#ocean four capital

[cipheramnesia]

I wish there was a single word to describe the way anything, the instant it falls into investor hands, takes a massive quality nosedive, absolutely scorcher earth unusable. While simultaneously any time any single one of those investors or major shareholders makes any kind of public comment, without being filtered through several public relations experts, about literally anything at all, they reveal they have a grasp of the world similar to a four year old, but with far less ability for self reflection or basic reasoning. And, parallel to this, the only positive qualities of whatever the investors sullied turn out to come exclusively from middle to bottom tier employees fighting tooth and nail for a shred of product quality, enduring a monsoon of ridicule from said investors who subsequently take credit for the minor uptick in quality for something they remain determined to ruin. And at no point does anyone on the investor end even by accident consider themselves the source of the commensurate nosedive in consumers and profit, despite mountains, oceans, galaxies of evidence piled around them.

There should be like one derogatory word for this, and don't say "capitalism" because no investor thinks of capitalism as derogatory.

[toothfa-1-ry]

METAMORPHOSIS -finnick odair

The capital has a way of messing up with your head. Finnick saw it happen to him, he saw it happen to Peeta and worst of all, he had to see it happen to you too

GENRE: Angst

PAIRING: Finnick Odair x gn reader,

WARNING: PTSD, mental illness and abuse, suicidal thoughts, self harm on Finnick's part, reader want through a lot of psychological abuse and physical abuse, Finnick has panic attacks basically very hunger games coated abuses

A/N: back in for a hot minute with the new release of a the ballad of songbirds and snakes! I seem to be pulled back into the hunger games lol however since it's been a pretty long time since I've read or watch the movies this fic is probably not going to be accurate at all! Also I have no idea how to end this fic so I just did it in a hurry. I don't rlly like how it came out but oh well!

You weren't supposed to get taken away

You weren't supposed to fall back down behind, you weren't supposed to be left behind while Finnick was distracted talking to Katniss.

Finnick wasn't supposed to leave you behind, he was supposed to stay by your side just like he promised. He wasn't supposed to let you be taken away and yet your there stuck in the capitol while he lies with wounds all over his body in the 13 district

It should have been him, he thinks, that maybe if he had switch places with you in that moment, that he was right next to you instead of ahead of you, that he would pulled you towards him, maybe..maybe you would be there next to him.

Maybe you would be lieing next to him, perhaps is bruises and wounds as bad as his but atleast the both of you would be safe in each others arms.

Finnick knows that he should get out of his room. The plain cold room with grey walls seem to surround him on all four sides and yet his grief seems to swallow him as a whole

The ringing sound in his ears continue relentlessly and the tremble in his hands refuse to go. He'd find himself picking his scabbed scars and almost healed wounds and waking up in the dead of night screaming. He finds himself scarring his once golden skin which now seemed rusted with red and all of his old wounds once which was kissed by you being reopened at the dead of night.

He screamed screamed for you, every night and even while he was awake he seemed to be mumbling your name over and over again under his breath. As if believing that if he did so that maybe you'd appear infront of him and tell him it's just a bad dream

Sometimes he'd be forced out of his room, sometimes it's by Haymitch or some other person. He couldn't care less, however he was also a beacon of hope for the people maybe not flaming as bright as Katniss the girl on fire but rather hope like the beach waves hitting the shore

But you were different. You were a different kind of hope, not burning bright and flaming with fumes like Katniss or calm and majestic in all its glory like Finnick but you were like moon.

Hope like the moon in the dark night sky guiding travelers for the past million centuries, sailors, prophets and even kings and helping them find way back to their homes, to their solace. You were the light in the dark, a elegant beam of radiance showing way even to a poor man.

You were Finnick's light. The only thing that helped him see, the only time he felt truly like himself not like the capitols charming prince, or the victor from the 4th district but rather just like plain Finnick. The boy who had golden tan skin, hair dry with salty sea water, the boy who smelled like the sea ans the boy he once was before the capitol got a hold of him.

Like the moon's reflection on the ocean bed in the calm, you were a beam of radiance to him that helped him sleep in night, safe and sound..and loved.

He misses you more than he remembered you. And it scared Finnick.

Being forced out was now a usual thing for Finnick. Being forced to sit in a cafeteria with a plate of food which would go cold and remain uneaten.

He usually stayed alone still away from the others which was unlike him but his mind would be plagued with the last look you gave him, his ears repeating your mortifying scream

Sometimes he'd talk to Katniss. She understood him, after all her Peeta was taken away to just you were taken away. Both Finnick and Katniss blamed themselves more than they should have,

He thinks, at first that he is a little envious of Katniss and the way she looks strong. She holds herself in a way he doesn't. He thinks, how does she do it? How does Katniss remain like a fire burning torch when Peeta the person she adores the most is gone like how you were

But then he hears a familiar voice, he sees a all too familiar face across the tv screen and he is immediately filled with desperation and dread. He looks at Peeta's stoic and unmoving face on the tv screen and he feels the tremble beginning in his hands again.

The capitol couldn't have..could they? They wouldn't have- they couldn't have done it. They didn't kill Peeta but..they seemed to have done something even worser

Finnick's thoughts are left troubled when it was disturbed a loud sound of a metallic plate dropping and a cry of despair

He sees Katniss, her tears and the way her hands fly towards her mouth and try to cover her cry.

Thats when he notices the bags under her eyes and the cuts on her hand. He notices the way her heart sank just like his did and he notices the way Katniss called out Peeta's name. He remembers the way she held him in the games and the way she begged him to live

He thinks, maybe they aren't so different at all.

"he's alive..he's alive" Katniss whispers under her breath and Finnick's holds his, his eyes scan the tv screen scanning for your face whi- and he sees it.

Your face in the background, your hair combed and slicked backed tightly into a bun. Your faced filled with white powdery makeup making you look almost as if you were a corpse. Your eyes seemed scarily full and your lips dry.

But you weren't dead, but you didn't really seem alive either.

The fact that you were alive had a unsettling feeling in Finnick but right now he couldn't care, you were alive and breathing

"y/n" Finnick breaths out as he runs towards the screen with no hesitation. His mind is no longer on Katniss or Peeta or the capitol but at you and your face.

His trembling fingers slowly trace your face as he cries your name out repeatedly, he isn't listening to what Peeta is saying or all the commotion in the back

Your alive.

"they're back! Peeta, Johanna and y/n they- they're back"

Finnick runs faster than he has ever done in his entire life.

Faster than he did in the hunger games or faster than he did from the capitol people after they were done with their business with him in their bedrooms.

He throws down whatever he was holding in his hands, leaves whatever thought was occupying his head and runs faster than he ever did

He doesn't care about whether he hit someone or if he was making too much noise. He cried your name out as he ran calling you, searching for you before opening the door with a bang, his eyes red with tears and trembling body.

He sees you in a wheelchair lying lifelessly in the the chair which held your body.

He doesn't notice the way everyone else in the room looks at him, Haymitch, the doctors or nurses or even Johanna who was sitting in a similar wheelchair a few metres away from you. They way they all immediately stood up straight and their body tense, the way their faces were looking at him with pity

Finnick feels as if though he had stopped breathing, every single bone in his body moves automatically. The tears stream across his golden skin as his hands itch to touch you

All he needs is you. All he needs is your touch, your warmth

He runs towards you unaware of the way you tensed up when you saw him, he shouts your name as his hands stretch out to finally hold you, he begs for forgiveness again and again but finds you shaking instead

"Finnick don't go near her- wait Finnick don't" Beetee's immediate warning fails when you start thrashing against Finnick's touch

"y/n?- y/n my love? What's wrong?" Finnick panics as he tries to calm you down as you shout and scream

Just a few seconds ago you were silent and unmoving refusing to speak but here you were with Finnick, screaming and crying trying to get away from him like he was a monster

"my love please-" Finnick begs as his hands touches your face, the panic in his voice and the tears unhidden from anyone. The despair and regret dripping from his words and unhelpful touches which seem to drive you insane even more

"away! Get away from me! I- get away! away!" You try to push Finnick away but your not that strong. You seem to be repeating the same things again and again but you shake your head and scream even louder than before

"Finnick let go of her- don't Finnick!" Finnick's hears the others shouting at him but he can't let you go, not when you don't even recognise him

"it's me- it's me y/n. It's Finnick your sweetheart" his voice cracks at the nickname you gave him, his eyes search for a second of recognition or even love but your eyes are filled with terror and fear

"y/n it's me! I'm here now! I'm sorry I'm never going to let you go- please y/n..it's me" he begs and pleads you but you don't stop resisting against him even going lengths of hitting him with your hands helplessly

"Finnick let go!" Finnick hears Haymitch shout as he pulls him away from you "she isn't the same y/n you know- the capitol played with her mind"

Finnick feels his entire world go cold, his skin gone numb and his brain feels all muddy. There's a dark deep sinking feeling in his gut as he watches you look at him in complete fear, crawling away from him and into the corner of the room hugging yourself

Finnick takes a few steps towards you but is fiercely pushed away by a agitated Johanna "get the fuck away from her Finnick!"

Johanna glares at Finnick alongside with everyone in the room before she runs to the corner you were sobbing in and cradles you in her arms muttering "don't touch us, don't touch us" again and again.

"what- what do you mean? What's going on?" He turns and looks at the faces in the roomwhich was responded with a nervous glance. Finnick feels his blood boil and his anger consume him

"I said what do you mean" he shouts "what the hell happened" his eyebrows furrowed as he watches Betee struggled to form sentences

"we- we don't know exactly what happened" Betee says as he motions towards you and Johanna who was rocking you in her arms, shooting everyone in the room dirty looks still repeating the same words

"but-"

"but what? what...what happened to my y/n why.. why does she seem afraid of me? Why is she scared-" His voice cracks before he began to sob uncontrollably "why?"

The room goes silent and all that could be heard was Finnick's sobs and yours alongside with Johanna's muttering.

Haymitch walks slowly to Finnick and holds him in the shoulder "I think..you should sit down somewhere while we talk about this" he says grimly as he turns around and gives looks at the rest of the people in the room to give them some space

Finnick's breathing is shallow as he listens to Betee. The more he listens the more he wishes that he were dead, that it was all fake. He wishes even more that it was him who was taken into the capitol and regret and anger fills him up

"the capitol obviously wasn't going to let it slide, I mean y/n she- she was the capital's sweetheart. She was one of their favourite victor and seeing her being a part of the uprising? Snow would have never let her or any of them for the fact go unscarred but, we never expected this much"

Betee continues in a whisper, he stops every 2 minutes and looks at Finnick to say something but Finnick would always remain silent and unmoving.

"Johanna she- she's developed this insane fear of water- she was drowned multiple times by the capital and Peeta he..he was also brainwashed. He has developed this insane hatred for Katniss."

"and y/n?" Finnick finally broke his silence "what did they do to her?" You could hear the desperation leaking from his voice, his voice at the verge of breaking

Betee seemed to be hesitant to say, often refusing to make eye contact with Finnick but he sighed and looked straight at him

"y/n was strapped. She was strapped into this machine and they kept on fiddling with her memories. She couldn't differentiate with what was real and what wasnt. They inserted this entire new plot into her head which she now believes some parts of it to be true"

Finnick breathing stopped, a chill ran down his spine as he internally begged that it was not what he was thinking of

Betee looks up to Finnick with sadness and guilt painted in his eyes, he didn't want to break it to Finnick this way. He knew how much it would hurt him

"Finnick" Haymitch says instead, choosing to be the one to break the news to Finnick "y/n, she's scared of you. Just like how Peeta has developed hate for Katniss, y/n has developed fear towards you."

A all too familiar feeling came over Finnick. He was where he was in the beginning. He was nothing but a monster, a killer, a damaged product before you came along and showed him a new path but he had to ruin everything. He had to break you too, he had to ruin you too, it was all his fault

Panic engulfed Finnick as it hit his very core, today was the day he got you back and yet today was also the day he seemed to have forever lost you

"but-" he trembles as he talks "but why- what did they show her? What did I do to her" his breathing becomes fast

"it's not your fault" Haymitch says as Betee nods his head "we're trying to figure that out right now"

"is it only me?" Finnick's blood shot eyes pierce Betee's "am I the only person she's scared of?"

"she's scared of everything and everyone except for Johanna. Johanna was the only one who was there to comfort her but Johanna herself isn't in the right mind right now either" Betee replies

"oh" Finnick's voice is empty and hollow, he doesn't want to ask the question but it seems inevitable "will she ever stop being scared of me?"

Finnick is scared of Betee's answer, his heart hammered agains his chest in panick "do you think..I can get her back?"

Betee purses his lips as he continues "it won't ever be the same Finnick. Y/n.. whatever they implanted in her head has been recognised as real to her now but if we keep on pressing on with the truth maybe" he looks hopefully at Finnick "maybe you could get a piece of her back, not fully but a fragment of her"

"I just..I just want her, I don't care if it's a piece of her or whatever. I just..I want her to be okay"

Betee just nods his head wordlessly as he watches Finnick break down. Right infront of him was probably the strongest person he ever knew, he watched him during his games, watched him become victor and knew everything he went through but he never saw Finnick this broken.

"I'm going to get her back" Finnick says "if that's the last thing I ever do I swear, she's going to be okay"

[elsvenus]

𝐓𝐑𝐈𝐏𝐋𝐄 𝐃𝐎𝐆 𝐃𝐀𝐑𝐄 ✷ 𝐄𝐋𝐋𝐈𝐄 𝐖𝐈𝐋𝐋𝐈𝐀𝐌𝐒

𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐚𝐦𝐬 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 ✷ reaped from district seven - lumber - ellie williams is set out to win the hunger games no matter what cost, regardless of her feelings towards a certain district four tribute ✷ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 0.7 ✷ 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: set in the hunger games universe, mixed characters from different media you may recognize, slow burn, eventual graphic mentions of death, blood, murder, assault amongst other hard themes

← (𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐮𝐞) 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐨𝐧𝐞 →

𝟎𝟎. 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐏𝐈𝐍𝐆

DISTRICT FOUR

The first thing that had struck you from Abby was her perpetual smell of sea water, as though it’d ooze off her pores at any second, and every whiff, every touch, was a christening of your head, beneath it to rise for a purer soul. Her caress to your cheeks were especially engraved by wrinkled fingertips from ocean exposure and when she’d leave the waves towards the shore of open arms every droplet that slid down her body onto yours was a sacred nature branding, burning itself onto your features until your brain was uncertain whether Abby smelled of sea or sea of her, and you likewise, covered. It was the first thing missing when she came back from her games a victor. Your Abby, scentless. Flowery.

You twist the blonde locks of Abby’s hair between your fingers while she hums impatient. The rose scent of her shampoo fills your nostrils and bleeds anxiety into your chest, quickly brushed off for the continuous motion of braiding, a distracting pattern safe haven. For a moment your lip quirks up, a tease by the tip of your tongue about her Capital perks and otherworldly strawberry scented imported lotions she promised to share and still hid away from you during visits. She would not tell you it was to preserve the same thing from you, the homeliness she’d only find buried deep into your neck, peace she’d never get back as she hoped every night of sleep in your arms awoke nostalgia that’d overpower nightmares of brutal savagery. The Victor’s Village was off limits to a commoner such as yourself but Abby batted her eyelashes and District Four peacekeepers turned a blind eye, or so you both thought.

