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assassinsblade · 4 months

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Arrows and Ashes

You and Cassian are ambushed when trying to meet with Eris in the Autumn Court. When an interrogation ensues that leaves you permanently scarred, how will Azriel react?

WC: 4.7k

Warnings: Pining, friends to lovers, gross gore, injury, violence, blood, vomit, all that kind of stuff.

Part 2

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Drip. Drip. Drip.

It was damp. From the cold, wet floor to the musty air and your blood-soaked skin.

How long had you and Cassian been here? How long had it been since Autumn soldiers had ambushed you in the woods of the Autumn Court, shooting arrows directing into the war general?

It couldn't have been more than a day. You didn't even think it was night time yet. But it felt like it had been an eternity.

From the interrogations to watching Cassian writhe around in pain due to the faebane arrows protruding from his wings... time continuously ticked slower.

You ached. Your entire body cold with sweat despite your lack of clothing. Dirt and blood coated your skin, and you tried to ignore how uncomfortable it felt against your normally soft flesh. You couldn’t though. You couldn’t ignore the situation you were in. Not when it only seemed to be getting worse, and you had no escape in sight.

You might not make it out of here.

You had left that morning expecting to return home quickly. You had left with a plan to meet Eris Vanserra and return to the House of Wind for a bath, to read a book, to have a nice dinner with friends, and maybe even get to spend time with your mate.

Azriel. You wondered what he was doing right now.

If you focused hard enough, you could almost picture him bursting through the cell door, blue siphons ablaze with power and face molded into an expression of beautiful fury.

But he wasn't here. And you might never see him again.

"Cassian..."

"Don't." He demanded. His voice was cracking with weakness, but he tried to sound resolute. "Rhys is coming."

He didn’t sound convinced, and you could tell that he was worried you were running out of time too. It might not have been long enough for Rhys and the others to be concerned, but it was long enough for the Autumn Court to inflict permanent damage.

You let out a shaky breath, grief already swimming in your chest. Grief for what could have been with you and Azriel if you hadn't been so scared. If you had told him sooner about the bond that had snapped for you. If you hadn't been so focused on him wanting you for you and not the idea of the bond.

“I need you to promise me you'll tell him."

Tears leaked from your eyes, and you tried to hold back your cries. You didn't want your life to end so sadly. You wanted to be able to speak with your friend, pretend like everything was okay, reminisce on the happy times you had with the people you loved.

Instead, you were laying nearly completely bare on a concrete floor, shackled, covered in blood, tears, and vomit. Your body had been taken apart, your skin flayed open, beaten. You thought you must look like an animal on a butcher's board, your body a canvas of gore.

Cassian was not unharmed either. When they had captured the two of you, they had shot him down with faebane arrows: a dozen or two of them. His wings were severely injured, and his power was subdued from the faebane. He had taken beatings as well, but when they realized how well-trained the general had been in withstanding interrogations, they turned to you.

Inflicting damage on your body was a way to get either yourself or Cassian to talk. They taunted him with your pain, and you felt guilty that this would most likely haunt him as much as it haunted you. Would he forgive himself for doing the right thing and protecting his court?

The two of you were on your way to meet with Eris to go over some plans when you were ambushed by Beron's men. Based on their line of questioning, they still did not know of the eldest son's plans of a coup, but they were suspicious of the Night Court presence in their land.

They used the opportunity to not just ask why you were there, but to interrogate you about the new Night Court addition: Nyx. They wanted to know about his powers, how strong he seemed to be, if he can be used as a weapon, how many guards are constantly with him...

But you and Cassian would never betray your family nor your court.

So when Cassian refused to answer, and the whip came down on your torso, you tried to block out his yells, his growls, his apologies. You tried to block out the pain as the leather cleaved into your skin, flaying it open until muscle showed. You focused on what you would do when you got out of here; how you would go to the library with Nesta and pick out new books, how you would go shopping with Mor, how you would go flying with Azriel.

You focused on happy memories with your friends as fists landed on your cheeks, dug into your ribs. As Cassian took blows, you tried to remember the way he'd make you laugh, contorting his groans of pain into his teasing hums and chuckles.

But as you laid in a pool of your own blood, the taunts of the soldiers echoed in your head, and you knew what was coming.

Your wings would be next to go, and with that, so would you.

Despite yourself, you wondered how Azriel would react. If he would mourn you, if it would hurt him as badly as losing him would hurt you. You wondered how Cassian would tell him about the mating bond, if he would have Azriel sit down first, if Rhys would be there for support as well.

"We are getting out of here," Cassian said, voice stronger and more determined. "And you are telling him yourself."

But then the cells were opening, footsteps marching down the hall, and three males were walking toward you with purpose. They gripped you by your forearms, pulling you up harshly, and you closed your eyes and tried to swallow your panic down.

The lacerations on your arms and abdomen from the whip were burning with a vengeance, infection certain to be spreading from the dirt pressed into them on the concrete. The males' hands twisted around your wounds, and you gasped weakly at the pain as they hauled you to your knees.

The shackles were connected to a hook on the wall, lifting your arms slightly, allowing them full access to your back. Your back that they had not whipped, because they were waiting for this.

"Daisy," he called your nickname -- the one given to you by Azriel when you all were only kids. "Look at me. Just look at me, alright? I'm here."

Your whole body was shaking, trembling with fear and anticipation at what was to come. Panic was suffocating you, building in your chest and making its way up your throat, and you thought your bladder might have even released with how petrified you were.

Cassian's voice was still echoing in the background, but you could only focus on the clanging of chains, the footsteps behind you, the sound of a sword unsheathing.

Your fingers dug into the shackles, fingers white with how hard you were gripping them, trying to steel yourself for what was to come.

"Lord of Bloodshed..." one of the males taunted, spinning the sword around in his hand. "I think you know what this is for."

You drowned out the male's voice. His nasally, grating, voice that seemed to irritate your ears. You drowned out the words that would doom you, focusing instead on listening to your own breathing and heart beat.

You were alive. You were strong.

There was silence after a while, and you squeezed your eyes shut, gritted your teeth, tried not to sob.

“I’m sorry, Daisy,” Cassian cried.

You tried to suck in a breath, tried not to let his protection of his nephew, his protection of his brother, of his court, hurt you. But the sword came down, and your lungs were not yet filled with air.

You couldn’t breathe, you couldn’t breathe, you couldn’t breathe.

It was like your limb was being torn from your body, nerve endings flaying open, on fire, agony coursing through your veins and sending a shock through your body all the way to your head.

You thought you might have made a noise, but you couldn’t hear over the ringing in your ears, and your chest seemed stuck.

Blood splattered across the wall as he pulled the sword out of your wing. It hadn’t gone all the way through; instead, it had gotten stuck in one of the lines of thick membrane, and you gagged when he pulled it from where it had stopped, tissue separating with the motion.

It came down again, a hacking motion, unclean and barbarous, dragging through tendons and nerves.

You had never been in so much pain before. You thought you might be going into shock, your body shaking, stomach nauseous, vision going fuzzy, ears ringing with white noise.

You were only semi-aware of the burning coming up your throat, of the smell of your own vomit.

Cassian’s voice was muffled, drowned out in your mind, but you could hear the sorrow, the panic, the guilt.

Your hands were limp in the shackles, body slumped forward into the wall when the first wing fell to the floor with a thump.

You thought you heard Cassian retching.

And when the sword came down toward the second wing, your adrenaline now out of your system, you couldn’t help the piercing scream that echoed off the walls. You screamed and sobbed and shook until the hacking broke through the second wing too, slicing and grinding it to the floor.

Your entire body was covered in sweat. Cheek pressed to the wall, arms hung above your head but body hanging limp. You tried to stay conscious. You tried to focus on the sounds of Cassian’s sobs, the way he called your name and tried to get your attention. You tried to blink the dizziness away, tried to focus on the blood pooling around you into a large circle.

But everything ached and stung.

As the shackles were released from the wall, weight now imbalanced, your body didn’t even know which way to fall.

You landed in a puddle of your own blood, urine, vomit, and tears. But you were too tired to move, too hurt to move. So you laid there, cheek pressed into the sticky, hot, red liquid, and watched as your friend begged you to stay awake.

Breath stuttering in your chest, blood wavering in front of your mouth with each heave, you reached a hand out to your friend. Just barely. With only enough strength to inch your fingers forward, your body twitching with pain and exertion, you made the motion, tried to communicate that you did not blame him, that you understood, even if your chest ached with hurt.

