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universalitgirlsblog2 · 16 days

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🧁🍥STOP BEING LAZY AND PATHETIC🧁🍥

This post is my notes of Thewizardliz video on how to stop being lazy and pathetic. This account will be my digital notebook where I will write notes from Liz and Tam Kaur's videos ( LOL ) .

🧁WHO ARE LAZY PEOPLE ?

Lazy people are the forgotten ones. People that don't want to do anything with their lives, they will always end up on a sideline.

🍥REALIZE THAT NO ONE CARES IF YOU ARE LAZY

Everybody has problems. No one cares about your victim mindset and about how life was hard/ unfair for you. Life is unfair to everyone . Life goes on. Everyone is busy with their own lives. We got to get moving !

🧁YOU AREN'T LAZY , YOU ARE PRIVILEGED

People that need to survive have no option to be lazy . People that are walking up the stairs and they can barely breathe , they have no option anymore than to lose that weight. People that are so vulnerable and their bodies cannot handle of them being so underweight have no option but to lose weight. People that have to go to work otherwise there is no food on the table. They have no option to be lazy. If you have the option to be lazy, you are privileged.

🍥THE HALO EFFECT

The halo effect is when we see a beautiful person , we will think that they are less likely to do something bad because we associate someone beautiful with being a good person. Its the same way with successful person. If we see a successful person in any field , we will assume that they are successful in all their aspects of life. Suppose if a person have a successful business , we will automatically think that they are successful in their relationships and everywhere. If you are lazy , you can't benefit from the halo effect . It takes effort to be beautiful and to maintain beauty. We only see these successes , we don't see the progress. Most people are privileged and have it all but most people come from 0 and create it for themselves. It takes discipline.

🧁FOCUS ON YOUR LIFE FORCE : HEALTH , DIET AND RELATIONSHIPS

When you feel that you are lazy , focus on your life force . What is your life force ? Health and diet. Focus on moving your body and eat foods that don't spike your insulin and eat food that nourish your body. When you feel lazy or don't feel good , don't isolate yourself. Connect with your family and friends. Also focus on your relationship with yourself. What are you engaging your mind in ? Be connected to your own energy. Journal. Sometimes God or your guides are speaking to you but because your mind is constantly racing , you can't listen to them.

🍥CREATE ROUTINES AND STICK TO THEM

Humans need routines. You need a structurised routine. Sometimes we can't stick to routines but we need a base so we have something to go back to. I would like to add something here , I am reading a book by Brianna Wiest , it's called 101 essays that will change the way you think. There was line in the book . " As children, routine gives us a feeling of safety. As adults , it gives us a feeling of purpose ."

🧁CLEAN SPACE IS SELF RESPECT

Clean space is a clean mind. Not even cleaning after yourself is a sign of huge disrespect to yourself. Stop reading this and clean your room right now !!!!!

🍥THERE IS REASON WHY YOU MADE THAT COMMITMENT TO YOURSELF

Remember the reason . Remind yourself, " Why did I even start ? " " Why did I even want this goal ?" . If you don't want the goal anymore then do something else.

🧁THINK ABOUT WHAT STORY ARE YOU TELLING YOURSELF

If you are telling yourself that you are a lazy person , you will act like one. Your mom didn't carry you for 9 months just for you to say that you are lazy. Get a hold of yourself. Don't complain about how you don't have your dream life if you are lazy.

🍥REALISE YOU CAN CHANGE YOUR REALITY ANY SECOND

You can change your realities really fast if you start acting like the person you want to become.

🧁HEAL THE PAST AND MOVE ON

Go to therapy and heal from the past. You can change your story around . If you are a victim of trauma or abuse , don't just go around and tell people because they lose respect for you .

🍥YOUR BODY RESPONDS TO YOUR THOUGHTS AND FEELINGS

If you are constantly living in the past , reliving it , your body will make you ill. If you want a different outcome and different future, you have to do things differently. People around you don't need to change, you have the power to control that. You have the responsibility to heal yourself. What others did to you , it is on them . They will get their karma.

🧁ARE YOU LAZY OR DID YOU STOP PROGRESSING ?

People become happy when they start progressing. We constantly need that drive or something to strive for. Create a new project . Find a new hobby. Learn a new skill. Do something that you haven't tried before or pick something you used to love.