“I got you something” Abby whispers, pulling away from your grasp as she feels your hands tug the end of her hair into the perfected hairstyle. The blonde leans over the shelving of the house far too big for an orphan in these districts, painted shades of white and blues, hardly decorated by the elite designers assigned, too busy assembling new units in the near invincible districts One and Two, and brings you a small box “It’s your last year at a reaping, so I got it for good luck”

A starfish necklace. You gasp as it lays on your hand delicately before Abby makes the first move of adorning you in it. For the first time since she has been back from her games the blonde takes your face into her hands and presses a kiss onto your lips, so soft it ghosts over them long after she is gone, the missed sensation weighing down your eyelids.

“Do I look pretty?” You twirl around jokingly and Abby can only nod, sucking in her bottom lip between two front teeth “All the odds are in my favor with you, Abs, relax”

When your name is called out during the reaping ceremony all you can feel are the hands of the peacekeepers by your waist, escorting you, and the metal of your starfish by your neck. All you can hear, however, are Abby’s screams.

DISTRICT SEVEN

There is sweat dripping down her forehead onto her eyelids, thick layers coating every inch of skin until it morphed itself a new layer of it, a wet armour. And there’s a moment where the heat and the trees are working together into suffocating her and Ellie thinks she can swing the axe towards herself, spare the wood, and end it on her own terms. Fuck the Capital. Fuck the Hunger Games. Fuck the reaping. Unfortunately, it’s too easy to see through her.

“Ellie” Joel lays a hand on her shoulder and the axe drops on the floor, glaringly close to her own foot “It’s only one more year”

“It’s every fucking year, Joel”

“Yeah, well, that’s someone else’s problem now, all I care about is you staying alive. You just stay alive and don’t be a fucking hero”

When her name is called in front of the Hall of Justice those are the only words going through her mind as to not break the neck of the Capital man in flamboyant clothing that announced her name and stared at her with a toothy grin she mimicked for picturing punching it out his face. But Joel is looking at her. And she knows they win. They win because she will put on a show despite her hatred. Because she doesn’t want Joel to watch her die like he watched Sarah. They always win. She always loses.

[zvaigzdelasas]

[France24 is French State Media]

Officials said more than 600 heavily armed gendarmes were dispatched to secure Route Territoriale 1, the main artery connecting the restive capital with air links to the outside world.

Around 60 barricades that protesters had put up along the 60km (37-mile) road have been dismantled, but the road is not yet open as debris needs to be cleared, which will take several days, Louis Le Franc, the territory’s high commissioner, said on Sunday[...]

“Republican order will be re-established whatever the cost,” Le Franc said on Sunday, adding that if separatists “want to use their arms, they will be risking the worst”.[...]

The minister said more than 200 arrests had been made, adding that “there are still many obstacles to be lifted to impose republican order”.[...]

Dominique Fochi, secretary-general of the leading independence movement in the territory, urged calm but said the French government must suspend the constitutional change.

“We need strong actions to calm the situation, the government needs to stop putting oil on the fire,” Fochi told the Reuters news agency.

The presidents of four other French overseas territories – La Reunion in the Indian Ocean, Guadeloupe and Martinique in the Caribbean and French Guiana in South America – on Sunday called for the withdrawal of the voting reform in an open letter.

19 May 24

[myillicitaffair]

One of your girls part two | Carlos Sainz Jr

Summary: after a fateful outcome, Carlos wants to fix what he unintentionally broke.

Warnings: english not being my mother tongue, angst, alcohol consumption, dirty dancing, small description of throwing up, cheating, mentions of sex, messed up dynamics, slight swearing.

Notes: second part of this fic. i also wanted to say i’m currently taking request, to anyone who might be interested xx.

Credits: the gif used belongs to @neymarhamilton ‘s tumblr account, so all credits belong to them. this part, just like the one before, is inspired by the song “one of your girls” by Troye Sivan.

1.8k

SIX MONTHS AGO:

A chilly night welcomes my friend group as we make our way through a prestigious and crowded restaurant situated in the heart of Madrid.

Being born and raised in Spain´s capital city, the girls now walking into the facilities have been by my side my whole life; faith brought us together our first day of school, just three frightened little kids trying to survive elementary.

I like to believe that we complement each other, even if we hadn´t met all those years ago, life would have found a way to connect us.

A girl’s night out is a rare occurrence between us; always being on the shy side, we very much prefer staying in, drowning ourselves in sweet treats while marathoning our comfort romcoms.

The reason why we´re summoned tonight is quite simple… my very first broken heart.

You see, in an attempt to lighten the mood, my friends brought us to an extremely exclusive eatery, one where we clearly didn´t fit in. The difference was quite notorious, surrounded by leggy models and their handsome companions, I quite frankly begin to wonder why I ever agreed.

With a deep breath, I straighten my back and let the hostess remove my coat. “In for a penny, in for a pound” I think with a resigned shrug of the shoulders.

As we´re carried to our spot, I try and take the essence of the place in. I start noticing its eccentric décor, dim lights brightening the burgundy walls, leather booths scattered all over the classy tile floor.

What makes an ordinary dinner such a big success? Its bizarre modality.

Our table is filled with strangers, completely engulfed in their different conversations. The main reason for my friends to take us to this unconventional location was exactly this; the inexorable need to engage in conversations with foreign people.

The first round of dirty martinis arrives as the last costumers take their places next to me, with a lousy cheer I pour the drink down my throat, feeling its pleasant burning down my body, warming me up, making me forget.

“Easy there tiger”- the man sited by my side chuckles, gesturing towards my empty glass.

I take a moment to wander across his features. Thick eyebrows, big brown eyes, plump lips. Definitely attractive, exactly what I need.

A smile creeps up my face, the wires in my brain getting to work.

I notice an elegantly worn designer shirt hugging his chest, his forearms resting against the wooden surface, his attentive stare trying to read my thoughts.

“And you are?”- I condescendingly tease him.

“Carlos”- his hand travels to mine, embracing me with his warm- “Carlos Sainz.”

The subtle body hair covering his fist tickling my naked skin, igniting a fire deep inside me.

And in that moment, I simply knew there was no getting out, not anybody else as long as he kept staring at me like this, eating me raw with his gaze.

That was the first night I ever came back home with him.

————

FOUR MONTHS AGO:

Carlos is away for the weekend, oceans separating us, palpable distance every time he races through my mind.

I try convincing myself It’s the sex I miss, the obvious physical attraction, the invisible force that pulls us towards the other, the feeling of his warm skin being impossibly closer to mine.

Truth being told, I’m sitting immovable on my bed, nervously waiting for a call.

I can’t help but recall his soft locks intertwined with my fingers, his tongue inching towards my neck, how he never fails to make my blood boil with a simple grin.

My phone brings me out of my daydreams, screaming for attention as a call enters it. His name glistening on the screen, filling me with pure bliss and forcing me to hold my giggles.

Acting like a schoolgirl with a crush while being a full-grown adult… how pathetic!

Two rings go by before i pick up, bitting my bottom lip to keep my voice calm as if I wasn’t desperately clinging to it seconds ago.

“Gorgeous, you got a minute to spare?”- he asks, clear amusement in his tone, abusing the charm he knows he has.

“That depends, Carlos, who’s asking?”

I’m gobsmacked at how composed I sound, nowhere near how I actually feel.

My knuckles turn white from grasping my sheets.

“Don’t be like that, princess, I know you miss me”- his smile visible through his speech.

My heart skips a beat, can his words be revealing my true feelings?

“Oh honey, keep lying to yourself if it helps you sleep at night…”

I’m met with his scandalous laugh filling the line, raising my pulse until it’s beating on my ears.

Everything stops, everything keeps going.

I close my eyes in acknowledgement, being forced to admit what i’ve been denying ever since I met him.

Oh, how screwed I am!

———

TWO MONTHS AGO:

The music rumbles at the disco, throbbing on my skin with its intensity.

Being dragged to a hip party, my friends and I are bundled up in the comfort of our own group, dancing between ourselves.

As I rock my body to meet the pulsating rhythm, I embrace Carlos’s presence behind me, tightly grabbing my waggling hips.

He presses himself into me and I rub against his growing erection, purposely torturing him. His kisses start straying while sucking visible red marks into my neck.

His penetrating cologne invades my nostrils, clinging into my bare skin like a golden tattoo.

The mix of the alcohol I insisted on chugging and his hands shaping my whole body becoming intoxicating.

A foreign touch on my shoulder makes me open my eyes, leaving me to face my friend staring at me like i’ve grown a second head.

“You’re coming with me”- she pronounces as she drags me away from Carlos, who snorts in disbelief.

“What? Why?”- I ask as i’m forced to take a seat at the bar.

“Have you gone mad? You two were literally dry humping each other in the middle of the crowd!”- She hisses worriedly, forcing me to drink the water bottle she bought for me.

As she sits next to me, I prepare myself for the lecture she’s about to impart me, letting my eyes wonder across the dance floor.

I catch a glimpse of Carlos standing against a wall, hemmed by complete darkness, sometimes interrupted by one of the dj's lights.

When the spotlight lands on him, I start noticing the delicate hands hugging his broad shoulders, the almost nonexistent distance between him and the blonde caressing his cheeks.

Bile climbs up my throat, threatening to be ejected thanks to the scene before me.

Her lips all over his neck, staining the collar of his white shirt with lipstick.

Realizing i’m not paying an iota of attention to her, my friends follows my gaze stumbling across the sequence.

Effortlessly, she yanks me away from the enclosed space and into the garden.

Without being able to stop myself, I empty the contents of my stomach into the ground, constantly replaying the flashbacks of their sensual dance.

“Everything’s okay now, love”- My friend states while caressing my tangled up hair. Her fingertips come into contact with my cheeks, brushing my tears away.

Sobs are quick to scape my lungs, becoming more and more erratic as I imagine the second by second unfolding inside the disco.

———

PRESENT:

After running away from Carlos’s house, in the middle of a Madrilenian night, I’m fast to hide into the loneliness of my apartment.

I can’t even find comfort in blaming him as I was the one to agree with our “no exclusivity policy”, believing I could make it work.

How stupid of me to think I would be capable of not being trapped into his nets.

Clearly the only solution I can possibly come up with is crying it out, and that’s how I found myself in this situation; puffy eyes, completely ruined mascara, quivering eyes from shedding way too many tears.

Could I have been more stupid? I can’t even resonate one good reason why I would ever accept what he’s willing to offer me while wanting him in his entirety.

My determination is easily devastated as desperate fists bang against my door.

“Please, open up”- A too familiar voice implores from outside the apartment.

“I don’t ever wanna see you again”- I manage to scream through whimpers.

“I beg of you, please let me in! I swear I can explain.”

Standing right on the other side of the door, I feel my hand toying with the doorknob, trying to determinate whether or not to listen to his pleas.

“There’s nothing to explain, Carlos!”- I say, above a whisper, my voice to fragile for anything else.

“There’s been a while since i’ve been with anyone else, alright? Not since all I could think about was you!”

An unbreakable silence fills the hallways of the building, only the sound of his pantings and heavy breathing interrupting the stillness.

Without much hesitation, I open the hinges separating us.

Clearly, I was nowhere near prepared for the view before me; his full brown eyes now shimmering with unshed orbs, accumulated in his tear ducts.

“How about the girl from the voicemail?”- I ask, almost scared to find out this is all a product of my imagination.

“I know what that seemed like, but I promise you it’s not what you think!”- he says, piercing me with his gaze- “That was my ex girlfriend. She has a hard time letting go of me, even though there’s been more than a year since we’ve last been together. I never answer her calls and that’s why she’s getting more and more desesperate.”

Everything around me stops just to listen to his next words, my heart betting so out of control he might even hear it.

“Back at my apartment you told me you were enamored by me, well, there’s no use in trying to deny i’m in love with you”- he whispers, just loud enough for me to hear- “so much it’s physically painful, it’s all I can think about.”

My brain turned into mush as his confession sinks in. I almost want to laugh at how ridiculous the idea seems to me; the man I love, probably the only one i’ll ever love, stating that my feelings are reciprocate.

A sigh leaves my parted lips as a quiet tear runs down my face.

“I know i’ve made my mistakes and believe me when I say i’ll regret them every minute i’m on this earth, but I promise you, that if you give me the chance, i’ll make it up to you until my dying breath”- his voice sounds shaky, as if he couldn’t believe the words coming out of him.

I don’t think I ever reacted as fast as now, jumping into his embrace, wrapping my arms around his neck and my legs around his torso. Little giggles leave both of our mouths at the ridiculous situation.

“I love you”- He murmurs, muffled by the kisses he’s pressing against my checks.

“I love you too”- I answer back, with our bodies still entwined.

[writtingforfun]

Prey or Prayer?

OC! Marisa Hastwyck x Daemon Targaryen

Summary: Lady Marisa Hastwyck, of House Hastwyck of the Reach. First born daughter of Lord Murrel Hastwyck and Lady Lydia Hightower, second born child of the couple. Married to Prince Daemon Targaryen after the untimely death of Lady Laena Velaryon. Married at the young age of fourteen and a mother at fifteen. Her relationship with her step-daughters was strained and very one-sided.  A dutiful wife and mother, caring and loving person to all. A devout of the Faith of the Seven, her only comfort on the days the bed was left cold, even if her husband laid next to her. The very persistent shadow of the Princess Rhaenyra hunted both their bedchambers and their own hearts and souls.

Chapter 1

None so dutiful.

Those are the words of House Hastwyck. And they are words they live by. 

Like a Stark keeps his word, like a Velaryon sails the ocean, a Hastwyck is bound by duty and honor.

Lady Marisa Hastwyck was the perfect picture of the Maiden; devout, chaste and kind. Her entire life she had been prepared for marriage - her mother had made sure of that. Lady Lydia Hightower was unpleasant and highly strict about her children's upbringing, perhaps not in the best way. It was the sort of ambition that ran through Hightower blood, irrational and indifferent to anyone else’s feelings.

When Marisa was just ten, she was already made to spend two hours of the day praying to the Seven, by the time she turned twelve, she knew how to sew and embroider, by thirteen she was ready to be sold away as soon as someone wanted her. 

Which is why she had been sent to the Red Keep to study under the septas of the capital. Four moons had passed since she arrived there with her father and was presented to the King. But her father had only stayed for three weeks, and she was soon left alone with only her long time handmaid, Helia. 

Marisa was very intelligent, despite her mother’s disregard towards intellectual knowledge. She and her brother had always shared a passion for books and history, something that she thought would be rather important to maintain a conversation. Turns out her mother knew that the people of court were incredibly vain. The one time she brought up history, she received so many looks like she had lost her mind. 