And then you were going in and out of darkness.

There were times you could hear voices, ones you recognized. Other times it was peacefully quiet. You tried to bask in those moments, where there was no pain or noise—only you and your mind. Where you could pretend like everything was fine and you and Cassian had never left for the Autumn Court early that morning. Or that you had met with Eris as planned, gotten the intel you needed, and returned in time for supper.

But those voices would interrupt your peaceful state, arguing and panicking.

You’d hear glimpses.

You make one wrong touch and you’re dead.

Big threats from a bedridden brute.

You were only brought back to full consciousness briefly when you felt a searing hot pain in your back, pulling you from your sleep gasping for air.

You were on fire, dear gods, you were burning alive.

And then Cassian was in your eyesight, his hazel eyes shining with concern. His hand reached out to cradle your head where it laid atop a pillow, the other stretched across the tops of your shoulders to keep you held down onto the table.

“I know, I know,” he reassured quickly. “It’s okay. It’ll be over soon. You’re okay.”

But you didn’t believe him. How could you be okay when you felt like this? When you didn't even understand what was happening?

You were choking on your own cries, on the tears and drool pooling in your mouth. Cassian tried to wipe them away, leaning down and pressing a kiss to your forehead, whispering encouraging words into your ear.

Your fingers grasped at the wood underneath you, your legs kicking at an invisible weight holding your lower half down.

“Please-“ your voice shook as your body trembled. “Stop.”

You could feel yourself losing consciousness again, your vision going spotty, the pain too much for your weak, shocked body to handle.

“Eris…” Cassian warned, his tone threatening.

“Do you want her to live?”

You didn’t think you would live past this though. This was unbearable. Pure hot torture raging across the skin of your back and melting the muscle, nerves, and bone.

Distantly, you realized what they were doing. They were cauterizing the wounds. Burning the flesh to stop the bleeding, to give you a chance at healing before it was too late.

Mouth dry, your voice gave out, and you let out hoarse squeaks of pain.

It could have been sixty seconds or five minutes, but it felt like an eternity before the weight on your legs shifted, and the fire edged away.

Your lashes and cheeks were wet with your tears, tongue bitten in your screaming. And as you tried to breathe again, tried to focus on Cassian’s voice as he addressed Eris, on his hand stroking your hair back, you thought of where you could be. If you were actually going to make it back to the Night Court, if you were actually going to survive this.

Gruesome lashes ached on your legs, abdomen, and arms. The weightlessness at your back paired with the smell of burnt flesh brought an image of barbecue to your brain that had you gagging again.

You might survive, but your body wouldn’t. This was no longer you, no longer the body you would have willingly given to Azriel, with the glowing bond in its chest he remained unaware about.

It was hacked and burnt and damaged and-

“We’re gonna get you home,” you heard Cassian speaking softly to you.

Eris moved around in the background, gathering and packing up supplies in another room of whatever isolated home he had brought you to. You never thought you’d be so grateful to see the auburn-haired male, or that he’d actually put his ass on the line to save you, but here he was.

Had he heard you were captured upon your missed meeting? Did he release you himself?

You knew he would have to find a way to explain how you two got out from the cells. It would most likely end in some form of physical abuse toward him from Beron. The thought made your stomach turn with more sorrow and guilt.

“Eris sent a letter to Rhys. He knows where we are, and he’ll be here soon.”

You let the words comfort you, your eyes fluttering shut and muscles trying to relax after being attacked.

A sharp pain separate from the physical torture you endured burned in your heart, though, as you realized how everything was going to change. Your wings were gone. They took your wings, and with it any happiness or confidence you had felt.

You felt tears swim in your vision, your eyes so exhausted you could barely keep them open enough for the liquid to fall down your cheeks. Cassian immediately wiped them away with his thumb, his brow scrunched in concern as he watched you.

“My wings-” your voice wobbled, and Cassian immediately brought his head to yours in a makeshift hug.

“I know,” he tried to soothe, his voice pinched with sympathy. “I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry, Daisy.”

Eris appeared once again, carrying a blanket and what looked like a loose nightgown. You only then realized how bare you still were from the dungeon and your injuries.

“Here,” the usually cold Autumn lord set the clothes to the side, pulling the blanket out instead. He draped it across your body, adjusting it so it covered from your shoulders to your toes. Cassian gave him a somewhat surprised and suspicious glance, but nonetheless nodded his head at the male gratefully.

“Rhys responded and should be here any minute. The wards are open to him. I assume he is collecting his own healer-”

Eris didn’t even have a chance to finish before shadows materialized in the corner of the room, an intimidating presence taking up the space and charging for the auburn-haired male.

“What the hell did you do?”

“Azriel-” Cassian jumped to his feet, pulling the shadowsinger back. Azriel’s eyes remained locked on the Autumn Court heir, though, his eyes promising a pain he knew all too well how to deliver. “He got us out. We got caught, and he helped us. Without him, she'd be dead.”

Azriel swallowed harshly, body tense with anger. He seemed to take the moment to consider the words, to consider if he believed in their truth. Ultimately, he dropped his hands and turned toward where you laid.

His face crumpled, all anger and drive deflating into devastation.

Feet carrying him over to you, he fell to his knees in the same spot Cassian had just occupied.

“Oh gods…” he breathed, shaking hand coming to rest against your cheek.

You tried to blink up at him, but your vision was still slightly blurred. You could still see the concern in his eyes, though. The way the green and brown melded together with worry and care, sparking the gold tether in your chest alive.

“My sweet Daisy,” he muttered to himself. “What have they done to you?”

Daisy. The nickname was sweet on his lips, sweet as the day he labeled you as his flower. The young boy who had taken a look at the young Illyrian female ravaging her horrible family's garden in a rage and had endearingly called her Daisy. Had compared her to the pretty life that could grow in a horrible place, in horrible soil that kept preventing her from sprouting.

You didn't know what to tell him. Your body still shook with pain, adrenaline, and shock.

You heard Rhys arrive, heard Cassian and Eris explaining what had occurred to the high lord and his healer. You heard Madja curse at the arrow wounds in Cassian's wings, and Cassian insist she help you first.

"You're going to be okay," Azriel placed a soft kiss to your fingertips peeking out from the top of the blanket. "And I am going to make them pay. They are going to regret ever touching you."

You tried to focus on his pretty eyes, his dark eyelashes highlighting the light hazel. He looked so worried, so hurt himself.

Shuffling behind you made your breath hitch, and then the blanket was being moved down your back, exposing your wounds to the cold air.

You winced, a sound you would equate to a wounded animal echoing into the solemn room. Azriel’s hand gripped your own, eyes watching your reaction intently.

But you watched as his eyes moved from your own to glance at what everyone else was seeing—what Madja was here to work on. His face immediately paled, his jaw clenching tight, and his fingers digging into your own.

Did it look as bad as it felt?

You wondered if someone would be able to find you beautiful after this. If Azriel would be able to look at your skin and see a pretty female and not someone who had been put through a meat grinder.

He swallowed harshly, ripping his eyes away from your back and locking onto your own again.

His chest was rising and falling heavily, as if he was trying to contain himself, reign himself in from exploding.

“I didn’t tell them,” you finally spoke. Your voice was hoarse from screaming and throwing up, and dry from lack of water.

Azriel looked as if you had hit him, and you heard Rhys immediately come to your side next to the shadowsinger. He knelt down and placed a kiss to the sweaty skin at your temple, stroking your hair lovingly before looking at you sternly.

“All we care about right now is that our friend is alive and safe. Don’t worry about anything else right now. I’m not.”

“They wanted Nyx,” you croaked.

Rhysand looked haunted but not surprised. “Cassian told me. We will figure it out and plan for the worst.”

You didn’t answer the high lord, focusing on your breathing as Madja began skimming her hands over the gouges in your back.

Violet eyes met your own, and the hazel eyes next to him watched the healer’s actions with intensity. “I will never be able to repay the price you paid to keep my family safe. I am forever indebted to you.”

Tears fell down Rhys’ cheeks, and you wished you could hug him, the male you think of as a brother. But then you thought of how odd that would feel for you—for him—to hug without your wings.

You remembered his story of being captured during the war. How he said he went through endless abuse and torture, but they didn't touch his wings. He had said that touching them would have been the one way to get him to talk.

But you didn't.