🍥TOO MUCH INFORMATION MAKES US LAZY

There is so much information on the internet to the point we don't know what to do. There are so many videos on the best diet , skincare or workout , we get consumed in other people's opinions and lives. We start filling their lives with our energy. ( Just a suggestion; you can search workout or skincare recommendations but at the end you should choose a diet or skincare or workout which suits you , not others )

🧁ARE YOU TOO CONSUMED IN OTHER PEOPLE'S LIVES ?

If you wonder to yourself : Why do I not have any energy left for myself ? Because you are too consumed in other people's lives so you aren't living your own.

🍥FEELINGS ARE NOT ALWAYS RIGHT

Feelings are just feelings. If we all just react to go out of emotions we would all unalive each other.

🧁ALLOW YOUR FEELINGS TO PURGE AND YOUR BODY TO HEAL.

Feelings purge by you feeling them. Release your emotions , don't suppress them . If you suppress those Feelings, they will get stored in your body and might show up later as physical illness. Sleeping is also healing. Let your body heal. Once that's done , get up and do something . Don't dwell there for too long.

🍥WHAT DO YOU FEEL VS WHAT DO YOU WANT ?

If you feel like eating unhealthy food but then you want your dream body. It doesn't correlate. You need to have discipline.

🧁COURAGE IS BEING VULNERABLE

Go outside and try to meet new people. Do something which you wouldn't normally do .

🍥LEARN TO ASK FOR HELP.

Learn to accept help. Sometimes God send people to help you. Ask help from God and you will receive help in miraculous ways.

🧁BE PRODUCTIVE ON YOUR OWN TERMS.

What does productivity look like for you ? What are your goals? Create that productivity mindset and visions. What works for others may not work for you.

🍥ARE THE PEOPLE AROUND YOU DRAINING YOUR ENERGY ?

If you have toxic people around you , you are constantly around them , you are going to feel bad. Distance yourself. No one can make you feel upset, you have the control over how you feel.

🧁CHANGE YOUR PERSPECTIVE ON SITUATIONS.

Most people are projecting their insecurities. Instead of feeling angry, have compassion for them. Similiarily , if you are going through a break up instead of thinking that they were the last person on earth. Think that your souls were meant to cross and then meant to separate. You learnt your lesson and they learn their lesson.Change your perspective on things .

🍥FOCUS ON THE THINGS YOU CAN DO

Think about three things you can do . What is your passion ? What makes you happy ? Who makes you happy ? Be grateful for these things. Realise that you can do alot and remind yourself of what you can actually do.

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snaileer · 7 months

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Everyone Loves a 2-for-1 Sale Part 3

Part 1 & 2 (And original Prompt)

The dining room was suspiciously quiet for a Wayne breakfast when Danny walked in.

He glanced up from his phone, pulling one earbud out, “Oh feel free to continue arguing my morality like I’m an object, my music’s on full volume.”

Dick looked uncomfortable, “We weren’t-Look, Ti- Danny, we are just a bit curious as to why you’re…. here,” Dick finished, glancing at the others like asking if they’d share the plate of batguilt-fries with him.

“Surely the world could have done without a second Drake,” Damian cut in before Danny could even start.

“And we could have done without even one of you, yet here you are,” Danny glared, “Factory defects and all.”

Damian jerked upwards with a raised knife, narrowly pushed back down by Dick.

Danny rolled his eyes, turning his attention back to his phone-Tim’s phone-their phone. He held a folded paper out to Bruce with two fingers, still typing, “I have a list, if you want it.”

He continued typing as they opening the note and read it, he knew what it said.

To Do in Gotham:

1. Get to Gotham

2. Find original - don’t freak family out

3. -Find- Talk to Bruce

4. Convince Vicki Vale that Tim is/ actually engaged to Tam Fox

5. Get safe house

6. New identity? (what do clones do? - ask Connor)

9. Leave?

“What’s number seven and eight?” Dick asked, and Danny actively made sure his typing pattern didn’t change.

“Don’t know yet,” He answered with a shrug, the picture of nonchalance. Bruce probably didn’t believe him.

Didn’t matter. Dick did. Because Dick felt guilty.

Bat guilty.

About time he believed him about something.

And Danny didn’t care about Damian’s opinions one way or another.

He stepped away from the table, plopping another grape in his mouth as he walked past, “Welp that’s it for me, busy day, fake engagement, gotta find some crutches because I don’t think Vicki will accept my ‘you got new legs Lieutenant Dan-ny’ joke, all that,”

Danny slipped out the door past a sleep-deprived Tim with a jaunty salute, “All’s well in Clone Town!”

