think we’ll believe you?”

“I might be lying.” You smile and tilt your head, moving the gun with you. You must be an image, blood-stained and bruised, dressed in ripped clothing, holding a gun to your own head.. “Then again, I might not be.”

He hesitates, his eyes flicking from you to Tommy behind you and back to you again. He shakes his head, then lifts his gun, pointing it directly at you. “I’ll kill you myself, then. I’ll fucking kill you myself. What’ll Liszt do? What’ll he—”

“He’ll kill you.” Your blood goes cold and you widen your stance, begging the universe that you’ll get your message across. “He’ll kill all of you. There’s no law for him.”

“Not if I kill him.” he gestures at Tommy. “If I kill him, I’ll be rewarded.”

You shake your head and move the gun off of your head, looking down at it for a moment, then aim it at the man. “I guess we’re at an impasse, then.”

Tommy crumples behind you and your lip twitches into a tiny smile before you can hide it. You watch the man’s finger on the trigger, watch it shift, watch the faint gesture of a tensing muscle preparing to shoot.

And the crack of a bullet flying fills the air and the world goes black.

—

No one is really sure how both you and Tommy made it out alive that day. You know two things: that the first bullet sent came from the ground between your legs, shot to kill the man in front of you, and that, when the rest of them came upon you, the last thing you saw was the two women from before rushing towards them to hold them off.

You’re lying in a hospital bed, about to be discharged. Light filters in through the windows, much brighter and cleaner than Tommy’s hospital when you were first getting to know each other. Strange, how he seems to care so much more about you than he does himself. There are other beds around you, but the curtains block your view of them. Some of your wounds, acquired through violent rape, were too private for your curtains to be open at all. Everywhere you look, there is white.

The brand on your neck has been bandaged and cleaned, the glass has been removed from your skin, and your broken nose has been set. You’ve refused any painkillers, and you’ve been unable to move for the ache of it, the sharp shots of feverish pain through your muscles and skin too intense. And the bullet that dug deep into the area just underneath your collarbone has been removed. Any further down and you’d be dead.

Every time a man enters your curtained space, you begin to shake. You remain calm and collected, your heart shuddering violently in your chest and your breath stolen by fear, but you don’t show it. You smile and speak as though nothing has happened, and the only thing that gives you away is the innate show of terror. Trembling, shaking, no matter how hard you try to still your aching bones. So, they send women. Nurses, mostly, soft spoken and smiling. They know what you’ve been through. Everyone who looks at you now will know, given the mark on your neck, the soon-to-be welts of painful burns branding you a victim.

A blond nurse who’s seen to you several times in the last day returns, sending you a small smile and a quiet greeting. She checks your vitals one final time, then helps you stand. You clutch at her hand to steady yourself, trying to get used to the pain that burns through your thighs, your abdomen, the bandaged wounds on your arms and neck and hands. You’re a mess.

She leads you down the hallway, down the stairs, and out into an unwelcoming world. This is the cleanest area he could’ve found to hospitalize you at, the best possible doctors serve here, and yet, you find your teeth chattering despite the warmer weather. You can’t fend off the shock of the sunlight, the innate fear of seeing people walking the streets, the overwhelm of senses as cars drive past. And, most importantly, you can’t stop the pure panic at the idea of seeing him again.

You’ve refused to let him visit you since the night before, when you returned to consciousness. The idea of being alone with a man, even one you trust, scares you more than you care to admit. There’s this feeling of being the only prey in a world of predators, like you’re a target to everyone you see, like the earth is covered in patterns of blood that only you can see. You’re terrified. Truly, you’re terrified.

And, thus, the shaking starts again as you’re led to the Bentley, sitting quietly in front of the hospital. And there he is. He gets out of the drivers seat and walks over, and you step back unconsciously, trying to create space between you, to get out of arm’s reach. His eyes flick to you, emotionless, and he opens the passenger side door. You slip inside, the hair on the back of your neck raising, chills running down your spine.

He gets in, and suddenly, the world feels far, far too small. You’re trapped in a small space with someone who could easily overpower you. You close your eyes and let in a breath that sounds a little more like a gasp as the car pulls away from the hospital. You try to stop the shaking, try to subdue yourself, wishing that you could be sedated somehow, wishing that you could be calm. You know him. Better than you know anyone. He would never hurt you.

You open your eyes, and you stare straight out of the windshield, refusing to look at him. Your blood is running cold, the feeling of light-headedness coming back to you as you struggle to breathe. In your line of sight, you see him, see his eyes flicking to you and back to the road, and then to you again. You see his eyes fall to your hands, bandaged and pulling on each other in your lap. You see him track the pattern of your shivering, the ebb and flow of motion that forces you to be in constant unease. You feel guilty. This is not his fault, this terror, and you know he feels like it is. You know he thinks you’re afraid of him specifically, not the rest of the world, not the unknown, not the pressing walls of the car.