“I’d do it again-” you began to say, but you were cut off by Madja’s actions, a piercing pain shooting through you. You gasped, eyes squeezing shut and hand clamping down on Azriel’s.

“Rhys.” Azriel demanded. What he was demanding, you weren’t sure. But his voice was firm, strong, a tone you hadn’t heard him use before with his brother.

Rhys seemed to understand though, because he stood and walked a few steps to the top of your head, putting a hand there.

“Can I take some of your pain away?” He asked gently, voice still strained from the emotions he showed.

You could barely give a nod of your head with how badly your muscles were tensed in agony. But he saw it, and as you felt the mental talons drag along the walls of your mind, your tear-filled eyes met Azriel’s.

“I’m so proud of you,” the shadowsinger said, eyes gleaming with sorrow. “My strong Daisy. My brave, brave girl.”

And with some of the pain gone—there, but now slightly more bearable as the healer worked—you could breathe a bit easier.

Azriel continued speaking to you, distracting you from the work going on around your body. “Before you know it, we’ll be back in Velaris. We can go to that bookstore you like and pick out as many books as you want. I’ll read one with you, if you want. Even one of those romances you like so much.”

He tried to give you a soft smile, but it looked sad, and it made your heart hurt.

A rough twist near your back and a sob escaped your mouth. Rhys’ energy swarmed stronger in your mind, and Azriel was quick to lean forward, face inches from your own, eyes drowning in fear and worry.

“I’ve got you,” he repeated, voice heavy with panic. “Just focus on me. I know it hurts, but we’ve gotta do it. You’re almost done, sweetheart. Just hold on a bit longer.”

Your cries were becoming louder and you could hear Azriel cursing, could see through your tears the way he tipped his head up to look at Rhys in desperation.

“Can we put her to sleep?” He asked toward the healer, and if you didn’t know what he asked, the sound of his voice would have made you think he was begging.

It was silent for a moment, and you could feel Azriel’s hands start shaking around your limp one in his grasp.

Madja finally responded, sounding grim. “She’s lost a lot of blood. I don’t want to risk it.”

“What can I do?” Azriel pleaded toward the healer.

You tried to control your sobs, control the way your body convulsed at the touches of the healer behind you. But it was excruciating, the lack of wings, the deep tendons, muscles, bones, and nerves ripped from your skin and haphazardly cauterized despite possible infection. And now to try to fix the rushed burns, to check for infection and draw it out...

“Keep her awake.”

Azriel’s head dipped down for a moment, either in sorrow or in order to compose himself. But then he was looking at you, so lovely and beautiful you nearly felt like you were dreaming.

And he tried to sound positive, his voice going up a bit to sound lighter, but it was strained and not entirely convincing.

“I found that cat you have been following around Velaris. The stray that tries to sneak into the coffee shop? I guess some of the customers feed him. They call him Bix, and he lives under the porch of the place.”

Your vision swims as you try to pay attention to what he is saying, and his fingers lightly tap your cheek.

“I'll take you to visit him soon. Okay? I'll even pet him this time."

You tried to smile at the image of the stoic shadowhunter holding a cute stray cat, but even the muscles in your face felt heavy and lethargic.

"Maybe we can get you a cat," he continued when he saw you listening. "I know you’ve always wanted one. And Rhys would probably give you fifty now if you asked.”

His voice was soothing, and the more he spoke, the more you wanted to sleep. His presence was like a balm to the last ten hours, the scent of him, the feel of his hand in yours, the sound of his voice in your ear, all reminded you that you were safe again.

Rhys’ power rushed through you, and you could feel your body start to go numb, the pain ebbing away thanks to your friend and high lord.

Now you were just tired. So so tired.

“Hey-” Azriel sat up a little straighter, the movement pulling your eyelids open once more. “You gotta stay awake, sweetheart. You can sleep soon, I promise. Just not yet.”

But you could barely hear him. Your mind was already falling, vision warping into a blurry vignette.

Azriel was here. You were safe.

“Madja-” Azriel's voice became more frantic as he watched you start to fade. In a panic, he stood from his position at your side and gripped your face in both his palms.

His fingertips were gentle on your face as they lightly tapped, trying to get your attention without hurting you. When you didn’t respond, your heavy eyelids beginning to succumb to sleep, he began to tap a little harder, his strong hands trying to pull you back up.

The last thing you heard before finally allowing a pain free and peaceful rest to overtake you was Azriel pleading your name, a shuffle of two bodies, and then his touch being gone, his deep voice suspended in the room instead—a darkness trailing underneath it that would have had you on your knees if not for you floating into unconsciousness.

“Prepare for a war, Rhysand. Because if she doesn’t wake up, I will slaughter every last member of the Autumn Court.”

Before darkness enveloped you, you briefly wondered if their bodies would look like your own when he was finished.

#acotar x reader #acotar fic #azriel x reader #azriel angst #azriel x you #azriel fluff

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raeathnos · 11 months

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#also! finally getting my tubes out 😁#after being told no by two doctors #just waiting for them to call to schedule it #I’m like so fucking relieved #I have never wanted kids at any point in my life and I’m trying to be responsible and get rid of the chance of that ever happening #and every doctor is just ‘I know you’ve never wanted kids and have a medical condition that makes pregnancy very dangerous but…’#like I’m not changing my mind! ever! and then it’s always ‘oh what about your husband?’#he doesn’t want them either and I made it very clear when we were dating that wanting kids was a deal breaker for me #like omg #this doctor is so chill she’s just like hell yeah when you wanna do it?#no questions asked no trying to guilt me about it #was great #also she’s being rad and gonna remove any endometriosis she finds while she’s digging around in there #so yay less pain in general #gotta make the appointment still- I’m waiting for them to call- and I gonna do it after summer so I can swim #but fucking relief #it’s scary having a uterus with roe v wade gone #I’m in a purple state 🙃 trying to move to a blue #I have this fear that now that abortion is no longer protected they’re gonna attack birth control next #and I feel like it’s not a stretch to think they might go after having your tubes removed too #another friend already got it done cause she was worried about the same thing #times are scary #trying to take control of the situation before things get any worse #I’ve heard some insurances in florida aren’t covering bc because that counts as ‘gender affirming care’ even if the person is cis #which fucking scary #which is why I’m doing this now rather than waiting for things to get worse

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reasonsforhope · 11 months

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For years, the people of the Kitasoo/Xai’xais First Nation watched over their waters and waited. They had spent nearly two decades working with Canada’s federal government to negotiate protections for Kitasu Bay, an area off the coast of British Columbia that was vulnerable to overfishing.

But the discussions never seemed to go anywhere. First, they broke down over pushback from the fishing industry, then over a planned oil tanker route directly through Kitasoo/Xai’xais waters.

“We were getting really frustrated with the federal government. They kept jumping onboard and then pulling out,” says Douglas Neasloss, the chief councillor and resource stewardship director of the Kitasoo/Xai’xais First Nation. “Meanwhile, we’d been involved in marine planning for 20 years – and we still had no protected areas.”

Instead, the nation watched as commercial overfishing decimated the fish populations its people had relied on for thousands of years.

Nestled on the west coast of Swindle Island, approximately 500km north of Vancouver, Kitasu Bay is home to a rich array of marine life: urchins and abalone populate the intertidal pools, salmon swim in the streams and halibut take shelter in the deep waters. In March, herring return to spawn in the eelgrass meadows and kelp forests, nourishing humpback whales, eagles, wolves and bears.

“Kitasu Bay is the most important area for the community – that’s where we get all of our food,” Neasloss says. “It’s one of the last areas where you still get a decent spawn of herring.”

So in December 2021, when the Department of Fisheries and Oceans withdrew from discussions once again, the nation decided to act. “My community basically said, ‘We’re tired of waiting. Let’s take it upon ourselves to do something about it,’” Neasloss says.

What they did was unilaterally declare the creation of a new marine protected area (MPA). In June 2022, the nation set aside 33.5 sq km near Laredo Sound as the new Gitdisdzu Lugyeks (Kitasu Bay) MPA – closing the waters of the bay to commercial and sport fishing.

It is a largely unprecedented move. While other marine protected areas in Canada fall under the protection of the federal government through the Oceans Act, Kitasu Bay is the first to be declared under Indigenous law, under the jurisdiction and authority of the Kitasoo/Xai’xais First Nation.

Pictured: "In some ways, I hope someone challenges us" … the Kitasoo/Xai’xais stewardship authority.