Danny kept walking, his brain running miles ahead of him, Ted Tobin steering the wheel with his fingers on the keypad of his phone as he moved forward and mentally filled in the list.

Number 7: Find Ra’s Al Ghul and the Lazarus pits.

Number 8: Stabilize yourself.

Danny continued up the stairs. He had people to see and rings to buy. Busy is the life of a saboteur.

—

Red Robin watched his clone linger in the jeweler’s store, trying to keep the frown from taking over his whole face.

He was making Tim’s life difficult. Tim suspected it was on purpose.

Largely because people would ask way too many questions if two Tim Drakes showed up in Gotham at the same time.

Hence, Red Robin being relegated to rooftop surveillance.

He turned his attention back to the clone, watching as he left the shop and turned down the street. Red Robin swept after him, following from above.

The clone remained focused on his phone- which was also Tim’s by the way, and stolen- as he walked down the street, turning into an alley without even looking up.

Tim tilted his head and swung to the rooftop, peering into the darkness.

“You could always just come down and actually talk to me, you know?”

Tim dropped into the alley, unsurprised to come face to face with the clone. It was weird to see his own face look so annoyed by him.

“Thought it was best to stay out of sight. We’re not exactly a daylight hero.”

Danny rolled his eyes, “Already annoyed with Vicki Vale?”

Tim nearly growled, “That is your fault,”

“Oh come on, you can’t tell me it’s not hilarious.”

“You’ve spent all morning in ring shops! I have meetings!”

“Lucius can handle them. It’s not like we actually did anything this last year anyways.”

Tim stared at him for a second, confusion in the squint of his eyes and laced with suspicion.

Danny groaned with a roll of his eyes, “Fine, you want me to stay put somewhere so you can do your civilian thing?”

“Yes.”

“I am not staying in the manor. You can’t make me.”

Dread filled him as Tim smiled, “Not a problem.”

Danny glared at Tim standing arms wide in the center of the room of his emptiest safe house, “This is so not what I meant and you know it.”

Tim’s face betrayed nothing, “Look, none of us are happy with this situation-“

Danny scoffed. Understatement of the century.

“But..” Tim continued with a pointed look, “It’s my fault, and I get that. So…compromise? You stay here, work on cold cases while I sort out my current job, and when I’m done, we’ll figure out what to do, okay?”

Danny sighed, feeling Ted Tobin stir to life with plans already forming.

“Fine.”

Tim nodded succinctly, reaching for a laptop and multiple cords, “Ok, here’s my old computer, -huh, I could have sworn that had a different charger- anyways- I’ll take this,” he plucks the phone from Danny’s hands in one smooth motion, giving a mocking smile in return to Danny’s glare, “Thank you very much, now I just have to-and find the guy who…”

Tim’s voice tapers off into mumbles as he heads into the bedroom to peel off his suit, fingers focused on the keypad of his newly reacquired phone.

Danny slumps himself down on the secondhand couch, dust echoing around him. This was fine, he could do stuff in the meanwhile, maybe help Tim with his case -or solve it himself, he bets he could- and then finish the new specs for the suit wings that Danny’s suit still didn’t have.

Tim fumbled through the doorway, now in civilian clothes, already on a call with Lucius probably, or Tam. Tam helped him a lot.

Danny slouched further into the silence.

It felt like being left behind by his parents.

They had bigger priorities.

Archaeology.

Ghosts.

Danny shook his head, opening the computer and letting Ted Tobin fish through the passwords for case files.

He’s nearly 3 hours deep when he really pauses for the first time, finally stopping the continuous notes sitting next him, each a different clue. Most for different cases.

The current case pulled up on his screen scratches at him, facts slotting into place with rapid fire precision.

The officer assigned to the case is a vet.

The case is perpetrated by a senatorial candidate.

The officer assigned served on three active fronts and 2 undisclosed.

The guilty candidate is running support for a bill cutting veteran supports.

Best of all?

It’s not in Gotham.

Danny smiles as Ted Tobin’s plan fills in, piece by piece.

—

Ra’s Al Ghul should really make it harder to hack into his confidential back market mercenary dealings.

Then again, maybe it was for the better. How else would he make sure Red Robin was able to intercept the assassin in time to save that poor officer’s life the night before his case-closing arrest?