You drive in silence for some time, moving at a slow, steady speed. He makes no quick movements, smokes no cigarettes, shows no sign of emotion but for the slight tenseness of his jaw. The hand nearest to you is on the wheel, the one on the other side resting on the seat next to his thigh. You reach the countryside. The sun hovers high above the low grass, bringing it from green to slight brown, and you feel the summer coming, the death of the greenery around you for the sake of warmth.

Your eyes are closed when the car falls to a stop. Your blood freezes over, and you don’t open your eyes. You haven’t driven far enough to have reached Arrow House. This, you think, this is when your fear is confirmed. No, it can’t be, it’s Tommy, the only person you’ve allowed to touch you in literal years. But, still, you fear the consequences of your vulnerability, you fear how easily he could take advantage. He would never. But he might. He would never. But he could. And you could do nothing about it.

“Let’s walk.” He slips out of the car, walks around to open your door. “Come on.”

You stare at him, your shaking intensifying with the proximity. “What?”

“Let’s walk,” he says again.

“Okay.”

His tone tells you nothing, no hint of his intentions. You awkwardly lower yourself from the car, wavering as your feet touch the ground. On instinct, it seems, he reaches out to steady you. You flinch away, almost violently, and his jaw tightens. Without another word, he turns and walks off. You take a moment to calm yourself, then follow, each step aching where you were torn and bruised and battered.

“Tommy,” you croak out. “Tommy, please.”

He slows to allow you to catch up, but you keep a distance between you regardless, too worried to close the gap. He watches you expectantly, his eyes flicking over your face, reading you like an open book. Your heart is on your sleeve; he can see everything, all the fear you feel, the panic and the guilt. And, still, you shake.

“I’m sorry,” you gasp, wavering in place, trying to hold yourself together. “I’m sorry. I’m— I don’t know— I don’t know what’s happening.”

He steps towards you, his mouth opening slightly, one hand lifting, then falling by his side. You’re so fragile, you think. You’re so damn fragile that he’s scared to break you, scared to touch you. As he should be. You really are close to an edge that you don’t understand how to back away from.

You take a deep, shaking breath, your body stilling for a second, maybe two, before trembling again. “Please, don’t— don’t leave me. Don’t walk away. I’m— It’s just so fresh, Tom, I don’t know how else to be. I’m trying to calm down and I can’t, I’m just so scared and I can’t control it. I can’t control it. And it’s not your fault, it’s not, and I can’t even look at you—”

You break off in a small, hiccuping sob, then shake your head, trying to rid yourself of the emotion. You wrap your arms around yourself, begging the world or whatever God will listen to help you, to make him understand.

He’s quiet for a moment before speaking. “You remember when I called you. When I needed help.”

It’s a statement, not a question, but you nod anyway.

“I needed a reason. Something to hold onto. Some kind of fucking hope in a hopeless world. And then you came into my life.” His voice softens. “I don’t know how to help you, my love, but I promise you I will try. In any way I can, I will be there. It is my fault, some of it. So, no matter how you change, no matter how fearful you become, I will stay by your side. I will do you no harm. Remember?”

You nod again, lip trembling with the rest of you, holding back tears.

“Tragedy seems to love you as much as I do, eh?” There’s a faint smile on his lips, a sad one, almost as shaky as yours is.

Finally, you manage to look at him, meeting his eyes. They’re blue and cold but inside, deep inside, there’s something of a fire, of a star, consuming itself to burn. For the first time, you understand, that star burns for you. That light is there because you are, and as long as you’re with him, you’ll get to see the beauty of it.

You like that he looks at you like no one else could ever compare. It almost stills your trembling, at least for a moment, and you sigh, relieved.

Slowly, tentatively, like a newly gentled horse approaching a human for the first time, you walk towards him. Your gaze is on the ground, your heart in your throat. You’re battered and broken and deeply, deeply hurt. There are scars in places you didn’t know you had, buried deep in the halls of your mind, but somewhere in there, there’s a matching ember, a matching star to his.

Hope, you think. That’s what it is. That’s what you give to each other. You are two people who inspire each other to keep living, to keep moving on, and that’s the closest definition you can think of to love.

You reach him. His eyes flick over your nose, now bumpy and held in place by a brace, and the bandage on your neck, then find their way back to your eyes. Then he nods, and starts to walk again, slowly this time, allowing you to keep pace. You stay with him, eyes on the horizon, and you feel yourself leaning instinctually towards him, despite the shaking of your body, despite the lack of breath in your lungs.

“Can I hold your hand?” The question comes under his breath, barely spoken.

You reach out and take his hand, yours battered and bandaged and painful, his callused and scarred. And you walk towards the blue horizon, and slowly, your shaking starts to still.

Always. Always, you’ll walk together like this.

Hand in unlovable hand.

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