Although they did not wait for government approval, the Kitasoo did consult extensively: the declaration was accompanied by a draft management plan, finalised in October after three months of consultation with industry and community stakeholders. But the government did not provide feedback during that period, according to Neasloss, beyond an acknowledgment that it had received the plan...

Approximately 95% of British Columbia is unceded: most First Nations in the province of British Columbia never signed treaties giving up ownership of their lands and waters to the crown. This puts them in a unique position to assert their rights and title, according to Neasloss, who hopes other First Nations will be inspired to take a similarly proactive approach to conservation...

Collaboration remains the goal, and Neasloss points to a landmark agreement between the Haida nation and the government in 1988 to partner in conserving the Gwaii Haanas archipelago, despite both parties asserting their sovereignty over it. A similar deal was made in 2010 for the region’s 3,400 sq km Gwaii Haanas national marine conservation area.

“They found a way to work together, which is pretty exciting,” says Neasloss. “And I think there may be more Indigenous protected areas that are overlaid with something else.”

-via The Guardian, 5/3/23

#indigenous #indigenous issues #indigenous sovereignty #canada #british columbia #land back #first nations #tribal sovereignty #pacific northwest #marine protected area #conservation #sustainability #overfishing #marine science #canadian government #kitasoo-xai'xais #direct action #good news #hope

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deadghosy · 2 months

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Since your stuck I decided to help you out with the power of creativity!

How would characters of Hazbin Hotel react to Swan/Duck reader it's branching from penguin reader with how she got stuck in hell for a while

The power mainly focuses on them flying and wind magic ect!

REMINDER: REQUESTS ARE CLOSED‼️

HAZBIN HOTEL X DUCK! READER

Warning: yandere themes.

prompt: a common mistake made your life eventual as people started to fawn over you

You were supposed to be in heaven…BUT NOOOO, they sent you to hell because they mistook you for someone else. They could’ve just said they were full like a night club…

So now you are in a pond swimming around peacefully. But there’s always a man with a hat and an apple cane that comes to see you literally everyday. You don’t know who he is, but he got attached badly. He would bring bread and show you rubber ducks with an awkward smile.

You just go over to him and eat the bread. You never learned how to talk since birth since your mother abused you. Being jealous of your pure soul and natural beauty. She always told you to shush. Making the sour taste in your mouth sting to never talk.

Eventually the man introduced himself as Lucifer, that’s when it hit you that this man was the first fallen angel, and king of hell. He must have seen your eyes widen in shock. “You can understand me?” He asked you as he scratched under your beak making you lean in his touch. You nodded as he smiles showing his sharp teeth.

“That’s even bettter.” He said

Two days after that, you were literally sleeping when you woke up to feel two hands pick you up, it was Lucifer who cooed at your drowsy face as he takes you to a hotel. Were you finally getting a place to stay instead of outside?

“Listen, my daughter has a dream…to redeem sinners…I wanna believe in her, but our people chose to make hell this way.” He says with a somber look. He took you inside to see basically a female version of Lucifer but more cheery looking as she gasped at you. “Dad? Is that the duck you’ve been talking about?! Aww they’re soooo cute!” She says as she holds you.

And that’s your story of how now you are basically part of the hotel’s family.

I imagine you just getting prince/princess treatment everyday from the hotel and Lucifer himself as he literally trims your duck fur as you just sit there on a fancy ass pillow.

I headcannon that angel dust buys you shades a lot because your yellow/white feathers is so majestic, he just had to make you even more bad ass.

Angel dust loves how high headed you are, not letting anyone tear you down even with a word. He admires you, so he wants you to admire him as well.

I headcannon for you to deadass have an attitude when bothered. Literally Alastor wanted to see what was so special about you. And so he woke you up from your beauty sleep making you go haywire on him.

You pecked him as he tried to hit you, possibly trying to injure you only to injure himself as he came out pissed off with a smile. He definitely spit out a feather as you quacked out a laugh as if this shit was looney tunes.

Charlie always rants to you about her days and how her and vaggie’s relationship is going. Charlie was notified by her father that you can understand her. She doubted it at first, but when you actually nodded she gasped shocked with stars in her eyes.

You and Charlie grew close…to the point she was almost like her father. Constantly checking up on you, feeding you. Watching you. You tried to push it off…but it was kinda unsettling.

You could obviously fly, which you do around the hotel to spread your wings. But when you fly you have a glowing yellow light around you.

I can see you just chilling at the bar as residents come in and out as you just get petted as husk grumbles a little and also pets you. Husk was immediately enchanted by your soft duck feathers

You love to make small tornados at sinners who cause trouble in the hotel. You are the hotel’s duck, so you must at least protect the guests at least.

Vaggie is the one to always make sure to research what ducks eat before making sure you can eat them. She likes how you make everyone feel fuzzy and warm inside. Even her.

You damn well hated that you died into a duck body..but it felt nice knowing that you couldn’t just live the possible human or at least whatever you are. Demon or angel. You could possibly be in a pond sleeping and eating bread all damn day.

I imagine Sir Pentious had put a top hat on you that’s similar like the ones his egg boiz wear. So he loves to have you around when he builds things.

You doze off like this and it’s so cute to the point they will record and take a picture of you. (If you don’t wanna click link, it’s a duck nodding its head off until it goes limp since the duck is tired)

I headcannon Alastor to hate you at first and want to cook you for duck stew, but then he falls in love with how entertaining and smart you are. You technically aren’t just a mere duck.

I can see you just making small hurricanes in your bath tub when niffty has to wash you. You once accidentally splashed her. But she chuckled splashing you.

A sinner once tried to take you from the hotel’s pond that Lucifer made for you only be found 30 secs later taking you.

“WHO DO YOU THINK YOU ARE TOUCHING MY DUCKLING?!” Lucifer yells angrily at the sinner who got knocked flat on their ass. His demon form was coming out as fire spits out his mouth when he huffed.

You did a comedic side eye at Lucifer who was acting possessive as hell itself. You didn’t even know what to do as this man kept holding you like a pet duck you seen fat white men do in the streets.

The sinner didn’t live after that.

I can see husk just petting you softly and then eventually just falling asleep on your body. Like his head is on your body as you just watch hell tv as he snores. Oddly comfortable in your soft feathers.

You literally waddle around the hotel wearing a cute scarf with your favorite color. Alastor oddly knitted it for you like a old grandma to their grandchild 😭

I imagine you just side eyeing Lucifer as he suddenly had the urge to read more information about ducks and how their eggs look. So imagine how Lucifer would act if you pregnant. But the thing is, you rather die then be in pain in birth.

Lucifer makes you a lot of blue things to remind you of a pond since that was the place you chill in a lot. It was to the poke Charlie and Lucifer nodded to make you a pond in the backside of the hotel. It’s your little chill haven.

You felt pissy one day because your feathers were molting..so the wind outside was heavy cause your feathers were just falling and you hated it. You felt insecure but the crew felt your feelings and started to cheer you up. Soon or later, your new feathers came back quickly.

The Vee’s had definitely notice your presence since you first came here. I mean who the hell looks like a damn duck down here with pure beautiful feathers that remind them of so called heaven.

I can see the Vee’s and you having the relationship where it’s basically like team rocket and pikachu type troupe. 😭 they always fail trying to kidnap you because you literally put out ducks that look like you and they fall for it, EVERY SINGLE TIME-

I headcannon you have a ribbon your favorite color wrapped around your neck like a bow or collar with your name on it❤️

Vox had literally set his drone to spy on you as he watches with a sick grin at how adorable and elegant you looked just swimming in your sweet pond and how you just outsmart Alastor.

Imagine how badass you are to suddenly turn big in size because the hotel was being threatened. So you literally grew in a size of the hotel building and flapped your wings to fly them bitches to who knows nowhere.

If you were on the same branch, you would definitely be the older sister of penguin! Reader if it was lore type shit 😭 you don’t play no games about your emotions as you are always observing

LOL IMAGINE YOU WADDLING TO GO TO THE BATHROOM LIKE A HUMAN AND THE EGG BOIZ JUST FOLLOW AFTER YOU AS IF YOU WERE THEIR MOTHER-

The Vee’s definitely sneak on you by Vox’s drone that swarms around your pond without your knowledge.

Velvette literally sends you nice outfits your size. Literally cute outfits where the holes are for your wings so you can fly and look drippy as hell.