—

“Detective, I assumed holding my business outside of Gotham would keep it from being the concern of you and yours,” Ra’s’ voice is muffled through the bag over his head, “It seems I was wrong.”

“Oh well, you know me…,” The bag is ripped roughly off his head, leaving him blinking rapidly against the light even as he smirks, “Always butting into things when I shouldn’t. It’s kind of what we do.”

“Tell me, Timothy,” Ra’s says, turning his back to him once more, as he waves his ninjas away, “What does this officer matter to you, more than a state away from your usual stomping grounds? What-“ Ra’s pauses as a different ninja approaches him to whisper in his ear. His body stills.

“Well, we’ll start there. First of all, as I’m sure you just found out, I’m not Timothy,” Danny says, standing up smoothly. He relishes the look Ra’s gives him as he turns around. “And secondly, the officer wasn’t what mattered. Getting you here on the other hand. Now that.. that takes a little more planning.” Danny brushes himself off, removing the cowl to leave just his own domino behind.

Ra’s al Ghul hums, his eyebrow twitching up even as his eyes narrow in suspicion.

“What? No sudden desire to stab? No impromptu attempt to put a sword through my chest?”

“You are curious. So much like the detective, and yet… my people tell me he is currently patrolling in Gotham with the Grayson boy.”

Danny scoffs, “Oh great, another fruit loop interested in me, like I need a new one of those.”

Ra’s’ stare doesn’t change. Albeit a bit more annoyed, but still flat and calm.

“You wanna know what makes me different from Timothy, Ra’s?” Danny pauses, taking a deep breath and letting the ectoplasm ripple inside him for the first time in months. “The difference between me and him,” When he looks up he knows his eyes glow fluorescent green, “Is that I’m stronger.”

—

Bonus Scene:

Dick stared at Tim’s clone as he left, sweeping past the original’s bleary form stumbling to the coffee machine.

“Are we sure he’s Drake’s clone? He seems… less of a fool,” Damian sneered, watching Tim stand listlessly in front of the cabinet, coffeemaker off, and tablet in hand.

He looked out of the Dining room doors, spotting Danny standing not far away in front of one of the closets by the stairs rather than the actual steps, fingers tapping away.

Damian turned back to his breakfast, “I retract my statement. Clearly his stupidity was simply blinding.”

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arielleslipgloss · 4 months

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IDGAF Mindset 101

“90% of life is confidence. And the thing is about confidence is no one knows if it’s real or not.” - Maddy Perez/ Alexa Demie

Learn to say no. Any situation that you are uncomfortable in or don’t want to do something. SAY NO! It’s not rude to say no. What is rude is someone forcing you into something you don’t want to do. If it helps you can even say “no, thank you.” You’re still saying no but in a nicer form.

2. “If they don’t know you personally, don’t take it personal.” Why take a comment from someone personally? Do they know you, the REAL you. In fact, do you even know the real you? If they don’t, then don’t take it personally. Their comments aren’t going to matter when you’re living your dream life. It won’t matter in 10 years. So, don’t spend 10 seconds thinking about it.

3. Don’t allow disrespect! Would you let your (future) daughter get disrespected? I don’t think so. Therefore don’t allow yourself to get disrespected. If people are making your uncomfortable, let them know! If people are making comments about you, stand up for yourself. If you don’t want to do any of those, then walk away. NEVER let ANYONE disrespect you.

4. Altogether you need self respect! In order to do most of these, you need self respect. Self respect will help you overcome a lot of obstacles. Self respect is a strong aspect of your life. It’s not just a feeling or belief, it’s a skill. Not everyone has or can have strong self respect. The first step to self respect is work on your low self-esteem. That, is if you have self-esteem. Nevertheless, working on yourself in general is something you won’t regret! I recommend you watch self-development Youtubers. My favorites are Tam Kaur, TheWizardLiz, Simonesimmo, Persephonesmind, Lana Blakely, etc

5. Think of your haters as fans! Haters are truly your biggest fans. Whether they like it or not they are. They hate, hate, hate, and hate but they are still watching. They are still commenting on your every move. They still try to bring you down to feel good about themselves. All they are, is jealous fans.

