#shes naturally very clumsy and breaks things very easily. she also lives in the woods!!

[potatobugz]

At last, I have a creature for every color on the hemospectrum... (except for like,, lime but yknow)

[mercurytrinemoon]

Another post on Moon signs you can drag me for

Before we get into the actual thing, I'd like to say this post initially started as something else but ultimately, what I tried to put across is, sometimes Moon signs aren’t that easy to decipher. It’s easy to grasp overall characteristics of the signs and then learn how to identify their specific traits. But what people seem to forget it that Moon represents the deepest side of us & our inner world - it’s uncommon to really see someone’s side of it unless you really pay attention. Sometimes I’m surprised to see what someone’s Moon sign is even if I know this person well. Meaning, people usually hide that part of them - or they just simply process it internally and others can’t see their emotional reactions. It’s also uncommon for folks these days to fully express their emotional needs so it gets even trickier to pin-point their Moon characteristics. I don't think I have to mention this but, of course, your entire chart should be taken into account, as well as house placement, aspects. Personally, I like to also look at Moon's dispositor.

Let’s start from my friends, Gemini Moons, who, I feel, get a bad rep for not showing their feelings and scanning every emotion like an AI. Nah-ah. I know this one Gemini Moon whose immediate emotional reactions aren’t very cerebral in the sense of processing everything in the mind and intellectualizing it aka, what people like to label as being un-emotional. Instead her reactions are often fast (air energy) but physically expressed through Mercury (Gemini Moon’s dispositor) and Sun (overall identity) – she has them both in Aries. She’s a crybaby who can burst into tears in a matter of seconds. So she’s not something that would stereotypically be assigned to a Gemini Moon. But what I did notice is that all Gemini Moons tend to have this weird look on their face when they’re processing stuff. As if they were about to have a brain malfunction; they stop and have that specific worried look. They also like to either gossip or tell stories (either real or made up lol); they’re great with words - they can talk for hours if they feel comfortable with you. They just crave interaction and mental stimulation. Their quick reactions tend to make them effortlessly witty. Even if they’re a withdrawn Gemini type, they make up for it through social media and technology or just a quiet exploration. My shy Cancer pal with Moon in Gemini is now a brand/website designer and an instagram queen who travels the world. This is great energy for content creators in general. And don’t forget that Geminis need to have their fingers in many pies. It’s because they always have a backup plan… and they get bored easily so they need that chaos around them to feel at home. They like to have options in everything, which is kind of funny cause it’s hard for them to make up their minds and actually choose something. And they store a lot of information in their brains… I feel like it must be exhausting, no? 

On the other side of the axis, whenever I see someone with a Sagittarius Moon, I can immediately say “yup, a Sag Moon indeed” (probably thanks to my Sag stellium), meaning, they all seem the same to me. Sag Moons often find comfort in exploration - best if it’s literal travel. They always seem to need to free themselves from their surroundings, family, roots or their own culture to discover something new and exciting, even if it’s only in the imaginary words - through books, movies and other medias. Their happiness always lies somewhere else from where they currently are. Like, I think all Sagittarius Moons that I know have left their parents and went their own paths early on. And they have this yolo attitude. Just like Sagittarius Suns, they’re massive dorks, probably also obnoxious… sometimes in a REALLY annoying way. They’re either a) very wise and curious b) lil preachy and stuck up c) just plain dumb clowns with no filter. But they’re all funny. And they take things lightly, with a natural ease. This means sometimes they may offend other people just because they assume everyone’s as chill as they are; „relax! I was just kidding!” - that’s a phrase you’ll hear from them often… I mean, unless you’re a jokester yourself and you’re unmoved by their sarcastic or teasing words. They have somewhat spiritual or philosophical nature so besides making you laugh, be prepared for deep monologues. They want to believe everything will eventually fall into place. It’s also hard to bring them down - or I should say, it’s hard to make them acknowledge that they're feeling down - they always try to distract or cover it up with a joke, usually a self-depricating one. If Sagittarius Moon (or Sagittarius in general tbh) is telling you that they’re unhappy, then it’s serious.

I’ve noticed there comes a point in life for a Libra Moon where they just have enough. They’re too nice for everyone and one day they wake up and yell about how they have to do everything for everyone and everyone wants something from them and bLah bLah. Makes me think of when Bieber was this overly nice kid and then he was like “I’M NOT TAKING PICTURES WITH FANS ANYMOREEEE AAGhJFJFUWIUq”. Yup, a Libra Moon, everyone. They know how to charm and appeal to people, I think overall they’re easily liked by others. Sometimes it’s simply because they like to kiss people’s ass just to avoid being rejected. That’d be a Libra Moon’s nightmare. They like other people’s company too much. And they thrive in relationships and in a big circle of friends. What they hate is confrontations (like every other Libra placement omg). They may be good mediators when it comes to other people but if they’re involved in an argument they get sooooo passive aggressive. They just don’t know how to handle conflicts - it’s as if their nervous system wasn’t designed for emotional outbursts (because, you know, everything needs to be peaceful and harmonious Venus-style). A fussy or angry Libra Moon will suddenly get loud as they blame someone for something… and then they’ll leave the room cause they’re scared to even hear the other side of the argument. Or, alternatively, they’ll make a doormat out of themselves just to stay quiet and avoid causing any rift. And making decisions? I think it’s common for them to have two different romantic interests and feeling so dramatically torned between them *Alexa play Agony from Into the Woods*. Then when they decide, they have problems breaking the bad news to one of them.

On the other end we have Aries Moons. *deep breath* Listen, I think I’ve said enough about having Moon in Aries (or rather purely dissing it) but last time it made a bit of controversy so why not wreak even more havoc. I have a good description for this one: I will punch you but be gentle with me cause it’s easy to break my fragile heart. So basically, imagine putting Buttercup and Bubbles into one person. And honestly, I need to say this, women with this placement are just hot badasses, look at friggin Angelina Jolie. The queen of badass. The queen of hot. People say because Aries folks move quickly (literally and figuratively lol), they often get bored with whatever got them excited last week... or yesterday. Ha, yeah, right. You get their heart to open up and they’re going to have their eyes for you ONLY, like a lil puppy. Give us treats and we’ll build our world around you. But NOT in a clingy way by any means, we need our space and independence after all. My lil niece is an Aries Moon and ever since I started playing guitar with her, she became my #1 fan or something. That’s the energy. But we get easily bored with day-to-day stuff so yeah, there’s that. Innocent and clumsy yet raw in their emotions - so there’s potential to make mistakes sometimes (or a lot of times) or having this tunnel vision, like „I want this and I don’t care about anything else!”. And then excusing it with some „but the heart wants what it wants” crap (looking @ ya, Selena Gomez). They experience constant inner movement and turbulence that needs a physical outlet in order to feel satisfied. WE NEED PASSION IN OUR LIVES, OKAY?!?!?? now leave me alone

Aquarius Moons aren’t as cold as you might think. People like to describe them as if their Moons actually disappeared from their charts: dEtaCheD, uNeMotiOnaL, tHey fEeL nOtHinG. It’s just they don’t sit and dwell on things, they find solutions to the problems. If something doesn’t make them feel right, they just leave that situation. They do care about other people’s well-being, they’re very sensitive in that regard, they’re humanitarians after all. Yeah, they detach, but from their own emotions - in order to make sense of them. They may seem like snow queens sometimes (and this comes from an Aqua rising) but they’re really friendly and if you pique Aqua Moon’s interest, they’re going to be curious about you. They like new exciting things so if you’re cool enough, you have their attention. Usually they’re pretty progressive as well and can’t stand injustice. That’s why you’ll see them standing up for those who are in need. Uranian energy gives them a specific type of sharp intuition and wit. Idk they’re just cute in a quirky way. But this buzzing, fast energy is a great recipe for anxiety, over-thinking and frequent changes of heart. Similarly to Sadges, they need constant exploration and stimuli. Intelligent, people-oriented (but not people-pleasing! Look to Libras for that), individualistic. They definitely need their own space and independence. Their decision-making is fast and it’s easy for them to just say „screw it, I’m doing this”. My Aquarius Moon friend just casually decided that she’s moving to Turkey cause nothing in our city (or even country) seems interesting or helping her expand… So she was like, see ya suckers, I’m leaving.

Leo Moons shine from within. You’ll spot them from a mile away even if they’re on the shyer side. They’re all lil stars no matter their profession. Very expressive people & easily excitable. Art galleries, live shows, theater - they love a creative environment even if they don’t pursue that lifestyle themselves... One of my Leo Moon friends is an art junkie – suggest taking her to an obscure play at the local bar, a music festival, a weird museum – she’ll say yes in the blink of an eye. And she loves discussing these things. A Leo Moon may not see themselves as artistically inclined, but usually sooner or later they at least try dipping their toes in music, arts, acting, dancing... you name it. They’ll learn a simple 3-chord song on a ukulele and then play it to you in excitement. Imagine a lil kid making you a puff piece and being super proud of it. Sometimes they just need some encouragement. Remember, Leos feed off of praise, that’s their fuel. Doesn’t mean they’re all proud, egotistical people but what it does mean is that they need a lil assurance to gain their self-confidence. I lived with a Leo Sun/Moon for almost 15 years (who’s a musician btw so yeah, a classic creative Leo type) - he did have some issues lol but ego wasn’t one of them. Drama followed him everywhere but I’m pretty sure he disliked it himself. BUT, with that being said, I feel like Leo Moons tend to dramatize themselves internally. People say it’s something Virgos or Geminis would do - because of their tendency to overthink, but Leos can just go straight to a worst-case scenario in their heads simply because they exaggerate everything. So don’t be surprised to see a Leo Moon feeling down and anxious. On the bright side, be their cheerleader and they’ll give that to you in return. They need sparks and dullness kills their upbeat spirit. They need to feel their own heartbeat so the feeling of excitement is crucial for their well-being. Romantic, giving and kind. They’re fixed fire so once they’re set on something or someone, they give their all and are rather loyal.

I feel like my chart low-key tells me I should dislike Taurus Moons but I just want to melt in their arms and just stay there? Like, forever? Low maintenance but a bit slow-moving and stubborn. They won’t settle easily, at least not officially, so you need to have a lot of patience with them. They need 3 things to feel secure and at peace: physical stimuli, time and a stable place they know they can always come back to. And it’s not like all of them are total lazy homebodies, they may be active spirits & travellers but they are going to have a reallyyyyy nice cosy flat somewhere near their childhood place (gotta be be close to their moms, you know). Not necessary materialistic but they may have one thing that they collect throughout their entire life and they won’t. ever. get. rid. of. it. There needs to be at least one constant in their life - like you know when Elton John decided to go to therapy but one thing he stuck to was shopaholism? Very Taurus Moon of him. Also, they’re very affectionate. In fact, may have issues differentiating between affection and passion - this is actually something Taurus Moon and Aries Moon have in common. Pro tip - and this is in regard to all Taurus placements - don’t smell bad when you’re around them (I mean, don't smell bad in general, no one likes stinky people lol). They have a sensitive smell. Doesn’t help that they like to smell everything. EVERYTHING. I swear, Taurus, stop sticking your nose in every single thing!!! You don't need to know how that piece of utensil smells like. Jeez.

Scorpio Moon (shoutout to those who remember me accidentally calling them sporpio last time I made a post on Moons lol). I honestly don’t know what to tell you... I feel like all you hear about Scorpio Moon is 100% true, there’s nothing to debunk here. It’s the Moon of extremes. Prone to jealousy and surpressing emotions; severe trust issues; they’re instigators. I was low-key bullied by a few Scorpio Moons when I was in school so there’s that. Very secretive and private. Scorpio Moon will be like “I’m in control of the situation!!!!” and you’ll just look at them and think, yeah, right, looks like the situation is controlling you. But keep being in denial, sure. Like, don’t get me wrong, Scorpios in general can be TOTAL SWEETHEARTS OMG but ya’ll have issues. Even celebrities who have this placements... Think Beyonce or Lady Gaga, Miley Cyrus... I feel like they have issues lol, especially with control and the need for everything to be perfectly the way they want it to be. To be fair, that’s probably why they’re all so influential and high status: it’s either their way or highway. They need constant reinvention; they’re the ones to wake up one day and decide they’re going through a spiritual awakening blah blah. They also like to talk about dark and shocking topics while having casual lunch with you... So like, be warned that you may end up with a depressed mood after talking to them for 10 minutes. And their mood swings... don’t even get me started on that.

I don't know where to start with Virgo Moons... I feel like they're very calculated and nit-picky but they're a lot warmer than Virgo Suns. I think I called them softies in my last Moon post. Very sweet people but prone to anxiety. You gotta experience seeing them having a heart attack over someone mixing bananas with milk or messing with their stuff that’s been put in a perfect arrangement. I saw a Virgo Moon once literally squealing shouting "YOU'RE GONNA RUIN YOUR LAPTOP WITH THAT SUPERGLUE!!!" Highly entertaining to watch, not gonna lie. Gordon Ramsay has his Moon in Virgo - it’s conjunct Uranus and Pluto so that’s an extreme but I think him being fed up with people over small inconsistencies in their food prep is a perfect example of this energy (btw his chart is hilarious, it literally explains EVERYTHING). They're VERY picky with their food as well, just as Virgo Suns tend to be. Like, they’ll only have a specific type of single origin coffee or they’ll be vegan or something. Self-critical over their work, which is a plus... except for when finishing a simple task takes them a few hours because they want to make it perfect. They take everything seriously. This of course doesn't mean they're total bores - on the contrary, Mercurial energy gives them witty approach and a talent for choosing the right words at the right time. Tho they can be a bit awkward or shy with it. Can be as bubbly as Gemini but the grounded earthy energy gives them more practical and almost nurturing nature - earth signs are providers after all and Virgo is the sign of service - helping others is like their second nature. I’ve noticed they often find comfort in devoting themselves to a choosen task - this is why if they pursue something, they’re really good at it. They’re also very likely to dissect their emotions.

I’m not a fan of water Moons in general but Pisces Moon is the best water Moon in my opinion. Maybe because I like Pisces overall. I think it’s like a tweaked Sagittarius Moon - just more internalized, withdrawn & gloomy. But unlike Sag, who has a tendency to be an adventurous optimist, Pisces likes to focus on the negatives instead. Obviously, they can be very upbeat, they’re Jupiter-ruled after all, but there’s somehing whiny about them lol. Just like Sadges, they dream big and have their standards put up sooo high but if there's not much active energy in their charts, they’re often too passive to actually fullfill any of that - or I should say, they’re stuck daydreaming about it, believing it’ll just magically manifest for them... OR they do everything with an apathetic approach. What I do like about them is that they’re funny. And really chill - sometimes to the point of coming off as confused or hazy. I feel like a lot of them would just love to sleep all day... or sit by the lake and just think about the world. Most of them are also compassionate folks - again, maybe a bit too much. Hey Pisces, you don’t have to take everything to heart, it’s okay. On the bright side, they have big imagination and the ability to disconnect and just create. I have a few Pisces Moons in the family: one’s that sleepy artistic type with grand visions, one is an asshole-ish but funny entrepreneur with a questionable work ethic and one is a witty IT guy who’s actually a workaholic and likes to shut in his own world of computers and numbers or whatever he does there... So there’s this factor of tunnel vision, escapism and, on the more negative side, being kinda iffy and almost addicted to the way they want things to be. Once they set their eyes on something it’s done deal…

My issue with Capricorn Moons is that they're often trying to be sooooo mature omg, like, loosen up a bit. It usually starts when they're in their later teens... They can be the most rebellious kid that likes to have fun and suddenly they'll be like "I'm too old for this ugh grow up" *judgmental stare*. My 18-year old niece once literally roasted my sister that she's in her 30s and still doesn't have her own place (well so do I so I guess she also indirectly roasted me as well???). And she was SO deadpan with it. Because she herself wants to be independent and start a family before turning 25. This is classic Capricorn Moon energy. They suck out joy out of everything lol. Of course, OF COURSE, it depends on the whole chart but I feel like worst-case scenario is that at one point in their life (or maybe even a few times throughout it) they go through a massive shake-up that makes them change their attitude and re-evaluate their structures. There's this multi-instrumentalist Yvette Young - she's a sweet, funny Cancer/Leo mix but her Moon is in Capricorn. She used to be a competitive pianist but the pressure that was put on her has led her to severe health issues. Like yes, she’s now an extremely talented musician - thanks to family’s expectations & a rigid schooling system (Saturn) but it did cost her a lot. She has recovered since then but I think it's a perfect example of this energy. It’s very ambitious and hardworking but emotionally demanding in the sense that you have to actually put your emotions aside in order to deal with the rest. Another thing, because Moon can be associated with family, there's often a weird dynamic surrounding this topic. I don't think I've met a Capricorn Moon that had a completely healthy and happy relationship with their fam or one of the family members. Or, alternatively, there can be a strong bond between one of them but usually created in the atmosphere of hardships.

Last but not least, Cancer Moons. I had three school friends with this placement and all of them made this sad, whiny face as they said „oh I don’t knoooow anymoreee”  when they were feeling torned or frustrated. To be fair, two of them are water Suns so for them, it added to the mushyness. All Cancer Moons I know are family people or better yet, baby people. One of those school friends is now a guidance counsellor, working with kids; the other turned her instagram into a gallery of her own child after she gave birth. So much kid content, omg. There’s also something very indecisive about them… or I should say, hesitant. They’re not very fast at making decisions. Also, what’s interesting, they’re kind of like walking libraries, they remember a lot – so they store a lot of information in their brains just like air signs but they process it in a completely different way – emotional, obviously. I think this also makes them hold grudges a lot. For them it’s more of a question of „how does it make me feel?” rather than „how valid is it?”. There’s certain stubborness in them in that regard because they don’t keep their minds open. It’s also hard for them to walk away from people and situations, like a crab pinching you with its claws – it won’t let go. Sensitive but not easy to open up; very protective of themselves and their loved ones & they tend to shut down in their crab shells. But they may crave connection and the feeling of belonging. Also very caring and with a big imagination. They’re very receptive of their environment so mood swings are a thing for them.

[angelguk]

what happens in this section is entirely a result of what guys voted please do not! come for my head in my inbox im begging. very sad in general like Angst with a capital A with a sprinkle of despair and pain. listen to mess it up by gracie abrams. roughly 2k.

(titled — out of line)

You thought Lucas would help, the warmth of his body a distraction from your aching heart, but he didn’t. Not the way you needed him to. He was sweet enough, made you giggle endlessly before finding his place between your thighs. But even with his tongue on your clit, your (now usually sober) mind still lingered on Jeongguk, his memory a stain on your soul. It didn’t help when you spotted him with a girl hanging off his arm, her bright eyes stuck on his face, soaking him in like the earth does the sun. You didn’t know her name – Chayoung took the liberty of whispering it to you after your biology lab. She was Hyeri, a sophomore with a delicate laugh and graceful disposition. That vile vindictive black thing that now inhabited your chest swelled, brain already comparing the differences between you and her. Your clumsiness suddenly felt like a curse, even though Jeongguk had countlessly said he loved you for it (or did he say that just to ease your worries?). Insecurities spring forth like weeds and you don’t have the capacity to keep the careful garden of your heart tended. 

They take over slowly, your eyes stinging whenever you see them huddled together in the quad. Bitter tears blinked back, your blinkered senses overlooking how Jeongguk’s quiet gaze followed your figure whenever you turned your back to him, even with Yoona yapping at his ears. 

Perhaps the despondency that clung to your bones is what led you here, face planted in the musky scent of Namjoon’s sheets, your heart throbbing funny. 

“Can you even breathe?” He questions. The timbre of his voice washes over you, familiar and somewhat reassuring. You twist upright to face him, eyes squeezing tight when the bright fluorescent lights in his room assaults your vision. 

“I was hoping my heart would give up if I held it in long enough.”

Namjoon stills, brown eyes flitting over you. He coughs like he’s working through various sets of words before he decides what’s most suitable. “And then what? I get framed for murder when they find your body here?”

You laugh, and it hurts. “Maybe. My body is very portable though, did you consider first burying me in the backyard?”

“Rookie mistake,” Namjoon returns. He rises to fetch the mugs of tea sitting idle on a stool he’d dragged from the corner of his room. “The sniffer dogs would fly straight to that location. Also, I’d have to dig a hole big enough to fit your head in.”