Life at court wasn’t for her, and Marisa was certain of it. But how could she disappoint her parents and beg them to leave after all the weight they put on her shoulders? Her brother had been married just the year before, at sixteen, because he was found in bed with a middle class lady. The wedding had been rushed and no one even mentioned it. Now, their honor laid fully on her, since her little sister was only ten. 

Everyday, as part of her routine, she spent the nights in the library. She could slip in, unnoticed by anyone, and read as much as she wanted. And the library in the Red Keep was without a doubt the most beautiful one. History, stories, languages… Anything anyone could ever want.

This night was not any different. She picked up her book, one of the History of House Targaryen, and walked towards her usual table, somewhat secluded from the rest of the library, a book in one hand and a candle in the other.

As she made her way to the table, she was startled by the light in her seat. She was always so distracted and so sure no one would be there - after all, no one had sat there in over three moons. It was still very dark, despite the light each of them had, but she could see the outline of his body. Their eyes met and her breath caught in her throat. It was Daemon Targaryen.

“Your Grace,” Marisa quickly said, bowing at him.

He simply looked her up and down.

“My apologies, I did not know you’d be here”

His gaze fell on the book she had in her hand, “Interested in history?”

She looked down at the book and then at him, blinking rapidly, “Yes, I-” she stammered a bit and then took a breath. It was only Daemon Targaryen. “I simply believe that everyone should know the history of our kings”

Daemon chuckled at that. Someone who was not insipid, he thought. “Should you not me in your chambers, Lady…?”

“Marisa. Lady Marisa Hastwyck. I came only to fetch a book. I enjoy the library during the night, it is very quiet.”

“Uhm,” he hummed, his eyes returning to the book.

At the awkwards interaction, Marisa whispered “your grace” and excused herself, taking the book with her to her chambers. A shill ran up her spine as she remembered the indifference she saw in the Prince’s eyes. But then pity took its place. Marisa knew his reputation, but he had lost his wife and been left with two young girls. She couldn’t imagine the pain of losing someone she loved and vowed to be with for the rest of her life.

That was the very first interaction she had with the Prince, but certainly not the last.

***

The King held a five day feast for his older daughter, the heir to the throne, to celebrate her name day. The only good thing about this was that her parents were to attend.

“Quickly Helia, my parents must be arriving!”, she urged her handmaid to help her with her hair.

“Calm yourself,”

“I am calm. I just,” tears formed in her eyes, “I just miss them so much. Perhaps they’ll allow me to return home!”

Her bright smile of hope and high dreams of fantasy was only that - a fantasy. Helia looked at her with pity, for she knew that the girl’s fate - the same girl she helped raise - was to be nothing more than a broodmare. And it made her bones freeze.

Marisa stood waiting for her family with a bright smile, and as soon as saw her family’s sigil she could barely hold herself in place. How she missed seeing her brother and sister! It was as if a weight had been lifted from her shoulders. Until her mother’s rigid face looked at hers, the weight suddenly fell back on top of her. In all these moons, her mother had only written to her to ask if she had caught the eye of any men. Despite the sadness that was now filling her, Marisa decided to put it aside and hug her brother and father. All the words of kindness and happiness that parents should hold for their children were lost in her mother’s stone cold heart. 

“Stand up straight!” Lady Lydia spat at her daughter who quickly lost the small smile she held.

“Ignore her,” her brother whispered in her ear, “she has been nasty since-” he laughed “since ever”

Marisa giggled at that, holding her brother’s arm. “How come your wife didn’t join you?”

“Mother didn’t think she should”

“Isn’t it more disgraceful for you to come to the capital without your wife than to show she is a commoner?”

“It should be, but I was happy she wouldn’t be subjected to hours in a carriage with mother”

Loud horns sounded and Marisa jumped frightened, holding her brother tighter. The King and Queen approached the family. They all quickly bowed to them.

“Murrel! Welcome to my court!” the King greeted his old friend.

“Your Grace, what a pleasure to return.” he turned to the Queen “My Queen, a pleasure to see you again” 

“Welcome back Lord Murrel, and your family”

“Come, let us talk while your daughter talks with her mother and brother.”

As they leave, she notices the queen’s sad gaze on her. A small smile graces her lips as she walks towards them. “Lady Lydia, welcome to court. It has been a while.”

“Your grace,” she bows again, “thank you for the invitation.”

“Of course. You are friends of the crown, therefore, always welcome. Lady Marisa is a delight to have in court”

“Thank you, your grace.” 

The rest of the morning was spent with her mother continuously asking questions and giving her a hard time. Even poor Helia had to listen as her Lady scolded her for not encouraging Marisa to be in court more often than hiding in her chambers or with septas. “I wonder where your father is,” she kept repeating. As Marisa looked at her family, she realized how alone she had been back home, and how alone she was now. 

Upon her father’s return, he and her mother locked themselves in their chambers, leaving their two older children outside to wander as they pleased.

“Show me everything,” Tommen pleaded as they roamed the Keep. They started in the library, moved to the Tapestries and the Godswood, to lastly stand looking at the training grounds - Tommen’s favorite place.

“What do you think? Is it everything you expected?”

His eyes shined looking at the swords and armors, “more. So much more that I won’t even allow myself to wonder what mother and father are talking about”

“I would like to know,” she pouted, unsure of what it could be.

His smile vanished and he kept his eyes low, “Mar…”

“I would!” She repeats, “I have behaved well.”

“Of course you have, you always do. But mother sent you here with one goal in mind.”

“To find a husband for me.”

He nodded, and upon seeing how sad she was, he took her hand and told her to watch as they trained. Tommem explained every move as if she had interesse, as long as she forgot her fate. She hated violence, but her brother’s effort put a smile on her face.

Men cheering made them both look down to see someone walk in. 

“Who is that?” Tommen asked.

The man looked up and then took his sword.

“That’s Prince Daemon Targaryen”

Let me know if you liked it, and if you want to be added to the taglist! The first chapter is different than the rest will be, it's just a little starting point. I wanted you to understand the dynamics between the Hastwyck family.

Taglist:

@marihoneywk @toxicberrie @snowtargaryen @bellstwd @pet1t3 @watercolorskyy @hypocritic-trash-baby @marvelescvpe @jasenialovesjinx @msmorningstaarr @angeliod @dornishannie @ewwwitsel @billyloomiswife827289301

[imagines--galore]

||The Thread of Fate|| Part Twenty-Four

Summary: Soulmate AU. They say the Thread of Fate connects you to your one true love. It may tangle. It may stretch. But it will never break. Wrapped around your little finger it tightens when it feels your soulmate is close and loosens when they are far. And becomes visible with the colors of your soulmate’s Nation when you finally fall in love with them.

Pairing: Zuko x OroraOC (ATLA)

Rating || Genres || Warnings: T+ Romance. Adventure.

Previous Chapters - Part One, Part Two, Part Three, Part Four, Part Five, Part Six, Part Seven, Part Eight, Part Nine, Part Ten, Part Eleven, Part Twelve, Part Thirteen, Part Fourteen, Part Fifteen, Part Sixteen, Part Seventeen, Part Eighteen, Part Nineteen, Part Twenty, Part Twenty-One, Part Twenty-Two, Twenty-Three

A/N: We are getting close to the Day of the Black Sun people! THIS IS NOT A DRILL!!!!! THINGS WILL START HAPPENING NOW SO HANG ON TO YOUR HATS! And I know Orora's part is all over the place but only because that's how she feels right now? I dunno? Hope you enjoy!

The wind blew softly through her hair as she sat with her arms resting atop the saddle, staring out towards the wide open sky and ocean that flew by beneath them. The sun had almost set, the last rays of sunshine peaking over the horizon, turning the sky a beautiful hue of orange, pink and purple. Behind her, she could hear her friends but she hadn't really felt like adding anything to the conversation, so instead she opted to admire the view.

And though it painted the perfect picture of serenity, her mind was anything but.

Orora was still a little disconcerted about the dream she had had a few nights ago. It seemed strange, that after so long she would dream about Zuko, one that did not involve a nightmare.

She'd stopped having nightmares weeks ago, and her mind had simply opted to not dream at all. Well, that wasn't really a conscious choice on her part, but it seemed her sub-consciousness was giving her a break by letting her sleep peacefully through the night.

Until a few nights ago that is.

When Zuko had appeared in her dreams.

Held her.

Kissed her forehead.

Touched her.

Comforted her.

And though it was a dream, it had all seemed so real.

Which was utterly ridiculous because how could she feel everything physically that had happened in her dream?

And yet Orora could actually recall the feeling of the wind in her hair, the smell of the sea, the sensation of the sandy beach under her bare feet. If she closed her eyes, she could hear his voice in her mind, promising her what she dared not repeat to herself lest a fickle thing known as hope grow in her heart and just set her up for future disappointment.

Not to mention that when she awoke, her string had been glowing red. And it had stayed that way for quite sometime even after she woke up.

Glancing at her string, which certainly wasn't glowing right then, she wandered if perhaps the closer they got to the Fire Nation capital, would Zuko be able to feel her near?

And that made her nervous.

Was what he said to her in her dream a figment of her imagination, or had it been real?

She wanted to ask someone else's opinion about everything so badly. Maybe Aang? He would know something about it. But she didn't want to worry him. With the Invasion coming up the poor kid already had so much on his mind.

Katara wasn't an option either. The poor girl was only just starting to recover from her ordeal with Hama. Orora felt a shiver run down her spine as she thought of that old crone. No, no point in making Katara worry over her when she had her own demons to fight.

Sokka would be a good choice, but his mind was preoccupied with the Invasion plans and going over each and very detail over and over again. He would be the last one to go to sleep sometimes, and the first to wake up, pouring over maps. Not Sokka then.

Toph? Maybe? The girl did give good advice for a thirteen year old. Not to mention, out of all four of them, Toph knew the most about her situation with Zuko and the conflicted feelings she still had for the Prince.

Talking to Toph sounded good then, she mused, chin resting atop her arms, her eyes closing as she slowly began to doze off.

That is, until she caught sight of something from the corner of her eyes just as she closed them.

Or rather someone.

Instantly, her blue eyes snapped open, head whipping to the side as she stared at the empty spot next to her.

She blinked. There was no one there.

But she could've sworn.....

"Ice Princess? You okay? Your heartbeat is going crazy?" Once more her head whipped around to look at her friends, who were all staring at her a little confused at her sudden reaction. Toph was staring at her, eyes narrowed, and for the first time she felt how fast her heart was beating.

Shaking her head, Orora smiled in a reassuring manner. "Nothing. I just nodded off and had that weird feeling like I was falling or something." Aang, who sat upfront nodded. "I get it! It's happened to me too! And its weird since I can't even use airbending to stop myself from falling in my dreams." He added with a laugh. Orora responded with a smile, thankful that she could always count on Aang to distract her with his cheerful disposition.

Though, as she moved to sit next to him to avoid Toph's observant unseeing gaze, the fact what she had seen remained at the back of her mind.

Not a what, rather a who.

A who with very distinct scar on his face, and amber eyes that had haunted her dreams a few days ago.

"You alright there Orora?" Aang spoke up from beside her. Pursing her lips, and deciding to be truthful, the girl gave a shrug. "Honestly? I don't know. The closer we get to the Fire Nation Capital the nervous I get." She revealed, despite having decided just a few moments ago that she wouldn't burden Aang with her thoughts.

Giving her a look of understanding and a sympathetic smile, Aang reached out to rest a reassuring hand on her forearm. "Is it because we're gonna be storming the Capital, or because you're nervous about seeing Zuko again?"

Orora chewed on her bottom lip as she averted her gaze to the calm ocean flying by beneath her. "Does it make me selfish if I say the latter?" She finally asked after a moment of silence, raising her gaze to look at Aang once again. The young airbender shook his head. "Not at all. But maybe you should ask yourself, are you feeling nervous because you're going to see him again? Or are you feeling nervous because you think you won't be able to face him if the situation calls for it?"

And that was what worried her.

Would her past feelings allow her to face him one on one? Whatever anger and anguish she had felt over his betrayal lay dormant within her. Maybe she should reawaken it be reliving the moment under Ba Sing Se again?

"There it is!" Sokka's voice suddenly cut through her thoughts as he stood pointing towards an island that grew larger in size as they approached. "Argh! Finally! I feel like we've been flying forever." Toph groaned, eager to feel the earth under her feet again. Pulling on the reins, Aang was able to guide Appa into a smooth landing just beyond a clump of bushes.

Everyone quickly dismounted, making their way through the bush. Orora smiled at the sight of the koala sheep that were sleeping peacefully in the clearing. The sun had set about half an hour ago, and though it was still early in the evening, she was tired. Rubbing her eyes, the girl stifled a yawn as Sokka walked around, looking at his map.

They all waited patiently, albeit sleepily, for him to give the all-clear.

"This is it!" He finally exclaimed, prompting Toph to jerk awake where she'd been dozing off on her feet. "The official rendezvous point for the invasion force." Well it was rather peaceful, Orora mused to herself, moving to help Katara and Aang get their bed rolls from atop Appa. "How did you pick this place?" Toph asked, turning to Sokka who grinned proudly.

"Before we split up, my dad and I found this island on the map." He explained. "It's uninhabited, and the harbors surrounded by the cliffs seemed like the perfect secluded place."

As she spread her bed roll on the floor, Orora hummed. "Thank Spirits no one lives here. We can really relax and sleep without having to stay on guard all the time." Picking up another bed roll, she frowned at it before throwing it in Sokka's direction.

The lump of clothing hit him in the face with a soft thump. He pushed it off, glaring at Orora but she was too busy undoing her hair to pay him any mind.

"Nice choice, Sokka." Katara praised her brother, as she too untied her hair. Having seen Orora's little prank and wanting to avoid a scuffle between them both she continued. "And we're here four days ahead of schedule."

Apparently that was the wrong thing to say.

Aang who had only just laid down, suddenly scrambled to his feet. "Wait! Four days?" He cried out, his voice anxious, his face panicked. "The invasion's in four days?" Orora glanced at him, before she yawned hugely once more, her eyes tearing up as she did. Sokka, having unrolled the bed roll Orora had thrown at him, yawned.

"Whatever. That's like four days from now. Let's just calm down and-" He didn't even finish his sentence before he was snoring away. A little ways away Toph was beginning to snooze as well, her feet elevated so she wouldn't have to see during the night.

"For once I agree with Sokka." Orora muttered sleepily, her mind exhausted from over thinking throughout the day. She hoped tonight would be one of those nights where she didn't dream.

Katara nodded. "Sokka's got the right idea, Aang. We're here. We're ready." Orora barely heard the rest of Katara's sentence as she began to drift off, her eyes closing. "The best thing we can do now is get plenty of rest." So saying the waterbender laid down, falling asleep almost instantly. Aang looked around at his now sleeping companions.

"I guess."

Silence settled over the small clearing, broken every now and then when one of the sleeping children would turn over in their sleep, or in Sokka's case, would let out an occasional snore.