“You be fearless everyday and when you don’t feel like it, just pretend girl” - Rhianna

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kale-of-the-forbidden-cities · 3 months

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Just thinking about Fitz and Keefe. They're both so jealous of each other. It spiraled into more and more talking about fitz and vacker imperfections and stuff, enjoy :>

(I rambled out the draft on discord, but I did change a few things and add on a bit at the end, so if you feel like rereading it might make more sense now)

tw: breif mentions of ed, suicidal thoughts, and implied sh, but they're all like very brief and not descriptive just want to put a warning

Remember in Flashback when Sophie and Fitz were going all Fitzphie on Keefe's mind, and they found the memory of Alden telling Keefe he was proud?

Imagine it hurt so bad for Fitz when he watched that. Because Alden never says that to Fitz even when he came out on top, no matter how perfect he was, so why did Keefe get that kind of praise?

Keefe may have come out second to Fitz with Foxfire grades, but Fitz has always felt second to Keefe in everything. No matter how perfect he tries to be or how much of a people pleaser he is, it seems inevitable that everyone likes Keefe better anyway.

And how could they not? He's funny, he's messy, he's imperfect.

Fitz could never be like keefe. His family would hate him. But they still like Keefe better.

Alvar always liked Keefe better than his actual little brother. Even though Fitz looked up to Alvar more than anyone! He admitted that in Neverseen!

Alden told Keefe he was proud of him?? for coming in second? Even after all the studying and work Fitz put into being first, being top, being perfect, people always choose keefe, Which is one of the reasons Fitz was so insecure about Sophie spending a lot of time with Keefe while she and Fitz were dating, he was scared she was going to leave him for Keefe, like people always do, because he's just better. he's nicer, he doesn't lash out at people, he doesn't have as much pressure on him because he never cared about pleasing his parents.

AND SHE DID! Sophie did leave him for Keefe. Even though Fitz promised to take things at her pace. Even though he said he'd wait. But it was the match lists that ended up breaking them apart. But what was Fitz supposed to do?? Not care about the match? There had never been a Vacker bad match, and Fitz beign the first one, after everything Alvar did and how much all the Vackers already hate these five in particular, it would bring a whole new level of shame on the family. Not just him, but Biana and Alden and Della too.

Keefe is allowed to not care about this stuff, because he's not perfect. Fitz is so, so, so jealous of Keefe because he GETS TO BE IMPERFECT. HE'S ALLOWED TO MAKE MISTAKES. He's allowed to feel things.

Keefe's parents are awful, Fitz's parents are fine. Anytime Fitz dares to think "hey maybe my parents are manipulating or using me or putting unrealistic expectations on me" he also remembers that he has it GOOD. He's so lucky compared to everyone else. So he has no right to be upset about anything.

In Flashback, Fitz actually says something like this to Sophie: Sophie had to grow up with humans, Keefe has his whole thing with his parents, Dex was bullied for being the son of a bad match, Tam and Linh were banished… so he's had it easy! He has no right to feel sad when his life is just. so. perfect.

And the thing is, everyone thinks his life is perfect. Especially Keefe! Keefe is always talking about how the Vackers are perfect and lucky and he wishes he was one, when inside, Fitz would secretly rather be Keefe. Even with the whole everything with his parents, at least he doesnt have to be perfect! At least he's allowed to disappoint his parents, because theyre bad parents! And people always like him more. Without fail, Fitz has always felt second to Keefe. Every time he thinks he did good, people go to keefe for being imperfect.

Why did keefe get Alden's praise when he came out second in the level? Fitz barely slept to make sure he came out on top! If Fitz had gotten 98/100, he wouldn't be yelled at, but he'd get a disappointed talk. Why is it different with Keefe, who isnt even Alden's son, why does Alden like him more?

So Fitz ends up spiraling and obsessing more and more.

He can't be imperfect like Keefe, he wouldnt dare. So he does what he can to be as perfect as possible. Maybe he just needs to get a hold on his temper. Wait till he's behind closed doors to do anything but smile. Maybe he needs to eat less, get a perfect number on the scale. Maybe then he'll be good enough.

But he's never good enough.

Nothing he does will ever be good enough.

Keefe is reckless, imperfect, and messy. but even though Fitz does his best to not step a toe out of line, he does everything he can to be perfect...... They keep picking Keefe. without fail, no matter what.

Fitz knows he shohld accept defeat, accept that he'll never be good enough for anyone because of everything he's done to try to be perfect, but he can't stop trying.