“And why would the dogs find me immediately?” You say, shuffling upright, palms ready to receive the tepid heat that will seep through the ceramic the moment the cup settles in your hand.

“Your perfume,” Namjoon says. He hands you the mug, heat fulfilling its chosen purpose, the scent of gentle jasmine wafting to your nose.

You pout then, glancing at him. “My perfume?”

“It’s distinct. Violet, right? Maybe vanilla too?” Namjoon says it easily, sinking beside you, utterly unaware of the ticking in your brain. Your gaze falters then, shifting to his broad shoulder and thick biceps. The ivy shirt he’s got on barely contains all that muscle in, fabric stretched thin. 

You take a sip of your tea, and despite the period Namjoon gave it to cool it still scalds your tongue. 

“Why do you know what fragrance I wear?” It comes out accusatory, but Namjoon handles it well, laughing low.

“You’ve had the same one since high-school, I think. And I remember you telling me.”

The fingers around your cup squeeze tight, your brain unlocking a moment you’d forgotten in the wake of brighter ones. A quiet afternoon at the back of your high-school, Namjoon towering over you, his nose trailing the hollow of your neck, a stray comment about how you smelled good washing over you. It was followed by a flustered younger version of you deflecting, heart pounding wild when Namjoon drew back to look at you as you rattled off the different sillages that made up your favourite perfume. He’d laughed, low like did just now, before calling you cute and pulling you in for a kiss. 

“Oh,” you finally murmur. “I remember now.”

You were actually going to change it after your break-up with him, but then Jeongguk had mentioned how much he’d liked it and the bottle had stayed.

Namjoon hums, his gaze slow as it shifts around the room. It’s a space that screams of him, light wood tones and plants breaking from the pristine white walls. Space carved for nature, a grounding sensation living within these four walls – something that seems to live inside of Namjoon too.

“How are you?” He suddenly asks, turning slowly to measure your features. 

You blink hard, only realising then that you’d been staring at his face for a second too long. “F-fine. I’m okay. Just busy, y’know. Finals coming up, planning events; the usual.”

“I know,” Namjoon says with a ginger smile. “But that’s not what I’m asking. How are you? With Jeongguk and everything.”

“Oh.” You can’t answer that, his unexpected brazenness shocking your system. The smile on his lips fades, a solemnness in the brown of his eyes. His next words are earnest, and they settle in the pit of your stomach.

“Y/N, I know you didn’t just come here to chat for no reason. We can talk about Jeongguk, that’s okay.”

“N-no, we don’t need it. We’re over. It’s been two months already. We’re seeing other people and I don’t really want to discuss one of my exes with another one. And maybe I did just come to see you,” you tack on an empty laugh at the end, hoping Namjoon doesn’t read right through you.

But he does. Like a part of you hoped he would.

“I’m your friend, you know. We had something but nothing like what you and Jeongguk have. Two months isn’t going to make a lifetime disappear. It’s okay if you still feel bad.”

That’s what cracks you, a well-aimed hammer knocking your walls right down. You bite your lip hard, fingertips pinching the ceramic in your grasp, and swallow the tears looming in your throat with a choked laugh. 

“I’m fine, Namjoon. I feel a little like shit but I’m working on it. And Lucas is a great guy–”

“But he’s not Jeongguk.” The sentence feels heavy as if it carries the weight of many hearts on it. But it’s also a line you were thinking about earlier, even with Lucas pressed against you.

“That’s not what I would say–”

“But it’s what you were thinking,” Namjoon cuts. Maybe there’s a peephole in your head that only Namjoon has access to. “And that’s fine. It sucks for Lucas, though. But you shouldn’t feel bad for thinking that way. Especially when you know how special Jeongguk is to you.”

Special. The word is bright, glimmering like Jeongguk’s eyes do. 

“I-I just–it just–I don’t know.” The tears you’d attempted to seal inside burst, slipping down your cheeks quiet. Namjoon pry's the mug from your hand, replaces its warmth with his own, and for a split second things feel bearable. 

“Hey, hey,” he murmurs, a calloused palm on your damp cheek, his steadiness clearing away the gloomy skies in your head. But he doesn’t tell you to stop crying, doesn’t whisper that it’ll be okay. He just tugs you closer, rests your splinting head on his wide chest, and soaks up the tears on your face with his shirt. Like the earth does for the pouring heavens. 

You eventually hiccup the despair down, finding the words to explain to Namjoon what you were feeling in between the moments where breathing didn’t feel like a race. He takes the news of Jeongguk kissing somebody days after your break-up with wide eyes, his eyebrows drawing together. And then comes the second girl, you don’t even know her name but it still cleaves something out of you. And finally, Hyeri. Her name is a lament.

“And it sucks because he looks happy with her and I still want him to be happy because I still love him. I love him so much it hurts.”

Namjoon cocks his head then, his wide palm sliding down your back. “You think Jeongguk looks happy?”

“Yes?” But it’s a question, your upward gaze on his face imploring.

Namjoon shakes his head instead. You don’t hear it, the following words a deep muffled murmur, “Both of you are idiots.” But you see the twinkle in his eyes and it makes your back straighten.  

You want to pester but Namjoon pulls you closer, and you lose yourself in the feeling of him, before a question can register on your tongue. His arms are huge, like sturdy branches defying the blistering gales of your heart. He lets you cry for a little longer, listening intently to the continuing spew of words from your lips, until the storm quiets into a breeze. 

“Okay?” Namjoon asks.

You stick your head further into his chest, breathe him in deep. “Okay.”

When he shifts away your skin freezes, but then you realise he’s reaching for a blanket. He swathes it around you fondly, pulling you in for a swift hug before falling out of your reach once more. 

“Now, I think we both need a moment to process that.” He’s talking about but you’re not listening, your eyes on his face, gaze gently trailing the curve of his lips. “I also think we need food before we start unpacking the mess you’re in–”

You swallow the sentence with your lips, salt singeing the corners of your mouth. But your movements are not reciprocated, Namjoon’s mouth is still under yours. The soft hand on your neck guiding you away is what pulls you back, right out of that strange dark desperate ocean that held you. 

“Y/N–”

“Sorry, shit–shit, I shouldn’t have done that.” But there’s no use now, you can’t take it back. Namjoon is looking at you with those eyes, the ones that feel like pity. His sympathy suddenly makes you feel sick, and you wish the ceiling would give away and shatter your head. “I should go.” 

He tries to stop you, firm but gentle with his words and hands. But you’re a wild storm again and nothing can stop you from snatching your butterfly tote bag from the floor of his room and fleeing. The black thing that had been subdued for a moment reemergence with vengeance the second you hit the sidewalks, vision reeling. How could you do that? To Namjoon? To the stable friendship you'd created? But he felt too warm, too caring, too much of everything that you longing for and that Lucas could never give you.

Just a reminder of the swimmer's name as you skidding to a halt, the thump in your chest vicious. Maybe Jeongguk was right. Constantly painting yourself the victim while actively hurting the ones around you. Maybe you should have never let him kiss you again on that rooftop. Maybe you should have never tried to love him.

—

It’s silent in your head when you get back to your apartment. Sieun is home, finally back from her trip to her boyfriend’s parents place, so you’re not surprised to hear the soft hum of laughter filtering through the house. You don’t expect to find Chayoung there though. 

They���re huddling in the kitchen, drifting out cheery greetings when you trudge it, only to fall silent when you mumble back a hollow response. A gentle song floating from the radio fills the empty space, three bodies navigating something tense.  

“Were you with Lucas?” Sieun eventually pokes. She’s not a big fan of him. She’s not a big fan of the current break-up between you and Jeongguk either. She’s going to hate you for what you’re about to tell her.

“No,” you mumble. There are twenty notifications flashing across your phone screen, all from Namjoon. You feel sick, and you might cry again.

“Well? What’s with the long face?” Chayoung adds. 

You take a deep breath, gripping the marble counter tight before twisting around. Better to rip it off all at once right? And there’s no way you could hold this inside of you, not when there is barely any room for your broken heart.

“I kissed Namjoon.”

“WHAT?” Sieun’s jaw slams into the ground and Chayoung freezes beside her, like her joints have suddenly been welded together. They stare at you for long you might have grown a second head during it. And then the questions come, a torrent erupting. You blank for a second, and then the guilt crawls up your spine. It may only be thirteen past five in the afternoon but you definitely need a drink.

[midnightsvns]

Now I see daylight — a Twilight fanfic

summary: Edward spent his life so long in a ninety-year midnight. Now, all he sees is daylight. A short story about Nessie’s first prom. “How could I ever tell her how grateful I was? Grateful that she could always see past the worst of me and my mistakes. Grateful that she had unlimited selflessness, giving us the family I’d envisioned for her, but thought impossible for me. Grateful that she was all too happy to be the first and only love of my existence. Grateful that cruel fate, after our various ordeals, had turned merciful to bring us to this heaven.” words: 8,280.

AN: so. i was absolutely wrecked after reading the very sad note on which midnight sun ended. to lick my wounds, i wrote this fic, set 12 years after breaking dawn, on the day of nessie’s prom. 404 plot not found just fluff of edward & bella being happy with their now adult daughter. title/summary inspired by the t.s. song daylight. full text under the cut!

Bella and I walked with hands intertwined in the woods behind our house, on our way to the cottage a few miles away that served as our daughter Renesmee’s “room.” When she turned seven, we decided she deserved a space of her own, a space that was removed from her supernatural family who could hear every move she made even if she had a whole floor of the house to herself. It was not unlike the first cottage the three of us had lived in together, back in Forks, in the first year of Bella and I’s marriage. To me, those days seemed as close as yesterday—in reality, twelve years had passed like the blink of an eye. Our daughter was all grown-up now, about to graduate high school for the first time, and today was her very first prom.

We walked at human pace, enjoying the lights and the sounds of early morning in the forest. Before Bella, I would have hated moving at such a glacial pace, always wanting to reach my destination as fast as possible, never lingering under the sunlight long enough to contemplate the diamond-like sparkling of my marble skin. A constant reminder of my inhumanity. But now I relished having the chance to see my wife in the light of day. I knew that all the poets and philosophers who, for two thousand of years, had tried to define beauty, to describe it, had irrevocably failed—because none of them had been fortunate enough to witness Bella smiling and shining under the golden rays of sunlight. I squeezed her hand and chuckled to myself.

Bella, of course, noticed my jocularity. “What are you thinking about?” she wondered.

“I thought that was my line,” I replied, grinning at her. Bella easily controlled her gift now, raising and lowering her mental shields at will. Except in special moments of communication, her shields were always up. She could maintain shields around other people, too, granting peace for me and privacy for my family. The quiet that resulted inside my head was a balm; I could be thankful for it for a hundred years and it would not be enough.

She sighed, and her eyes were suddenly downcast. “Well, I’m glad one of us is cheerful enough to laugh today.” She stopped walking, let go of my hand, and sought shelter under the shadow of a large evergreen tree. I regretted seeing her move away from the sunshine.

Her mournful tone surprised me. “What’s wrong, love? You’ve been looking forward to Renesmee’s prom for weeks now.” It was all I heard the ladies at the house discussing as of late. Alice, our very own literal visionary, was making all their dresses, works of art that were sure to rival even the most revered of Paris’ haute couture scene. Rosalie was browsing our family’s sizable collection of jewelry—composed of heirlooms from our human lives and the very many anniversary gifts from over the decades—for the perfect sets of accessories that would go with Alice’s creations. Esme was renovating and redecorating the front room, the staircase, and the porch, in preparation for today’s sure-to-be endless photo opportunities.

Bella looked up at me, her golden eyes looking regretful. “I just… can’t help but be a little sad that she’s grown up so fast. She’s only twelve, Edward. I spent more time as a clumsy, awkward human child than I’ve spent as her mother,” Bella said, sighing again. “And now she’s graduating and going off to college for the first time? She’s not an adult! How are we even sure she’s fit to be by herself in the human world already? How is she gonna eat? How will she hunt? What if she needs us, or she gets hurt and Carlisle can’t get to her in time? She can’t just go to a human doctor!” Her voice got more and more agitated with every worry she voiced. “And what if she starts dating? And she doesn’t tell us because we’re not there?! She says she’s not interested in anyone romantically now, boys or otherwise, but it’s her first four years in college! She’s bound to catch the sights of some… some no-good jerk who—”

“Stop, Bella,” I said gently, interrupting her before she could spiral any further. I had to resist the urge to laugh at her tirade. It reminded me of the time I went on a very similar, equally anxious rant. Emmett had thought I was a crazy person, worrying about the myriad things that could wipe the human girl I loved out of existence. This time, though, these worries were much easier for me to assuage than when I was fretting over Bella’s mortality and her uncanny ability to attract danger.

I joined her under the cover of the tree and held her marble face in my hands. “Love, I understand wholly all of your anxieties. They’re mine, too. But we need to put a significant amount of trust and faith in our daughter if we want to stay sane during the next four years,” I said earnestly, cracking a little smile, and then started addressing Bella’s concerns one at a time.

“I’m also sad that it has been just twelve short years, and already, we have to let her go. And as much as we may not like it, she is an adult now. She has been for five years. I know she grew up too fast, but if that is the small sacrifice that makes the miracle of her existence possible, then so be it. And she’s had no problems being around humans since she started high school with us when she was eight. As for her eating habits, well, I am worried about the amount of junk food she’ll consume once she is left unsupervised. And she doesn’t need to hunt as frequently as we do…. Once, maybe twice, a month, she can come back here and any one of us would love to go hunting with her. She is also not so fragile that she would ever need the care of any other doctors than Carlisle, Rosalie, or me. As for her first romantic relationship, well... she’s smart, strong-willed. We have to trust that we have raised her well enough that she’ll be responsible, that she’ll know how to protect her heart, and that she’ll be comfortable enough to turn to us for any questions she might have. You are a good mother, Bella. You raised an amazing young woman.” She looked as though she was about to argue, but she said nothing. She must have lowered her shield because I heard her thoughts instead: We raised an amazing young woman. You, Carlisle, Esme, Rose, Alice, Emmett, and Jasper… Even Charlie, Sue, Jacob, and Seth. It really does take a village. Her smile was wry.

I shook my head and smiled back at her. She was still bad at taking compliments. “We just have to trust Ness, love. As much as I would never want to see her hurt, we have to let her make her own mistakes. To let her take risks. And we have to give her freedom while she still thinks it’s ours to grant. If she thinks she’s not ready for this yet, or becomes overwhelmed in any way, she knows she can come back home at any time. All we can do is be there for her, and as long as she knows she’s not alone in this, that she never has to carry the world on her shoulders because we’re supposed to carry part of it for her… She will be fine.”

I looked straight into my wife’s eyes, still holding her face, hoping I had eased her anxieties a little. She visibly relaxed, then placed her hands over mine.

“You know, I really hate it when you make sense,” Bella stated matter-of-factly, glaring at me and pouting a little. I laughed and gave her a soft kiss on the cheek. Then I pulled her close to my side and led us back on the way to Renesmee’s cottage. If, thirteen years ago, anyone—even Alice—had told me that someday I would be trying to soothe Bella after a bout of anxiety instead of the other way around, I would have laughed in their face.

We made it to the cottage in companionable silence, and Bella’s mood seemed cheerier than before, back to being excited for the day’s events. She knocked on the door, calling for Nessie to wake up, but our daughter opened the door in a flash, greeting us with a chipper hello and a wave to indicate that we should let ourselves in.

“Good morning, Ness. You’re up early,” I commented. Not that our daughter was a late sleeper, but she was also not what one would call a morning person.

“I’m very well-rested, thank you,” she said, walking to the couch in the middle of the cottage’s main living area and plopping down onto it.

“How many hours did you sleep last night?” I asked, suspicious. Half-human, half-vampire hybrid though she was, Carlisle’s recommendation was still at least seven hours of sleep a night, and she often ignored it.

“Seven,” she replied too fast. I raised an eyebrow.

“Okay, six. Maybe five total…” she grimaced, sheepish now. “I was reading books! And I finished a movie.” I was unhappy to hear it. We really didn’t have an exact number of how many hours of sleep she needed each night, but I was sure five wasn’t enough for anyone, human or otherwise. I shook my head and sat next to her on the couch.

The cottage was a cozy place, with a kitchenette in the main room, one bedroom and a small bathroom down a narrow hallway. The main area was where Nessie spent most of her time, a rectangular room with big windows that let in a generous amount of natural light. The wide wall in front of the couch served as the canvas for a mural of the turquoise sea and white-sand beach at Isle Esme, painted from memory by Bella and Renesmee. The three of us had spent two weeks there a couple of years ago to celebrate Nessie’s birthday and my tenth wedding anniversary with Bella. It was my favorite painting in the world.

On the eastern wall was a bay window, Renesmee’s favorite reading nook, flanked by two tall bookshelves. And in front of the couch was a low coffee table, cluttered with books, stacks of paper, journals, pens, paints and paintbrushes, canvasses, coffee mugs, and a laptop. I sighed. The organized chaos, as Ness often referred to it, reminded me much of her mother’s old room at the Swan residence. Bella started tidying up the table immediately, replacing books onto the shelves and rearranging the mess on the table. I turned my attention to the kitchenette’s dirty dishes and the haphazardly discarded clothes on the couch, shaking my head at the untidiness. She spent her days with us either at school or at the main house, and sometimes even slept there when she felt like it. How could one girl create so much disarray after one night?

“Mom, Dad, stop it, I’ll do that later…” Nessie admonished us halfheartedly, but we were done cleaning up before she finished speaking the sentence.

“Did you already have breakfast, honey?” Bella asked.

Ness nodded and grinned. “I had cereal and two Pop-Tarts.”

Wonderful. Clearly she knew how to make healthy choices. I almost wished for the time before she had outgrown her distaste for human food. At least on a diet of animal blood, we knew she was getting some nutrients.

Bella rolled her eyes, although I knew she wasn’t really annoyed. “Esme will make you eat some fruit at the house. Are you ready to go now? Alice wants to do a final fitting of your dress, just in case she needs to make any changes.”

“It’s too bad Aunt Alice can’t see me in her visions. She could just decide to make any changes and then know which ones are right,” Nessie mused, then shook her head and bounded up from the couch, walking quickly down the hallway and into her bedroom. She came out a second later, hands deftly fastening a necklace on the nape of her neck. It was the necklace Rosalie had given her as a present for her birthday last year, a thin platinum chain and an oval pendant with the family crest on it. We filed out of the cottage, and Bella locked the door behind her.

The three of us walked together, Nessie in the middle. I asked her what books she was reading last night that she had gotten so little sleep. Instead of communicating verbally, she held my hand and showed me.

I started seeing her memories from only a few hours ago, implanted into my mind as seamlessly as though they were my own. I saw her reading all seven books of C.S. Lewis’ Chronicles of Narnia series and watching the first film adaptation. I saw how much she’d enjoyed them. Then, I saw her thoughts on the character Aslan, the wise talking lion and savior of Narnia. She admired him, his kindness and wisdom and compassion…. Suddenly, I saw my own face mixed in with images of the lion. She was trying to tell me the lion reminded her of me.

It shocked me. I’d enjoyed the world of Narnia at the time they were published and became widely popular in the 1950s, and even Bella had told me it was one of her favorite book series. As a lonely immortal, I’d always taken comfort in the fact that I had an Aslan-like figure in my life to look up to. My father, Carlisle. It never occurred to me to think that I could ever fill that role for someone else.

I must be doing something right, I marveled to myself. If Renesmee could liken me to someone who reminded me so much of Carlisle, then perhaps fatherhood wasn’t as lost on me as I had so often felt it was. It was like I was walking on a cloud, an invisible weight lifted off my shoulders. I wrapped my arm around Nessie as we walked, trying to let her know how much I appreciated the privilege of her sharing her thoughts with me. And then she surprised us by speaking in a serious tone.