See I could definitely imagine you sneaking out the hotel to just get hooked up with your new outfit stylist which is Velvette now.

Vox

Imagine how cold the state duck! Reader has (hear me out, edit audio type shit starts playing-)

I can see you just swimming and Lucifer takes a picture of you, admiring your beauty in place as you just flock around your damn pond. “That’s my baby….” He says wiping a dramatic tear from his eyes.

Valentino. Now I won’t say he would be obsessed romantically but more platonically as he would love for you to be part of his life as his pet only. Like an actual pet he would take care of.

I headcannon Alastor actually tried to feed you some bread…and you accepted it making Alastor smile wildly at how you trusted him getting close to you for one.

Lmao you literally did some Wingardium Leviosa ass shit on someone because you didn’t like how they looked at you 😭

You literally are so coddled and spoiled…it was to the point you would be walking or more like waddling down the damn streets alone and people would aw at your beauty and gracious. It’s overwhelming, but at least you know people won’t fuck with you.

But people just never learnt to keep their hands off of a beautiful creature.

Once Adam got sent down to find an angel that was suppose to be in heaven. He didn’t except for you to be a fuckin duck. So he laughed and took you up with ease as you quacked furiously, trying to get at least someone’s attention.

It was too late as Lucifer sees you get flown up into the heaven portal. Lucifer dropped the tray of lemonade in shock to see his beloved flying into the portal. Lucifer felt his heart squeeze knowing that the bastard knew he couldn’t get into heaven.

Lucifer quickly spout out his wings and fly sharply towards adam’s fading figure. Adam snickers seeing Lucifer’s anger in his glowing red eyes. He turned around and waved you around to taunt Lucifer as you had a “I don’t have time for this…” face. Literally you pecked Adam’s face and hands making Adam spazz out and throw you at Lucifer’s face.

“FINE! TAKE YOUR DUMB ASS DUCK!” Adam yells as he flies off grumbling about making you into duck stew

So Lucifer was happy with a derpy expression and calmed down holding you. He got even more protective as he makes sure you are watched 24/7. He wanted to give you freedom…but after that stunt Adam did. He’s not letting anyone touch you without his permission. Of course his daughter can though!

But what if Adam had succeeded in his capture of you, things would be most likely how it was in hell….just more clean and healthy.

St. Peter definitely greeted you with a warm smile as you didn’t….you didn’t like how he just sassed you and let you fall to hell. So of course it was rocky, but soon or later you two got along since he brides you with bread. He soon gets obsessed with how you get so trusting over things. He uses that to his advantages.

Sera greets you with open arms, literally as she picks you up. Cooing at your pure yellow/white feathers that matches the aesthetic of heaven. You match perfectly here as your angel form is two pair of wings. Your normal duck wings and angel wings. You are the most beautiful angel she ever met and laid eyes on as she shows you around heaven. Every part and area of it. This shall be your new home.

Emily won’t be a crazyyy person over you. As I can see her being a light hearted person who doesn’t love bomb you in a manipulative manner but only wants to be your friend in a loving way. She finds you amazing at how smart and caring you are towards her as you visit her and she visits you back. She brings you every bread know to man and heaven as she noticed you like bread. You and her are clearly amazing friends to each other.

The Angels adore your every movement as if you were also a god/godesss. You were confused at this attention. It was way more overwhelming when you were in hell with the others. Just like how the penguin! Reader was, you made a social media account and half of heaven followed you. It was an insane amount of followers that you didn’t mean to have. But the angels love to greet you as you fly/walk by. With you being so graceful here, who wouldn’t say you belonged here.

Adam most definitely is possessive and always manipulates you into thinking he is superior. He forces himself to be your caretaker, he literally makes you stay in his place all day and all time watched over. He feels the need to control your very bidding and movement as this dickhead degrades you to make you feel useless. It sometimes works, but sometimes doesn’t.

Lute is a controlling person who sees your intelligence as a threat as she wants to break you into her clasp. She’s the second most controlling than Adam. But she’s an overwhelming controlling as she wants you you to see her as your protector and person you can be dependent on at all times. She wants you to be able to tell her everything you know so she can just please you.

Adam finds it amusing at how you got use it heaven so quick despite this new attention. You literally sit on his lap napping as he lounges on the couch. Basically watching sports or whatever.

You can’t help but think, “why am I even surprised.”

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wachinyeya · 4 months

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Joel Jackson, the president of the Organized Village of Kake, a tribal community, has lived within the Tongass National Forest in Alaska his entire life. His community relies on the land for hunting deer and fishing salmon that swim in streams kept cold by the old-growth forest.

But the 66-year-old worried about damage to that land - the largest national forest in the US - after former President Donald Trump rescinded a measure blocking logging and road-building on nine million acres of land in the Tongass in 2020.

"The forest is key to our survival as a people, to our way of life … for thousands of years," Mr Jackson said.

Last week marked a long-awaited victory for Mr Jackson and other tribes and environmental groups who petitioned the US Department of Agriculture (USDA) to reinstate the protections for the forest.

The agency announced last Wednesday it would once again ban logging and the construction of roads for cutting timber in over half of the Tongass.

#alaska #good news #give the land back #that will protect it better than a ban that can be reinsinced by the next president #but hey #good news is good news #tongassnationalforest #tongass #Organized Village of Kake #indigenous people #first nations

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wife-of-all-dilfs · 5 months

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Hii! I love love love all of your finnick fics! Could I please request a fic where reader is also a victor from an earlier game and she is in an established relationship with Finnick. They both get reaped (not the same district) for the 75th games and reader gets critically hurt in the part where the cornucopia spins. Like she falls into the water after maybe being injured and she can’t swim, so Finnick has to risk everything to save her life.

I’m really looking for like a hurt/comfort with a seriously injured reader and Finnick going through hell to save her because he cannot imagine a life without her in it.

Thank you so much if you’re willing to write this or something like it, feel free of course to change anything to your liking!

two souls, one heart | f. odair

masterlist

summary: finnick refuses to lose the love of his life. your inability to swim complicates things, especially when the cornucopia begins spinning.

pairing: finnick odair x fem!reader

warnings: pre-established relationship, heavy angst, drowning, death, bone fracture

notes: thank you so much!!! i really enjoyed writing this, shed a few tears but still enjoyed it lmao. listen to 'beginning of the end movement v' by the newton brothers on repeat for the full experience <3

A quiet nursery rhyme was being sung by the water's edge.

The calm waves around the Cornucopia lapped at the rocks, the blistering sun causing the surface to sparkle. Wiress' voice interrupted Peeta as he mapped out the arena's clock-like wedges in the dirt. Everyone was focused on the map; you should have been too.

Dark blue ripples had your eyes captivated. So tranquil. So hauntingly beautiful. Loving the sea was in your blood, as your District Four was your home. You would think coming from a fishing district would mean your swimming abilities were mastered. In reality, they were practically non-existent. No matter how many times Finnick had attempted to give you lessons, they never stuck.

Neither of you seemed to care though, always too enraptured by simply being in each other's company—feeling Finnick's hands support your body as you floated on the surface...

"Don't you let go of me, Finnick Odair, or I swear to god I'll drown you."

"Will that be before or after you drown first?" he chuckled, though ultimately tightening his grip on your body in an attempt to reassure you.

....hysterically laughing when he got wiped out by a sudden wave...

"No way! I can't—" You broke into a fit of laughter— "I can't believe that just happened!"

"Are you laughing at me, sweetheart?" Finnick asked, trudging through the water towards you, his hair drenched and swept across his forehead.

"Yes!"

You doubled over, knees buckling as you struggled to contain your laughter. Despite trying to put up a serious front, Finnick too let a few chuckles slip at the hysterical sight of you.

"Oh really?"

Just like that, his arms wrapped around your waist and pulled you down into the cold water, earning him a squeal just before you crashed together below the surface.

...and washing up on the sandy shore in each other's arms, salty lips capturing one another.

"I'm covered in sand," you murmured against Finnick's lips.

He gave you another kiss before pulling away. "It's okay," he said, pecking your lips again. "I'll help you wash off in the shower when we get back." And then sent you a stomach-flipping grin.

Even though you wouldn't trade those memories for the world, if you had known your life would soon depend on the ability to swim, you would have paid much more attention to the lessons.