He'll keep pushing himself, he'll stay up for hours studying, looking for clues about the Neverseen, going through Alvar's old room, he'll do ANYTHING for someone to say theyre proud of him. For someone to tell him that he did good, for once in his life, but they never notice.

It's never "Wow, you've been working so hard, good job!" or "You look good, did you lose weight?" or "Thanks for helping out, thanks for at least trying"

EVEN THOUGH HE DOES NOTHING BUT TRY. HE'S TRYING SO HARD

Instead, people are saying things like "You look awful, you've got bags under your eyes" (maybe he should put on some makeup to hide that) or "You never join us for dinner, it's like you hate us" (he does. he secretly hates his family so much) or "You've gotten so distant that you're ruining all your relationships with your friends and family" (what else is he supposed to do? they dont like him anyway)

He's driving himself insane over being perfect, only to have people like Sophie say that he's "too perfect." HE JUST CANT WIN!

He's not allowed to make mistakes, but maybe the worst mistake he made was being too perfect!

But how does he stop?

He can't. he trapped himself here. He's convinced he brought this on himself, but he cant get out of this cycle,

And nobody else will get him out,

Because he's not perfect enough.

If they havent noticed his struggling, maybe they dont care enough. But Fitz has gotten so good at hiding it. Nobody will notice until he passes out in the hall or just fucking kills himself because it's too much.

Fitz thinks, why is it that Keefe's allowed to be open about hating himself, and yet as soon as he makes the slightest self deprecating comment, he's suddenly "being dramatic" or "looking for attention"?

And we're back to talking about Keefe again.

None of this is Keefe's fault but he will still feel so so guilty. He felt Fitz's jealousy and hurt when they watched the memory of Alden saying he's proud of him.

Keefe and Fitz are constantly comparing themselves to each other, but by the end of the story, Keefe will be getting the help and support he needs to move on from it. Fitz never showed it and wouldnt dare admit it. So he does not.

Alden and Cassius both seem to prefer the other's son.

Even with Fitz and Biana. There's still a bit of jealousy there, because Biana is starting to seperate herself from her family, and start her own "Vacker Legacy," whatever that means.

After Nightfall, biana has grown more comfortable with herself, she is challenging what it means to be a Vacker, realizing that their family isn't all it's claimed to be. She has no shame in being her fun confident self, and crying when she needs to, and showing off her scars, while if Fitz showed his scars, he'd probably end up in a psych ward or something (or at the very least getting yelled at).

Fitz is jealous of Biana almost as much as he's jealous of keefe. She's never been quite perfect either, but it's always in a good way, isn't it? she's managed to keep her friends (not including the earlier books) and she used to be a bit of a jerk to people, so people can look back and see how far she's come.

Fitz has only gotten worse over the years, and he knows it. he hears what people say in the halls. their whispers hardly hide it. He's presented himself the way he wanted to be - perfect. But it gets harder and harder to hide his imperfections, and people only notice the bad things, don't they? They don't worry, they only judge.

Biana's probably dealing with her own issues, as everyone in the Vacker family does, but she can be more honest about it. She's starting to break the habit of plastering on a smile and saying everything's fine. She's working on her relationship with people. She's like reverse Fitz.

Fitz fears he's going down a similar path of destruction to Alvar, but he counters those fears by being Alden's perfect golden boy like he was always supposed to be. Alden has such a hold on Fitz, he'd do anything for him if Alden worded it right. Ever since he was a kid he always knew he'd do anything to please his parents, even if it was potentially dangerous. But nobody has seemed to even bat an eye when they hear how young Fitz was when he went to the Forbidden Cities. So he must be overreacting, right? Because how could Fitz's childhood be anything less than perfect?

See, when Sophie started learning a little bit about Fitz's past and how things were actually not perfect in the Vacker house, she started to ignore him more and more. She had her other reasons, but to Fitz, it seemed like she was seeing how imperfect he really was, and he's not everything she hoped for. So he panics, and does his best to prove to her that he is the perfect boyfriend she wanted, but it didn't matter anyway because... she. liked. Keefe. better.

And Fitz hates himself so much for wishing he was keefe because Keefe has it so bad with the legacy thing, he hates how he wishes his parents were worse so he didn't feel so guilty every time he made a mistake that would disappoint them.

Not one person in Fitz's life has ever chosen him first. With everyone. There's always someone they love more.

Della loves Biana more, Biana chooses her friends, Sophie chose Keefe, Keefe chose Sophie.