And though in the beginning she slept soundly, as the night crept on, a frown creased Orora's forehead and she tossed and turned, as she began to dream.

                                           ————————–

She was being led through and open space. Her wrists and ankles were bound, her clothes were in tatters. The sky above her glowed an ominous red. Her gaze flitted around, trying to find any means of escape, yet nothing rose to mind. There were Fire Nation soldiers all around and not a single familiar face in sight. A hand at her back pushed her forward, prompting her to stumble and fall to her knees.

Somehow she caught herself before her face hit the dirt. Shrugging off the hands that gripped her arms, Orora rose to her knees, her gaze tilting up to the sight before her.

There was Ozai, standing over her with a look of contempt on his face. He cut an extremely imposing figure dressed in his royal robes, and his face was just as cruel as she had seen in the village statue of him. Azula stood next to her father, her features settled into a look of utter glee as she regarded the waterbender. Somehow they both appeared even more fierce and powerful looking then they probably were in real life.

"So, you are the one." Ozai spoke, and though he didn't give any further information, she knew what he was talking about. Orora didn't speak though, she continued to look back at them both. Her face was devoid of emotion and that seemed to annoy Azula.

"May I get rid of her father?" The younger girl all but cooed gleefully, as if she would delight in ending the other girl's life.

And she probably would.

Orora watched as Ozai opened his mouth, to agree with his daughter, to.........what? End her? Torture her? Make her bleed?

Whatever it would be, Orora closed her eyes as she sighed, she could not fight the inevitable. Funnily enough, she wasn't scared.

A shadow fell over her. Probably Azula coming to play with her. To have her fun.

"You'll have to go through me."

Her eyes shot open as her entire body went rigid with utter shock.

No!

It couldn't be!

Despite her disbelief, she managed to tilt her head back and look up to the person standing over her.

His back was to her, but there was no denying that all too familiar head of hair, the stance not to mention the swords he gripped in his hands.

Zuko.

It was Zuko.

Zuko was standing over her.

He was protecting her from his family.

Saving her.

Her heart thumped wildly in her chest. Her gaze flitted from his back, to his shoulders, to his hands, to his finger.

The finger that held his string.

That glowed a bright blue.

Perhaps she whispered his name? Or maybe she called out to him out loud?

Whatever it was, it compelled him to shift his head slightly so he could look over his shoulder at her.

Orora barely managed to catch a glimpse of his scar, barely saw his lips as he called back to her.

Before her eyes snapped open and she sat up fully awake.

                                           ————————–

His life was beginning to get rather tedious. Sure he had enjoyed all the luxuries he had been denied during his banishment and then his subsequent life as a refugee, but since his arrival at the Capital he had slowly begun to realize that he kind of missed that life.

Over the three years he had spent searching for Aang, Zuko had seen the entire world and it had amazed him just how powerful and yet beautiful nature could be.

Rather like his soulmate, he figured.

It wasn't until he began to interact with the people who lived in the world, did he realize that they contributed to the beauty of the world.

Unlike the Fire Nation.

He frowned as he looked at the hot towel that had been offered to him, before he closed his eyes in resignation and dabbed his face with it. Orora would hate all the fuss, he realized. She had told him that one of the other reasons for her leaving the North Pole, other then her family, had been because she wanted freedom to do whatever she wanted. Sure that meant giving up some things she liked, but in the long run, it had all been worth it.

Maybe the luxuries were unexciting because there was no one else to share them with.

As he walked out of the Palace, his gaze flitted from one side to the next, as if he were waiting for someone to suddenly appear.

But no one did.

And he frowned.

It had been several days since he had last seen Orora, in his dreams or otherwise. And while he did think of her everyday, it was nothing compared to the comfort her presence had had.

Though the constant glow of his string did serve to remind him just how deep his affections for her ran, despite her not being there with him.

He needed to speak with someone, he mused to himself as he reached the gates of the Palace and looked to the mansion just across the street.

Thank the Spirits he had someone he could trust and who trusted him.

                                           ————————–

Pulling out the fabric she had bought so long ago, Orora smiled at the color.

"Hey! When do you get that?" Katara asked, reaching out to feel the texture of the fabric. Her smile turning sheepish, Orora gave a nervous laugh. "I got it from the hustle money." She admitted, to which Katara gave a disapproving glare, but shook her head. "Well, what're you gonna do with it?" She asked, as Orora moved to get the small sewing kit she had also bought.

"Well I don't want to face the Fire Nation is their colors." She gestured to the clothes she had on. "I want to fight them wearing the colors of my tribe." The other girl nodded in understanding. "But isn't it a little darker then what you would usually wear?"

Orora nodded as she looked over all the rough sketching she had done over the past few weeks. "Well I figured warriors wear dark blue when they go into battle." She admitted, to which Katara gave a small laugh. "Trust you to go against tradition." She said, playfully nudging Orora to which the older girl grinned at her. "Oh? And which one of us beat up Pakku so he would teach her how to fight?"

Giggling Katara peered at the sketches Orora had done, smiling as she picked up one. "Maybe you should do this one?" She suggested, holding it out for the older girl. Orora nodded. "I needed a second opinion. Thanks Katara!" So saying the girl moved to pick up a pair of scissors.

Grabbing the corner of the fabric, she lifted it in the air to shake it out.

But then her gaze caught sight of someone standing just at the other end of the cloth. Her mouth fell open in a sudden gasp, and the corners slipped from her fingers as the fabric dropped. Behind her Katara continued to go through the sketches, leaving Orora to stare in disbelief at Zuko.

Their eyes met, ice blue on warm amber. He looked just as she had seen him on that final day in Ba Sing Se, only before what had happened in the catacombs. He smiled at her, that soft happy smile that only she managed to get out of him, and her heart physically ached at the sight.

The dream she had had last night suddenly came back to her. And how, despite the obvious danger of her dream she had not been afraid.

Almost as if she had known.

Known that he would come and save her.

Her string glowed a bright red, prompting her to raise her hand and inspect it briefly. Zuko mirrored her action, so that she could see the blue of his string.

"-ra? Orora?"

The young waterbender was jilted out of her entrancement when Katara's hand landed on her shoulder. She let out a startled cry, tensing up and dropping the scissors she had been holding as she pivoted on her feet.

Her heart beat fast in her chest, and she panted, prompting Katara to frown at her in worry. "You alright? I've been calling your name for awhile now?" She asked, as the older girl turned to look over her shoulder where Zuko had been standing a few moments ago.

The space was empty.

"S-sorry, I was.....lost in thought." The girl finally admitted, reaching up to brush her hand back from her face where it hung around her shoulders in soft waves. Katara's worry did not dissipate as she continued to frown. "How about I help you with cutting the fabric?" She offered, picking up the scissors as she did.

Giving a small nod, Orora turned her attention back to her little project, hoping to push away the sight of her soulmate standing just across from her from her mind.

It helped.

But only a little since her string glowed red throughout the day, serving as a constant reminder of the depth of her feelings for Zuko.

                                           ————————–

"So have you given any thought to what I said?" Mai asked as she set down the teapot and held out the cup of tea she had just poured. Accepting the cup, he took a small sip from it, his eyes darting to the open doorway. Mai seemed to catch his silent question and quickly reassured him with a nod.

No one was out there to eavesdrop on their conversation.

"I have." He finally revealed. "But I'm still working on all of it, it'll take me some time to go over everything. Make sure I'm ready." He revealed, keeping his response as vague as he could. Mai nodded.

"I get it, though I figured you would want to prepare after the all-day war meeting coming up?" She revealed, taking a sip from her own cup as she did. Zuko frowned.

"War meeting? What are you talking about?" He asked, his voice sharp. Mai looked surprised before continuing. "Azula mentioned something. I-I assumed you were going, too." She said, as she too frowned at his confusion. He was the Prince wasn't he? Shouldn't he be aware of the meeting like Azula had been?

Zuko tried not to let that disappointed feeling settle in his heart. He had thought that perhaps his father would actually treat him like a son, but that hope had sailed out the window. But not even treating him as Prince of the Fire Nation?

That truly gutted him. "I guess I wasn't invited." He finally said, ending the conversation with a sip from his teacup. The both of them sat in silence for the rest of his stay. A simple goodbye was all they offered one another as he departed, leaving him with his thoughts as he rode the palanquin back across the road.

Why did he keep setting himself up for disappointment one moment after the other?

It was actually starting to get pathetic, even in his eyes. Orora would surely have his head for allowing himself such false hope. Honestly, he liked to think he had more chance of Orora actually forgiving him then his father treating him as his own son.

Though he doubted it would be easy.

As he walked back to his room, his string glowing an ever constant blue. Once ready for bed, he dropped onto the soft mattress, reaching under his pillow to retrieve the blue dragon comb. He set it at his side, where he could see it and just relive the memories of the owner.

                                           ————————–

Her fingers were beginning to cramp by the time she was done cutting the desired shapes and outlines. There was no point in actually starting her sewing till the next day since the sun had set awhile ago.

She hadn't spent the entire day cutting. Somewhere inbetween she had taken a lunch break as well as a bending break with Katara. The Master waterbender had taught her some new moves that would help her in the upcoming battle. In turn, Orora had gone through some basic leg movements to teach Katara how to waterbend with her feet and legs.

All in all, it had been a productive day.

Aside from the fact that she kept seeing Zuko here and there throughout the day at the most random of moments.

Now that everyone was finally asleep, including Aang, who had come rather late to where they were all sleeping, Orora sneaked away to the small river outlet she and Katara had been practicing in the entire day.

Looking around, she removed her shoes, before stepping into the water. Inhaling deeply she closed her eyes, concentrating with all that she had.

And when she finally opened her eyes, he was standing right in front of her, just a few feet away.

"What're you doing here?" She demanded, ignoring the way her heart leapt at the sight of him. He shrugged in response, crossing his arms over his chest. "You called me just now, didn't you?"

The sound of his voice had every single memory of him rising to the front of her mind. Slightly overwhelmed by the emotions, Orora did her best to not let them overtake her completely.

"You alright?" He asked, obvious concern lacing his tone as he peered at her from under the fringe of his black hair that covered his forehead.

"Why should you care?" She spat out, allowing her anger to rule her tongue for once as she glared at him. The water responded to her shift in emotions, rising in a small wave around her. He didn't seem at all perturbed by her sudden outburst. Instead he sighed, suddenly looking really really sad.

"You know why." He finally responded as he raised his finger, the string glowing blue. She exhaled angrily. "That is not a reason. It shouldn't be. Not after what you did."

It was stupid. She was talking to someone who wasn't even there.

And yet.......she couldn't help it. Couldn't help show the hurt and anger that had laid dormant for so many weeks. Though this was only a small trickle of it. Most of what she felt was still behind a wall she had built within herself.

Doing her best to calm herself, she turned her head so she wouldn't have to look at him. "Please, just go away."

She didn't have to look up to know he was gone. Though she did in the end.

Just so she wouldn't have to see her string flicker with color.

                                           ————————–

"Sokka, get up! I needa know what day it is!"

The startled, panicked cry of Aang was what had her sitting up even before she had opened her eyes. The night had been restless for her, and she'd only managed to catch a few hours of sleep.

And now there was Aang screaming at the top of his lungs, first thing in the morning. She forced her eyes open, only to be greeted with the sight of Sokka jumping up and hitting his head on a nearby rock. Despite the fright she had gotten, Orora couldn't help but snigger at the boy's expense. Beside her Katara and Toph sat up as well.

"Relax! It's still two days before the invasion!" Toph reminded, as Aang began to pull on Sokka's limbs to try and get him to stand up. Now that the sleep was out of her eyes, Orora was finally able to see the state Aang was in.

His hair was in disarray, there were bags under his eyes, and he looked frantic and panicked as he insisted that Sokka perfect his rock climbing skills, because of a dream he had.

"But that was just a dream." Sokka reminded before insisting. "I'm a great climber!"

The young Avatar was having none of it as he pointed towards a nearby cliff. "Then climb that cliff! Climb it fast!" They all turned to the take in the sheer size of the cliff. Sokka returned his gaze back to Aang who simply pointed even more adamantly, if that were possible. Sighing the Water Tribe boy reluctantly began to climb the cliff, grumbling under his breath as he did.

Shaking her head, Orora moved to put on her shoes.

"Don't drink that!" Aang suddenly shouted, pointing at Toph who had just taken a gulp from a water skin. She spat the water out, straight onto Katara who grimaced in disgust. Orora muffled her sudden giggle as Katara glared at her in annoyance.

"Why? Is it poisoned?" Toph exclaimed, as Katara waterbended the water off her.

"In my dream, we were right in the middle of the invasion, and you had to stop to use the bathroom!" Though she was listening to what Aang said, Orora stood to start preparing breakfast. "We died because of your tiny bladder." Seeing movement out of the corner of his eyes, Aang's gaze suddenly shifted to Orora where she was fathering ingredients for breakfast. "And you!" He shouted, pointing towards the older girl, startling her into dropping her ingredients. "In one of my dreams you made something to eat and we all got sick and none of us could fight in the invasion."

Orora blinked at him. Alright, now she was starting to get a little worried about his state of mind. But Aang didn't stop there, he pivoted on his feet, turning to Katara and pointing at her. "And you need to start wearing your hair up. In my dream, your hair got caught in a train, and-"

But he didn't complete his dream. Katara's hand on the side of his face had him pausing. "Aang!" She spoke loudly and firmly over his panicked gushing. "I know you're just trying to help, but you really need to get a grip." She tried to reassure him. "You're unraveling."

Aang blinked, taking a deep breath as he shook his head. "You're right. I'm losing my mind." He groaned softly. Reaching out Orora patted his head gently. "How about we all have some nice breakfast. Maybe that will calm you down?" She offered, smiling kindly at the younger boy. "I promise I'll be careful with my cooking." She joked, winking at him playfully. Somehow he managed to smile back at her.

However, an hour later, Orora realized that there was no helping Aang. He was still pacing around, his eye twitching, his fingers rotating and fumbling as he fretted over what was to come on the day of invasion.

"It's like every time I think about how stressed I am, I just end up more stressed. I'm like a big growing snowball of nerves." As he paced some more, she found her eyes flitting to Katara who looked back at her. They both exchanged a look of concern.

Sokka who had been hammering away at a piece of armor for Appa turned to look at Aang. "Of course you are. That's 'cause you gotta fight the Fire Lord, the baddest man on the planet. And you better win or we're all done for."

Orora slapped her forehead while Toph sighed at Sokka's lack of attempt to calm Aang down. Katara stood up and approached her brother.

"Sokka! You're not helping!" She stated in an annoyed tone, to which Sokka stood up and shrugged. "What? It's true. That's the deal. He knows it." Before Katara could respond to her brother's lack of tact, a flash of blue flew through the air, catching Sokka around the mouth and freezing there in place, effectively shutting him up. As Sokka began to struggle with the ice mask, courtesy of an annoyed waterbender from the North Pole, Katara walked towards an even more nervous looking Aang and touched his shoulders.