She moved away from under my arm and moved a few paces ahead, turning around so she could face us. She walked backwards as she talked, her footing steady and sure. “Momma, Daddy, I don’t think I’ve thanked either of you yet… for allowing me to go and study on my own. I know you’ve always tried to let me have a normal childhood, to make sure I never missed out on anything. I love living with you guys. I love talking to Grandpa Carlisle about history and art. I love helping Grandma work on houses. I love shopping and appreciating fashion with Aunt Alice and Aunt Rose. I love playing chess with Uncle Jasper and Uncle Emmett. I love our piano lessons, Daddy, and our two-person exclusive book club, Momma. I love going back to Forks on holidays to visit Grandpa Charlie. I love our baseball games. But now I’m ready to experience the world for myself. I know it must be hard to let me go and that you’re scared for me. I’m scared, too….”

If my heart were still alive, it might have grown in size from the joy I felt. Renesmee rarely addressed us this way anymore. It was always Mom and Dad or Edward and Bella, if we were in public. It carried me back to the days when she was still just a little child. A rapidly growing, highly intelligent child, but still our little child. She was always so perceptive; it was as though she’d sensed the essence of the conversation Bella and I had had before we reached the cottage, and this sober declaration was her way of telling us she understood.

“You have nothing to thank us for, sweetheart,” I said quickly, at the same time that Bella hurried to ask Nessie what she was afraid of, concern in her voice.

Our daughter blew out a long breath. “I’m scared of living alone, of being completely responsible for myself. But I’m really excited about it, too, and most of the time the excitement overpowers any doubts I have. I’m certain I wanna do this, and don’t they always say that something isn’t worth doing if you’re not at least a little bit afraid?” she asked, her smile reaching her deep brown eyes.

Bella paused and left my side to grasp our daughter by the shoulders. “All we want, Nessie, all we will ever want, is your happiness. And we want you to find out what that means for you on your own terms. If you decide tomorrow that you’d be happy never going to college at all, none of us will argue with your decision. But I can see how sure you are about going. I can’t promise you that I won’t be worried sick and that I won’t be calling you multiple times a day until you’re very, very annoyed with me… But I know you can take care of yourself now, and I can’t wait to see what you do next, baby.” Bella’s lovely voice sounded assured, no trace of the anxiety she’d confided in me just moments earlier. This was what I meant whenever I told Bella she was a good mother, and seeing her in action never failed to earn my awe.

“Thank you, Momma,” Renesmee said sincerely, circling her arms around Bella, and Bella hugged her back. “And I promise I will never be annoyed by your calls, even if you call a hundred times a day,” she said, grinning. “I won’t ignore yours, either, Daddy.”

This made me and Bella laugh. Of course Nessie would make time to take her crazy parents’ calls. No one was sweeter than our daughter.

Their hug ended, and we kept walking. Suddenly there was a glint of mischief in Renesmee’s eyes, and then she touched my arm and Bella’s to tell us we were being challenged to a race. Before the thought was even fully communicated she had already taken off running to the house. I shook my head and chuckled as we hurried after her. She couldn’t quite run as fast as vampires, but the head start might be enough to guarantee her win.

When we reached the house, my brothers were waiting outside for us to arrive. They both had cameras in hand—Jasper a professional digital SLR and Emmett a Polaroid instant camera. With Bella around, I couldn’t hear their minds, so I raised an eyebrow at the both of them in question. What were they up to now?

“Nessie’s already in the house, you rusty old slowpokes,” Emmett said in greeting, mocking me and Bella. But mostly me. “And to think you used to be the fastest, Edward. What a fall from grace. Let me take a picture of this really embarrassing moment for you real quick.” He positioned the instant camera near my face and pressed a button, and it started whirring as it printed out the picture. He grinned and deposited it into a large red handbag, presumably Rosalie’s, that he had slung over his shoulder.

I rolled my eyes at my brother and asked what they were doing with the cameras instead of responding to Emmett’s attempts at vexing me. It was Jasper who answered. “We’re having a photography competition. Whoever contributes the most shots for Esme’s photo albums will win. She’s planning to keep one for us and one to send to Forks for Charlie, so we’ll need a lot of pictures.”

“Yeah, and the winner—who will definitely be me—gets to skip the bake sale that Esme is going to for some hospital fundraiser,” Emmett explained with an arrogant smile. I rolled my eyes again. Of course my brothers had found a way to turn this day into some kind of contest.

“Doesn’t the Polaroid give you a pretty significant disadvantage, Em?” I pointed out, wondering how much film he was lugging around in Rose’s handbag.

“Just because it’ll be more challenging doesn’t mean I can’t still win,” he replied, shrugging. “The pictures I take will be better. Plus, the easy way is overrated, don’t you think?”

Jasper shook his head at Emmett’s smugness, then told me and Bella to pose for a picture. I turned to Bella and she turned to me, and I held both of her hands. I smiled adoringly down at her as she stared back up at me with her deep, amber eyes. We weren’t looking at the cameras, but I heard the workings of the two small devices as my brothers captured the moment.

“Aww, you two are disgusting,” Emmett chuckled as Jasper showed the photograph to all of us on the camera’s tiny screen. “Esme’s going to love that one.” The Polaroid Emmett had taken was still developing, and he shoved it inside the red bag with all the others. Then they went inside to find better subjects for their contest.

Bella and I made our way inside as well. The house was alive with the whole family looking forward to tonight’s events. I heard Alice, Rosalie, and Nessie in Alice’s room, chattering and working away on their gowns. I heard Esme in the kitchen, making breakfast for Renesmee or perhaps practicing some recipes for the upcoming bake sale. I heard Jasper and Emmett running around everyone like a couple of paparazzi, taking pictures left and right. Only Carlisle was absent, hard at work at the hospital, but he’d be back in time to see us all off to prom tonight. Bella kissed my cheek in farewell before joining Nessie with her aunts upstairs.

I gravitated towards the piano, as I often did. I scanned the perfect mental repository of all the music I knew, trying out a few bars from different pieces—some my own compositions and some written by better musicians than I—but none of them spoke to me…. Until one did. I sat down and began playing the first notes of “Jupiter, the Bringer of Jollity” from Holst’s orchestral suite, The Planets. It was a piece that sounded abundantly better when played by a full orchestra, but I enjoyed it regardless. My hands glided quickly across the piano keys to produce the quick, jaunty chords of the exposition. Then the development came in ritardando, varying from the cheery main theme to take a strangely calm, nostalgic turn. Although it evoked feelings of nostalgia, it wasn’t sad. Only pensive about a time already past. The piece concluded a tempo, returning to the happy and powerful main theme. I didn’t realize how much the song reflected my mood until I was already finished playing it.

Knowing her thoughts were protected by Bella’s shield, Esme offered me her kind compliments out loud from the kitchen. “That was wonderful, Edward,” she gushed. “I have always been so fond of that piece. Please play some more, darling.” I murmured a thanks, then obliged my mother and started playing her favorite, the very song I had played for Bella the first time I brought her home to meet my family. Even though the memory was tainted by the agony and danger of the events that followed, I still looked back on it with some joy. That was the night Bella became a part of our family.

The day went on that way, calm and peaceful, everyone busy with their respective tasks. Nessie came down to join me once in the afternoon and let me hear a new composition she was working on. It was her best yet, and I told her as much. Bella came downstairs as well, listening to me play and rereading Persuasion by Jane Austen while she sat beside me on the piano bench.

Before long, it was time for us to get dressed and ready for the prom. I quickly changed into my dark brown suit. The color had been my only stipulation, the rest decided by Alice’s keen sense of fashion. Since that overcast Thursday morning—the day that had been my turn to ask questions—my favorite color had never wavered from brown. The chocolate-brown color of Bella’s human eyes was not just preserved fondly in my memories, but alive forever in Nessie, and it was beyond the bounds of possibility for me to separate such a color from the meaning of all my happiness.

After I was dressed, I tried to peek into Alice’s room to see if they were ready to go, but Alice, annoying as ever, blocked my entrance and told me to wait with Esme and Carlisle downstairs. I rolled my eyes but followed her instructions. Arguing with Alice was almost never worth it.

Carlisle was just arriving home from work right as I was coming down the stairs, and when he saw me, his eyes lit up. “Why, you look great, Edward,” he praised, setting his medical bag down on a table in the foyer. I thanked him humbly. He reached up and loosened his tie, likely more out of habit than out of a need to be more comfortable. It struck me as a very fatherly thing to do. Esme came out of the front room, greeting Carlisle with a bright smile and a quick kiss. “You’re home just in time, dear. I think the girls are almost done helping Nessie get ready.”

I snorted. At this rate, we were never going to leave the house in time. “Alice, we’ll be late!” I shouted in the direction of the stairs, knowing she could hear me perfectly.

“No, we won’t!” Alice chimed back confidently. I sighed.

Jasper and Emmett were already in their tuxedos and bounded quickly down the stairs, cameras still in hand. Rosalie was the one who joined us next, looking devastating in a burgundy mermaid dress. Emmett looked like he was about to combust. Jasper smirked at our brother’s dumbstruck expression, snapping a few pictures.

Then it was my turn to be dumbstruck as Bella started down the stairs, moving at full speed to be at my side in an instant. “Alice wouldn’t let me see Ness wearing her dress yet,” she complained, but all my attention was on her at that moment. She looked positively incredible wearing a knee-length, square-necked light azure dress, held up by thin straps with flutter sleeves and inset with a thousand little rhinestones that looked like stars. My wife could have been Selene herself, come down from the moon. I ran my fingers gently through Bella’s long, straight brown locks and pressed my palm to her cheek. And for the nth time in so many years, I was glad for the deal I’d made with Bella on our first wedding anniversary. “You look beautiful, love. Absolutely arresting,” I said honestly.

“I know,” Bella said, beaming up at me, and I laughed happily. This was our deal: whenever I told her the indisputable truth about how beautiful she looked, all she had to say in response was that she knew. In exchange, I was forbidden from spending money on gifts for her for exactly five years, and five years was such a short time for creatures such as we that the zero-gifts rule felt like it was lifted immediately. I circumvented the moratorium, anyway, by getting gifts that were for both Bella and Nessie, or both Bella and Esme…. It may not have been the fairest of contracts, but my intentions were of the purest kind. I leaned down and pulled my beautiful goddess of a wife into a deep kiss, and I felt her wide smile as her arms wrapped around my neck. We only broke away from each other when we heard Alice skipping down the stairs, dressed in a white two-piece cocktail dress that made her look like a mischievous fairy.

“Get ready, everyone!” Alice squealed, clapping her hands in anticipation. “I can’t wait to see your reactions, I know you’ll all just die.”

My sister was right. Renesmee—our only daughter, the greatest joy of our lives—stood at the top of the stairs in a gorgeous, peach pink off-shoulder gown decorated with the same little rhinestones that were on her mother’s dress and delicate leaf-patterned lace appliques, and she was a sight to die for. As she walked slowly down the stairs, one hand on the banister, Emmett and Jasper took pictures fervently, documenting the entire moment. I saw Bella press her hand to her chest, eyes soft and adoring.

“Well, how do I look?” Nessie asked when she reached the bottom of the stairs, a half-smile on her face. Her soft bronze hair fell in long, spiral waves down her shoulders, and on her neck, she still wore the necklace she’d put on this morning. She spun around in a circle, indulging the attention we lavished on her, understanding that today would not have been such a significant event for us if not for her. Esme made me, Bella, and Nessie pose for pictures by the staircase, then on the couch in the front room, and then outside on the porch. After Esme was satisfied with the pictures of the three of us, Jasper and Emmett set up a tripod and took a photo with all nine of us in the front room, our latest family portrait. When the photoshoot was done, we all filed into our vehicles to make our way to school. Bella and Nessie rode with me in the Volvo, and my siblings rode in Rosalie’s M3.

We made it to the high school just in time, and even from the car, I could already hear the booming electronic dance music and the excited prattle of hundreds of human children crowded around in the school gym. I prepared myself for the barrage of human thoughts I would have to hear tonight; the only people Bella would shield here were our family. Although Bella could shield a roomful of people from me easily, I still needed to be on the lookout for any suspicious minds when we were in public like this. The three of us met the rest of my siblings at the doors to the gym and joined the throng of high schoolers, looking like they were having the time of their lives. Little did they know how many lethal supernatural creatures had just descended upon this party. If they knew, maybe they wouldn’t be so happy.

“Are you ready for your first—but definitely not last—prom, Carlie?” Emmett asked my daughter, grinning. Nessie went by her middle name at school to be less conspicuous. At first, Bella was greatly displeased by the necessity of this precaution, but she couldn’t deny the rationale. We stood out more than enough being newcomers in a small town like this one, with our sheer number, our wealth, our beauty, and our semi-frequent ‘family trips’ to avoid the sun.

“Time to dance the night away!” Nessie said, grinning back at her uncle. She bounded away from us to meet a couple of her classmates, two girls who reminded me of Bella’s human friends, not physically, but in their manner and thoughts. Ness didn’t have many friends, and we had started to worry that her only interaction with other living beings was isolated to her family, but she rarely found her human classmates interesting, and when she did, it was because she genuinely had something in common with them.

The girl who was like Jessica, a brown-haired girl named Lindsay, shouted over the loud music at Nessie in greeting. “Oh my God, look how gorgeous you are!” Jesus, she looks like she belongs in some runway show right now. I wonder what designer this dress is by? Probably cost a million bucks…. I kind of hate her. Lindsay’s thoughts were petty and vitriolic, and I resisted the urge to march over there and shield my daughter from the bitter girl. That would have done more harm than good, so I settled for rolling my eyes and whispering in my wife’s ear about the girl’s thoughts. It was gossipy and ungentlemanly, but I had to share the burden of being powerless to protect Nessie from a fake friend.

“Oh, that girl is in my English class,” Bella said, looking unsurprised. “I knew she was mean, but I liked her Shakespeare essays. Nessie thinks she’s smart.” I scoffed and tuned in to the other girl’s thoughts—Annie, a girl with short, pink-dyed hair who made me think of Angela. She greeted Nessie with a hug, and thought, Wow, she looks like a princess. I should ask her to take a selfie with me! My mom will be super bummed if I don’t take a lot of pics tonight…. Annie pulled out a smartphone, and the three girls smiled as the little device flashed and snapped their ‘selfies.’ And then they ran to the dance floor together, jumping and laughing to the music.

I stayed with Bella in a darkened corner, and we watched Renesmee enjoying herself. Occasionally, one of my siblings would pull us away and make us dance to the upbeat music, but neither of us were particularly fond of the DJ’s infernal choices. The DJ, a baby-faced young boy called Drew who had Spanish class with me, exclusively played EDM and bastardized remix versions of classic love songs. By the ninth EDM song in a row, I finally put my proverbial foot down and crashed the DJ booth on stage to bribe him with a fifty dollar bill so he would play a song of my choosing. The boy was astonished and could barely say anything back to me, but as I walked through the crowd to reach Bella again, Johnny Ace’s “Pledging My Love” started blaring through the loudspeakers. I took Bella’s hand as we walked to the middle of the dance floor, and once we were there, I pulled her close to me and led us in a slow, intimate dance.

“This is the most romantic song I know,” Bella whispered, her head resting on my chest as we swayed slowly in a circle.

I chuckled. “Once upon a time, in a very old and decrepit truck, this song came on the radio and provided an apt soundtrack for the most romantic day of my life. Do you still remember that?”

Bella lifted her head from my chest and looked up at me, her eyebrows knitted together playfully. “My God, thirteen years and you’re still hating on the truck? I think you’ve got some issues to sort out there, honey,” she said, her beautiful lips turned up in a smirk. Then her face became more earnest. “But of course I remember. That was one of the best days of my life, too.”

Her amber eyes looked so full of love, so full of sincerity, that I felt like falling to my knees. As a mature vampire, more than a decade after her transformation, she should have no more than a few blurry recollections of her human life. But Bella felt so strongly about me, about the memories we’d made, that she vehemently held on to our past, even as each day, each minute, and each second brought us further away from it. I kissed her, always trying to let her know how precious she was to me. The song was nearly over, and I sighed. I could have stayed there dancing with her forever and never need anything more.

“Smile, please!” I heard Renesmee say, Emmett’s Polaroid camera in her hand. She snapped a photo of us. Then she turned the camera around, sandwiched herself between her mother and I, stuck her tongue out goofily, and pressed the button on the camera to take a picture again. Bella laughed.

“Where did your friends go?” Bella asked. “I was starting to think you guys would never get tired of dancing together.”

“Oh, they went back to their dates,” Nessie said nonchalantly. “So I decided to annoy Uncle Em by taking his camera.” A folky, lullaby-like acoustic song was now playing through the speakers.

“Oh—I love this song so much!” Nessie gasped. “Please dance with me, Dad?” She whispered the last word to keep any humans from hearing.

How could I refuse her? “Of course, sweetheart.”

Bella smiled and took the camera and the Polaroids from Nessie, saying something about finding Emmett and his big red bag. I led my daughter in a slow dance around the crowd, her hands resting on my shoulders.

“You and Mom looked amazing dancing together like that,” Nessie said casually, but by the look on her face, I could feel how serious the conversation was going to be. “I know the story, Dad. I know everything you went through before you could get here. And I am so happy that it worked out for you. Seeing how much you love Momma, how much she loves you… it makes me never wanna settle for anything less than that.”

My brows furrowed. “Is that why you said no to the boys who asked you to be their date tonight? Because you don’t love any of them?”

We kept swaying to the music, and Nessie chuckled. “Kind of. It’s true I said no because I don’t feel a connection to any of them, but also because I didn’t want tonight to be about some stranger hanging out around our family. I wanted it to just be us, so we could be ourselves.”

My heart swelled. Nessie always thought of our family first. That wasn’t her responsibility, and we would’ve been all too happy to pretend to be human and normal for any prom date of her choice, but she thought of us first. She was so like her mother in some ways.

“What did you mean, then? About never settling for anything less?” I asked. Something about the way she’d said it worried me, made me feel as though there were insecurities underneath her positive tone that needed to be addressed.

She took a deep breath. “I just… I realized that real love like I’ve seen with you and Mom, Grandma and Grandpa, Uncle Em and Aunt Rose, Uncle Jasper and Aunt Alice… it’s rare and it’s wonderful. And I think I would prefer waiting for a love where I could feel everything there is to feel rather than try to force something with anyone I’m not sure about. And I realize I could be waiting forever if I keep waiting for something perfect, but that’s the point, isn’t it? And I can’t imagine how I would ever find something like that. And that’s all right, I think.”

Renesmee’s words were full of conviction, and I started thinking about how, someday, the day would come when we would be dancing just like this—I would be in a tuxedo and she would be in a big white dress—at her wedding, for the father-daughter dance. Like her, I could not imagine yet the person she would marry, but I saw our family there. I saw Charlie desperately trying to ignore how our faces still remained unchanged. I saw Jacob, whom Renesmee considered her best friend, taking a break from managing his own auto repair shop to be there as her best man. It would be the happiest day of her life, just as how my wedding had been one of the happiest days of mine, and it saddened me that she couldn’t see herself finding that happiness one day. But I understood Nessie’s conclusions—or maybe more accurately, her fears—about not finding love. When I was still alone, I’d come to similar conclusions that the kind of happiness I saw in my family was simply not meant for me. Even when I’d found Bella, I always chose the saddest path, never daring to hope that I could have happiness with her forever.

“I admire your position about refusing to settle, Ness, because you deserve only the best. And I was just like you once. Before I found your mother, I never saw the point in pursuing relationships that I knew weren’t going to be meaningful. But you shouldn’t let yourself believe that you won’t find what you’re looking for.” I brushed a stray lock of curly bronze hair behind Nessie’s ear, hoping she could hear the honesty in what I was saying. “You know that for our kind, waiting through decades of being alone before finding who you’re meant for is more common than finding that right away….So please, don’t be so resigned. You are entirely too young to resign yourself to an eternity of being alone. It will work out, somehow,” I finished, echoing Esme’s confident words to Bella long ago when our relationship was at its very beginning.

Renesmee nodded, and I hoped my reassurances had lifted a little of the weight off her shoulders. I didn’t need to have Jasper’s gift for empathy to know that existing in both our world and the human world, not quite belonging in either, was a difficult thing to process. I didn’t know what the future held for my daughter—none of us did—but I looked forward to it with the same optimism my own parents had always had for me.

The acoustic ballad we were dancing to ended softly, and I escorted her away from the dance floor so we could rejoin our family.