Alden seemed to favor Keefe, or his work, or even just the ways he uses Fitz instead of loving him as his son or as a person. Maybe that's why Fitz is so desperate to listen to Alden, to please him, because he's the only person who seems to even care, even if he only cares when he's doing good or being perfect.

Alvar would choose Biana or Keefe over Fitz any day, even before the betrayal. Fitz still looked up to him, despite his vague dislike for Fitz. He likes Biana better because he thinks she'd understand better what the Vacker legacy is, Because FITZ IS PART OF IT. HE'S ADDING ONTO IT, WHATEVER IT IS!

Yep that's all I have, feel free to add your own ideas :3

tags:

@fitz-avery-vacker @autistic-daydreamer

#kotlc #kotlc fitz #fitz vacker #kotlc vackers #kotlc alden #alden vacker #kotlc alvar #alvar vacker #kotlc della #della vacker #kotlc biana #biana vacker #kotlc headcanons

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teyamsatan · 11 months

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𝕄𝕠𝕟𝕤𝕥𝕖𝕣 𝕀𝕟 𝕄𝕖 | ℂ𝕙𝕒𝕡𝕥𝕖𝕣 𝕀𝕍: 𝕀𝕥'𝕤 𝕀𝕟 𝕐𝕠𝕦𝕣 𝕀𝕞𝕒𝕘𝕖 𝕀'𝕞 𝕄𝕒𝕕𝕖

Pairing: Neteyam x (f)Omaticaya!Reader

synopsis: Neteyam's actions leave you aching and shamed, and life is made difficult by your attempts to avoid him at all costs, until it dawns on you that, much like your entire relationship, nothing good ever happens without reciprocation.

warnings: 18+ minors DNI, aged-up! Neteyam/Reader, enemies-to-lovers, angst (mentions of violence, battle, blood, death), smut (oral - m receiving, orgasm denial), strong language, neteyam and reader being horrible to each other lol

wc: 6.4k words

a/n: we're in it now, besties. the plot thickens, much like reader/neteyam's steamy enmity and desire for each other. i hope you enjoy this chapter, and as always, thank you for asking to be tagged, commenting, sending me asks, it really keeps me going and i appreciate you so so much (thank you very much also to @cinetrix for her amazing Neteyam art and the prompt which inspired me so much and got me out of my writer's block ily bestie x)

na'vi compendium: yawne - beloved, Tsakarem - Tsa'hik in training, ketuwong - alien, txepvi - spark, teylupil - teylu-face, kurkung - asshole, skxawng - idiot, eveng - child, tsìltsan rewon - good morning, Oel ngati kameie - I see you, sa'nok - mother, ite - daughter, srane - yes, kä - go, Olo'eykte - female Olo'eyktan, tam-tam - calm, mawey - calm, oare - moon

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I'm only whatever you make me And you make me more and more a villain every day But you don't know, you reap, you sow Whatever you give to me, from yourself, you take Well, if you're a hater, then hate the creator It's in your image I'm made

The absence of his fingers, of him, from you, as he abandoned you, with your thoughts and insecurities, left you in a state of deep shock and shame - so much so, it took a good hour to finally get the strength to move the few steps it took to get to your tent.

Your mind was spinning with more thoughts then it could process, and as you continued worrying about the consequences of your actions, about all the ways Neteyam would find new ways to torture you and make you miserable, as you reeled from the ache that settled deep in your core from the emptiness he left behind, as you tried to understand the convoluted ways his mind worked and the reason he would ever do something like this to begin with, you found consciousness slipping away from you and in no time, you were asleep, taunted by dreams that you couldn’t find in you to call nightmares anymore, dreams about him finishing the job. At least in these dreams, you were safe, and he was nice, and his touch healed instead of breaking you further and further each day. You realise now it’s not what happens in these dreams that makes you think of them as nightmares, it’s the reality juxtaposed against them that sours their taste on your mind. It’s funny how even the purest, happiest moments can turn to ashes in your mouth when the backdrop is haunting and inimical.

It was evening when you woke, and the headache that accompanied your newfound conscious state was heightened by Lo’ak’s harsh voice, as he shook you back to a reality that still ached, that couldn’t have been better than the fantasies you just left behind.

“Lo’ak, stop shaking her, just give her a second.”

“Look, we have no time for pleasantries. She’s going to thank me for this.”