"You know what, I've got just the thing! Get ready to be de-stressified!" She said, smiling and leading Aang away. "If your trick doesn't work, I'm next!" Orora called out to their retreating backs as a shadow loomed over her. She raised an eyebrow at the sight of Sokka who made several muffled angry sounds before pointing to his mouth.

She rolled her eyes. "Next time, be more tactful." She warned, waving her hand and allowing the ice to melt away from his mouth. In response, the boy stomped back to his personal project, grumbling under his breath.

Orora turned her attention to the half sewn shirt she had dropped in her lap, picking it up and resuming her task. She was so engrossed in what she was doing, that she barely noticed when Toph and Sokka walked away with Appa, to mold the shape of the armor that would be using metal to his size.

"What're you making?"

Her hands stilled, but she didn't look up.

"I am making a new outfit to wear for when we defeat the Fire Nation." She heard herself say. Why she spoke to him though was beyond her. She should just ignore him and he would disappear.

And yet, some small part of her, the one that still held that soft spot for him, that missed him, wanted to speak to him, to hear his opinion.

Even if, in a way, she would be speaking to herself.

"So, not a new outfit because you're meeting me then?" His voice was teasing. She still didn't look up.

"Don't flatter yourself. I'll be busy fighting to take down your nation to even think about you." Lies, her inner voice told her, but she ignored it.

He was silent for a few moments. "You know, I always wandered how you would look in blue. I mean I did see you at the North Pole, but you were kind of covered in blood then." She could feel the smile in his voice as he continued. "I bet you'll look beautiful."

His compliment, threw her off guard.

Her eyes widened, and despite her initial promise to ignore him and just focus on her fingers as the needle and thread flew through the fabric, she looked up.

Only to see that he was gone.

Leaving her with a hollow feeling in her chest, and a flickering string.

Luckily distraction came in the form of a disgruntled looking Avatar. "Well Katara's sauna method didn't work." He grumbled turning his heavy lidded gaze towards Orora who set her sewing aside. "In that case, lets see if I can help you relax."

So saying, the girl led him away to a location that was partially covered by a big outcropping of a cliff side. It provided enough shade that their ice sculptures wouldn't melt.

"Making sculptures always helped me." Orora explained, as she led Aang to stand in front of his block of ice. "It helps keep my mind focused on one task and helps me relax." She explained further, gesturing for him to start whenever he was ready.

"What should I make though?" He asked, looking back at her curiously to which she shrugged. "Whatever comes to mind."

Aang stood still for a few moments, probably contemplating on who or what to mold from the ice. Finally his arms and hands began to move and Orora watched, in growing horror at what he created.

It was an ice sculpture in the likeness of Ozai. However, he appeared more like a demon spirit then his real self. Aang had even given him horns, a forked tongue and about six eyes. She winced as Aang stepped back, clear fear and shock written across his features as he took in what he had created.

"Erm....maybe, you shouldn't have let your nightmares guide you so much?" Orora suggested, to which Aang let out a groan of frustration. "What am I going to do?" He lamented, as Orora waved a hand and his sculpture melted away. "You're had nightmares before Orora." He suddenly recalled, turning to her, his face desperate.

"How did you get rid of them?" Orora blinked, frowning slightly in thought. "I don't know if my nightmares were at the same intensity as yours Aang. I mean the emotions behind them were very different. I just had to let out all that I was feeling for the nightmares to stop."

She looked at him, reaching out to place a comforting hand on his shoulder. "I should think for your nightmares to stop, you just need to face your fear." Her suggestion had Aang's eyes widening in panic once more and his entire body to tremble. "But that doesn't mean you have to do it alone." She reassured him quickly. He was so much shorter then her, and it only made her feel all the more protective over him.

"I promise, when you face the Fire Lord on the day of the invasion, I'll be there with you." She promised. So saying, she wrapped her arms around his slight frame, enveloping him in what could only be described a soothing embrace. It took him a few seconds before he returned the gesture, and for a few moments, Aang was able to feel safe and secure rather then the crippling fear ad anxiety that had hounded him for the past two days.

Once he had pulled back from the embrace, she smiled at him. "Maybe you should talk to someone about what you're feeling? Talking always helps, maybe Sokka can be the perfect candidate for that?" She added to which Aang nodded.

"You're right! I'm gonna go find him! Thanks Orora!" So saying, the young Avatar raced away on an air scooter. Once the air had settled, Orora turned her gaze towards the ice sculpture that she had created for her own purpose.

And that purpose was quickly realized fifteen minutes later when she stood in front of an ice sculpture of her soulmate.

"Why do you have to be on my mind so often?" She whispered as she put the final touches to the sculpture before stepping away. "You should mean nothing to me after what you did, and yet I still find myself thinking about you. And it feels like I'm betraying our cause when I do."

Silence.

Her only companion was the glow of her string and an ice sculpture that melted away with a wave of her hand.

                                           ————————–

The meeting had just adjourned.

And he had been invited to it. his father hadn't wanted to start the meeting until he arrived. He had sat beside his father, in the seat of honor, had been the perfect son, the ideal prince.

But then, as he walked down the corridor towards his room, why did he feel so alone?

For so long he had wanted nothing more then love and acknowledgment from his father, from the man who should be there to guide him and help him should he stumble.

But that meeting, what his father had decided, helped get rid of that notion once and for all.

He was never going to change, Zuko realized. That man was going to remain hard-hearted and unforgiving. He would destroy the entire world for his gain. For glory.

During the entire duration of the plan his father had told so gleefully, all Zuko could think of was all the lives that would be lost because of that plan.

All the plan who would loose their homes, their loves ones.

Everything.

Zuko had lived among those people. They had shown him kindness when no one else could ever have. They had helped him, his Uncle and Orora as well.

How could his father be so cruel and unfeeling?

Orora had been right.

Try as he might, he would never gain his father's approval the way Azula had.

And his Uncle had been right too.

He had to forge his own path, his own destiny.

While his initial drive had been to find Orora and maybe stop the Fire Nation from damaging the world too much. Now? It was completely different.

Now his destiny included helping the Avatar end the war and defeat the Fire Nation.

Once and for all.

                                           ————————–

The whole day she had worked on her outfit. It was almost finished and just needed a few embellishments. Orora hoped she had gotten the proportions right.

"Its turning out great."

If only the mirage of her soulmate would leave her alone.

She looked up from her task, glaring at Zuko as he sat opposite her. He met her gaze with a small hesitant smile. "You know, if you want to say something to me, about what I did, you can." He suggested after a brief moment of tense silence. Orora shook her head, returning her attention to her clothing, her needle flying.

"What would be the use?! You're not here so I would be yelling at nothing and my friends already have Aang's spiral to deal with. I have no desire to burden them with my troubles." She responded, wincing as she accidentally pierced her thumb with the tip of the needle. Wiping away the drop of blood, she continued.

"No, I am going to yell at you when you're actually here in front of me. Because that is what you deserve for what you did to me. To your Uncle." Her hands trembled as that anger that had festered within her for so long in the darkness began to reach a boiling point.

"And I look forward to it." She blinked, her gaze once more finding his. Her brow creased in a confused frown. "To my yelling at you?" She asked, thinking that maybe her mind was really spiraling like Aang's.

Zuko shook his head. "No. To see you."

Her eyes widened at the absolute honesty on his face as well as the smile of utter happiness that played about his lips.

She shook her head, closing her eyes. "This is all in your head." She whispered. "This is all in your head."

Orora couldn't afford to get her hopes up. But it seemed fate was just setting her up to be disappointed all over again. Starting from the dream where he had promised he would come back to her, and now, his mirage appearing to her and saying things like that.

Tears of frustration pricked her eyes as she finally opened them and saw that he was gone. Trying not to let that sinking feeling in her chest make her feel anymore hollow then she already was, she returned to the final stitches of her pants.

Only to glance up when a gust of wind blew by her. Or rather an airbender with his arms in the air and a cry of complete panic echoing as he went by. Orora blinked at his retreated back, wandering what had scared him like that.

A moment later Toph followed his path and she had her explanation.

"What did you do?" She asked, prompting the blind girl to scowl at her. "How'd you know I did something?" Se asked sounding a little offended to which Orora rolled her eyes. "You're always doing something sinister or planning it Toph."

A beat of silence before Toph grinned and nodded. "That's true." Kicking up dirt she walked to sit beside Orora, using her knitting basket as a footstool to keep her feet elevated.

"So, mind telling me why your heart is racing like you just ran as fast as Twinkletoes?"

Blue eyes blinked at Toph for a few brief moments before the older girl sighed, her shoulders drooping. "I'm just thinking about tomorrow and how I might.....run into Zuko." She finally revealed to the younger girl.

Toph hummed. "You know I've been wandering the same thing. I mean we're gonna be taking down the Fire Nation and he is the Prince of the Fire Nation. How're you gonna handle it?" Setting aside her sewing in favor of pulling her legs to her chest, Orora sighed. "I honestly have no idea." She admitted, allowing her fear and uncertainty of the situation to leak into her tone.

Toph was silent next to her for a few moments. "Well, whatever happens, and no matter what the outcome, we'll all face it together." The waterbender glanced at the earthbender from the corner of her eyes. Slowly a small smile pulled at her lips as she nodded. "Yeah, I suppose we will."

Grinning Toph pulled her hand back and punched Orora in the shoulder, prompting the girl to let out a grunt of pain. "I see your method of showing affection has not changed." The girl said, rubbing the sore spot as Toph grinned. "Nope, and it ain't happening either Ice Princess. So get over it!"

"Hey guys!" Katara's voice cut through their moment of silence, prompting them both to look towards the source as she raced towards them. "What you want Sugar Queen?" Toph asked. Ignoring the nickname, she simply grinned. "I think I found a way for Aang to sleep." Behind her, her brother was racing to catch a koala sheep, prompting Orora to raise an eyebrow at his antics.

"Has Sokka started to loose it too?" She asked, to which Toph added. "More so then he already had." The both of them laughed at their own jokes, prompting Katara to huff and grab their wrists, pulling them up.

"Come on! This is brilliant."

She spent the rest of the day catching koala sheeps and creating the world's softest bed for Aang. And not for the first time, Orora was grateful for the friends she had accepted as her surrogate family.

Because honestly?

They were all worth the pain and sacrifice.

                                           ————————–

And as Orora laid down to sleep that night, her string colorless, she knew what tomorrow would bring.

                                           ————————–

And as Zuko laid down to sleep that night, his string a bright glowing blue, he knew what tomorrow would bring.

                                           ————————–

Tomorrow would be the day she would face the Fire Nation. And with her family, friends and allies at her side, there was no way they would loose.

                                           ————————–

Tomorrow would be the day he would finally leave the Fire Nation for good, free his Uncle and join Aang on his journey to restore balance to the world.

And beg Orora to forgive him for what he had done.

He had a long journey ahead of him, but for once, Zuko wasn't scared.

He was at peace with what fate had decided for him.

And he would see it through this time.

                                           ————————–

Tag List - @wavesofchaos​ @violet-potter​ @rennysketch​ @emma-andrea1 @lovesammikinzz @fuzzyfestcat @msrawog @notsaelty @lust-for-pan @aces-tattooartist @jinxxangel13 @lotr-got @bitterspoons @realrintaro @gatorgirl151 @inutheangel @heartfully10 @lucaaahhh @juniper-july19 @anuttellaa @gfksz @bussyvussy @punksnotdeadbutiam @ablofftoneverland-blog-blog @slut-for-menn @vyliie @army-moa75 @juwhls @aqlodun @lovelybaka

[fatherforgivethem]

Hotd meets the Hunger Games 🫢

“I keep wishing I could think of a way to show them that they don’t own me. You know, if I’m gonna die… I wanna still be me.”

Alicent Hightower had never expected for her name to be called at the reaping. She had never expected to talk to Otto Viridis as a crowd laughed at her sweet words. She most certainly did not expect to win her games and make it back home to Distract 4 when she was only sixteen years old. Her life seemed to be full of surprises; and it had not ended there. She had met Criston Cole by chance when she was walking down the docks in town. He had been bringing baskets of fish back to his shop when Alicent had bumped into him. And after a few words of apology, her life had changed once again.

She had taken a job at his shop where he sold the fish he caught. She needed something to do after moving to Victors Village. From there they got to know each other, and it was in that little shop that they fell in love. They had married and before she even knew it, they had three children, soon four, running around the docks.

Her life had continued to change when her son’s name was called at the reaping, when her eldest son at volunteered for him, and when it had happened all over again two years later. She had to watch them again and again go through what she went through, watch the way that they became killers like she did. Her arena had been so different from there’s. It was hot, dead, unlivable. She had only won when she had found poisonous berries that she forced two people to eat. The sound of their cannons going off still rung in her ears. And now it wound ring in her children’s ears for the rest of their lives as well. It was a cycle, and it would take a certain kind of person to break it.

Criston Cole never would have thought that he would have four children and wife that he called his. He hadn’t even expected to live past thirteen, let alone twenty. But he did, and he met the love of his life and they brought the most beautiful children into the world. A world that would take them away from their parents.

He had been forced to watch his two oldest boys kill others to stay alive. On most nights, he was either waking up in a cold sweat, or trying to get Alicent to wake up from one of her nightmares. Since winning their own games, Criston had been traveling down the hall to help Aegon and Aemond as well.

His life was full of horror as he watched those he loved crumble before him. When it would end, Criston would never know. What he did know, was that he would find a way to make it end, all of it.

Aegon had always been told to keep his head down. His mom made it clear that he was to never say the words “I volunteer!”. Those were words for careers, and Aegon and his siblings were not careers; they were the sons and daughter of a victor and a fisherman. And, if his mother could help it, it would stay that way. But it hadn’t; not when Aemond, who had only been thirteen, was called at the reaping.

Aegon had never raised his hand and said words so quick before. It was so quick that it almost felt like a thought that had slipped through his head. But it had happened, and before he knew it, he was being pulled to the stage and asked what his name was. He had tried his best to ignore the look of horror and unshed tears in his mothers eyes.

The capital had loved him. They loved his confidence, the risky jokes he would say. They saw him as a flirt, someone with a dashing smile. It worked, and before Aegon even knew it, people were placing their bets on a fifteen year old Aegon. He had hoped for an arena full of something similar to what he grew up with, maybe trees and water, but when he was shoved into a suit meant to keep him warm, he knew it would be an arena meant to kill. His hopes were crushed even further when he rose to an arena full of snow, a frosty forest, and a frozen and freezing ocean.

He had been the son of a fisherman, and it showed. He had set traps made out of rope that would strangle the other tributes. He had only won the games because he was a good swimmer. And so, when a boy from 2 and Aegon were in the water, Aegon was able to keep the other boy under as he continued to tread above the surface. Aegon had almost died from the cold. When Aegon was on the train back home, he swore he would find a way to make it all end, to stop the games.