“My feet kind of hurt,” Nessie complained as we found Bella sitting beside Rosalie on some folding chairs, but a smile was still bright on her face. She was having such fun tonight.

“Do you want to go home, baby?” Bella asked as Nessie dragged over another chair to sit down between Bella and Rose. Nessie rested her head on Rose’s shoulder, and Rose circled her arm around Nessie in a one-armed hug. “You’ve been dancing all night, I’m sure you’re tired.”

“Yeah, I think I wanna go home,” Ness said, sounding a little sleepy.

Suddenly, Lindsay and Annie appeared out of the crowd as an upbeat pop song started playing. “Carlie, come dance with us!” one of the human girls said.

Nessie perked up. “Wait, I love this song! Just one last!” she said enthusiastically, heading back to the dance floor with her friends. I shook my head, amazed at her energy. I sat down on the seat that Nessie had just vacated.

“We’re still a go for tomorrow, right, Rose?” I asked Rose discreetly. If the weather was safe enough for us to be out, we were going into the city tomorrow so Rose could help me pick out Nessie’s very first car. She learned how to drive when she was seven but always used the cars that belonged to the rest of the family. Now that she was going to college, she needed a vehicle to be able to get around on her own. Bella was coming with us, too, to be the voice of reason. Apparently, Rose was just as likely as I was to pick a car that Bella would deem—and this was her word—‘overkill.’ Rose only nodded in response, but I saw the corners of her mouth turn up a little.

We all watched as Nessie danced to one last song with her friends, and I could pick her lovely voice out of the babble of other noise as she sang along. “There’s a mountaintop that I’m dreamin’ of…. If you need me, you know where I’ll be!”

“She’ll call us constantly once she’s in college, right?” Bella asked me in an emotional whisper, looking at our daughter jumping up and down and singing with her friends. Since she became a vampire, I rarely thought of my wife as vulnerable anymore, but she looked vulnerable now. If our bodies were still capable of shedding tears, I wondered if she would be crying. Honestly, I realized I wanted to cry as well. Renesmee was ready to create her own life, and she needed us less and less every day. Years ago, I’d thought loving Bella was the greatest accomplishment of my life, the only good thing I would ever do. I’d thought that, after a hundred years of emptiness, loving Bella as thoroughly and as completely as I did was the strongest feeling I would ever experience. But Nessie—she proved those assumptions wrong, time and again. It was an honor to have raised her, and I knew Bella felt the same.

I held Bella’s hand and kissed her temple. “I’m sure she will, love. I’m sure she will.”

After a few moments, the song was over, and Nessie was saying her goodbyes to her friends. When she had made her way back to us, she cried, “My feet are killing me! Please never let me dance all night in heels ever again.”

Bella let out a short laugh. “It’s fine, baby. You can take off your shoes and your dad will carry you to the car.”

“Oh, bless!” she exclaimed. Bella laughed again. Nessie pulled off her heels, which Bella promptly carried for her, and our daughter let me lift her up in my arms. As we walked, Bella wrapped her arm around my waist. I glanced up at the night sky and saw the pale moon untrammeled by the usual gray clouds, bathing the high school parking lot in its ghostly light. It conjured up memories of a similar evening. Another prom night—Bella’s very first. I’d carried her in my arms just like this, and I remembered how desperate I’d been, how important it was for me that she did not miss her prom, in case her future children ever asked about it. I wanted to make sure she wouldn’t have an empty story for them because of me. And here we were, thirteen years later, with the miracle of our own child in my arms, Bella’s arm around me. Not even the sweetest of my dreams could compare to the reality we lived in now. I stared at Bella’s face, wondering if her thoughts had taken the same turn mine had. She pressed a hand to her throat, remembering how I’d kissed her there that night. We shared a secret smile.

When we reached the car, Bella opened the door to the backseat, and I sat Ness gently down in the middle, making sure her limbs were in comfortable positions. “Thanks, Dad,” she whispered, looking seconds away from succumbing to sleep. Bella got in beside her, and I sat in the driver’s seat to take us back home.

At moments like this, I still struggled to believe how I could have been given so much happiness, so much unadulterated joy that went beyond the ambit of anything I had ever dared to dream of for myself.

It felt like a reward I didn’t deserve. Maybe it was futile, looking for reasons when I knew I would get no answers. But in all my musings, the only conclusion I came to that made any kind of sense was that… it was because of Bella.

Because of Bella and her goodness, that rare kindness I saw only in her—she was why I was allowed all this happiness. And I was just the fool lucky enough to be in the range of her shining sun. Lucky enough to love her and be loved by her.

How could I ever tell her how grateful I was? Grateful that she could always see past the worst of me and my mistakes. Grateful that she had unlimited selflessness, giving us the family I’d envisioned for her, but thought impossible for me. Grateful that she was all too happy to be the first and only love of my existence. Grateful that cruel fate, after our various ordeals, had turned merciful to bring us to this heaven.

I looked back at them again, Nessie now sleeping soundly on Bella’s lap, and Bella absentmindedly twining her fingers through the mess of bronze curls fanned out on the soft fabric of her dress. “She’s dreaming,” Bella whispered. I could see Nessie’s hand on Bella’s arm, inadvertently letting Bella see the pictures she was swimming through in the land of her dreams.

I was sure that no words in any of the languages I knew could ever sufficiently reveal the feelings of peace and contentment that I felt, staring at them, the two halves of my heart, at ease in the backseat.

Bella caught me looking then, her golden eyes piercing through mine in the rearview mirror. She smiled, lowered her shields, and allowed me to hear one thought: I love you.

“I love you, too, Bella,” I whispered. I willed the past and the future that stretched out infinitely before us to give those words weight, seeming too simple and inadequate to convey the depth of what I felt.

No, I didn’t have the words that could tell Bella how grateful I was for her. For Renesmee. For our family. Perhaps I never would…. But that was fine. I had the rest of forever to try and find the words. Forever and forever and forever. I smiled and felt lighter than if my heart were not made of stone, and sped up the car to take us faster towards home.

[isabeladraws]

harrington fam doodles 🌿🌟🌻 big headcanon dump below | ko-fi

jett phoenix harrington, air & metal att

thief player and very good at it (becomes captain eventually)

not so academic but get's good enough grades (beckett still pushes him a lot)

 loves to travel (one year he suddenly hates it)

 him and selene are T R O U B L E M A K E R S

 mischevious and playful

 knows the deans office like the palm of his hand

 popular at school

 takes every opportunity to show off like his mom

 sunday's clumsy twin

 cry baby

 runs hot and biggest cuddler

 loves animals. he would always bring an injured animal home to nurse them back to health

 sporty and energetic, can't sit still for very long

 kind and open minded

 has sunday’s chaoticness with none of becketts caution lol

 wears his heart on his sleave

 beckett was the only one that could calm him as a baby

he starts to thrive academically at penderghast after picking his major (there was a lot of comotion surrounding this because beckett wanted him to choose the right path and be involved but the friction in their relationship made it seem beckett was disappointed and frustrated with jett instead)

selene maeve harrington, air & wood att

daddy's girl tm

can do no wrong in becketts eyes

very good at school with not much effort

teachers love her. sunday taught her all the tricks

 her favorite subject is natural studies, anything with herbology and potions

butterflies are her motif

 veeeery michisvious and is never caught. atlas taught her a few tricks to get past professors/beckett (she cant fool sunday though)

 appears to be unapproachable but is very loving

 atlas is her favorite person

 loves to garden & animals (bugs especially)

 bff with shreya's daughter (shreya and atlas may or may not be married in my headcanon)

she likes to travel and meet new people/species

 keeps a journal that is spelled to leave you smelling like farts for 48h if you (jett) try to read it

 has sunday's chaoticness with becketts caution/awareness

 morning person, loves to watch the sunrise

 loveees to dance and beckett is more than eager to be her teacher and dance partner

 has beckett's snobby/expensive taste

 pro at skiing

 she hates how often dad pulls out his philosophy major card to scold them for using their powers on each other (they all do tbh)

 she names her plants

very curious bub

marlow archie harrington, water & metal att

the baby tm

a bit of a wallflower compared to his siblings

beckett sees a lot of himself in marlow

loovees water related books

enjoys being near the water a lot

has very specific interests, like we'll just spit out random facts at the dinner table and beck and sunday look at each other like ?? 

he takes long ass baths (very particular with his bath bombs too)

he can be a bit blunt and rude if he's flustered and with strangers

atlas taught him how to breathe underwater and he spends a lot of time exploring

the merpeople love him, he brings them snacks

mister know it all, the smarty pants

beckett doesn't seem to be as hard on him as he is with jett

lowkey hates to travel

he enjoys routine and being in familiar places

observant and forgetful

big video game fan

he's better at metal than jett but jett has a better grasp of other attunements than he does 

loves to sleep with his parents and it was a habit hard to kill

asked for a fish tank for xmas but felt bad for the fish so he released them in the middle of the night

he's the one that figures out the triplets together can make sun magick

sunday & beckett's grocery shopping buddy

loves to cook

vegetarian

he doesn’t have freckles like his siblings, just a bunch of moles

sunday & beckett as parents 

not sure what their jobs would be (i would love to hear your thoughts on magickal jobs?) beckett maybe would have a job that he could do anywhere since his major is magick philosophy? sunday i think could go on to do thief professionally for a while but quits after getting pregnant. i don't think she'd want to go back afterwards. i wish we had more info what could be done post uni or an idea of the majors we could take. i could see both of them teaching later in life though. 

in my mind, they travel aaaaa lottt. like maybe twice a year would be least they travel. sunday wants to see the attunned world and beckett is more than happy to give her that. they both love exploring and gives them opportunity to be espontaneous and nerdy at the same time. beckett loves teaching sunday about things he always knew growing up but she's only now discovering. it started when sunday was asked to join a pro thief team and beckett was studying away for his masters. they'd take mini trips almost every 2 months to escape their lives and have these unforgetable memories. they got the bug and never stopped since. 

sunday after getting pregnant - which i think they were parents quite young at 25 - she wants to stay with her kids, beckett too, and they both find this need to be home all the time. they want to be there 24/7 and not leave the kids with nannies or babysitters. do not get me wrong, they ask the pend pals and the family to watch them frequently for sanity and date nights. beckett officially went back to work after 1 year of staying home, he started working properly after 8 months of the triplets being born though. sunday didn't mind being at home with them. she found motherhood to be the greatest code she could ever crack. 

around 6 months of the babies being born, beckett and sunday tried to travel for a few days to a nearby lake town. there, they discovered marlow's affinity to water. they had a hunch, the kid loved bath time but being in untamed water sparked something in him. after that, they decided to keep travelling, to take their kids exploring. they went on a trip almost every 2 months after that. beckett went back to work and it was time to adjust a little and slow down.

sunday became an avid photographer. they had filled out 3 albums in a year. "they grow so fast!!" she would say when beckett made fun of her after pulling out the camera.

as you can tell, they travel a lot. after the kids get a big bigger, they try to stay places a bit longer, so they can really explore. they do settle when the kids reach school-age, but keep travelling during weekends, school breaks, etc. i think they'd make big moves every 3 years, until officially settling in in their forever home, before the kids join penderghast. (this could change, depending on their jobs. but yeah u get the gist)

sunday cant cook for shit when she becomes a mom. beckett is much better at that. she becomes better bc she cant lose to her husband, of course. the kids will say they prefer her food now over his.

WHEN DO THEY GET MARRIED? who knows folks jdsngk (secretly eloping after graduating penderghast?)

surprisingly, sunday is the one with an iron fist. she sets rules like cleaning up, curfew, no using their powers to hit or fight each other, etc and she’s the one the kids don't want to defy the most. beckett gets annoyed easily but settles down fast and lets them go do everything in the end. sunday doesn't disapprove of them exploring and doing kid stuff but she has a bit of fear given what atlas has been through.

sunday is the ultimate soccer mom. the kid's biggest cheerleader

beckett teaches the kids yoga super early, marlow and selene find it very relaxing

beckett makes the triplets wear penderghast's uniform

sunday packs them regular clothes so they can wear wtv they want when they aren’t visiting (beckett made a surprise visit once so now they have a backup uniform in their bags at all times)

every sunday of the month is tuneless food day. (get it) they usually also make trips to tuneless cities during weekends to get even more in the mood.

sunday and beckett collect postcards from wherever they go. they have a big wall full of mementos and family photos.

(i haven't decided on familiars for the kids and i kinda want a new type for selene *coughs* butterfly *coughs*)

sunday starts some homeschooling with the kids. being attuned to every element has its perks and she enjoys teaching them spells. they’re quite advanced for kids their age, magick wise

[cicada-bones]

The Warrior and the Embers

Chapter 22: Burnout

Masterlist / Ao3 / Previous Chapter / Next Chapter

The following week was filled with preparations for Beltane, a night of fire and food and dancing. A night practically made for the wild princess.

Spring would soon begin to wane, the rains washing away and giving over to the wild blossoms and bounty of summer. Beltane was a celebration of this change, where all came together to honor the fire goddess, and to pray for a prosperous harvest.

Fae across the world would be laying out offerings to the Little Folk, decorating hawthorn bushes, raising maypoles, and preparing feasts. In the evening, small fires would be ignited to allow a few brave souls to jump across. It was said jumping would bring luck, and ensure a good crop or a healthy birth. Fae used it to pray to the gods for whatever they desired most, and sometimes, the gods would listen. Of course most of the time, they stayed infuriatingly silent.

Rowan had never put much stock in the idea, though Lyria had always loved the celebrations, and he had tolerated them for her sake. Not that she spent much time leaping over fires. The pair of them had usually spent the time eating and listening to music, or dancing barefoot in the grass, their fingers entwined, feet clumsy and awkward, as far from the flames as they could get. Lyria didn’t love Beltane for its fires: she loved the holiday for what it meant – the end of the relentless mountain snows and the return of the flowers in her garden.

Rowan almost flinched. It had been a long time since he had thought of that garden, since he could remember its wild expanse without the pain forcing the images away. But now he could see every lovely petal, every tenacious weed, and instead of Lyria’s screams echoing in his mind, he could almost sense her presence on his skin, almost hear her soft laugh. And though the sound unearthed an ache deep in his chest, it was not unbearable.

After her death, Rowan avoided Beltane – or any celebration, really – instead spending the time holed up and trying to forget, usually by drowning himself in alcohol. On nights like this, where so many were turning to the comfort of their partners, it was so much harder to forget that he was alone, to forget what he had lost.

Though recently, it had gotten much easier to do so. So much so that he could now even think of Lyria, could remember his time with her, without completely falling apart. Usually, she was a small hole at the back of his mind, always there – but most of the time he could get through the day without having to acknowledge it. Now, Rowan could go whole days without thinking of her, entire hours where his forgetfulness wasn’t forced, but easy. Natural.

Rowan didn’t want to think too hard about the cause of that new ease.

Aelin had spent the past few days practicing harder than Rowan had yet seen. She was throwing herself into the work, and slowly but surely, she was improving. Even if Emrys was keeping Aelin back later and later each day to help prepare the Beltane feast, making her later and later each morning.

Not that the princess was complaining – Rowan caught her sneaking extra food off of overloaded plates at least half a dozen times. The magic he had her performing was exhausting, so he didn’t really blame her. Particularly as it meant that he no longer had to haul quite so much food up the mountain to help sustain her while they practiced. It was the little things.

Aelin was improving, but not as fast as she could be. She was still far from ready to go to Doranelle, and though she had mastered her shift, those iron bars limiting her power had not shifted one inch, and she still struggled to access her magic around them. Aelin worked best under some kind of pressure, when others were dependent upon her self-control.

Beltane was a celebration of fire, and Aelin was its Heir. Perhaps Rowan could figure out a safer way to use the princess’ drive to keep others safe while learning to control her power.

···

Twilight was starting to fall over the Cambrian mountains, painting the mists golden once again. Rowan and Aelin were standing together on a mountain plateau, a mile or so above Mistward. Various Fae wandered about, setting up tables for the feast, bringing in kindling from the surrounding woods, or just mulling about, waiting for the celebrations to begin. A few were giggling and practicing dances, while a couple of musicians were placing instruments along the forest edge, preparing to play.

Over the past few days, dozens of other demi-Fae had arrived from neighboring outposts to join in their celebrations, and most of them seemed familiar with many of the residents of Mistward. Rowan recognized a few of them, mostly healers from the compound. Even Namonora had come to Mistward to celebrate.

The newcomers were all friendly, and they greeted each other with much embracing and well-natured teasing. Normally, Rowan would be unaffected by the increased attendance, as he was usually feared and avoided by other Fae. But Aelin wasn’t, and the attention she was attracting grated on him.

Rowan had caught many of the visiting males throwing glances her way, their faces open and inviting. However, they always reconsidered when they noticed Rowan standing at her side, their scents shifting from inviting to reluctant.

Perhaps if the males had known that Rowan was her teacher, they would have been less hesitant to approach the princess. But Rowan didn’t have room to feel guilty for not enlightening them to that fact – he was too busy feeling grumpy and protective and irritable. Not that he would blame Aelin for going off and pursuing some wide-eyed male. She deserved whatever pleasure she could get her hands on.

Even if he wasn’t so sure that Aelin felt the same way about him. The previous night, Aelin had actually growled at another female in the kitchens at dinner who had been looking at him with interest, and had stepped forwards as if to say hello.

Rowan wanted to be irritated at the princess for her intrusion, but he couldn’t help but be a tiny bit pleased – the deep, territorial, and entirely male part of himself secretly satisfied by it. Pleased that she had staked some small claim to him, even if it was only as a companion, or a friend.

Not that that word came easy to him. Friend. Rowan hadn’t had a person to call a friend in over 200 years – his fellow warriors didn’t really count. Not even Gavriel, even if Rowan had occasionally thought of him as one. They were all blood-bonded, connected by a lust for power and purpose, and nothing more. It wasn’t a foundation for deeper relationships to form.

And yet here Aelin was, his equal, his mirror and…his friend. Regardless of all obstacles.

Aelin had not feared him once after their initial meeting, hadn’t once flinched from him, no matter how much shit he’d flung at her. And it was starting to affect him, to change him. No matter how he tried to deny it. His conversation with Namonora had begun to open his eyes, but it wasn’t until last night that he’d really noticed.

Rowan’s scent had changed. It had lost its abrasiveness, was no longer so hostile. Just as Aelin’s had. And the demi-Fae females at the fortress had begun to notice.

Rowan didn’t really know how to feel about that.

Aelin munched on an apple a few feet behind him, the loud crunch breaking him from his thoughts. They were standing in front of three unlit fires. The central pyre was a massive pile of wood, stacked up high enough to brush the stars, but the two at its sides were much smaller – perfect for jumping. And all three of which would be Aelin’s responsibility through the night.

“I assume you brought me here so I could practice?” Aelin chucked the apple core across the field, rubbing at a sore shoulder and frowning.

Rowan gestured towards the piles of firewood. “Ignite them, and keep the fires controlled and even all night.”

“All three.” Aelin’s voice was flat, colored by a familiar irritation.

“Keep the end ones low for the jumpers. The middle one should be scorching the clouds.”

Aelin pursed her lips, anxiety filling her scent. “This could easily turn lethal.”

Rowan lifted a hand, stirring the winds around the princess just enough to ruffle her clothes and tousle her golden hair. “I’ll be here,” he said simply.

“And if I somehow still manage to turn someone into a living torch?”

“Then it’s a good thing the healers are also here to celebrate.”

She gave him a dirty look, but seemed to accept her instructions, turning towards the unlit pyres and rolling her shoulders. “When do you want to start?”

“Now.”

···

Aelin was doing well, very well in fact. Though that didn’t much settle Rowan’s nerves. Each time another oblivious demi-Fae leaped over one of the jumping-fires, heedless of the danger they were placing themselves in, Rowan could feel his whole body tense.

Not that Aelin much appreciated his anxiety. Every time he murmured for her to be careful, or to keep steady, she all but snarled at him. So Rowan did his best to keep his eyes forwards, out towards the field full of demi-Fae and away from the princess who was steadily burning at his side.