Finnick stood closely beside you, his trident digging into the dirt as he gripped it tightly in case of an attack. He had noticed your drifted attention, observing the way your eyes stared at the rippling water, like death was lurking just beneath the surface waiting to drag you down to the murky depths.

He could protect you from most things in the arena, but fear was something entirely different. A trident couldn't defeat the darkness in your mind.

A hand slid onto your lower back, rubbing gentle strokes to gain your attention. Your gaze tore from the blinding blue and settled onto Finnick's face beside you, watching his mouth curve into a light smile. You knew the silent words he was trying to convey: 'You're okay, sweetheart. I've got you.'

For a fleeting moment, the anxiety had disappeared. How could anything ever go wrong with Finnick by your side? The corners of your mouth quirked, preparing to send him a smile in response. But it never came. Something new had caught your attention. The woman by the water was no longer singing.

Wiress had been murdered.

The second Katniss let her arrow fly into Gloss' chest, everything around you seemed to explode into action. Anything that could go wrong would go wrong—Murphy's Law. And it did.

The Careers had initiated an attack.

Charging forward from the waterside was Cashmere, determined to avenge her brother's death. Instinct quickly kicked in and the spear in your hand was sent barrelling through the air and into her chest. As you watched her body slump to the ground, an enraged yell came from the side.

Finnick was fighting Brutus.

With your only weapon lodged within Cashmere's chest, aiding Finnick was impossible. Enobaria revealed herself beside Brutus, displaying her vicious fangs and throwing a dagger that sliced a small cut across Finnick's shoulder. Though the wound was minor, your heart lurched as he cried out in pain.

Before a single thought in your brain could form, your legs were moving. Not towards Finnick, but after Enobaria. Remember who the real enemy is—screw that. Finnick could have died. Your Finnick. He called out your name, his voice hoarse and frayed, but you continued on, hatred fuelling each step. It seemed Katniss and Johanna had the same idea, following behind you with their weapons bared.

Salt water sprayed onto your face, but you paid it no attention. Nor did you notice as the jungle surrounding the island began to blur into one overwhelming hue of green. Only when your body was thrown to the harsh rocky terrain did you realise what was happening.

The Cornucopia had started to spin.

Nothing could compare to the terror you felt as gravity's merciless force dragged your body toward the violent waves surging against the rocks. Just as your lower legs breached the edge, a hand grabbed onto your own. Katniss. She too was hanging onto Johanna whose only lifeline was an axe buried in the rocks.

A moment—that was all you were given to scan your surroundings. Supplies and sharp-edged weapons were flying everywhere. White water was spraying into the air. Finnick, who was thirty feet away, was gripping onto a rock ledge whilst keeping Beetee from sliding into the furious waves. His head turned to the side and even from a great distance, your eyes met.

It was at that moment you knew, you just knew the odds weren't going to be in your favour. God forbid you lived a simple happy life with the man you loved, days spent together on a calm beach. God forbid the Gamemakers gave you one last chance to be in his arms. God forbid you survived.

And with that sudden realisation, the universe, sick as it was, decided it was time.

Your hand began slipping from Katniss's; an unseen tear fell from your eye, and you smiled. A smile of goodbye sent to the love of your life. His face contorted into one of agony, lips moving but you couldn't hear his voice over the roaring waves. Still, you knew exactly what he was shouting.

"NO! NO!"

There was nothing he could do but watch your body disappear into the waves, repeating over and over "no, no, no," and praying his cruel eyes had deceived him. They hadn't.

Dark blue was in every direction you looked. The undertow tossed and rolled your body like a ragdoll in a washing machine and despite your attempts to swim, the surface only seemed to be slipping further and further out of your reach. Darkness engulfed you, so thick that you couldn't tell which way was up or down. That was when the panic set in.

Your arms and legs thrashed frantically, struggling against the water's force, desperate to reach safety or an air pocket. Cold water flooded your throat as you gasped uncontrollably. You screamed as every attempt at breathing felt like fire burning in your lungs. Finnick. Where was he? Where were you? What was happening? Why wouldn't it stop?

Thoughts submerged your mind in terror, and you were powerless to stop them. All you could do was feel. Pain. Fire. Burning

At some point, the Cornucopia had ceased its spinning and your body came to a rest in the water. An eerie calm suddenly washed over you; a sense of clarity stilled your wild movements. This was the end. There was no future. No hope. The world above wasn't yours to call home anymore. You now belonged to the sea.

Of course, your water-logged mind had forgotten that home was where the heart was, and your heart was still beating... above the surface, in the aching chest of another.

Tendrils of hair floated around your face like fronds of seaweed. Rays of sunlight penetrated the surface, turning the surroundings a vibrant sparkly blue. As you sank further down, the water, now a comfortable lukewarm, cradled you in its embrace. It felt safe, like being in Finnick's arms again. Like home.

You gazed at the sun's rays; they looked beautiful. You felt beautiful. But time was running out and the bright light soon began shrouding your entire vision, though not before you witnessed a dark figure dive beneath the waves.

**********

Finnick loved the ocean. He spent most days in District Four down by the beach, swimming, spearfishing, and watching the sun rise and set on the blue horizon. If he believed in reincarnation, he would have imagined himself to be a lionfish or dolphin in his past life, living in an underwater world, free from tyranny and oppression. He loved the ocean.

But that love was incomparable to what he felt for you. So, when he dove into the rocky waters to save you and felt the currents fighting against him, he determined there was nothing he hated more than the ocean. Not as he watched its strong grip drag your motionless body further down below him.

Your back had just touched the soft seabed when he swam far enough down to envelope you in his embrace. He should have swum you back to the surface immediately, but in his distressed state, he couldn't help but foolishly stare at your lifeless appearance. Your skin was blue. It's just the water's colour, he told himself. Your eyes were closed. She's just asleep. Your neck didn't pulse under his touch. She's... She's...

He had no justification for that. Feet planted firmly on the sandy floor, he propelled both himself and you back up to the surface. As Finnick paddled back to the Cornucopia, the others reached down and helped lift your limp body onto the rocks.

"Is she...?"

"Peeta," Katniss quietly reprimanded him.

Finnick paid them no attention. He said nothing but trauma screamed in his eyes. His breathing was ragged and his hands were trembling as he frantically checked your pulse again—in both your wrists and your neck; he even pressed his ear to your chest. All he heard was the waves lapping against the rocks.

"No," he whispered again.

It seemed to be all he could say anymore. No. No, this couldn't be happening. You were just standing beside him a few minutes ago; your eyes were just looking into his. However much he tried to deny reality, it didn't seem to make it any less true. You were gone.

He choked out a rough determined breath, interlocked his hands over your chest, and began pressing repeatedly over your heart. Wet strands of tangled hair were strewn across the rocks like dead seaweed. The usual soft pink accompanying your cheeks was nowhere to be seen, devoid of any life.

"Come on, sweetheart," he muttered before pulling down your chin to blow air into your lungs. The kiss of life. And when nothing happened as he pulled away, he restarted the chest compressions. "Oh, don't do this to me," he begged, voice breaking. "Don't do this. Breathe."

Any moment now. Any moment, your eyes would flutter open, the colour would return to your glowing skin, and your heart would beat with life beneath his hands. Your lips would whisper his name and he would pull you into his arms, where he would keep you safe until the end of time.

"Breathe."

Thirty compressions. Two breaths. Nothing. He did it again. Thirty compressions. Two breaths. Silence. Maybe he should've just ripped his heart out and replaced yours with his own. Death would come for him within seconds but hearing something beating inside your chest would've made the sacrifice worth it.

Life would flash before his eyes and your beaming smile would be the last thing he'd get to see. His last thought would be of relief that you were alive.

Johanna rested a tentative hand on Finnick's shoulder. "Finnick, she's—"

"No, she's not!" he exclaimed, continuing his movements. "She's fine. Aren't you, baby? You're fine." He cupped your jaw, his thumb stroking your soft skin before he pressed his lips to yours and blew twice. "You're fine."

The golden bangle around his wrist glimmered in the sunshine as he pressed on your ribcage. All he had to do was keep you alive until Plutarch rescued everyone. One simple task and he failed.

"Finnick, we have to go," someone said. Who? He didn't know nor care.

Leave me, he wanted to say. Leave me here to die. Let the Careers mutilate my body, take my life, my last breath, but let it be by her side.

Something cracked beneath his palms and he knew one of your ribs had fractured. His arms stilled, half-expecting you to cry out in pain but then he remembered. And with that sickening crack came a devastating realisation—you really were gone.