Helaena hated each reaping with every fiber of her being. She hated the way that parents cried and children clung to friends and family. She hated seing videos of her mother, who was only a little girl, forcing another child to eat poisonous berries. She hated them more when her brothers were taken away from her, changed and never the same. She hated so many things, and it was because of the games, because of the President. Those however, were words never to be spoken out loud. Not if she wanted to have her family live to see another day.

When Aegon had won, stylists from the capital had come to their home in District 4 to force Helaena into puffy clothes and pin her hair back until her head was pounding. The times that she did love were when the games, the PR that her family did, were over and done with. It was a time that allowed her to sit by the water and sketch her designs. Or where she could bake in the kitchen as Aegon and Aemond taught Daeron how to play chess.

Her name had never been called, and for that she was incredibly grateful. It spared her parents more pain than they needed. It spared herself the pain. So, for now, in between games, she would simply be with her family.

Something was brewing, she could feel it in the air. She could see it when Aegon and their mother went on long walks in areas no one was allowed. Something was about to happen, a storm, and Helaena would try her best to be ready for it.

As soon as his little brothers name was called, Aemond had done the same thing his elder brother had done. He’d volunteered. He had done the one thing his brother had to go to the games for. It was as if they were in a cycle, like someone was testing to see how strong their family could hold. Well, whatever it was, Aemond was falling into the trap like the fish he caught each day.

With Aegon as his mentor, Aemond had felt prepared, something very rare when going into the games. His brother had prepared for almost everything. On how to survive the night if it was cold without attracting other tributes. He even taught Aemond how to appeal to the capital. They had loved his confident, yet shy, demeanor. People had commented on how much of a mix Aemond was with his older brother and mother. With Aemond entering the games, they had become obsessed with his family, and Aemond had tried his best to hide his distaste for their awing behavior.

He had hoped each night before bed that his arena would be nothing like Aegon’s. And when he had risen into an arena full of mountains and flowing waterfalls and rivers, Aemond had tried his best not to smile. Throughout his games, he did all he could to survive. He avoided the cornucopia and instead stole a backpack from a boy from 7. The way that Aemond’s flying knife had logged itself into the boys chest still popped into his head before he went to sleep every night. The boys name had been Luke, and Aemond would always remember that after having to give a speech to the boy’s family.

Aemond had won his games staying up and catching the smoke of the last four tributes. He had climbed high into the trees and had skillfully let his knives drop onto them. He had done it to get home. And when he had been pulled into his brothers arms on the train ride home, he knew that it had been worth it. To survive is to kill.

It had been hard to watch her little boy die by the hands of another child. Because Rhaenyra knew, within her heart, that the boy from 4 had no choice. And if her own son, if Luke, was given the chance, she hoped he would have done the same. She supposed it was better for Luke to go in the beginning than for her to watch him die as he got nearer to the end. Almost close enough to reach out for and touch, before being ripped from her. No, the boy from 4, Aemond was his name, had done her a kindness. However selfish it might have been. She had seen the sadness, the regret, when Aemond had come to district 7 on his victory tour and had given his speech.

She thought that she was given peace after her sons death, but as the games went on, another boy’s name was called. Her boy, her Jace. Another son was taken from her, Though, Jace had fought and he had lived. She didn’t know what was worse, watching her son die, or watching the other live yet die inside of himself. He had never been the same, it had taken months for him to sleep in his own bed. He had, after some months, finally been able to chop wood without having to cover his ears and sit curled into himself on the ground. He wasn’t a victor, he was a victim of the capital’s wicked games.

So, when her son, after coming home from another game of mentoring, had taken her deep into the woods to discuss a brewing rebellion; she had listened, she had agreed. It would end, it had to.

His brother had been killed and now he was sent to do the same thing to other children. Children like him who only wanted to survive. But only one was allowed, and everyone wanted that to be them. Jace included. It had only been two games since his brother had been killed, and now, at eighteen, Jace too had been chosen at the reaping. Not a soul had volunteered. All of the boys around him had stayed quiet, had looked down at the ground. Jace didn’t blame them. If it wasn’t for the shock, Jace would have laughed. It was his last year to get picked, and after seven years of not, he was chosen. What a joke.

His mentor had only taught him one thing, and that was to never team up with others. No matter what they offered, Jace was to refuse them. Luke had made the mistake of being naive, and Jace wouldn’t do the same. He wouldn’t let his mother lose another son. After their father had died, it had only been the three of them. And then Luke had been taken away, and then Jace. Each smile he graced the wretched capital with, he did it for his mom.

The arena he landed in had been a shock. After being able to finally open his eyes against the light, Jace had looked upon a land of sand. Only sand. It had taken more supplies than he wanted to find an oasis. He had been lucky in winning his games. He had gone against what his mentor had said and he had teamed up with others. When the rest of them were asleep, four cannons had gone off, and it had been Jace that had slit the throats of the other two tributes whilst they slept. It had been an easy win, is what the capital said. However, like the majority of other victors, it hadn’t felt like a victory.

It didn’t take much convincing to join the rebellion. After returning home, his mentor had taken him out into the woods, away from prying ears, and had told him everything. How there was a plan, how the famous Hightower family from District 4 was in on it. That after this coming games, they would bring an end to the Hunger Games and the conniving capital once and for all.

….Part 1 of 2

[marvels-meme]

Canon worldbuilding lore on the MCU Kree to help you with your fanfic

They rule over multiple planets. Hala is the capital.

Hala's star is called Pama

In the comics there are around five known planets in Hala's system - it's unclear if Hala is 4th or 5th planet because it's been confused with another planet, Turunal.

Hala is located in the Larger Magellanic Cloud

Hala had oceans and forests (rip to those tho lol)

Leader of the Empire is called the "Supremor"

The Supreme Intelligence was basically god

The collective is one idea of the afterlife — if your brain is worthy it joins the Supreme Intelligences database when you die.

The spiritual afterlife is called the Etherplex or something idk

Their technology is somewhat water based (need more info on this)

Architecture is heavy on metal and stone and is very geometric. Buildings are detailed but there generally isn't too much furniture.

Cyan and purplish lights for a big chunk of Hala, golden lights for the Supreme Intelligence.

No hanging paintings... If you want art you have to hire someone to paint your wall lol

Starforce generally have one room apartments, I couldn't see a kitchen in them.

Stuff like wardrobes, book shelves, cupboards and drawers are more likely to be inserted into the wall to save space.

Like Carol literally lived in a single room with a bed, nightstand and a hexagonal cup. The ideal female living space.

They have hexagonal cups (I just thought that was cute)

The military is a big deal! Other respectable careers involve teaching, medicine, typically intelligent jobs that give something to society.

Kids are trained from a young age in the military. They're called "recruits". There's a deleted scene of Yon-Rogg teaching some.

The military hierarchy is likely Supremor > Accuser > Starforce > Kree Army > Non Kree Army > War slaves.

The Accusers aren't just extra bad military. They uphold the law, make arrests, hold trials, decide punishments, etc. I'd imagine that this is typically done for more important criminals or prisoners of war. That's why Dar-Benn holds an Accuser hammer as Supremor — she's upholding the law.

Kree Law is vaguely structured around the Tablets of Koth — they aren't definitive but they are the main basis.

Questioning your leaders is technically illegal

The worst crime of all is being "un-Kree".

Kree supremacy is big. In the comics it's illegal for Kree to have children with other species. They will tolerate other races if they’re feeling nice about it, but ultimately the Kree come first. This is important in the context of Carol's relationship with Yon-Rogg.

There's racism of blue Kree > non blue Kree in the comics but it doesn't appear to be present in the MCU. Keep it in mind though.

The Kree originally evolved to have blue skin because of low oxygen levels on Hala. Non blue kree came later as a result of mixing with other species. Since making babies with another species has been illegality for probably millenia, non blue Kree are now just another skin tone of the species.

Sexism isn't a thing. Yon-Rogg isn't sexist to Carol he's being racist too her lol

There are groups of noble families with some quite strict rules about battle. If a noble is cornered in battle with no way out they have to drink the special suicide juice or else they are shamed.

The suicide juice is called Odium, which means hate in Latin. If you sip it you go crazy with rage, get super strength and start trying to fight everything until it makes your heart explode

In the comics the Kree have double that of human organs — ie two hearts, four lungs. Brain is probably an exception. They have stronger bones and heavier muscle mass.

Kree blood has healing properties strong enough to bring a species with simple DNA (like humans) back from the dead but it's super duper painful and like 7/8 of the people that have received it have been given some kind of amnesia afterwards

Carol was one of those humans lol rip queen

Apparently the amnesia thing isn't even hard to do? In Agents of Shield a Kree had a tiny little hammer and he'd slap people with it and they'd loose their memories (I doubt that Carol was slapped with a tiny hammer but you never know this might help you)

Propaganda art - there are some gorgeous statues and murals in the Captain Marvel concept art.

Fashion is generally dark. Black, grey and brown for most people. It's not too complicated. White appears to be for underclothes/sleeping wear.

Well it's not too complicated unless you are the Supremor. Remember, Dar-Benn is succeeding the position from their idea of god. She's dressed to the tens and stands out the most from literally everyone. Her stuff is more detailed and metallic and she's wearing a lot more jewellery.

Also notice how Dar-Benn changes outfits literally every ten minutes. I need Marvel to stop killing all the cunty villains because I deserved to study her entire wardrobe thank you very much

A few Kree women (including Carol) have the style of one side being braided and the other let down.

The Kree are encouraged to experiment with as many genders as possible

So technically Carol Danvers lesbian sex canon

Some people grow babies in big tanks. Why? To make them strong or something idk. Carol's comic half sister was born in a big tank bc they wanted her to be strong asf to serve as an Accuser

Swear words — I only know da'st. No idea what it means

They don't have a word for candy </3

Normal space currency is called credits. Kree currency is called kreedits. If that's not the funniest fucking thing ever I don't know what is.

Kree names are "your name-family name". Eg Yon-Roggs given name is Yon, but his surname is Rogg. His daughters name is Una-Rogg.

You generally don't separate the name. Yon-Roggs name isn't Yon, it's Yon-Rogg. Obviously there's exceptions, but that's the general naming rule. It wouldn't be outright wrong to call him Yon, it would just be uncommon and slightly weird.

The Kree have beef with every species ever. They had multiple wars with the Asgardians and the Xandarians.

I've probably missed something lol

Anyways: Arab.org daily click to help Palestine 🍉

[82mitsu]

{18Trip} <CHAPTER 001 SIDE-A: Sun will R1ze!> 001-A02 Proof of determination

A translation of 18TRIP's CHAPTER 001 SIDE-A by 82mitsu. ENG proofreading by sasaranurude.

TL note:

金転がし (kanekorogashi) is an alternate name for まわり将棋 (mawarishogi), a traditional Japanese children’s game using the four Gold General shogi pieces and the pawns move into an anti-clockwise direction. The rules and gameplay elude me, but this website described it as Snakes and Ladders, which I am more familiar with, thus I went with that.

Kafka: HAMA will fully cease accepting special financial support from the prefecture of Tokyo!

Hakkei: …Wha- what is the meaning of this, Kafka! No- 0th Ward Mayor!

Kafka: Ah, you recognized me as the 0th Ward Mayor. Thank you very much ♪ It’s a given, though. 

Hakkei: Leave the trifling matters aside. Refusing funding from the capital? What are you planning to do with HAMA’s dwindling budget!

HAMA ward resident A: S-seriously, what is the plan here…

HAMA ward resident D: A stop to financial support… A declaration of a full stop to HAMA… 

Kaede: (...Kafka, just what in the world are you thinking?)

Kafka: Please be at ease. Now that I’ve been inaugurated as the 0th Ward Mayor, I’m intending to fully restore all of HAMA. Hence, the current method of doing things is no longer applicable.

Kafka: Rather than being restricted by insufficient funding and having our hands tied, I must go as far to propose a temporary termination in order to be able to enforce more drastic measures. 

Hakkei: And instead of that trifling amount of funding, from where do you intend to procure your capital?

Hakkei: This isn't child’s play- do you even comprehend that these politics are intertwined with the foundation of a whole city? 

Kafka: Towards these ends, I’ve invested every single penny to my own name into establishing a travel agency that will have direct control over the 18 wards of HAMA.

Kafka: Its name is HAMA Tours!

Kafka: It will be in charge of directing all general tourism affairs of HAMA,  and arranging package tours which haven’t been done before now. Proceeds will in turn serve as financial support for tourism.

Hakkei: Hmph! A mere pipe dream fabricated by some anklebiter. Tourism is not to be underestimated! Is your purpose to smash all of HAMA with that company of yours to pieces, Kafka!?

Hakkei: If you’re using your legal obligation as the 0th Ward Mayor to play house, then I will not allow this in a million years!

Kafka: …Who’s the one playing house here?

Hakkei: …

Kafka: Let me make it clear how I’m putting my life on the line.

HAMA ward resident A: The president of the biggest bank in all of HAMA!? And… they’re shaking hands!?

Kaede: (Kafka… Just when did you meet up with the president of the bank!?)

Hakkei: This is…

Kafka: A few days ago, fundraising for HAMA Tours found itself in a rough spot, so we were able to come to an agreement about receiving a loan♪  

Kafka: Incidentally, as a safety net, we have all that is in my possession, and everything under the name of the Oguro Family. Not only our estate and plot of lands we own, but the colossal amount of intellectual property left by mother is included too. In other words—

Kafka: When HAMA sinks to the depths of the ocean, I too sink. I am mentally prepared to lose anything and everything. Still feeling inclined to describe this as playing house?

Hakkei: ……

Kafka: Of course, sinking to rock bottom is not in my agenda. Therefore, the days of receiving financing will not come back. To all ward residents of HAMA…

Kafka: Together with me, we’re facing a big gamble to bring our HAMA back to life. So you’ll place your bets, right?

HAMA ward resident B: I changed my mind! If he’s willing to go that far, then I'm onboard!

HAMA ward resident C: “HAMA Tours”, eh?- Good luck! Come partner up with our joint!

HAMA ward resident D:  The new Ward Mayor’s top of the grade determination… Gleefully accepting resolution…  One chance of HAMA’s regeneration…

Kaede: (The whole venue’s mood flipped completely…! Kafka… you went as far as putting everything you own into this. You really are out of this world…!)

Kaede: (I also have to contribute with all I can! We’ll absolutely make HAMA Tours a success!)

Hakkei: …Hmph, you've gotten the extent of your determination across. If you’re willing to declare that much, then you'd better show it with your actions. On the other hand!

Hakkei: I won’t cut any corners. Reviews will not get higher ratings out of compassion. I have not a single clue about how many times you’ve succeeded with your investments, but I’ll have you know tourism differs from a game of snakes and ladders. At most, you’ll flail hopelessly. 

Kafka: …Please continue to enjoy the view as a spectator. We will show you achievements beyond your expectations. …Uncle Hakkei.

Hakkei: Hmph!

Kafka: Good work out there, Kaede-chan. How was the inauguration? I gave it all I got, right?

Kaede: Kafka… I was anxious, to be honest. And I was relieved everything turned out well. When I heard that you’re cutting off funding, everyone around me was shaken to their core, you know. 