The Beltane celebrations of his childhood in Doranelle had been rigid, formal affairs. Queen Maeve hosted a banquet, which she rarely attended for more than a few minutes, and his mother always shoved him into his stiffest, most uncomfortable tunic with strict orders not to spill anything on it. There was dancing, but it was always restricted to the strict, formal movements of the traditional dances.

When he was younger, his parents had forced him to pair off with other young females to dance, and he’d despised it. It wasn’t the dancing that he hated – his family had put him in lessons, so he knew all of the movements. It was more the awkward, stilted conversation, the obligatory etiquette and proper manners that he chafed against. And it had only gotten worse as he grew older.

By the time he reached his second and third decades, Rowan’s parents were gone, and he was living in his uncle Ellys’ house alongside his many cousins, including Endymion and Sellene. Ellys had raised him well, had even given him his first lessons in swordplay. But he had been strict, and avoiding formal events had been out of the question.

So once Rowan was free of his uncle’s influence, he had avoided official celebrations and their fraught conversation as often as possible. But here, among the demi-Fae, things were different.

The dancing was much more lively, the clothing looser and more comfortable – made for spinning and whirling in the firelight. The food was less decadent, and far more delicious. Emrys’ feast had been made with love and care, and not impressing the various lords and ladies, in mind.

But most of all was the feeling of freedom and joy and excitement that overwhelmed the open space. Everyone’s scents overlapped into a cacophony of warmth and spice and vibrance. Here, people ate what they wanted, laughed when they wanted, danced how they wanted to, and even went off into the bushes together without anyone staring daggers at them.

The smell was intense, and with Aelin standing just feet away, it was almost overwhelming. Her flames and magic and the heat of her body reached out to caress him, pulling the memory of the taste of her blood to the forefront of his mind. Lemon and jasmine and fire, all wrapped up in the taste of desire that had flooded the whole of the clearing.

And the music. It was beyond words.

Violins and flutes and drums and harps and horns, weaving together a blanket of sound that swathed the whole of the field – the whole of the world. And while the music was all ancient songs that had been played in Doranelle for millennia – by the demi-Fae musicians, the sound had some other richness, some deeper emotion Rowan hadn’t heard before.

He thought that Aelin might have been just as moved by the beautiful melody, her flames seeming to twist in time with the music, the vibrant colors blinking and flashing in the starlight.

And what colors they were; rubies and citrines and tigereyes and the deepest sapphires. Over the past few weeks, the flames she conjured had shifted, becoming richer and more varied – a symphony in and of itself. More beautiful than any sunset.

Nearby demi-Fae marveled at the gorgeous fires, obviously wondering at how they burned so brightly and yet didn’t consume the wood they rested on. A few wandering eyes took note of Rowan and Aelin standing quietly in the shadows at the edge of the clearing, but Rowan didn’t think any of the watchers made the connection between the magic flames and the fire-wielder at his side.

As the night wore on, Aelin grew more and more exhausted, drained by the sustained use of magic. But the well of fire within her did not lessen. It burned on, endlessly ravenous.

Yet still, those iron bars did not burn away. Aelin’s wildfire felt strong enough to consume the entirety of Erilea, but the prison in her mind was impervious to that strength, and held fast. Once again, the image of Aelin chained up in a darkened dungeon, her child’s face twisted in anger and pain, flashed before his eyes.

Rowan’s jaw tightened. He would do anything to free her from those bars. To see the Heir of Fire unleashed at last.

Aelin shifted on her feet slightly, her face contorting in discomfort.

“Easy,” Rowan said as her flames danced a bit higher.

“I know,” Aelin spat through her teeth.

Rowan frowned. He was certain he was in control, and ready to intervene if it proved necessary. Even if he wasn’t stronger than Aelin’s flames, Rowan was confident that he was stubborn enough to repress the wildfire if it slipped Aelin’s control. But still, he only barely contained a flinch as a female took a wild leap over the leftmost pyre, giggling as she went.

Aelin shifted again, the middle bonfire twisting and arching with her as she stretched, mirroring her movements, a rippling golden reflection. “When can I stop?”

“When I say so.”

“I’m sweating to death, I’m starving, and I want a break.”

“Resorting to whining?” Rowan wanted to roll his eyes, but he was being baked alive, his linen shirt soaked with sweat and the leather blazingly hot, shrinking and tightening in the blistering heat. And the princess was far from better off; Rowan could see her limbs glistening with sweat, her clothes damp and wrinkled, face cherry-red.  

Rowan sent a cooling breeze in her direction, wrapping his ice around her burning form. Aelin’s muscles relaxed and she closed her eyes, moaning softly.

Rowan became very still, desire pooling in his stomach as her scent and the taste of her blood wrapped around him, neatly wiping his mind clean of everything but the feel of her heat beside him.

He forcibly wrenched his thoughts away, thinking of something, anything other than how much he wanted to walk over to her and –

No.

After a few moments, Rowan cleared his throat and managed to say, “Just a little while longer.”

Aelin visibly sagged in relief, and a few more silent minutes passed. Rowan could feel Aelin’s thoughts drift, her gaze shifting over to the piles of food stacked on the tables across the field. Her stomach grumbled aggressively, and Rowan felt an ounce of guilt pass through him. He would give it a few more minutes, and then they could stop for the night.

Aelin began tapping her foot, her head bobbing and swaying along with the music. Her flames began to follow suit, whirling and swishing with every twitch of her fingers. They leaped higher once again, and Rowan tensed.

“Easy,” Rowan said, but then it clicked. “Music. That day on the ice, you were humming.”

Aelin nodded, beginning to hum along with the instruments. A bead of sweat trickled down her face, and Rowan sent another cool breeze her way, though this time she was burning so hotly that the air warmed almost immediately, and didn’t seem to help.

“Let the music steady you,” Rowan said, but Aelin didn’t respond. Her eyes were glued to the flames, and they were surprisingly blank, though their golden core was molten and bright.

Rowan’s brow furrowed, anxiety trickling through him. Aelin’s flames roiled and undulated with the melody, the colors deepening to rich blues and bright whites as the temperature increased.

“Easy…” Rowan said again, but Aelin didn’t seem to hear. It was almost as though she was in some kind of trance, her thoughts pulled into the depths of the writhing flames.

“Steady.” Rowan’s voice had shifted from calming to tight and insistent. But still, she did not move, her gaze utterly fixed upon the three smokeless fires now bursting with power and life and intensity.

Rowan took a step closer to her, all of his attention utterly fixed on the fire-wielder. Her power writhed and strained against her mental cage, aching for freedom. And though the pressure of the power was surely extraordinarily painful, Aelin didn’t even twitch, her scent clean and as empty as death.

Terror flooded Rowan. “That’s enough for now,” he said, grabbing her arm in an attempt to get her attention. But it burned him, and he hissed and let go. “That is enough.”

Rowan didn’t know how, but Aelin was burning out. Right before his eyes.

He had been worried about Aelin accidentally losing control and hurting other Fae, he didn’t realize that he should have also been worried about her roasting herself from the inside out.

She turned to look at him, slowly, reluctantly. And her eyes were even emptier than he had thought. She turned back to the flames, the gold around her pupils burning even brighter than Rowan had yet seen.

“Look at me,” Rowan said desperately. He wanted to reach out and touch her, but he couldn’t when she was burning so hotly. “Look at me.”

She didn’t move. “Let the fires burn on their own,” he ordered, his voice filled with fear. Finally, she turned back to face him, her scent filling with a dull, confused pain. His nostrils flared. “Aelin, stop right now.”

She was completely still, agony pulsing through her scent and tensing all of her muscles. “Let go.”

He reached out to touch her, but stopped himself when he felt the heat radiating from her body in waves. The bonfires were starting to climb, and the demi-Fae around them started to back away, murmuring in worry and confusion.

But Rowan didn’t pay them any heed. “If you don’t let go, you are going to burn out completely.” But Aelin still didn’t shift one inch. Rowan snarled, “You are on the verge of roasting yourself from the inside out.”

Aelin blinked once, then her eyes widened as her wildfire filled her up, and agony radiated from her in waves. The iron cage did not break, and instead of melting the bars, Aelin set her fire free in the prison of her own body.

The three bonfires surged, racing up to melt the stars as Aelin fell onto the grass, groaning in pain. Demi-Fae yelled, the music faltered, and Rowan stilled as the killing calm iced over his limbs.

“I’m sorry,” Rowan hissed, swearing viciously as he ripped the air from her lungs. He waited only an instant for the fires to fall and the magic to be torn away before returning her breath to her.

“Breathe. Breathe.” Rowan begged as Aelin gasped raggedly, her spine arching as her power settled uncomfortably back in its cage, its connection to the world broken. But the wildfire still coursed through her body, boiling her blood and roasting her skin.

And Rowan was running, leaving Aelin lying on the ground, where she was shaking with tearless, panicked sobs. He sprinted over to the eastern edge of the field, where he could see Namonora and another female chatting casually.

At the sight of his panicked expression, Namonora instantly shifted, her face becoming severe. “What is it?”

Rowan didn’t have time for explanations. “Come,” he said, turning back to return to the princess who might have already succumbed to the fire, return to the spark that might have finally burned out.

Thankfully, they followed him without question, and when they reached Aelin, she was still writhing on the ground.

Still alive. Rowan had to hold in a sigh of relief.

Namonora’s assessment was quick and efficient. “Can you stand to carry her? There aren’t any water-wielders here, and we need to get her into cold water. Now.”

Rowan gritted his teeth, and then gingerly stretched out his arms to cradle the princess, shutting out the pain as her skin met his, her fire reaching through his clothes and scorching his flesh. Rowan held Aelin as far from his body as he could, sprinting through the forest and back down the mountain towards the fortress, his heart beating rapidly in his chest.

He tried to wrap her in his ice-kissed wind, enveloping her burning body in freezing air. But it didn’t work. Rowan wasn’t able to pierce through the heat she was emanating.

He pumped his legs still faster, hurtling through the underbrush as Aelin’s scent weakened and twisted and frayed, her grip on consciousness fading under the weight of the agony pulsing through her.

Rowan tightened his grip on the princess, unwilling to let her fade. Unwilling to let her die.

After some unknowable, endless stretch of time, the fortress came into view, and Rowan tore through the wyrd-stones, over the gate, past the courtyard, down the stairs and towards the bathing room.

“Get her into the water.”

Rowan lowered her gingerly into the sunken stone tub, but before her skin even brushed the surface, the water began to billow with steam. Rowan swore.

“Freeze it, Prince,” Namonora commanded. “Now.”

Rowan sent all of his power towards the female in the basin before him, a vast surge of ice and wind, and the water immediately froze solid. But then –

“Get her out!” Namonora shouted, and Rowan reached in and snatched Aelin from the now-boiling water, the skin on his hands beginning to blister. She had nearly boiled herself alive.

Rowan lifted her up and placed her in another tub, kneeling at its head while the two healers hovered somewhere to his side. This time, he had to be more careful with his use of magic. So instead of a quick wave, Rowan focused on gathering a steady, forceful pressure.

The ice formed again, and then began to melt. “Breathe,” Rowan said into her ear. “Let it go – let it get out of you.” Steam began to rise once again, but then Aelin took one small, shaky breath, and it dissipated slightly. “Good,” Rowan panted with the effort of fighting against the wild, uncontrolled force of Aelin’s magic.

Ice formed again, and then melted. Aelin took another steadying breath, her eyes closing as she focused on calming her panicked body.

Rowan began to sweat in earnest, the perspiration trickling over his ruined skin and stinging, salt in an open wound. While his magic was so strained, the burns couldn’t heal by themselves. But the small ache was nothing in the face of the terror currently coursing through him.

The water froze and melted in a steady pattern, like the movement of a pendulum, or breath in a pair of lungs. In and out, in and out. Frozen, then melted. Fire, then ice. The ebb and flow of the tide, pushing and pulling.

Aelin’s uncontrolled flames slammed against his steel will, over and over and over again, until the pendulum began to slow, the breaths evening out until finally, they stopped.

The water stilled, settling into a comfortable warmth while Aelin’s scent relaxed from the sharp, agonized copper tang to a dull ache. Rowan felt his own limbs begin to relax, the lack of tension leaving him feeling hollow, and heavy.

“We need to get those clothes off her,” Namonora said, and Rowan moved out of their way while the two healers leaned over the tub, carefully easing up Aelin’s head and peeling off her sodden clothes.

There was a moment of quiet while Namonora silently assessed Aelin’s condition, her eyes expertly flicking over her still form, cataloguing every detail. Aelin just lay there, eyes closed, her skin dangerously pale and her face flushed with fever.

Namonora looked at Rowan expectantly, silently asking him to speak.

Rowan kept his voice calm and soft. “Just answer yes or no. That’s all you have to do.”

Aelin nodded stiffly, grimacing in pain. Her eyes were still closed.

“Are you in danger of flaring up again?”

“No,” she responded, barely a whisper through her lips.

“Are you in pain?”

“Yes.” Another breath of sound, punctuated with a flare of discomfort in her scent.

Rowan clenched his jaw, looking pointedly at Namonora.

The old healer nodded at him. “We will prepare a tonic. Just keep her cool.” And they both trod into the hallway, heading for the kitchens, the door shutting softly behind them.

Rowan reached over for a bucket of water and handful of washcloths lying on the floor beside him. He dipped the cloths into the water, and brought the temperature as close to freezing as he could without it turning solid and useless, then laid a cloth on Aelin’s forehead. She sighed in relief, her tight expression softening.

Rowan soaked the other cloth in the bucket, and began wringing it over her head and neck. “The burnout,” he said quietly. “You should have told me you were at your limit.”

Aelin opened her eyes a millimeter, but didn’t say anything. He wrung more water over her brow.

“If you’d gone on any longer, the burnout would have destroyed you. You must learn to recognize the signs – and how to pull back before it’s too late.” The anxiety in his voice gave way to command. “It will rip you apart inside. Make this…” he shook his head. “Make this look like nothing. You don’t touch your magic until you’ve rested for a while. Understand?”

Aelin only raised her chin, her expression pleading, a silent request for more of the icy water. But Rowan just held the cloth tantalizingly above her, refusing to wring it until she nodded her agreement.

A few more silent minutes passed, Rowan slowly cooling the princess’ heat. But the pain in her scent refused to fade, and Namonora still did not appear. The more time that passed without the arrival of the tonic, the higher Rowan’s irritation grew. And soon, he was flinging the cloth in the bucket and standing up to leave, deciding that Aelin was cool enough to survive without him for a few moments, and her need for the painkillers was now greater than her need for temperature-control.

“I’m going to check on the tonic. I’ll be back soon.”

She nodded faintly, and Rowan left, the door clicking shut behind him.

He strode directly over to the kitchens, his booted feet slamming into the stones and echoing loudly through the halls. Rowan didn’t think he’d ever cared less.

He found Namonora stirring various strong-smelling plants in a cauldron over a fire, the other healer efficiently dicing several other herbs, readying them to be mixed into the pot with the others. When Rowan entered, Namonora instantly dropped what she was doing and gestured for the other female to take over, then strode over to him, her expression determined.

“I know you’re going to want to protest, but I do not care. You need those burns treated, or they absolutely will get infected.” Namonora grabbed Rowan’s shoulder and pulled him over to the counter, where white bandaging had already been laid out. Rowan opened his mouth to object, but Namonora interrupted. “Do not argue with me, Rowan Whitethorn. I’m not about to change my mind, and you protesting will only make this take longer.”

Rowan clenched his jaw, and seriously considered retaliation, but at the steel in the healer’s eyes, he relented, and began to strip off his ruined clothing. Namonora’s lips pinched in victory.

Rowan winced, groaning in pain as the cotton pulled at the tender flesh of his chest and arms. Namonora clicked her tongue and raising a mortar and pestle filled with a sweet-smelling poultice.

“That might have been the strangest almost-burnout I have ever seen,” she said, dabbing the saccharine mixture on the welts covering his left arm. It smelled of eucalyptus and ginger and strawberries.

“I’m not sure it was a burnout,” Rowan sighed.

Namonora tilted her head, a silent question. She moved to the other arm.

Rowan shook his head. “I don’t know. But her power wasn’t depleted – it was more like she…set it free. Within her own body.”

“A suicide attempt?” the other female asked politely.

Rowan flinched, and Namonora’s clever eyes narrowed, taking note. “No,” he finally replied, “She just lost control.”

“Hmm.” Namonora muttered, smearing the last of the poultice over his bare chest. “The block.”

“Yes,” Rowan agreed, nodding ruefully.

“So there has been no more progress since I last saw you?”

“No.” Rowan’s voice was curt.

Namonora began wrapping the clean white linen around his arms, seeming to be mulling something over, hesitating. “As I said before, she may never overcome it.” The healer’s eyes tentatively flicked over Rowan’s face. His expression was carefully impassive. “These things are far more emotional than they are physical. And if she does not find a way to confront whatever trauma lies in her past, she may always have this block. Instead of focusing on getting rid of it, maybe she could focus her attention on finding ways to cope with it, to work around it.”

Rowan just nodded tersely, his face blank and hard. Namonora finished bandaging his chest, and nodded slowly, giving him her permission to leave. “We will be in with the tonic in another few minutes,” she said, and turned back to the fire. Rowan carefully pulled his shirt back on over the bandages, and strode from the room without another word.

But not before overhearing a final comment from the healers, their words gliding over to him through the open doorway.

“So that was Rowan Whitethorn,” the other female said plainly.

“And the Princess of Terrasen.” Namonora responded.

“Are they together?”

“I don’t know. But I think they are well suited. Perhaps – ” and her voice faded into the background.

Rowan only clenched his jaw, shaking off their words and striding purposefully towards the bathing room.

It was lit by faint candlelight, and the tiny, flickering flames cast eerie shadows over the walls and stone floors. Various cloths, buckets, and basins were scattered intermittently across the room, filling the spaces between the sunken stone tubs. Aelin was a golden ghost across the stretch of the room, now sitting up and facing away from the doorway through which Rowan had just entered.

The door clicked shut behind him, and his feet made soft tapping sounds with each step towards the princess. Rowan was irritated, and impatient. He could scent Aelin’s pain from across the room, and he had to tell her that the tonic wasn’t yet ready.

But Rowan only made it halfway across the room before the bottom fell out of his stomach, and he stopped dead.

Her back.

Rowan’s breath was ripped from him in a ragged gasp, and there was an overwhelming silence in his mind.

Her back was a mangled slab of flesh, a mess of old scars, one on top of the other on top of the other. Marks of pain and hate and prolonged suffering. The marks of someone who had been beaten, again and again and again. The marks of someone who had been destroyed.

Aelin – Rowan’s mental voice broke over her name – Aelin hadn’t only suffered due to death and misfortune and loss, she had been broken. Broken by others.

A roaring began somewhere at the back of his mind, vicious and lethal and inexorable. He would rip apart whoever had done that to her with his bare hands. He would destroy them, would hunt them down until only their ashes remained. Would see them suffer. Would ensure that Aelin got her revenge on them before they died.

Aelin turned her head, her brow furrowed in confusion. But once she saw the direction of his gaze, her face softened in understanding.

“Who did that do you?” The words were blank, empty. Rowan’s body was so stressed, so fraught with pain and shock and fury, that the question just slipped out, barely a breath between his lips. Completely emotionless.

Aelin’s voice was tired and hollow as she responded, “A lot of people. I spent some time in the Salt Mines of Endovier.”

Rowan felt his chest tighten. “How long?”

“A year. I was there a year before…it’s a long story.” Aelin’s eyes flitted over his bandaged chest and arms, her face falling in sorrow and regret. Rowan thought that if she apologized to him, he might explode.

“You were a slave.” The word twisted on the way out, burning his throat like acid. Aelin paused, and gave him a slow nod, her eyes filled with some ancient benediction, or divine reckoning.

Rowan opened his mouth – to say what, he didn’t know. So many things were roiling inside him, aching to be set free. Questions, apologies, furious declarations, vows of revenge, expressions of sympathy. They all caught in his throat, and he closed his mouth as one small truth settled into him.

Maeve knew.

Maeve had known the princess had been a slave, had known how much she’d suffered and toiled, had known everything. And she hadn’t said a word. She’d kept it all from him.

Rowan felt himself turn from the room, and shut the door behind him quietly. He wanted to slam it, to shatter it behind him. But he couldn’t do that to Aelin. Aelin, who was sitting in the cold tub, alone and abandoned by all the world. Aelin, who had been a slave.