A sob erupted from his throat and his head fell to your chest, drenching your already-soaked wetsuit with hot tears. Everything else seemed to disappear. The arena, the Careers who could attack again at any moment, the spectators who were avidly watching. Everything.

It was just him and you. He didn't care that his screams and deafening sobs could bring unwanted attention or jeopardise the group's safety. Any tribute with half a mind would know crossing him in such a state would be a fatal flaw. Even if they did, it wouldn't matter. Nothing mattered. Life no longer had meaning.

Finnick pulled your lifeless body onto his lap and cradled you protectively in his arms, lightly rocking back and forth. His forehead rested against your own, cold and damp. You always were the cold one, needing his touch to light a fire beneath your skin. He loved having you rely on him for warmth, but not like this.

"Come back to me, baby, please," he begged almost inaudibly. Tears were running down his cheeks as he brushed pieces of hair away from your face. His lips were on yours once more, heartbroken and painfully delicate; not to fill your lungs with air, but to fill your heart with his love in the hopes it would be enough to bring it back to life. "Don't leave me."

Pleas, prayers, begs, and wishes flew past his lips, over and over. And then they stopped and Finnick simply stared. Silence fell across the entire arena. The birds didn't chirp, the other tributes remained quiet, and the trees stood still. Even the water had calmed, resembling a perfectly flat mirror.

Finnick only had three words left on his tongue. Three final words to give you, wherever it was that you were. He slowly leaned down, squeezed his stinging eyes shut, and pressed a long farewell kiss to your forehead. His eyes remained closed as he parted from your skin, unable to take another look as he whispered his final goodbye.

"I love you."

And then, for the first time since he had rescued you from the blue depths, he felt his heart beating again. Just like yours was.

**********

There was a voice, distant yet reassuring—a lifeline to consciousness. Black was all there was. Coldness was all that was felt. It was desolate. But that voice... that voice was so anguished yet so familiar and encouraging that it lit a fire inside your chest, warming you from the inside out.

In the distance of the dark void was a figure, their body made entirely out of a pulsating golden light. Each word the voice spoke enhanced the light's brightness. "Come... me, please..." Brighter. "Don't leave..." And brighter.

The light was warm and comforting, just like the voice attached to it. Whoever's voice it was that brought the light resonated deep in your mind, tugging at the strings within your heart.

Your heart.

The thumping in your chest was weak, almost non-existent, but it was still there. Though it seemed time was running out. Pitch-black darkness outweighed the golden light ten-to-one; you could feel its cold breath creeping onto your back. So, you started running towards the figure. Sprinting. Until all that surrounded you was golden.

"I love you."

Water. At first, it came trickling out in two fluid streams from the sides of your mouth. Then suddenly, it was spraying into the air as choked coughs forced the liquid from your burning lungs. Light flooded your vision—not golden and inviting, but vivid and overwhelming.

There was something warm beneath your legs, against your arm, rubbing at your back, holding you in an upright position. While you heaved, dry-retched, and gasped, that soothing warmth remained.

As your airways began to clear and the expulsion of water ceased, your half-lidded eyes rolled around the area. Still dazed and disoriented, you struggled to make out what surrounded you. There was immense rippling blue, vibrant hues of green in the distance, dark rough grey beneath you, and elongated blobs of colour that stood a few feet away.

"Just–just keep breathing, sweetheart." That voice. The one belonging to the figure of light that brought you back. It was madly repeating the same words over and over. "You're okay", "Deep breaths", and "You're alive."

Shaky fingers brushed the stray wet strands of hair from your face. So warm. With the little energy you had, your head turned to seek out the golden light again. And you found it.

The blinding sun shining down reflected off his bronze hair, turning it a divine golden hue. His brows were raised and scrunched together as though he couldn't possibly believe what he was seeing. Deep lines were etched into his tear-streaked skin, evidence of his previous turmoil. Those sea-green eyes stared at you, afraid that if he so much as blinked, you would fall lifeless in his arms once more.

"You're here," he whispered.

Finnick. YourFinnick. Your light.

When your eyes met, a splitting grin lit up his face, made up of an inconceivable amount of raw emotion. You weren't sure what to do—smile, laugh, cry, kiss him? Your mind was scrambled, overwhelmed with love for the beautiful golden-haired man in front of you.

Without warning, your face scrunched up and the tears began flowing. You weren't sure why you were crying. Maybe it was because you had just been brought back from the brink of death; maybe it was because you couldn't believe someone actually cared so deeply about you.

Finnick cradled your face in his hand. "It's okay," his voice trembled, tears now cascading down his cheeks. His smile, however, never disappeared. "You're okay. You're safe now. I'm not letting you go."

He took your face into two large hands, brought you to his lips, and pressed a tender kiss to each tear that rolled over your skin. One of your hands rested over his; the other was placed against his chest, feeling it rise and fall so you could synchronise your breaths.

His arms moved to pull you tightly against him, almost like he was trying to merge your body with his. Or perhaps, it was your soul. You didn't care about the pain aching in one of your ribs. You wanted to tell him that his soul was already intertwined with your own, but words couldn't describe the sentiment as profoundly as you felt it.

In the simplest of terms your water-logged brain could muster, you whispered, "You're my light, Finnick."

Brows scrunched together, he looked down at you, fighting back the urge to start sobbing in your arms. If he had been anywhere else, if there wasn't an entire country watching, he would've gone on for hours, explaining how stupidly, selfishly, and incredibly in love with you he was.

But he couldn't do that. Not now. So, he placed his hand over the one you had resting on his chest and readjusted its position. He could feel the thumping, even through your palm.

Your eyes were full of emotion as you stared up into his. You already knew what his next words were going to be and for the first time since you were thrown into the water from the Cornucopia, you smiled.

Rhythmically, your hand and his pulsed together. Finnick's gaze flickered across your face and he grinned. "You're my heart."

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kastalani123 · 2 months

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Mmmmmmmm, but what if Estelle grows up without knowing about the Greek myths being real?

What if Sally and Paul look at Percy, who's hesitant to hold his baby sister for fear of drowning her with blood-drenched hands, who eventually holds her like she's made of glass because the Destroyer is afraid of breaking her, who shoves his face into his pillow to keep his nightmares from waking her up–

What if Sally and Paul look at Percy, seventeen years old with the world resting on his shoulders since he was twelve, and ask, "Do you want her to know?"

And he wonders. He thought it'd be a given, that she'd grow up surrounded by monsters and magic, that he'd make fish made of water swim around her to make her laugh, that there would be no secrets as to his life's horror.

But he wonders. He thinks that, maybe, she won't have to grow up afraid of her own shadow. She's mortal, after all. There is no ichor in her veins. There is no guarantee she will be Clear Sighted.

There is no reason she can't live a normal life.

There is no reason she has to be woven into the Fates' tapestry beyond the barest of mentions.

He wonders, and he decides no. No, this one person, this little bundle of giggles, this reason that motivates him to learn healthy coping mechanisms, this little sister of his — she will not be forced to grow up so fast. She will not hesitate making plans for her future in fear of never making it that far. She will not suffer scars from things other than risky bike tricks and tumbling down a hill.

This one person that he can protect, for once in his life. This one person that he will protect, from both of his worlds.

Oh, it's not that she doesn't know anything. He makes sure she knows as many myths as possible, as many ways to protect herself as she can learn, as many people and places that can help her if she ever needs it. She grows up with bedtime stories about winged horses and giant dogs and a number of human-animal hybrids. She dreams of a brother with a scarred lip and a girl who loves too much and a sister who usually thinks of her sibling before herself and a boy who can tame dragons, and sometimes it's like her dreams are real, like she actually knows the characters from her brother's stories. She learns to recognize unfairness and abuse, to stand up for those who cannot stand up for themselves, to make things right even if she has to force unwilling hands to do what she wants with trickery.

She knows so much.

But she never climbs a wall flowing with lava. But she never picks up a sword and dons a set of armor. But she never learns her loved ones' scars don't come from unfortunate accidents. But she never flies through the sky on helpful wings. But she never dives into the depths of the ocean in a bubble of air. But she never gets lost in a house that's always changing its layout to suit its occupants' needs. But she never watches her home in ruin. But she never runs from an inferno consuming the world around her. But she never cradles a friend's body as the life drains from their eyes.

But she never stops being an ordinary mortal.