Kafka: Eeeeh~ That’s noooooot much praise. Especially when I did my oh-so best out there too~

Kaede: I thought you were amazing! I really did! It was just such a risky bet…

Kafka: Well, can’t deny that. But there were a lot of people passionate about the tourism industry from the ward residents that gathered, and I wanted them to properly accept HAMA’s situation and make it a personal problem. 

Kafka: Hospitality isn’t viable if only those at the top put in the effort. I wanted each and every single ward resident to consider contributing to HAMA. But, ultimately, I wanted to show there’s hope. You get me?

Voice of newscaster: “Furthermore, as declared by the new 0th Ward Mayor Oguro Kafka, the establishment of the travel agency HAMA Tours was made public.”

Kafka: Ah, look at that display over there! Our company logo is being shown on it!

Kaede: That’s… our new company’s…

Kaede: …. It is cute, but why a dog?

Kafka: Because I’m a dog person ♪ Which you already knew, yeah? Ah, I also have plans for a company song to be made.

Kaede: You are not going to put dogs in the song too, right?

Kafka: It’s a surprise for when you listen ♪

Kaede: (....Kafka, you look like you’re having fun. The inauguration today gave me chills all over, but if he can smile like that, then I have a feeling it'll be okay.)

Kaede: (Maybe the reality of all this is starting to sink in for me too. I’m going to be working for the sake of HAMA going forward…!)

(Kafka smiling)

Kafka: …

Kafka: Okay, I’ll send you the location of our company office building and schedule on PeChat. Work begins immediately starting next week! And, as for Kaede-chan himself~

Kafka: Given you're the first commemorable employee, the role of chief goes to you! 

Kaede: Chief!? Are you suddenly shoving me into an executive position!? 

Kafka: I'm the company president, after all. I’m looking forward to working with you, right, Chief-chan ♪

Kaede: Eeeh~.... Geez, still pushy as always..… 

Kaede: (But, I’m not complaining. There’s an incredible feeling in my chest. I want to try it. I feel like this is what I’ve been truly wanting to do…) 

Kaede: (If I take this one step forward, the radiant sun will be ahead of me.)

Kafka: As if it’s a morning where the sun rises from the depths of the dark sea. There is hope for the future. 

Kafka: Don’t you believe we can convey that through our work? At least… that’s what I want to believe.  

Kaede: …Yes!

Kaede: (I’m sure that a lot of new encounters await me from now on. And… I want to believe that they’ll bloom into something beautiful!)

<<previous chapter / next chapter>>

chapter 001 side A directory: TBA upon completion

[bowiebond]

I love love love Bi Steve but…

Gay Steve. Steve who was so deep in his comphet because he couldn’t dare face the truth. He fell for a girl with commitment issues, and then a lesbian. He bounced from girl to girl, lamenting that he wants more than sex. He wants romance. He wants family, kids, and how could he have that without a woman? He lingers on the same girl for years because even though she makes things hard, she’s unavailable. She has a boyfriend. She never expressed an interest in kids, and maybe subconsciously he latched onto the fact that she can never be his. He let others think his failing love life is because women don’t want him, that his ‘one true love’ just isn’t meant to be his.

Except his true love was never Nancy, or Robin, or Heidi — none of them.

His true love was Tommy between 4th and 10th grade. His love was true in the way he bloomed under the other boys attention, in the way his stomach fluttered when Tommy invaded his space, the warmth in his heart when they traded food during lunch and read new comics over each other’s shoulders.

His true love was the passing something he felt for Jonathan, the flicker of something that could have been but would never be because Jonathan didn’t like him and he was stealing Nancy from him, and once she was gone for good, she had taken him from Steve too. Far away, the pair had disappeared.

His true love was Billy, a love that was antagonistic and frustrating, fuelled by lust he shoved deep down, full of lingering glances and ocean eyes that caught his in the hallway. It was a fruitless love, something that skimmed past Steve and one that time and his own ego snatched from him. A love that was mourned.

His true love was Eddie. A brief collision of worlds, a flame that burned and was snuffed out in a matter of days. Another love that was mourned, a soft ache that was forgotten with time because Eddie and he…they barely knew each other. It was love with potential, but the potential had died with the man.

Steve’s twenty four when he slips into Robin’s bed, the pair sharing a home because Steve couldn’t bare to live alone. He clings to his best friend after another failed date and just cries. Sobs for the reality that every date he went on with a woman would never lead anywhere because his heart wouldn’t allow it.

Steve doesn’t get the luxury of choosing a woman. Of even falling for a woman in the same measure he would a man. He’s gay. There’s no clean-cut way to avoid it anymore.

Robin holds him through his tears and it feels right to be close to her; to enjoy the comfort of her body without it being sexual, without it being an expression of true love.

Because Steve’s true love is a man. Will always be men.

“It’s okay. Don’t cry, dingus.” It’s confusing, and it hurts to know there is no going back to normalcy, there will be no wedding or kids and eventually his parents will ignore him for a reason other than being an idiot disappointment.

But his platonic soulmate with a capital P is there to sooth his tears. He knows Robin will understand.

Steve Harrington is gay. He just…needed time to accept it. And with time, he would learn to embrace it.

[spookyabuki]

Making a new listing for this! I’m planning on starting a TTRPG campaign for a setting I made called Shadow Protocol. Right now, we have four players and are looking for a fifth. The game will be run in the Neon City Overdrive system over Roll20, and right now we are using When2meet to set our weekly meeting times. First session will be sometime between January 14 and 20.

This campaign specifically takes place in the Sigma Ori system, specifically on the planet Abzu. Abzu is an icy moon that serves as the capital of the People’s Vanguard, the remains of the dying authoritarian state. Beneath the icy surface of Abzu is a deep, dark ocean. At the bottom of the ocean, a cramped, decrepit prison complex called Tartarus houses the members of the reabeletat vi trud (rehabilitation through work) program. These defective units range from unstable neurotypes to outright criminals, but the state has seen fit to give them a second chance. Instead of decommissioning them, they are sent on dangerous reconnaissance missions, plumbing the Abzuvian depths for scientific insights, remnants of corporate tech, and more.

If you're a fan of:

• Abzû • Citizen Sleeper • In Other Waters • Iron Lung • Murderbot • Signalis • SOMA • Subnautica

You'll probably enjoy it!

If you're interested, send me a DM and I can hook you up with the Discord invite! Also, please be cool. No racists, transphobes, etc. We'll probably be dealing with some at least semi-serious themes, so if that turns you off, this may not be the game for you.

(Screenshot from SOMA, by Nautilus)

[rabbitcruiser]

Alaska (No. 1)

Alaska is a non-contiguous U.S. state on the northwest extremity of North America. It is in the Western United States region. The only other non-contiguous U.S. state is Hawaii. Alaska is also considered to be the northernmost, westernmost, and easternmost (the Aleutian Islands cross the 180th meridian into the eastern hemisphere) state in the United States. It borders the Canadian territory of Yukon and the province of British Columbia to the east. It shares a western maritime border, in the Bering Strait, with Russia's Chukotka Autonomous Okrug. The Chukchi and Beaufort Seas of the Arctic Ocean lie to the north, and the Pacific Ocean lies to the south. Technically, it is a semi-exclave of the U.S., and it is the largest exclave in the world.

Alaska is the largest U.S. state by area, comprising more total area than the following three largest states of Texas, California, and Montana combined, and is the sixth-largest subnational division in the world. It is the third-least populous and most sparsely populated U.S. state, but is, with a population of 736,081 as of 2020, the continent's most populous territory located mostly north of the 60th parallel, with more than quadruple the combined populations of Northern Canada and Greenland. The state contains the four largest cities in the United States by area, including the state capital of Juneau. The state's most populous city is Anchorage, and approximately half of Alaska's residents live within its metropolitan area.

Source: Wikipedia

[hereticpriest]

Mercy Chapter 10 - Haelstruum

Rating: Explicit 18+

MDNI

Relationship: Obi-Wan Kenobi x Reader

To begin with, some warnings about this story: A/B/O Dynamics, Female Alpha, Male Omega, Some chapters may involve messing with the whole 'alphas are always dom and omegas are always sub' because I think nuance exists even in A/B/O dynamics, Fucking with the timeline (this is a blend of Canon, Legends, and original lore), Minimal use of Y/N (Explained in the first chapter), Reader is an alien species of my own creation and thus has a physical description, Familial bonds explored heavily, Clone rights explored heavily, Violence is more graphic than canon-typical however any graphic descriptions will be noted, AFAB reader, Not beta-read so I apologize for any mistakes.

Okay so I may have fibbed (unintentionally, the story pulled me here and I did not expect it) about us getting to Attack of the Clones this chapter. The next one, however, will cover quite a bit of AOTC.

Chapter warnings: Flirting, collaring, playing with A/B/O dynamics, slight dom!Obi-Wan, a whole lot of exposition and introduction to Haelstruum. I promise it serves a purpose!

Read on AO3

Part One - Part Two - Part Three - Part Four - Part Five - Part Six - Part Seven - Part Eight - Part Nine - Part Nine Point Five

Haelstruum is a stunning planet. Blue and so much stunning green in every shade you could possibly imagine, even in the dark of night. The larger continent of Vaelanis is covered in rainforest and thick jungle, shot through with a winding river from the mountains to the north all the way down to nearly the bottom. The second continent of Asfara is much smaller than Vaelanis, surrounded on the northern and western sides with thousands of islands of varying size. Once, Asfara was nearly of a size with Vaelanis, until a great earthquake followed by a catastrophic flood nearly half a millenia ago. The entire planet is nearly covered in forests, with peaks of grey-beige to the far north and far south of each continent. Unlike most planets these days, light pollution is negligible at best - even as they approach at night, the only spots of artificial light are in the port city of Vaelastra. The forests are dotted with clear signs of multi-coloured bioluminescence, creating a gentle kaleidoscope among the different shades of green. Between the two continents lies a massive ocean dotted with hints of bioluminescence, and split by a huge swath of vibrantly coloured coral. 

Your destination is Vaelastra, the port city and capital of the planet, built into the peaks of the mountains of Holnier Xul. Arriving at night wasn’t necessarily ideal, but it did give you a peek at how the planet became a whole new world in the dark. As your ship approaches the port, Obi-Wan steps up behind you, lacing his arms around your waist. His lips find your mating mark, and you shiver under his touch, the vibration of his purr providing comfort to your frazzled nerves as you stare out of the large viewport. You’ve been sent to Haelstruum for a multitude of reasons, though the primary reason is to collect a Jedi holocron that was found in a newfound cenote and offered to the Jedi Council by the Haelan Council as part of their attempts at continuing peaceful relations. It was also an excuse to give you what was effectively a working vacation - you hadn’t taken one since your knighthood began and the Council was forcing your hand. Taking your mate with you had been a ploy to further convince you, as giving you time with your little family was something you couldn’t possibly resist.

It was, however, your first time going back to your home planet. You were, frankly, terrified. Rightfully so, since they had sent you off with a Jedi as a babe. You wonder if your parents are still alive. Will they recognize you, with some sort of innate parental knowledge? Biological awareness of your own offspring. You have your doubts. Obi-Wan has been trying to convince you that everything would be alright. Master Sav Lasra was allowed back onto Haelstruum, and stayed for nearly a month after resettling rescued slaves. Anakin was just excited to not be stuck at the Temple for a while - he loved exploring new worlds, and this trip had encouraged him to spend an evening in the Archives researching your homeworld.

“Ugh, gross.” Your son complains as he approaches the viewport behind you, though you know he’s mostly teasing. You roll your eyes, twisting your head to give Obi-Wan a proper kiss just to bother his Padawan. Smiling against your lips, your mate hums, then breaks away to look at his student.

“Come to watch us dock, Anakin?” he asks, and the boy nods, affectionately bumping his arm against his Master’s as he comes to stand beside you both.

“I couldn’t see out of the window in my bunk. Are you guys gonna be gross the whole trip since there won’t be any other Jedi around?” Anakin asks boldly, and you snort, pressing a kiss to Obi-Wan’s fuzzy cheek as he begins to blush.

“I would say yes just to tease you, however, I know you did your research on Haelans in the Archives. You know that my people are… somewhat more primal than other species. We’re also an Omegan Matriarchal Democracy, which means that while I am Haelan, Obi-Wan will be deserving of more respect than me while we’re there. There will be expectations upon us and our relationship. The texts are unclear about the specifics, but I will not be surprised if there are certain things asked of me… Master Lasra implied that there are mating ceremonies that are extremely important to Haelans, and we may be expected to partake.” You explain, and Anakin listens as maturely as he can, only making a slight face at the mention of mating. Obi-Wan is red all the way to his ears, and you kiss the point of his cheek, squeezing his waist reassuringly. You’d both discussed the possibilities ahead of your visit, and cleared where the lines of your consent lay to avoid any awkwardness in the moment.

Upon docking, you are brought through the city to the Council chambers, a large circular room with a domed ceiling of star charts. Seven chairs line the far side of the room, and three more sit in the middle of the room for the guests. You sweep the room with your senses before allowing Obi-Wan and Anakin to take their seats, then turn your gaze to the Council. Each Council member is vastly different from the last, with a rainbow of different skin colours - violet, periwinkle, crimson, forest green, navy, blood orange and magenta. Four Omegas - two male, two female - sit alongside a male Alpha and a Beta of each gender. None of them look particularly pleased or upset to see them, though the male Alpha locks gazes with you in expectation for you to submit. The first of what you’re sure will be many metaphorical dick-measuring contests.

Tension rises briefly as you refuse to look away from him, knowing implicitly that you aren’t the one who should be balking from this challenge. Finally, the prim-looking forest green Omega seated next to the Alpha gives a quiet hiss, his teeth bared at what you assume is his mate. The Alpha’s nostrils flare, but he looks away obediently, giving the Omega man’s cheek a gentle nuzzle and kiss. You notice with some degree of curiosity a collar of dark metal around the Alpha’s neck, with what you believe might be a biolock at the throat. No one else on the Council wears one, and you wonder if it is characteristic of the two Council members’ relationship, or of Alphas in general. You smile, glancing at Obi-Wan to see his reaction and grinning discreetly at the pink on his cheeks and the purr rising in his throat.

Are you proud of your Alpha, baby? Does it turn you on that your Alpha is the baddest around?

Don’t tease me in public, Alpha.

I wouldn’t dare, sweetheart.

“What name have you chosen for yourself, Jedi?” The violet-skinned Omega woman asks, drumming her fingers against the arm of her chair as she adjusts regally in her seat, keen gaze burrowing into you.

“Mercy, my lady.” You reply simply, then gesture to those beside you, “This is Obi-Wan Kenobi, my mate, and his Padawan Anakin Skywalker, our son.”

Anakin flushes peach at the bold declaration, but you can feel his preening through the bond between you. You rarely go so far as to call him your son out loud, not wanting to call too much attention to your bond in a way that may concern the Jedi Council. Obi-Wan simply looks proud, if shy at the attention.