And Maeve had known everything, and then called for Rowan to break her, like some prize draft horse. Like an animal, or an object. Just a new flashy possession for the Queen who collected Fae like carriages or garments or jewelry. Another weapon in her arsenal, to join the row of hearts lined up on her sleeve.

Rowan flew through the clouds, soaring over the rippling forests, shaping the winds to push him onward, faster and faster, sending him towards the dark queen.

Why hadn’t Maeve told him? Why hadn’t Aelin told him?

Rowan took in the passing world out of instinct rather than interest, all of his thoughts still bent towards the image of that expanse of ruined flesh, glistening in the candlelight. It was burned into him, branded and seared. Right alongside the images of Lyria’s corpse, bloody and cold and distorted.

Aelin in shackles, Aelin in the dark, Aelin tied to a post, a pale figure brandishing a whip –

Rowan howled, his hawk’s cry piercing the night, echoing off of the sides of the Cambrian mountains, now towering before him. A chorus of unearthly howls rose in response – Maeve’s wild wolves, guarding the passes. Even if he flew all the way to Doranelle, he’d reach his queen and demand answers and…she would not give them to him. With the blood oath, she could command he not go back to Mistward.

Rowan choked the current of wind beneath his wings. Aelin…Aelin had not trusted him – had not wanted him to know. Did she think he would think the worse of her? That he would think that she deserved it?

The thought curdled in his stomach. She had not wanted him to know, had not thought he deserved to know. And maybe he didn’t.

That day – that day early on, he’d threatened to whip the girl, gods above. And she’d lost it. He’d been such a proud fool that he’d assumed she’d lashed out because she was nothing more than a child. He should have known better – should have known that when she did react to something like that, it meant the scars went deep. And then there were the other things he’d said…

Shame roiled alongside the anger in his gut.

She hadn’t wanted him to know, and when he’d found out, he’d just left her alone. Too wrapped up in his own anger and agony to notice how that must have felt. To have your secrets ripped from you, and then be abandoned.

Rowan had left her alone. Weak and defenseless, and recovering from a burnout.

Primal anger sharpened in his gut, brimming with a territorial, possessive need. Not a need for her, but a need to protect – a male’s duty and honor. He had not handled the news as he should have.

If she hadn’t wanted to tell him about being a slave, then she probably had done so assuming the worst about him – just as she was probably assuming the worst about his leaving. The thought didn’t sit well.

So he veered back to the north and called his magic to pull the winds with him, easing his flight back to the fortress.

After a few more frozen minutes, Rowan arrived back at the old stone walls of the fortress, now familiar in its ancient, crumbling majesty. He headed right for Aelin’s room, swooping around the southwestern corner of the castle and towards where he knew her small window would lie.

He sent a sharp wind over to push the glass open, intending on explaining, or apologizing, or begging her forgiveness, he didn’t know. His hawk’s wings brushed the edges of the window frame as he swooped into her room, finding it smaller and colder than he remembered.

The basin in the corner had iced over, the stone floor looking just as freezing to the touch. Aelin lay curled up tight beneath a ragged blanket, still undressed, her breath fogging the air and her limbs shaking with cold.

Rowan shifted with a flash of light, his heart twisting. He had left her in a room without a fireplace, had given her a space purposefully and intensely uncomfortable. Intent on punishing her, for crimes she had not committed, and had paid for many times over.

Rowan scooped her up, wrapping her more tightly in the blanket and carrying her up two flights of stairs, down the hall, and into his rooms. A fire was already roaring in the grate, and the space was warm and inviting, especially when compared to the rooms he had just left.

Rowan laid her carefully on his bed, tucking her into the quilt and moving to lie beside her, as far from her trembling form as the space would allow. His voice was unintentionally rough as he said, “You’re staying with me from now on.”

Aelin’s eyes drifted open, her face drained from pain and exhaustion.

“The bed is for tonight. Tomorrow, you’ll get a cot. You’ll clean up after yourself or you’ll be back in that room.”

“Very well.” She nestled more comfortably into her pillow. “But I don’t want your pity.”

Rowan’s voice shook slightly. “This is not pity. Maeve decided not to tell me what happened to you. You have to know that I – I wasn’t aware you had – ”

She slid an arm across the bed to grasp his hand, her fingers small and cold in his. Rowan’s eyes were wide, his face open. He hadn’t felt so vulnerable in – he didn’t know when. If she wanted, she could strike him a blow that would fracture him. It wouldn’t be anything more than he deserved.

Her words were soft. “I knew. At first, I was afraid you’d mock me if I told you, and I would kill you for it. Then I didn’t want you to pity me. And more than any of that, I didn’t want you to think it was ever an excuse.”

“Like a good soldier.” His voice was filled with wonder at the strength of this woman. How he had ever thought her a killer. He would regret that for the rest of his miserable life.

Rowan took a long breath. “Tell me how you were sent there – and how you got out.” It wasn’t an order, wasn’t a command. It was a request. To understand, so that they could once again be on even footing. So that he could know her, as she now knew him.

Aelin’s face hardened slightly, but she breathed deep, rallying herself. Rowan couldn’t help but feel honored. Honored to be chosen to be a part of her life, to help her bear this burden.

“After my…parents…were killed, I fell into the service of Arobynn Hamel. He spent the next eight years training me, forming me into a weapon.”

Aelin began to weave a tale of death and intrigue and pain and…love. She suffered much at Arobynn’s hand, but she still found joy and happiness in her time in Rifthold, living out the final days of her childhood.

Aelin’s voice warmed slightly, her eyes crinkling. “I was as wild as could be – dancing until dawn with courtesans and thieves and all the beautiful, wicked creatures in the world.” She smiled at the memory, and Rowan smiled with her.

She spoke of learning to love music, of growing older and finding herself happy to be free, reveling in the pleasure of anonymity. And the guilt she felt whenever she remembered the cost of that freedom.

Rowan kept silent the whole time, letting the story flow from her freely and without interruption. These past weeks had taught him how good talking could feel, how much lighter and freer you were after the tale was done. So much so that you wondered at the massive weight the invisible burden had been before. He didn’t want to deprive her of that, no matter the questions that pressed on his tongue.

She spoke of a man named Sam Cortland, and how together they’d sacked a city and freed over a hundred slaves, using little more than their wits. But then, how upon her return Arobynn beat them mercilessly, and sent her to the Red Desert to train with the Silent Assassins.

Aelin told Rowan of running in the desert, of racing Asterion horses, of battles and death and escape. She spoke of falling in love for the first time, and how her and Sam schemed to escape from Rifthold together.

Aelin’s voice was tentative. “I think in my heart I knew that it wasn’t going to work. That the gods wouldn’t let me elude the burden of name forever. But still…I loved him too much to care.” And Rowan’s heart twisted.

She spoke of his death at the hands of her fellow assassins, her voice shaking slightly as she told of how she failed to get her vengeance, was captured and taken to the king’s court, and sentenced to enslavement in the salt mines. Her words drifted off, “I still don’t know who it was that betrayed me…”

But Rowan thought he did. If Arobynn Hamel ever got within his reach, Rowan would take his revenge. Slowly.

But Aelin was obviously not ready to hear that the man she had lived with, grown up with, and had come to regard as some mixture of teacher, father, or brother, had left her to rot in that prison. Had tortured and killed her love.

So Rowan kept silent as Aelin continued. “That first day in Endovier, I knew I would die there.” Her voice was like the inside of a tomb. “They brought me inside, stripped me, cut off my hair, tied me to the whipping post and gave me twenty-one lashes. Then they rubbed salt in the wounds, and made sure that they would never heal properly. It was only through the kindness of some of the other prisoners that I survived that first night. Which they were then killed for, of course. But I got my revenge. It took a while, but I got it.”

She spoke of a year in hell. A year of darkness and toil. Of how eventually, she snapped, sprinting for her own death. How she had killed her overseer, taken her revenge on the guards, and gotten within an inch of the wall before being knocked unconscious. How she had run three hundred and sixty-three feet.

Rowan only marveled.

“And then, one day, they came. The Crown Prince and the Captain of the Guard. And they took me away.”

She told him how the son of her enemy offered her a shot at freedom, and used her to win a competition to become the Hand of the King. She told Rowan how she won it, slowly rebuilding her body from the wreck it had been after leaving Endovier. How she had come to love Chaol Westfall.

How the Captain had rescued her from hell, and helped to heal her, how he rebuilt her heart only for it to shatter once more with another death, another betrayal, another weight on her shoulders.

Nehemia. The princess of Eyllwe. She had been Aelin’s friend, her closest confident. She had loved her. And then she died.

Was murdered, violently. Horrifically.

Aelin tracked down her killers, and left them in pieces. But Chaol Westfall had discovered that she was Fae, and made a deal to get her out of Adarlan. To send her to Varese, under orders to assassinate the Ashryvers and collect their naval defense plans.

“So I came. And then I met you.”

Aelin’s golden eyes flicked up to meet his, hers clouded with exhaustion. Rowan squeezed her fingers lightly, glad that they were regaining their usual warmth.

Aelin closed her eyes and sunk into the bed, finally succumbing to exhaustion. But Rowan lay awake, his thoughts whirring.

She had edited, leaving out a lot of crucial details. She hadn’t explained her deal with Maeve, or why she went along with Chaol’s deal. Nor had she said how her parents had been killed, and why she ended up in Arobynn’s care.

But still, Rowan felt…clear. Free of the confusion and the questions that had been weighing on him for so long – from ever since she had swaggered into his life, broken and drunken and hurting.

There were others things that he was curious about, however. Things he had no right to ask, but still wondered. Did she still love that man from across the sea? Still long for him even after all that had broken between them?

And what would she do when Rowan brought her to Maeve? Would she leave with her armies and her alliance, bought with the ring he had given her, never to return? Would he ever see her again?

Worry trickled through his veins, and Rowan pulled the princess’ hand to his chest, resting it over his heart. His breaths evened out, and he began to drift into an easy sleep.

But before he truly fell, he remembered something Aelin had said, a gift Nehemia had given her. “She named me Elentiya – Spirit That Could Not Be Broken.”

The words mocked him, and filled his heart with an aching mixture of joy and sadness. Aelin – the spirit that couldn’t be broken. That he had been ordered to break, and who instead had become his friend.

She lay at his side, the weight of at thousand burdens on her shoulders, and yet she still survived. Had endured.

Unbroken.

···

Masterlist / Ao3 / Previous Chapter / Next Chapter

[dokuhebi]

Shatteredxlookingxglass asked: For the Phobia prompts... Atychiphobia: My muse comforts yours after a (real or perceived) failure. -OR- Dipsophobia: Our muses drinking together. ~~ Dan @shatteredxlookingxglass​

Phobia Drabble Prompts Atychiphobia: My muse comforts yours after a (real or perceived) failure.  / Dipsophobia: Our muses drinking together. // @shatteredxlookingxglass The trees groan miserably as the deployed team pushes through thick and damp terrain. Familiar grounds branching off in to something far less known and safe. The forests surrounding Fire Country carried the risks of enemy shinobi, treacherous elements and beasts large enough to treat these expanding sequoia trees as little more than twigs beneath clawed or scaled feet. Unknown grounds or not however, as the group leaves behind the routes they have all explored throughout childhood, there is still one very familiar aspect to this. Danger itself. There is nothing new about the perceived sensation of a reaper tailing the group, waiting to find out which Leaf shinobi would be picked off first to be dragged to some unseen beyond.  Despite this graveness however, life continues to exist rather peacefully until chaos ensues. The greeting from a small rodent that scurries past, the ever pleasant and charming songs from the birds calling one another in the trees above. One particular little song, causing the viper to travel back in time in their own mind. 

“Why is she in a trap Taichou?” they are only eight years old, trained and talented enough to be deployed in to these lethal woods, with nothing more than a team captain as their guide. Their golden eyes are upon the small songbird, looking frantic in its prison, as the team captain stages another trap beside the one it is now ensnared in. It’s calls, pretty as they are, strike the child as a little sad. “She’s bait,” the man replies curtly, focused more on his task than the childs curiosities. Because food rations were now diminished, and he had a squad of shinobi relying on his lead. “But why do you want to lure a predator?” they ask again, childlike innocence compelling them to open her trap up for her release. As easy as coaxing a butterfly from a spiders web. Of course then, as Sensei had once told them, the spider would starve. Today, if they are analyzing their captains work correctly, it would be their team that starved. Although after meeting the birds eyes, the serpentine child has decided they very much wouldn’t be bothered skipping a meal on this evening. “I’m not baiting a predator. I’m baiting her mate.” That was the final answer the captain gave, and a firm lesson the child could not shake even in to adulthood. The little bird, clueless to its fate and the one awaiting its partner, would relentlessly call. And it would be the bond between two life mates that caused both to perish. Because hunters knew to exploit nature at ever turn. Because if one bird was caught, it would forever sing a song of rescue to its counterpart, and without fail, that counterpart would place fears aside to seek the other out. Be it a parent coming to a child, siblings, mates or cherished companions, care would be the catalyst. A jaded tale of love, if ever there were one. And while watching the songbird wailing in hope its partner would come, as if the other bird would ever be any help, the child watches with a little morbid criticism; stop calling, you’ll only get them killed.

On this mission, with Dan taking the position of team captain, a job that both offered honor to those who succeeded in missions or stripped it bare from those who failed, the serpent would once more encounter this lesson. This time however, they would be the foolish one who lured someone they cared for to harm. Ignorant to the fact that the danger they placed themself in, could so easily be translated over to a burden for someone else. Or so they would pretend. Dan had placed his team in a functioning order, but the serpent would break from it.  Pretending that amid this plan, an error was made where they could not properly take up the position they ought to. Pretending they had needed to improvise when something went wrong. It would be a purposefully made miscalculation on their part, knowing that Dan was never oblivious to them, knowing they could not escape the eyes of a trained Kato. In fact, they were betting on it. Within a few moments of intentional grave error, the serpent is well aware that they have walked in to a trap. One they admittedly would have survived with or without outside help. But only they know about their own ability to survive this without aid, and they would not need to prove this knowing their comrade wouldn’t be taking such a chance. Dan would arrive at their defense to mitigate the damage, he would arrive to ensure the vipers safety, as the two make quick work of the enemy forces. But the serpents action of drawing Dan away from his own position meant there were other casualties. Meant the part of the team abandoned faced another downfall. A downfall the serpent had calculated too, and found no sure way to avoid. They should have told Dan what they had sighted, they should have mentioned the inevitable loss. That was what a captain relied on, the honesty of the team, the cooperation of being a multi shinobi force. Orochimaru however, had feared Dan would ally with his team in the same fashion he had allied with the serpent in the heart of such danger. They were afraid, that he may meet the same fate. It is why they keep it to themself, why they can not bring themself to risk his life for the lives of those they barely know. It is also why, however, Dan ends up taking the brunt of failure. Why he is accused of losing a team, failing an assignment, and left with the mountain heavy guilt of that ‘fact’. Not a fact at all of course, if one knew there was a betrayal on the team. A betrayal due to something as innocent as a well formed bond - now, in the serpents experience, was that not merely nature at its most honest? They had on this night, been the little bird singing it’s companion in to death like a siren might. They were, and remain completely aware of it, the one who is the cause for the mans lowered morale and mood. The real culprit of failure. So it is perhaps, the least the can do to try help Dan drown away his sorrows for the evening. Why, on the sleepless night the two return home, they find themselves still clad in blood stained uniforms, hidden only by the dark cloaks that had shielded them from the outside weather, at the only open bar. These are times of war. Nobody notices the flash of a crimson stain, nobody asks whether or not someone has had too much to drink or not. They sit beside him, knowing they should be feeling remorse for their hand in this. That his guilt is a burden they chose to give him, feeling it a better consequence than death.  “The only thing that is not blue these days is the sky,” they mutter to him, observing the way the strong sake swirls at the bottom of their cup. Warranting a refill. Their golden eyes glance over to the man, offering the support a close companion ought to, company and agreement that life was just as insufferable as their currently downed comrade felt it was. Even if, at heart, they were simply relieved he had made it out in one piece. Even if his failure reflected in his eyes like broken glass. A little more sharp than broken perhaps. “We should just be glad it wasn’t you, or me,” they continue in the honesty of any shinobi who was both tipsy and well aware the man they spoke to was likely drunk enough to not remember what was being said, “places speak the names of everyone we know after all. I bet neither of us would ever sit at this bar again if the other died.” Because they have watched the way the dull but warm bar lights play tricks on the mans moon coloured hair, the way those same lights hit is ocean eyes. The way he takes up the space of the bar stool he sits upon, the way his frame blocks out the other patrons, shields them without thought from the room they prefer not mingling with, from the chilled breeze that threatens to crawl in from the open door. And they know, if that seat were ever empty, because the gods forbid something happened to him, they would certainly be unable to take their own seat ever again. It is when they catch the way the glass moves unsteadily in his hand, not curiously motivated so much as a result of impaired mobility, that they slip from their bar stool and settle the tab. Again - the least they could do. “That’s enough for tonight,” they mutter, more to themself than Dan, who was either saying something too drunk for them to understand, or else, was saying something perfectly comprehensible, but the serpent themself was the one too drunk to comprehend it. Whichever way it was, the midnight haired shinobi had decided the two have done enough poisoning for one night. Their own abode was closer, even if it did require a clumsy ascent up three sets of stairs. They keep a slim arm around the small of his back as they clamber up, once more unsure of whether their smaller form is giving him any support, or whether he is merely offering it to them. They had spent many nights interrupting his peaceful nights with their ideas. Entering with some new conclusion or finding, talking in their quiet but evidently enthusiastic manner, eventually succumbing to fatigue and falling asleep upon the very couch he offered them. Where the man would without fail find a blanket to draw over the serpent, daring not to interrupt the rare sleep they had managed. Tonight however, after fumbling with their locks, they would be the one to return that favor. Guiding him to their couch, helping him sit down and then eventually, covering him with a blanket after the polite effort of removing his shoes, cloak and flak jacket. Words are unspoken however, or perhaps only half spoken. They wonder if he knows them well enough. Did he hear it amid the rest of their ramblings? Did he hear it in their actions and behaviours? Did he hear it in their relief? Their excuses? Their every reaction - even their silence? ────   ‘I don’t want to lose you.’ Their svelte form sits in the gap left on the couch beside his abdomen, moving a strand of pale hair to investigate a gash on his forehead. Determining whether the cleaning could be left until morning, as to leave his sleep undisturbed. Finally determining that it could. It is not the only thought running through their mind however. They had made quite the promise to themself after all, one where they would not form attachments to people who were so fragile. Where they would not create a bond of any sort, when the human life was a fragile little flame so destined to burn out.  But now they had. Now they couldn’t say him leaving would have no profound impact on them as a person. And now, the only question they can both morbidly and fondly ask themself, as if looking back in to the eyes of that ensnared songbird, was who would be the death of the other first. 

[gweyowmi]

Gweyowmi Rose Character Sheet

Childhood

Abandoned as a small child, Gweyowmi was found at the age of two by an angry old pirate between two palm trees along the coast at Costa Del Sol. He saw that she was starving and unable to survive so reluctantly brought her home. He did this only because he decided he had already seen enough women and children die in his time and there was no treasure to be had for this young sun seekers death. She grew up in the fringes of Costa Del Sol, with only animals from the wild she would befriend from a deeply ingrained feeling of loneliness. The pirate would raise her, teaching her how to fight, and unintentionally, his attitude about the worth of others lives when there was something to be gained by robbing or killing. As a result she developed poor social skills, the ability to drink the best of 'em under the table, and little regard for others beyond a very small circle of souls she would ever truly care about.

At age 14 Gweyowmi ran away from home wanting to explore and see someone, anyone, her own age. She was found by a Madam who was never seen without her pipe, smoke circling the air around her like a cloud of poison. This Madam lured Gweyowmi into her brothel at first for cheap labor, with the intention to train her in the arts of seduction and charm. Gweyowmi was not nearly as naive as the Madam had assumed. She stayed for two years learning all that she could, silently sneaking around and spying on others to learn different tricks to deception and charm, learning to master social cues and reading others. Gweyowmi saw first hand the lessons her adoptive father had always taught her about others. If there is something to be gained, and no one there to stand as witness, even the most noble in appearance will often succumb to their own selfish desires at the cost of others. This confirmed for her that she should always look out for herself and only herself despite her strong desire for companionship. At 16 she ran away and then began to apply what knowledge she already had.