#pjo #rick riordan #hoo #pjo hoo toa #pjo fandom #pjoverse #pjo spoilers #percy jackson #percy pjo #sally jackson #paul blofis #estelle blofis #pjo series

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sailing-ever-west · 4 months

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Zoro fascinates me as a character because like. He's insane. This man does things on a daily basis that scare me. And yet somehow I get the feeling he's the most stable person on the strawhat crew, at least where I'm at. Like Luffy is his own entire ball of wax I'm not even gonna touch, Sanji has every mental illness and his only recourse is to flirt, Nami copes with severe trauma by looking as cute as possible and being the ship's resident loan shark, Usopp can't deal with reality so he just makes it up, and Chopper is like eight and short circuits to screaming when shown affection. Zoro has trauma for sure, but his trauma is like...he lost someone, so he's protective and often reckless with his own life. So compared to the rest of the strawhats he's like the chillest guy ever. Man just wants to take naps and then make sure nobody else dies so he can get back to napping again. He's an alcoholic but this is never like,,, a problem. He's just there. Walking around like ok what are you nutcases up to today. I'm gonna go take my shirt off and swim in an icy river. This will have less crazy results than what everyone else decided to do today.

#one piece #roronoa zoro #one piece meta

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lethalchiralium · 5 months

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“Winnie, don’t jump. Wait for me.”

Simon held Mellie close to his chest as he wadded through the water, her little boonie hat pressed into his face and he held out a hand for Winnie. Soap was stood beside her, buckling the last strap on her life jacket. Even though Price’s pool was shallow, he would never risk losing one of his babies. He held out his hand, his daughter instantly grabbed it and jumped - his hand keeping half of her body above water. “You scare me, kiddo.”

She gave him a wide smile, giggling. You watched the exchange from your lounge chair, covered by a sun hat on your head and Simon’s towel on your legs. Your book was bookmarked, your hands placed it on the table beside you before moving your head back and closing your eyes. You were ready to nap, losing sleep due to your Mellie’s attachment to you was normal now. You didn’t have to worry about watching your husband with your daughters, their uncles watched them like mountain lions protecting their pack.

“Missus!”

You opened only one eye, Soap looked at you with his biggest smile.

“Come swim!”

“Leave ‘er be, idiot.” Gaz called from the other side of the pool, sitting in the shallow end with their Captain. “If she wants to sleep, let her sleep!”

“She never gets to have fun with us!”

“It’s almost like I’m right here.” You closed your eye again, smirking to yourself. “Simon, handle them.”

“Now listen here, fucks-“

You curled up underneath Simon’s towel, listening to your husband drill his sergeants and Price laughing from the other side of the pool.

#happiness series #happiness #lethal chiralium #lethalchiralium #simon ghost riley #simon riley #call of duty #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x wife!reader #simon ghost riley x wife!reader #simon ghost riley x f!reader #simon riley x f!reader #simon riley x you #simon ghost riley x you

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deadsetobsessions · 10 days

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REVERSE TROPE WRITING PROMPT BY @out-of-jams

ACCIDENTALLY KIDNAPPING A MAFIA BOSS

In Tucker's defense, he thought he was doing someone a favor. A life saving favor, in fact.

"What the fuck-!” The red helmeted guy yelped as a deceptively strong Tucker yanked him onto the bike and sped away. Before Tucker could explain, the GIW agents behind them got in a lucky shot and hit the helmeted liminal with a strong blast to the head.

Clearly, his gear wasn’t equipped with anti-ecto protections, because the guy slumped over on Tucker’s arms. This was bad, because Tucker now had to maneuver about 230 pounds of Gotham muscle while speeding away from government agents. He flicked on the jammer so they couldn’t track his and red helmets’s ecto signature.

“STOP!”

“Ah, shit.” Tucker cursed as he somehow managed to gather up red-helmet’s body and stabilize the bike. “C’mon, Tuck, you can do this.”

Blasts of anti-ecto tech slammed into buildings around him. Luckily, Gotham was used to this kind of shit so people just moved out of the way before going back to their day. Tucker wove around traffic, trying to lure the agents into slamming face first into some signposts.

“Stop damaging the local infrastructure!” Tucker yelled back at them, speeding up.

“WELL REIMBURSE THE PEOPLE AND THE CITY LATER! TELL US WHERE PHANTOM IS!!”

“Over my dead body, you jerks!” Tucker took a sharp right, catching red helmet before the man could slip off. He sped up and took the ramp downwards, heart beating loudly in his ears as he strained his senses to figure out- ah, they took the ramp upwards. Good. Now, all he has to do is bring red helmet back to home base.

“Oh my god. I kidnapped him,” Tucker groaned, slapping at his face before quickly placing his hands back on the handle bar once the bike teetered over with red helmet’s weight. “I’m a criminal. Oh my god.”

Then, as he found his way back, “…Well, it’s not like I wasn’t a criminal before, with the whole resisting arrest thing.”

——

Tucker dumped the red helmet liminal onto the couch of their shared apartment and went to take a shower. When he got out ten minutes later, he found Danny and Sam staring at the helmet guy. Tucker pushed up his glasses (after letting them defog from the shower) and greeted them.

“Hey, guys! I found him while I was running away from Agent L and J.”

“You okay?” Danny asked, eyes immediately flicking over Tucker for injuries.

“Yeah, I’m good. They’re horrible shots.”

“I thought Danny was the one who brought home strays but you…?” Sam commented, arms crossed and a purple painted nail tapping at her arm. “Wait. Isn’t this… that crime lord? What was his name?”

“Red Hood?” Danny offered, turning back to look at the guy on their couch.

Tucker paled. “Oh, no.”

Guns? Check.

Red Helmet? Check.

Bat-Symbol? Check.

Shit.

They collectively stared at the guy in silence.

“…Tucker,” Sam slowly said. “Did you accidentally kidnap a crime lord?”

“Hey, I didn’t want him to get killed! He’s liminal! Even more than us, except for Danny.” Tucker grumbled. “Man, this is why I leave the hero-ing to Danny. I do one good thing and suddenly I have a crime lord on my couch.”

“My couch,” Sam corrected, as she was the one that furnished their apartment.

“What do we do now?”

“Eat dinner,” Tucker said. “I’m famished.”

Sam nodded. “Wait for him to wake up and hope he doesn’t shoot us the moment he wakes up. Then, we explain.”

Danny grabbed all the visible guns he could see. Tucker went to start dinner. Sam supervised, because her boys were idiots and now she had a crime lord in her apartment.

——

Jason groaned, head swimming in a sea of dull throbbing pain as his eyes fluttered open.

Then he remembered he was abducted, and bolted up right. He paused as a series of quick observations made its way to his consciousness.

One. He’s not tied up. Weird, because everyone knows that he’s a weapon even without his weapons.

Two. His weapons were right there, just in reach.

Three. He was surrounded by teenagers and/or young adults who were all scrolling along on their phones.

“Oh, hey, he’s awake! Hi!” The Wayne bait said, electric blue eyes fixing itself on Jason. “Were you aware you died?”

Jason went rigid, hundreds of way to-

“Danny!” A scolding tone cut of Jason’s immediate panic. Two couch pillows slammed into Danny’s face, courtesy of goth girl and nerdy but strong.

“Dude, why do you start with that? Why are you like this?” His… possible kidnapper? asked, exasperatedly flinging his hands into the air as he rolled his eyes.

Goth girl scowled. “Boys. Crime lord, couch, remember?”

“Hey, in my defense, I died too!”

And that- as Jason remained dumbfounded in this circle of tomfoolery- was what snapped Jason out of his daze.

“You what?” He rasped out.

And when he saw them open their mouths at the same time, Jason just knew his headache was going worse.

——

Tucker, effortlessly plucking the actual red hood from the streets: and I whoop-

Jason, whose type is strong, nerdy, and tall: *heart eyes* *but not really because he’s unconscious*

——

Sam: “this is my boyfriend Danny and our other boyfriend Tucker.”

Jason enters chat:

Sam: “this is my boyfriend Danny and our other boyfriend Tucker and his boyfriend, the Red Hood.”

——

#writing prompt #DCxDP #Sam Mason #dpxdc #Danny Phantom #Tucker Foley #they share an apartment #so basically they’ve got the swankiest living space ever #bc Gotham rent is cheap #are they platonically or romantically living together?#no one knows #I sure as hell don’t either

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