“And has this Mercy taken you against your will, Obi-Wan Kenobi?” The crimson Omega male asks, his force signature sympathetic and kind, “You will be protected from her should this not have been your choice. There are ways to break a mating bond.”

Despite the instinctual outrage at the mere concept of forcing a relationship on an Omega that rages in your heart, you know that this question is not for you, and you force yourself to remain silent and as non-reactive as possible. Obi-Wan flushes pink, both from outrage and embarrassment, but he knows he needs to go about this the right way. A way that Haela will approve of, and believe. Omegas hold all the power on Haelstruum, and he knows that you’ve continued that in your relationship even if you tease him. He has always held power over you, your throat laid bare in his hand, trusting him not to crush you. He takes a breath.

“Alpha, sit at my feet.” He says calmly, and you immediately slip from your chair to kneel before him, “Lay your head in my lap, darling. Show them the mark I gave you when I made you mine.”

The Council watches with interest as you lay your cheek against Obi-Wan’s thigh, arching your neck slightly and dropping your shoulders to make your mating mark visible to them all. He strokes his fingertips across the scarred imprint of his teeth.

“Mercy is mine. She did not have the chance to take me against my will, as she has always been what I wanted.” Obi-Wan states clearly, petting your hair out of your face. You relax against him, your posture submissive and supplicant, and even go as far as to close your eyes.

“Fascinating. It appears that despite being away from our people for so long, Mercy has retained her Haelan heritage innately.” The magenta Beta muses, and Obi-Wan hums his agreement, gesturing for you to get up and sit back in your chair. You do, obedient and loose, taking some time before you’re able to rip your gaze from the Omega that holds your heart in his fist.

“I’ve wanted her to be mine since we were young. But, neither of us were ready until far more recently. Our souls are entwined in the Force.” Obi-Wan informs the Council, squeezing your thigh possessively, then glances over at Anakin with fondness in his eyes, “She has raised my Padawan with me without asking for anything in return. She has selflessly given us her love. I cannot imagine us without her.”

You flush, and Anakin pipes up, shocking you both.

“I have a mother who gave birth to me and raised me as best as she could until I was nine. But Mercy is my mother as well. I think… I think my mom would be happy to know that a woman and Alpha as strong and kind as Mercy was raising me in her absence.” The young Alpha says, and you have to blink away tears at the love in your son’s voice. The Council members before you seem to soften at Anakin’s declaration, and finally, all of the tension bleeds from the room.

“We welcome you, Mercy and her sui’ruun. You will be given chambers with your ruunad and kuruun.” The blood orange Beta greets you all, and you can’t help but feel proud. You know Haelan, though not as well as you wish you did, and you know the words used are perfect. Sui’ruun means ‘family of my heart’ and is used to describe a family unit that does not limit itself to purely biological relations. Ruunad means ‘love of my heart’, and kuruun means ‘son of my heart’, once again acknowledging that your bonds transcend their biological limits.

“Thank you for your kind welcome.” Obi-Wan speaks for you, squeezing your thigh, “As discussed, we will be staying for at least a week, but perhaps two if time permits. Mercy would like to get to know her people better, and we wish to immerse ourselves in Haelan culture. We know this is a very rare opportunity, and both myself and my Padawan swear that we will show the utmost respect for the knowledge bestowed upon us.”

The Council members titter, looking between themselves for a moment before the forest green Omega offers Obi-Wan a wide smile. His eyes crinkle at the corners, and his Alpha stares adoringly at him, their tails entwined in front of their chairs.

“You are Mercy’s sui’ruun. She maintains her Haelan citizenship despite being sent to the Jedi, as do all Haela. Thus, you are one of us, despite your… unfortunate lack of marriage. Your kuruun, if formally acknowledged, would be offered the same status.” He informs you all, and you feel a rush of butterflies in your stomach at the concept of being married to Obi-Wan. He glances at you, clearly feeling that excitement but not totally sure of the source.

What’s got you so happy, my love?

I was… he mentioned marriage and… I will admit, it got me a little excited.

Obi-Wan blushes, but you feel a similar excitement from him.

Is that something you would like to inquire about? I would be thrilled to marry you, Mercy. The only reason I haven’t brought it up before was because it isn’t seen as a necessity back home since we are force-mates. This is not the first time I have considered it.

That’s why I didn’t bring it up either. I have thought about it, but we haven’t had a lot of time to consider marriage with how busy we’ve been lately.

“We would happily go about the process of formally acknowledging our son, should he wish it. We would also like to inquire about how marriage works on Haelstruum.” Obi-Wan states and you feel your heart flutter like a bird caught in the cage of your ribs. The Council members seem to have a positive reaction, and the violet Omega nods.

“We will discuss this tomorrow. Stalwart will take you to your chambers, and we will introduce you further to Haelan culture in the morning. You will be fetched at the eighth hour for your morning meal.”

Stalwart, the navy Alpha, stands from his chair and approaches you, leading you from the room. On your walk to your chambers, he tells you the virtue names of the Council members. The violet Omega woman is named Lawmaster, while the periwinkle Omega woman is named Wonder. The crimson Omega man is named Regal, while the forest green Omega man who appeared to be the Alpha’s mate is named Poet. The blood orange Beta woman is named Wildheart, and the magenta Beta man is named Medic. Each Council member represents a region of Haelstruum, and speaks on their interests. Stalwart himself comes from the river people who live a constantly moving life up and down the river that gives the region life, Crea’nur.

You hesitate as Stalwart opens the doors to a comfortable looking living area, with branching paths to bedrooms and a fresher. Anakin heads in to try and claim the nicest room, while Obi-Wan follows him to ensure he doesn’t snag the master bedroom from them, and you watch them go fondly before turning to the other Alpha.

“I would like to ask you a question, however I worry that it might be sensitive.” You keep your voice low for privacy, and Stalwart smiles crookedly, showing off the tip of a pointy fang.

“Ask away. I’ll do my best not to be terribly offended.” He replies, and you chuckle, leaning back against the hallway wall.

“You wear a rather pretty collar. I wondered if it was commonplace among Haela, or if it was specific to your relationship.” You admit, and Stalwart raises an eyebrow, still smiling. Well, at least you hadn’t offended him.

“It is traditional for an Alpha to be collared by his or her Omega once they’ve been mated and wedded, while the Omega wears a corresponding ring.” Stalwart replies, “The collar can only be removed by their Omega, however, the ring can be freely removed. This symbolizes the truth of the dominance offered to Alphas by their Omega - we are only dominant because our Omega allows it.”

You nod, feeling an odd stirring in your chest that makes you take a deep, ragged breath. Stalwart smiles knowingly.

“Could I-”

“You can be fitted for one once you wed your Omega. I would recommend you visit the market while you’re here. You have a strong relationship with your Omega… I believe you would enjoy the offerings of a store called Open Hand in basic. You’ll notice that the market uses basic alongside Haelan for the few visitors we have.” Stalwart explains, and you nod eagerly, thanking him. He nods, leaving you in the hallway while you struggle with how much of yourself appears to be explained by your heritage.

~

“Genetic memory. You are exemplary of it.” Poet explains, circling you in the middle of a large fighting pit. The Council meeting in the morning was productive, and you had received the holocron as promised. Afterwards, Poet and Stalwart offered to teach you some of the things you’d been so curious about. It turns out that there was something to your musings about parts of your identity being nature rather than nurture, Haelan despite being raised far from your culture. Poet informs you that it is natural, part of your genetics, and that it has more to offer you than simply a strong spine and compassionate soul.

“This fighting stance you adopted instinctually is part of your genetic memory. Once shown the katas, your body will begin to move naturally. Your DNA remembers Druma even if you’ve never seen one. Kirroger will feel like old friends. Your home knows you and welcomes you, no matter how long it’s been since you’ve been here.” Poet explains, and you nod along, watching Stalwart demonstrate the katas for the Haelan form which roughly translates to ‘Way of the Kirroger’. Poet’s smile widens as he watches you begin to mimic his mate, instinct driving you, your blood singing as you stop watching and move on your own. You swirl, sliding to your knees and spinning under an invisible assailant’s attack, then driving upwards with a strike, followed by the smooth motions of a throw. Your blood roars in your ears as you slow to a stop to find your small family standing beside the Haela Council members, observing you with fondness in their eyes.

~

Sage requests a meeting with you, and Medic informs you that the requests of Sage are not so much requests, but demands. The mystic meets you in shaded chambers deep in the mountain, at the side of a cave lake of clear turquoise waters. Multicoloured fish swim around you, through vibrant corals and bioluminescent algae. Sage gestures for you to sit, and you do, adopting a meditation pose similar to her own.

“You are the child of Munir, an omen from the Gods, the great change. You were given away to fulfill your destiny, weiruun. It appears you are walking that path, and making your people proud.” Sage informs you, and you feel your world tilt. Your ears flick, tail winding behind you as you try to figure out how to ask the multitude of questions screaming in your mind.

“I thought I was considered a bad omen.” You whisper, and Sage nods gravely.

“A misunderstanding I sought to correct. There are a great many… miscommunications between the Haela and the outside world. You have a destiny that required you to be among the Jedi, but you were never unwanted. Your parents loved you dearly. They were endlessly proud of you.” Sage says, and you feel stinging at the corners of your eyes as you realize what she’s telling you.

“How did it happen?” You ask, and Sage gives you a sad smile.

“Your imran, your mother, was a warrior of great renown. She lost her life defending a group of Haela from slavers. Your imril, your father was lost shortly after, following those remaining threads to finish your mother’s work. Take heart, for they achieved their goal and kept a great many Haela from a terrible fate.” Sage explains, and you have to centre yourself in the Force to keep yourself balanced. An intense feeling of sympathy sinks into you like a blanket around your shoulders, and you take comfort in the embrace of the Force.

“Thank you for telling me their story. I will do my best to honour them, and live a life of which they would be proud.” You reply, and Sage smiles, squeezing your hand.

“You already have, little one.”

~

“Will you use Haelan vows?” Lawmaster asks, and Obi-Wan smiles, sweet enough to make you nearly swoon. He explains your plan, in which you will use traditional Haelan vows, followed by the Jedi code to honour your family. Anakin has been running you ragged, forcing you to take him through the katas for the Way of the Kirroger just like you’d promised him. He’s lacking instinct and a tail, but he has been making progress, and seems to enjoy the new form. It’s very adaptable, you observe, easily accommodating the vibro-weapons that Haela tend to use. You don’t think it would take much to make it into a new lightsaber form, though you keep that to yourself. Who knows if the Jedi would even be open to a new form? Mace Windu’s Vaapad is the latest addition, and even it is simply a variation of the pre-existing Juyo. No, until you’ve mastered your form, you will keep it to yourself and your little family.

Your wedding ceremony is set to occur tonight at sundown as per Haela tradition. It isn’t a long ceremony, as many Haela were traditionally wed during long hunts. After your wedding ceremony, you will undergo another called ‘The Claiming’, in which you will formally acknowledge Anakin as your son. In Haelan society, this doesn’t negate his true parentage. He can be both Shmi’s son, and yours. Biological and spiritual, side by side. You know he’s excited - he’s been practically glowing since you asked him if it was something he would consider.

Later that evening, you stand before Lawmaster once more as she recites the traditional Haelan vows. Both yourself and Obi-Wan are dressed in your nicest robes, and both of you have been put through very different versions of a Haelan spa day. Obi-Wan’s beard has been trimmed, oiled and brushed. His hair is perfectly coiffed, his smile serene as he gazes at you. You admire him shamelessly, pleased to find that his mating mark is fully on display. He holds your open hands in his, thumbs stroking across your palms, and your tail is wrapped around his thigh.

“I vow to always protect you from harm, to stand with you against your troubles, and to look to you when I need protection in turn. I vow to honour you, cherish you, and guide you through the darkness. I will raise our children with compassion, kindness, honour and wisdom. This I pledge to you as I take you as mine.” Obi-Wan recites, and you smile as his force signature brightens with every word.

“Your battles are mine. Your worries are mine. I will be your guiding light through darkness and despair. I vow to be your shield, your guide, and your provider. I am yours, and you are mine, from this day til the end of days. I vow to honour you and our children in a household full of love. You will never be alone - I will stand at your side through all of life’s challenges. This I pledge to you as I take you as mine.” You reply, shivering as Lawmaster pushes on your shoulder until you kneel at Obi-Wan’s feet. He stares down at you with blue eyes ablaze, clasping a collar of (favourite metal) around your neck. It sits just above your scent glands, leaving your mating mark in full view, and your eyes go half-lidded and pleased at the feeling of the cool metal around your throat. It feels right.

Obi-Wan lets you take his hand, and you slip a gold ring onto his finger, letting him see the surprise inside. The force crystal given to you by your old master many, many years ago gleams in the centre of the ring, and Obi-Wan gasps at the sight of it. He knows the significance - knows what it means for you to part with one of your most prized, and loved, possessions. You stand, tipping Obi-Wan’s head back delicately so you can press heated kisses across his mating mark. He grabs your collar and pulls you into a proper kiss that sends fire racing through you, down to the tips of your toes.

“You are one.” Lawmaster says, “Now, bring forth your child.”

Anakin steps forwards, his eyes darting between the both of you as if you’ll suddenly tell him it was all a joke. You chuff at him and he melts, chuffing back as he takes his place between you and your new husband.

“Who claims this child, Anakin Skywalker, son of Shmi Skywalker?” Lawmaster asks, and you clasp your hand around Anakin’s.

“This child is mine.” You declare, and you feel Anakin trembling, his Force signature brighter than the sun.

“And he is mine.” Obi-Wan finishes, taking Anakin’s other hand.

“Commit yourselves.” Lawmaster instructs you both, and you turn to Anakin in unison, offering him a soothing smile.

“I vow to protect you from all harm, be it of the body, mind or spirit. I vow to guide you through darkness and light, to follow the path laid before your feet. I vow to love you so dearly no one will ever have reason to question that you were meant to be mine, my son, my heart. I swear to give you shelter from the storm, feed you when you are hungry, support you when you are unbalanced, and forgive you when you err. I take you as my son, from this day until the end of days, and curse anyone who would try to part us.” You and Obi-Wan recite together, and you can’t help but smile at the way Anakin squeezes your hands so tightly you think he might accidentally break a bone.

“Do you accept this declaration of love and family, Anakin Skywalker?” Lawmaster asks, and he nods, clearing his throat before speaking hoarsely.

“I do.”

“Then, it is done. You came to us as Anakin Skywalker, and you leave us as Anakin Skywalker-Kenobi, son of two families. Never forget how loved you are.” Lawmaster claps her hands together, and you pull Obi-Wan and Anakin into a hug, smothering them both in kisses that even Anakin doesn’t try to pretend to protest. Together with your husband, you clasp a necklace around your son’s neck, an intricate cage of white gold around a crystal found only on Haelstruum called Crearuun. The crystal shines violet, and you can’t imagine a more perfect thing to represent your love.