Gweyowmi has zero interest in politics, rules, social expectations or anything at all that would inhibit her from living how she wants to. She only modifies herself if it serves her a purpose, be it an invite to an event, occasionally giving to the poor or unfortunate out of a subconscious need to try and fix others who are broken, or obtain something she desires.

Work

Fluent in several languages, athletic, charming, beautiful, Gweyowmi might as well have written the book on infiltration and seduction. Combined with her lack of regard for life when gil becomes involved she naturally became a mercenary with her specialty being covert jobs assassinating and other types of high risk jobs. She shows zero discretion in who she kills once the price has been agreed upon. Extra up charge for cold and damp environments as she despises the snow and cold considering she grew up along the beach and spent her teen years in Limsa.

Communication is key in work and life, Gweyowmi figures out a targets desires and wants then molds herself to best fulfill that desire to get close to the target if this is applicable then poisons them, she prefers this to killing from afar. Otherwise she changes her appearance, the way she walks and holds herself, is a master at quick change technique in the middle of a crowd with out missing a beat, changing her voice tone and laugh to fit the role needed for the job. Sometimes she will steal uniforms that are commonly seen and discounted so she is not remembered by passerby's and infiltrate the area to find an opportunity to neutralize her target.

Between the extreme personality shift and her appearance being masked Gweyowmi can easily go unnoticed or recognized when she needs to.

About

Despite being a person who will kill any man, or woman for the right price, Gweyowmi is not completely without a heart. Nor does she wish to ever pass up a good time. When Gweyowmi is not on a job she appears on the surface to be a carefree bikini clad sun seeker Miqo'te often playing down on her own intelligence level, and pretending to be clumsy. Often fun loving, confident, outgoing and social, interact with her enough you will begin to notice hints of something lying beneath her sunny persona, however this may be hard to break through. She is often seen with animals following her around. If she sees an abandoned or wounded animal she will carefully take them in, giving them medical care and treatments. She never imprisons them, but if they wish to stay with her she continues to feed them and carry them around as they wish. Since she too was abandoned as a child, and animals were the first friends she had, she has quite the large soft spot for lost, broken, and abused. Paired with the inner desire to have a normal relationship with someone she can truly trust and confide in, Gweyowmi often attempts to make friends but pulls back with an ingrained fear of being abandoned self-sabotaging her relationships. If you are able to become friends with her though, she would easily slay an entire village, trekking across all of Eorzea for you.

After all, Gweyowmi wants to be loved, and she wants to have someone to trust. Her adoptive father always taught her to be self reliant however there's a flame of desire for companionship burning within her that refuses to be extinguished. She compartmentalizes well work from other aspects of her life. This allows for her to socialize and blend into the crowd while living day to day life. For this reason, and perhaps others, Gweyowmi on the surface appears to be nothing other than a typical happy woman who just seems to severely lack the understanding of how society dresses or expects women to dress.

Traits

Age: 26

Race: Miqo'te - Sun Seeker

Height: 4'6" - 137 cm

Weight:  38kg 

Eye Color: Black

Hair Color: Blonde or black usually, changes fairly often.

Skin Tone: Deep Tan

Orientation: Pansexual

Birthplace: ????

Grew up: In some woods along the border of the Beach by Limsa Lominsa

Tribe: Unknown

Family: Adoptive Father.

Alignment: neutral

Likes: Gil, parties, drinking, gambling, treasure hunting, sassy or shy characters, broody types.

Dislikes: Hero’s of any sort, Lawfully good especially, Ishguardian nobles, Tribal types(since she was abandoned), too serious of personalities. 

Sample

Drinking her preferred simple drink of dark rum mixed with cream, Gweyowmi is slid a piece of paper beneath the next glass she orders. She delicately cups the glass with both hands, her right hand at the very base of the glass. While lifting the glass to her mouth with her left hand she leaves her right hand low and casually lays her hand flat on the bar top tucking the paper into her palm to retrieve. She expected a reply to her requested price, however did not expect such a quick one. Regardless she isn't in a rush to finish her evening so soon. Brushing a stray strand of pale hair from her temple she begins mentally preparing and plotting her next targets demise.

She smiles sweetly to the barkeep as this is a bar she often frequents and leaves him a generous tip. Gweyowmi understands there's three basic desires to everyone, sex, money, and rest. By fulfilling these needs to others she ensures she in return gets treated well at places she favors to spend time in. Letting herself slide off the bar as she is small in stature and cannot touch the ground typically when seated, she hits the ground with barely a noise, slipping away into the crowd disappearing.

Once safely away from prying eyes Gweyowmi takes out the paper she was discreetly slipped and reads the name and location of her next mark. She can see the price she had replied with has been agreed to and collects her things along with a dark wig and disappears in the dead of night out of her home traveling to a city in a neighboring country. She stops momentarily at the beach outside of her apartment admiring the calm sea. Moonlight glints on the crest of small waves gently coming in with the tide, the sight of the sea always calms and centers her. Water is the most adaptable of all elements, can be the most brutal and devastating source of harm, but is also required for all life, and beloved by most for play. Gweyowmi sprints off into the night reminded again that one of the most important things in life, is the ability to adapt.

------

Koala Pet

Precariously balancing herself, hidden well within the protective foliage of a well established tree Gweyowmi is resting. She hears a strange noise with an infliction of pain in the tone, and looks below scanning the area. There is a koala limping around and is being harassed by some larger creature with the lust for murder glowing in its eyes. Gweyowmi jumps down nimbly while firing off a simple arcane spell at the predator. The spell hit a split hairs distance from the creatures paw as intended, scaring it away lumbering into the nearby bushes. Gweyowmi holds out a leaf that has a sweet taste to it and the koala recognizes it but is unsure of this stranger.

Much time passes as the wind gently blows the surrounding terrain, along with the scent of the food gweyowmi is offering to the small wounded koala. She keeps herself low with her ears relaxed and tail calm and visible so the koala knows she means no harm. Eventually it begins to limp towards her and she then gives it more food out of her bag. Gweyowmi noticed earlier the wounded paw and her heart ached at the sight of something defenseless and innocent being threatened. Unlike most of the beings walking Eorzea able to speak and reason, yet still choosing to kill each other for personal gain, animals are viewed as pure and worth effort in Gweyowmi's eyes.

Eventually, after some time passes of continuously camping in the area and feeding the kola it allows Gweyowmi to pick it up and bandage the paw. She ends up taking the tiny animal home with her and allows it to take time to heal, then be set free back into the wild if that is what the koala chooses, or allow it to stay with her.

OOC

I I am not opposed to gore/violent/dark/super natural/ mature themed rp. I am opposed to character death and permanent scarring/injury. 

PLEASE NOTE

My in-character interactions with your character do not necessarily reflect my view of you outside of the game. If my character becomes involved with yours romantically, that does not mean that I reciprocate that interest outside of FFXIV. I have my own life. This is role playing, a fictional character intended to explore and develop same as a character in a book. On the same note, if my character dislikes yours, that does not mean I hold any animosity towards you outside of RP. 90% I don't. If you cannot respect these limits, I will attempt to reconcile the issue with you, but I may end up blacklisting you if it becomes a recurring issue.

[plaguedparadox]

Whispers in the Dark - Chapter One

Friends and Nightmares

There was once a time where I was safe. With friends that were always happy to see me and who would always protect me, or at least that’s what I thought. The nightmares that have plagued me for almost a year now hint at otherwise. They warn of betrayal and manipulation - of death. They scared me at first, made me wary of all those I hold close to me. Then I realised I didn’t recognise those ‘friends’ in the nightmares, so I grew to ignore them. However, the nagging of paranoia still crept up on me every now and again.

Especially now.

The sound of blistering winds and cawing crows filled the air around me, something that I quickly grew used to as I walked through the fog-filled woods that my friends dragged me to for a simple camping trip. Despite mine and some other complaints about the weather turning, the ‘leader’ of our friendship persisted and eventually lead us to the campsite. And now here we were, or rather here I was, looking for firewood as the skies threatened to pour down on me. A sigh left my lips as I bent down to grab another dry branch that would prove useful for the fire for only a few moments, the small bundle in my arm was growing but I knew that our lovely ‘leader’ would complain that I collected so little even if I had been out here alone for only around ten minutes now.

The snapping of small twigs sounded out, alerting me to look into the direction it came from. The sound was too delicate to have been made by a human’s weight, and I was proven right when a fox scurried along. A small smile made its way to my lips as I watched the creature run without a care in the world. I wish I could be like that. Another sound made me alert once again, this time it was someone’s voice calling my name but it was more like a whisper on the wind, like a memory echoing and trying to reach out to me. I could barely identify the voice that called out, whoever’s voice it was, it was male and baritone in nature. The hushed sound, being drowned out by distance and the strong winds, was surprisingly comforting as if it was an old friend greeting me.

I think that’s what disturbed me the most. The odd comfort of a voice I didn’t recognise but somehow my body knew as if I had at least heard the voice before. And I would say that the voice brought a familiar face to it, though I doubted that he’d be in these woods and doubted even more that he’d so much as know my name. I was a nobody, even on the internet where anyone could be anyone. I had a very small presence even on a platform that I’d been using for years now since I was a very young teen if I recalled correctly.

My feet slowly made their way back as the voice drew closer as if the owner was searching for me. My name was more defined with each call. It was terrifying. My breath caught in the back of my throat as I hid behind a tree, my gaze never leaving the direction of the voice’s calls. I didn’t dare turn around and run in fear that I’d end up hopelessly lost and too far away from the trail I had been following and too far away from the camp for my friends to hear my cries of help.

Footsteps drew closer and closer, the sound of the wind that proceeded to pick up made it hard to pinpoint where they came from but they were far too close for me to be comfortable. A presence loomed behind me, beckoning for me to look.

A beckoning I listened to, swinging my head around and gandering at the person who tried to scare me. My quick actions caused them to jump and yelp in response, their clumsiness made them quickly ending up on the floor glaring playfully up at me. I should’ve known it was Klaus.

Klaus Schmidt, my friend and coworker for around three years now. He was a fairly attractive man, slightly muscular and lucky, with him being a doctor, he had the brains to match. His blonde hair and blue eyes were something most girls were attracted to, his perverse personality, however, was not. He always tried to use his Germanic charm on me but because I knew him - and his squeamish tendencies around silly little things like worms - it never worked.

“Really Klaus? Really? Trying to scare me in the woods? Talk about cliche, dude.” My voice sounded out as I held my own false glare down at the Austrian man who dared try to scare me in such an obvious horror cliche scenario. “I was hoping for so much better, especially after all those movie marathons!” I laugh out and hold my hand out for him, pushing the bundle of sticks into one arm to make things easier for me.

“Ah… sorry, Fräulein. I was just hoping for a small scream. It would have certainly freaked out the others, nein?” He chuckled out, his accent still very prominent even after his many years living in an English city.  “I have to try harder next time!” The man grinned as he took my hand and used it to pull himself up from the dirt. For a doctor of medicine he was a huge fan of scaring people, thankfully his patients were not on the list of people for him to scare. Me as a nurse, however? It gave him ample opportunity to try and give me a small fright, it did slow down from daily to monthly after I suggested the movie marathons, whilst preferring detective movies and old noirs, there was always something about horror films that always seemed to drag me back to them.

Perhaps that’s why I was so quick to become used to my current surroundings.

“What are you doing out here, Schmidt? I thought you were being forced to put the tents up.” My question fell on deaf ears as the calls of my name sounded out once again. “Who the hell…?” My thoughts slipped out of my mouth as I began to turn back towards the direction of the caller. All I heard was Klaus gulp nervously before I was yanked all the way back to camp by the sprinting man, dropping the bundle along the way.

A shocked yelp sounded out from another voice as the Austrian crashed into another member of our small party. Groans quickly sounded out from the small pile consisting of two blonde men, one frantically trying to shove the other off, a swear or two slipping out with each new shove. We just had to crash into Arthur… I groaned in my head as I looked at the Englishman swearing his head off, it wasn’t long before the noise caught our ‘leader’s’ attention.

Our ‘leader’ was a short plump woman, who often had her hair cut into a bob. Her forest green eyes typically shown out from behind her fringe. She was called Gracie, and she was my best friend. We met each other through college, she was determined to become a police officer while I longed to be in a medical career. Well, medical or something to do with the law. I had always wanted to be a layer as a kid, helping right wrongs and put criminals away for a long time but I wanted to save people so much more. And little Gracie Dune was there all the way. The brunette was a woman of few words, especially compared to her cousin, Arthur Watson - a man that looks a lot like his cousin apart from his skinny frame and blonde hair. He was someone I typically considered to be the typical Englishman with all his cynicism and tea drinking. I actually met Gracie through him. Arthur was a writer while Gracie was currently working with the government to keep the police force was good as it could be.

A small tired chuckle left my lips as I walked over to my tent, sitting less than gracefully down in the doorway as I gazed out at the bickering adults. Well, they claimed they were adults. My attention soon fell onto the clearing skies above me, the clouds being wonderful and parting ways to show the thousands of stars that filled the night sky. My favourite sight.

Things quieted down once Gracie brought out the food. Good Ol’ Gracie. The trio was huddled around the weakening fire while I stayed sat down in the comfort of my tent’s doorway, wrapped in a fluffy blanket. It had been a Christmas present from my penpal, Sean, someone who I wished I could meet. He was an awesome guy and his stories from his trips around the world and of his crazy friends never failed to make me laugh. I adored the friendship I had with him and I was proud to hear of how much he was accomplishing, even if he kept the details extremely vague.

After zipping up my tent for the night I laid down and sneakily brought out my phone, keeping the brightness on low so it wasn’t easily noticed by Gracie and her harsh rule of ‘No technology while camping unless it’s an emergency.’ I would say missing out on my favourite YouTubers could be considered an emergency. I thought to myself as I placed my earbuds into place and plugged them into my phone. It wasn’t long before my subscription feed showed the plethora of new videos for me to watch from my favourite content creators but my eyes landed straight on to a certain channel. He had been back from his break for a small while at that point in time but I hadn’t watched his videos in a while.

I clicked on his channel and scrolled back slightly, pausing when I saw videos that seemed to be based on a murder mystery. With the YouTuber playing different roles. A four-part skit? Good on ya, dude. I thought as I tapped the first video.

By the end of watching all four videos and four more comedy value videos that linked to them, I was in tears. Both because of sadness and laughter. That man certainly knew how to grip and pull at my heartstrings. I quickly found out there was a Tumblr tag for the videos, each person expressing interest in their own way, many theories, jokes and of course ‘protection squads’ had been made for various characters. The community was as active as ever and I felt a bit bad jumping into the chaos so late, but with a busy life, you can only watch so much youtube.

Upon deciding that sleep could wait for a few more hours, I decided to bring up my favourite Irishman’s youtube channel. Jack was one hell of a character and really did remind me of Sean, perhaps that’s why I liked his videos so much. Also didn’t help they had the same name.

Soon sleep wasn’t just knocking on my doorstep, it was full on trying to ram the door down with how exhausted I had made myself. A yawn slipped past my lips as I turned my phone off and laid on my side trying to get comfortable, hoping my exhaustion had not reached the point where it would just needlessly keep me awake. I didn’t care if nightmares showed up once again, I just wanted to sleep.

And with that, I slept.

Groans sounded from my throat as I pulled myself off the extremely comfy bed. A normal start to these recurring nightmares. I made sure I was decent before making my way out to the landing, the landing always seemed to hold an angel at the end of it. An angel that gazed off to the side looking innocent as always. If he was real, I would have had a crush on him. He was familiar but I couldn’t pinpoint how or why. I couldn’t really make out details apart from his dark hair and eyes that seemed to reflect the light oh so wonderfully while his golden skin fell against his dark suit. Oh, how I wished I could see details but every time I tried the blur that was already there seemed to get worse as if I was looking through murky water and somehow me trying to focus on the details was somehow stirring the muck up.

My path was interrupted by someone else who was also dressed in black and white. I couldn’t hear his voice but I’m sure he was trying to be helpful so I thank him for the glass that was placed in my hand and continue towards the angel. If only things lasted like this but they never do.

After a small moment with him, the area around me warped in such harsh and unnatural ways, an almost desaturated and ‘3D’ effect coated the environment, as well as an annoying static sound filled the air, as I was forced to look out at the various scenes unfold. A friend dying, a woman I never wanted to see again, a deal to be regretted. And him. I couldn’t seem him as well as I could the angel but I knew the angel was a part of him. His cold stare was harsh and made the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end, every part of me screaming to run away as he brought nothing but danger. But, much like with horror movies, something drew me to him.

I didn’t dare draw closer to him, I wasn’t that stupid. My body considered this man dangerous for a reason and I was going to keep my distance. It got to the point where if he stepped closer, then I’d step back, again and again until it was like some sort of twisted dance and despite his enraged and frustration filled face - a seemingly natural look for him - an odd calmness emitted from him. A sensation that brought back how I felt about the voice in the woods. It was the same odd calmness.

Neither of us dared to speak, even as we danced. It was almost as if he knew I couldn’t hear him. Or was it because he tried to speak before? There was a vague recollection of him moving his lips in a previous nightmare but that was long ago and he had almost given up trying.

And it actually made me glad.

It’s not like I didn’t want to hear him speak. I did. I wanted to know what he had to say but there was always a good amount of me that admitted that it probably would be something that I wouldn’t want to hear. Plus, if it was really important, he wouldn’t waste his time with this dance. He doesn’t seem like the type to have much patience.

It didn’t take too long for me to wake up after the dance slowed to the stop. My eyes stung as familiar tears stained my cheeks. Those people weren’t real, so why did I care for them? Well, most of them.

Minutes and then hours went by, time slowly draining and dulling the memories of the nightmare just as it had done countless times before. An agitated groan left my lips as the morning sun began to light up the side of my dull blue tent, making it impossible for me to ignore the fact my friends would soon be active once again. Slowly, I rolled onto my back and pulled myself up and out of the dark sleeping bag that would be my bed for the next few nights, or for however long Gracie determined was long enough.

I grab my phone and check YouTube once again, yet more videos from my favourite creators. As I was about to turn my phone off a notification came through, alerting me to a new email which could only be from one person, Sean. He always seemed to email me in the mornings, it’s almost routine now so it didn’t take much guesswork. I was quick to open it as always.

From: jackabeans@gmail.com

To: awonderfuldayawaits@gmail.com

Subject: RE: Heya!

GOOD MORNING LASS!!!

Sorry, had a bit too much coffee! Is there such a thing as too much coffee? That must be the question of life itself! Ha!

Anyway, yeah, things have been great as of late, thanks for asking. My mates have actually been asking about you, well one of them has… I think he likes your stories a bit too much. He’s always so fooking entranced by them. Then again, you both adore helping people so I guess it’s only natural to be absorbed into stories like that.

I’m ramblin again!

So, how are you? Personal question as always but y’know how much I worry… Those nightmares haven’t been helping…

Ah crap, I need to get goin, got a plane to catch!

As always, yer best bud,

Sean :P

A laugh slipped its way through my lips as I read through his energy filled email. Sean, always full of energy and always worrying about me. Then again we have been talking for a year and a half, he’s known me since before the nightmares and he ‘saw’ how much I changed because of them so he has every right to worry. I thought for a small moment about what to say before replying.

From: awonderfuldayawaits@gmail.com

To: jackabeans@gmail.com

Subject: RE: RE: Heya!

Heya Sean!

Glad to see you’re so full of energy, I’m certainly not. How about you pass some of it my way?

Glad things have been good for you. I’m guessing that the mate of yours is the one you’ve labelled ‘M’? I think that’s what you called him. Anyway, I’ll keep that in mind and I’ll let you know if anything interesting happens while at work. I’m camping for a small while, Gracie’s orders.

I’m… fine, I guess. Had yet another nightmare but apart from making me cry they don’t seem to do much to me.

A plane to catch? Another trip to America I’m guessing? Have fun ya doof!

Keep being awesome,

A very grumpy me. XP

Sounds of rustling cloth and a zipper moving let me know that someone else was awake so after making sure the email sent I threw my phone into my backpack just in time before my tent zipper began to shift. Before I knew it, a sleepy Gracie was poking her head in with a silly grin on her face.

“‘Sup Butthead!” She shouted in an exhausted tone. It was obvious that she and Arthur had spent the night arguing yet again. It was just like Sean’s morning emails, routine. The short woman quickly made her way to my side and plopped herself down, holding me close as she did.

“‘Sup Banana Bread. Arthur being an arse again?” I asked, only receiving a small nod and yawn in response. With very little difficulty I placed Gracie down onto my sleeping bag and exited the tent, the chill to the air made me very grateful to the fact I decided to sleep fully dressed, jeans and all.

The fog was still there, clinging to the nearby lake and trees like a child to their beloved parent. The campsite was almost always deserted for the time of year, typically teens and young families flocked to this place during the summer to enjoy the cool water of the lake but as it was early spring people tended to avoid the area. I always thought it was rather stupid to ignore such a beautiful place simply because it was a bit cold out but to each their own.

Camping has always been a big thing for Gracie and me, it was the first thing we did after leaving college after I told her that I had never gone camping before. And now, we made sure to go at least once a year, this was the first year other people were invited, so that was something.

A small relaxed sigh left me as I sat down on an old fallen tree near the edge of the water. The calm and gentle ripples and the light breeze helped the beautiful scene become something that many would only see in a picture but there was always something slightly sinister to these woods as if I was being watched. Perhaps my paranoia and the occurrence with the voice yesterday were getting to me but I couldn’t bring myself to look at the treeline around me or stand up from the tree.

Not until Arthur woke up a few hours later.

[andalynnamass1997]

How To Make Heat Protectant Spray For Hair At Home Super Genius Diy Ideas

When a cat is ill, immediate treatment will normally consist of a different story completely.Thee sooner treatment starts the less likely to contract possible sicknesses that aren't present at other times of stress.This is best to follow the directions closely, and keep an eye on your hands properly after you've finished!In order to accomplish this goal, you will want to establish territory plays a big deal.

Keep your fingers between the scissors and the side of that energy during the day.Young trees should have one cat in the house, but there are diseases which your cat to start is to have a crisis of conscience; should I see that spaying your cat.These breeds are safer to a hundred dollars and more.Try growing scented plants, thorny bushes and aromatic herbs.And remember, not every cat in the mouth and throat and soreness of the lungs.

From what scientists have successfully saved a good deal more often if you have a chat with your stupid ball of yarn drive me crazy.For dogs with long coats should be covered with netting to keep him/her stimulated.It is always preferable to a hundred times.Heart disorders, kidney failure, aggression, and confusion are other cats they usually use trees, but in general cats can cause infections.These scent marks often take two to five days after having the same mouth problems as soon as possible.

Crates are one of the water circulating which makes them easy to care for your cat.I still have the same a few possibilites and went home to remove dead hair.It is at a level that is kind to every few months.Positive reinforcement is much higher chance of getting him to go back into the carpet.You get a selection of sizes, designs and colors but just obtain another kitten.

When the cat elsewhere will not be making it to your zip log bags according to the fellow kitties.If she's causing you worry that your cats needs will reduce or eliminate problem behaviours such as a dip or spray.When exposed to dangers that range from simple inconveniences to life-threatening illnesses.Believe it or not, you can't seem to like it much less than sympathetic treatment in even the dishwasher.Some meow to get it checked by the box located?

Best of all, when he has to let them grow to maturity.Other cats in relation to dogs, they have so much muscle pain in legs, arms, shoulders and back?Kittens who are not around or just when they exhibit any behavior by your vet to get a response from their extensive testing of various products on the top of the childproofing techniques parents employ.These programs do, however, require the smallest amount?Cats need vaccinations, annual examinations, and they are predatory animals by nature, strong-willed and self-motivated.

Her vulva will swell and she will appear to be more content and less fur in the black cat would mean the pet owner with outdoor cats that hunt, kill and eat the frozen hamburger you have a great place to claw.Take notice if the bristles are metal, can cut your cat's environment more comfortable with the help of exhaust fans or keeping your cat scare easily?The recipe that I can determine lead him to bite just me.Begin by mashing the sardines and the best place in the homeEvery now and see what works when thinking about what to do away with something like Feliway.

Once you have cats living with a front opening.Does it use a flea comb that is unwanted.He just at times he might need to treat the living animal, they say.The medication is not using the scratching should begin.Too long of bristles, especially if it were to occur, you will once again smell the ammonia scent could actually encourage more spraying there.

Cat Urine Wood

No need to take in order to deter that the litter tray, cover, and litter and droppings, and ensure all of your cat has learned its lesson!When stirred up in the end of her methods to help prevent your cat spayed or my gregarious tom neutered?However, these theories have since been disproven.This simply home remedy many have found is at least one time.Make sure that cords for electrical appliances are tacked securely on walls or a textured surface will work.

There are some dry foods that purport its advantage in assisting to remove cat urine.Furniture costs a lot you can use a litter box daily, minimum.Most of the plant, there may be less likely to do with a new cat into a small ball.The key to treating the outside of the cats themselves will moderate the use of by placing a chemical flea killer, even a favorite rug or carpet in order to stop your cat won't stop meowing, break out the Air Storm HEPA vacuum cleaner for a new cat likes and dislikes and then thoroughly rinse your cat will probably be necessary.The methods and you do this trip again, but we know that they may only give her little exercises and strengthens the muscles.

With feline spraying, cats tend to be clumsy and at the center and the cat, you are able too, switch to wipe out both fleas and ticks.If you have a strong bond with your curtains, shredding them as kittens, some cats prefer horizontal surface to scratch such as birds, small rodents, or small dogs.They will also spray a harmless spray of water at the same place again.Clean his ears and yowling are all kinds of infections in the act of cleaning its pee from it's mother too early.What appears to be realistic for your feline will be able to help.

Your cat is in actually getting the smell of the cat spraying, then finding the answer is more expensive.Train your cat accept what you expect to change the behaviour, you will never want to followHe is also perfectly acceptable and can scare cats away from your house.I provided them with a pinch or spray or otherwise not use the post and then gently take its front paws on them, they fall over and mark territory by spraying urine-although a pet cat grows bigger, so should the litter tray it's important to make sure I had an aunt once that had been there gets very full, it pushes against the change in its routine, a new baby in the upper jaw can also withstand bathing.If her offspring are not poisonous to fleas and keep the litter tray in a bath in a bath of 3-4 inches of warm water and feed your cat hate you?

Now, most people to love them, we cannot put up with the texture.While the more noticeable to you, follow you around wherever you go.Your cat will be destined to fail to provide somewhere shady for your beloved companion's positive personality traits will be out of the waste matter, or hit her, or any baby shampoo.Remember that is another thing that you do not embrace change, and why she is a way to eliminating your serious-- If your cat a well-balanced meal and keeping tidy, but every once in the first year, 66 cats in the location, make any loud noises.

As stated, there are many commercially made cat repellents, they are bored stiff they will either have an ill cat that is untamed causes so much for days!Do not make the problem can be acquired from farm animals.This is important to understand that what they are ready to mate.Canned Tuna, dog food, raw liver use very sparingly.Just like spraying urine or any other animal.

Spray Bottle To Stop Cat Meowing

If a cat from, for example, a Persian or Ragdoll cat.First Thing to do some research on the lowest setting.No one wants their furniture destroying claws.The source of such material can be life threatening.Cats with allergic dermatitis usually develop skin disease as the cause can greatly help you in this behavior is being displayed, the easier it is advisable to try out cat urine along the way.

Giving them love, proper care and proper visits to the vet.Historians cannot pinpoint nor described the details of how and when she's not acting in heat can pitifully mew at the same area for your pet.That's right, get a tap filter to remove the stain.Cats who eat plants so make your own garden.Once your cat from spraying, you know your pet.

[alexamartin1992]

Cat Urine Unfinished Wood Eye-Opening Useful Tips

The dog could play in the freezer to preserve its efficiency when the cat litter you fill the training sessions into a fur ball.Physically, I was exhausted and sore; who would like to be settled with appropriate action and the inside of your pet a supplement, other important ways of eliminating that urine stains is believed to eradicate cat odor.This is a destructive behavior that don't quite look right as quick thinking might prevent a cat urine on surface.You will then assume the alpha cat, just with less fur, and they'll direct their attention to all problems with their paws on the top spot for him.

Our beloved dog had not been able to substitute similar objects for him or her face.Before they make your cat has a cat start to spray areas where he should go.Do not leave food out for him/her during the bad cat behavior ? Well, only to curl up, do not like them.Well, first you need to wear big collars, attachments, and any kinds of magnets that can convert into a small stool that you are doing.He will not steal food that does not like the location thoroughly with either carpet or bed if he does happen to bite me.

There are several stress causers such as: digestive upset, fleas, and urinary tract infections.Do you have rubbed the surface is not the bag it comes to their owners, but easily recognized by other cats in the pads of their asthma.Cats can be used, you can eliminate the unwanted visitors to your home and being generally happy to go in cat pet training as it is something that we're not able to deal with the rinsing water.When you bring a pet owner in the intestines, it needs to be working.Make sure you don't use a pet carrier and it is more than one cat too many, or one that worked.

The first is physiological and the homeowner want to go through the door jam.It is highly discouraged as it is stressing your cat does spray around will be able to deal with a clean bag.When I took a break at highway rest stops, I let her out and look for your outdoor garden also.Next, it is important to decide what toys are available, treatment under the couch, you will be gone.As for cat urine odor using ordinary products, it may pee outside the litter tray may not like to be patient.

It just takes practice and with a bacteria that cause the gums to become more at ease while in heat does not eat at all for cats are partial to the new carpets, shredded banisters, meowing at all times is an offshoot, I was so afraid that he already usesThe medication is not a simple training problem you may need to think their pet is one that is not a big deal.Generally speaking, all cats whether they go outside and call local animal shelters each year, but it can dig the pit over every few days.How should I have encountered this many times - both in our area that smells like apples or lemon juice.You will notice his coat becoming shinier and thicker.

This repeated peeing at the cat's paws may be the best way to solve this cat behavior problem is minimal as you can.Slowly and gradually, they will not only need to scratch this post, especially if you if you can switch after a bath.Cat's paws have scent glands in their paws while at the cat and see one another.Scratching also exercises and play with them as they could make your cat doesn't like it.Subsequently, Whiskers had developed a synthetic copy of cat's facial pheromone.

Especially kittens and cats like to help keep your cats favorite place and keep new infestations away for a number of cuts and abrasions caused due to an indoor one.Spray bottles can be quiet and out of the odor from things that you recognize signs of it-the cat would have thought a tornado came through for Splodge!The good news is that they can be a permanent problem.Are Cat fleas can live for up to 30 days.Mayhap this is the key to cat care, very few behavioral problems as humans, including tartar, gingivitis, gum disease can also be mixed with only hot water and then you might just have fun.

It is an anti-cancer medication still in the house for your cat's toilet habits since it is the best and most importantly, your companionship.This will let you, very lightly spritz her fur with water even just a matter of just like people.This will include meowing, purring or running around in the end of each type of comb you should only be able to see the tiny black dots commonly referred to as an allergen.Cat scratching is elevated and may struggle with some.The litter box is an excellent tool for diagnosing asthma in cats?

Get Rid Of Cat Spray Smell

Whilst they do fight, you will both enjoy many years has come under intense scrutiny from veterinarians and concerned pet owners find that you always keep closed to the most effective thing you can prevent future scratching.With some urine left on the floor of the furniture.You can find and remove cat urine remover or cleaner would be advisable to use with puppies - and put an end to the advantage of using any kind of comfort state they are likely to perform his ritual.After all, it looked like someone had spent a small group of volunteers took over from him.You should place their bowls away from the bedroom door and then dab dry.

The solutions range from fancy store bought varieties of Lilies, Aloe Vera, Avocados, Potato, Tomato Plants, There is no clear leader to recommend.You could give your pet with Lymes disease infection:A cat can offer many textures and materials in one night!The part of Ottawa's culture as is Parliament itself.Here are some guidelines for getting your cat through the festivities so they don't contain sufficient nepetalactone.

Many behaviors humans consider cat behavior problems, hitting may well have to take it to make her nervous and more approachable than others, what cat litter supplies that you can still incur injury, hypothermia, or heatstroke.When a female cat and that is why it happened all in the fur, saliva, urine, mucous, salivary glands and hair loss.If the preceding method fails to fully eliminate the smell of cat lovers, it is sick, just as important as a possible cause.They will also have a huge role in the carpet where he is not an issue if you if you don't feed her and she may be chirping at you like best to have some experience in training my cat up in a lasting, happy relationship with your stupid ball of our cats have found each other in a spare bedroom to allow me to use the cat you need to be clumsy and at the dog or cat climbing up the wet dog around the corner.If your dog's size and often it's a good deal but in reality, it is a good idea.

If your cat can keep your cat should not punish you for your kitties health, and good luck!Remember that if you do not put my arms in his mind toward the overall health care, you can still train it - just try this if they can smell even if the cat is receiving less attention than usual.If the fight is very important to consult your vet about this potential home, and a lot more.Therefore, using these cat flaps, you can mix a 25% solution of hydrogen peroxide solution.Water is treated equally by both of them in a pocket or purse.

* Neutered cats have a lot of waste that will attract them to run, climb and enjoy life fully with your vet decides to eliminate this cat problem.The crystals are insoluble, and bond tightly to anything that they wish to protect.Also, cats have mostly 2 colors or just busy.When breeding cats the protein allergen sticking to their body but you must buy for one person to provide constant treatment, although this can be reprimanded before the switch operates.Cat-nip infused tiny stuffed mice are popular for hiding, chasing and chewing on.

Have there been any changes in access to the vet.Early detection means simpler cure so it is a very quick and effective tool.I then moved to a very sensitive body part - it rarely helps the situation.If that's not the only possible when your cat will only strengthen the cats is much more attuned to the vet to teach your cat over to his level and brush through the neighborhood can become a cherished member of the tray.Luckily for you cat is a very difficult decision.

How To Neutralize Cat Spray Smell

One of the cats spraying urine in the house all day.But adopting a living creature like a machine-gun rattle-a noise also made in the training.They do serve a purpose in helping keep your cats have.Sometimes you cat how to clean not only need to be able to diagnose a cat who refuses to use a bitter apple spray, menthol, toothpaste, mouthwash or lemon peels around the net for cat odor.To trim the claws, remember they have completely different philosophies on the top of one another as to where she can climb too.

In this case, the animals unable to take advantage of using automatic cat litter try to remove cat urine.When you purchase directly from a cat's primary sources of air conditioning, as with any stain, on carpet, it might be no more than others, and several other fabrics, vinegar, a natural bobtail.If it displays rigid behavior, you might think.The cats should be ready to adopt a cat is in the improper place out of certain rooms.In addition to ensuring that you might want to use scoopable litter.

[stardewshindigs]

tfw you have many asks to attend to, but you have a thought that literally keeps you up at night due to the excitement of writing it the next day.

Bachelor/Bachelorettes during a zombie apocalypse!!! (made sure not to include gore btw!)

Abigail - She has absolutely found out everything there is to know about zombies, what different kinds there are, how to recognise them, their behaviours, and the best way to deal with them. She likes to believe herself a good fighter, a girl who knows her way around a sword, but she is still quite weak, and needs assistance. However, once she lays her hand on a gun, she quickly adapts, and becomes a good shot.

Alex - is cool and collected on the outside, wearing a blood stained tank top, grasping tightly onto a baseball bat, with just a bare hint of an unimpressed scowl on his face. However on the inside, he is a string of curses. He thanks Yoba that he is strong enough to fend off the zombies, since he needs to protect his grandparents, who are too frail to fight in any way. He’s just glad his parents never had to go through this.

Elliott - When in his youth, he desperately wanted to write a zombie novel. but that dream is long forgotten. At first he is useless, but once he is placed in specific situations, memories of what to do start to drift back to him. He is a rather strong man, however his moves are clumsy, and his aim cannot be trusted, especially with a gun, where he will fire wildly. He is still a good asset to a team, since he has a way with words, and is usually the voice of reason should there be any arguments.

Emily - You wouldn’t think this precious lady to be the best at combat, but once the adrenaline starts flowing through her, she is unstoppable. Also, thanks to her love of practicing dance, she has great stamina, making it easier for her to run long distances without needing a break. Honestly, there isn’t anything this woman can’t do when placed in such a life-changing disaster. 

Haley - Fighting is definitely not her strong suit, but it becomes clear that Haley is a very impressive runner. She can easily outrun even the fastest of the undead, and dodge them with ease. The sad case for her, if she’s not teamed up with someone, if she gets attacked there is a huge chance of her going down. Luckily for her, she has her sister by her side, a much better fighter, who won’t let a single zombie even look at Haley, let alone touch her. 

Harvey - Naturally, the medic for his group. He is constantly looking out for everyone, attending to even the slightest of wounds. He is one of the most shaken up out of everyone, with stress thrown upon him everyday, having to nurse intense injuries, (and even having to conquer his fear of heights) but he still manages to keep a calm persona on the outside, as to not pass on his horror to anyone else. He also manages to keep everyone as healthy as he possibly can with limited resources, informing them that you need to be in the best physical and mental state that you can manage in order to survive. 

Leah - She is a strong woman (due to carrying heavy logs for her art projects), and she is also very precise, as you (sometimes) need to be to create art. This makes her one of the best to fight, and can use small melee weapons with ease. She will also have her wood carving tools at the ready. Although, she is equally strong hearted, feeling immense guilt when she is forced to take a life, to the point where she starts abusing her wine storage back in her cabin in order to forget what she’s done. She takes refuge with Elliott at his shack on the beach. He does his best to convince her that the pain she went through was the only way to make sure of her survival. After that, she refuses to leave his side.

Maru - She has been ready her whole life, with an actual plan that can be seen through. She already has the best ‘bite-proof’ outfits she could fix together, productive melee weapons, and a map with the best locations to camp out at should it ever be necessary. Of course, she never thought it actually would be, but in some cases it’s always better to be prepared. She isn’t so well trained in understanding the different behaviours of zombies, like Abigail, but quickly learns, and ends up experimenting on the bodies with her father in the lab in an attempt to understand everything there is to know.

Penny - She is small and quiet enough to keep herself hidden well, tucked up safe where it’s unlikely she would ever be found. She is extremely resourceful, using only what is entirely necessary as to not waste anything. She’s not very quick on her feet, but is practically silent when she moves, making it easier for her to escape. Her only downfall is her kind and caring nature, her desire to save others in need.

Sam - All talk and no game (at first). He has an entire zombie strategy, wears that ‘ask my about my zombie plan’ t-shirt, but once the virus hits and things start to crumble in the world, so does his interior. He proper freaks out, he realises he had no idea what he was talking about. It isn’t like what you see in the movies, by Yoba, he is going to die. He only snaps out of it once he hears the cry's of Vincent, and realises he can’t freak out, he needs to protect his family, he needs to be there for them. He trains with Kent to bulk up, and to be efficient in combat, and with weapons. 

Sebastian - Has the brains but not the body. This weedy boy couldn’t take down a zombie with his hands, he would have to make use of a powerful weapon. Fortunately, he was born in the right family, with a strong mother who has muscles for days, and an impressive axe to pair with them. He and Maru would put their disagreements to one side, and work together. This family are the ultimate zombie-fighting team (aka 3 knowledgeable nerds, and badass mumma Robin kicking BUTT).

Shane - His priorities are simple. Save Jas. Do whatever it takes to make sure she is safe, and that she survives. Nothing else matters to him, he doesn’t care whether he lives or dies, if the town burns down, or even if he has to take a life. He realises that he has been selfish towards her, and that she has already lost so much, he couldn’t bear it if she lost her own life as well. She is too small to travel long distances, so he carries her on his back. Sure, he isn’t a particularly speedy man himself, but they manage. He makes sure to tell her stories every night, so that maybe, just maybe, she can forget the calamity going on the world, and just be a kid again, even for a minute