“Teylupil. Kurkung. Skxawng.” You curse in a hoarse, barely audible whisper, eliciting a laugh from Kiri and an exasperated groan from her little brother.

“Is this how you talk to the man that’s going to save you from an evening of misery?”

“What’re you talking about, you irksome little -“

“Just get up and I’ll tell you. What’re you doing asleep at this hour anyway?”

“Kiri, remove your brother before I remove him, and take one or two fingers with me.”

“Come on, Lo’ak, let’s make sure you’re still alive by Eclipse.”

You rose from your mat with a small wince as your head throbbed in pain.

“Are you alright?” Kiri’s hand was cold and soothing against your skin, and you placed your own hand on top of hers, grateful that she was here, if not for anything else, to dilute the intensity of Lo’ak’s personality while you were still recovering your strength. You couldn't look at your two favourite Sully siblings properly, not when the shame stung and dulled your senses, not when their eyes would remind you of his, and what you did.

“I’m fine, just… tired. I… broke up with O’i’en. Or actually, I guess he broke up with me.”

“Shit. Did he find out?”

You considered how much you should tell your friends about what transpired, knowing they’d have questions, knowing the answers might lead to more questions, some of which you couldn’t possible begin to explain.

“Yeah… Neteyam told him.”

“Fuck. I still don’t know what you possibly ever did to make Neteyam, who happens to be the most boring and calm person to walk this planet, so angry at you.”

You scoffed at Lo’ak’s statement, so obvious and speaking to a mystery that has plagued you for the last 7 years.

“Yeah… I love living my life paying for an imaginary slight he feels the need to remind me of every day.”

He thought about it for a second, his fingers stroking his chin in an obviously exaggerated contemplative manner.

“How do you know it’s imaginary if you don’t know what it is?”

The roll of your eye reminded you briefly of the headache that tried you, and how it was getting worse with each passing second you had to entertain this conversation.

“Look, even if it’s not, don’t you think it’s a little extreme?”

With a raise of his shoulders, Lo’ak continued.

“I guess… but it’s not like you make it easier for yourself.”

You felt your anger picking up speed, making your pulse quicken and heat rise in your cheeks.

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“I mean, you are just as bad to him. You’re both horrible to each other. Don’t get me wrong, it’s hilarious and we all get a kick out of it, but - OUCH, KIRI!” Lo’ak yelped in pain as soon as his sister’s elbow found its way in his ribs, and the theatrics continued as he collapsed on his side, until his head was on your lap.

“You’re the worst.”

“I still maintain my view that you both just need to fuck. Maybe this mateship is going to be the solution to all your problems.”

The flush of your cheeks brought about by anger only deepened at his words, that instilled memories that you still didn’t know whether you were trying to forget or imprint on your brain, memories that had no business flashing in front of your mind’s eye now, memories that might infer the beginning of the end of the world: Lo’ak finally being right about something.

“Yeah, cause what successful lifelong commitment hasn’t started with two people who despise each other?” You didn’t want to harp on a subject that you’d do everything to never have to talk about again, so you quickly changed the subject.

“Moving on. Why are you guys here?”

The two siblings exchanged awkward looks.

“Mum, dad and grandma were talking about you and Neteyam… about the ceremony and everything.” You could tell Kiri felt uncomfortable talking about the subject, and you were happy at least one of them was sensitive to the situation. “They want to sit you both down and pick a date. Grandma said something about the sooner the better. We thought you’d rather eat a Talioang tongue than do that, so we came to give you a heads up.”

Well, so much for changing the subject. You groaned, moving Lo’ak out of the way so you can raise your knees and place your head in between them, trying to make the world stop shaking and your heart stop trying to escape out of your chest. This can’t be happening. Not so soon.

“What did Neteyam say?”

“Neteyam hasn’t returned home, which isn’t like him. Have you seen him at all today?”

“No.” You lied.

That was weird. Why would Neteyam not return home? It’s not like he had any reason to hide, unlike you. You’d think he’d be the first one back in the tent, waiting to see if you’d show up for dinner, with a smug smirk plastered on his face, so ready and willing to taunt you for your momentary lapse in judgement and for being able to rub in the fact he won one more battle in your never-ending war, that until now was even, but now, felt completely thrown off balance.

“Do you want to get out of here?” The magic words, spoken to you almost like in a dream, pulling you out of your intense musings about the speaker’s older brother.

“It’s almost eclipse. You’re gonna get in trouble.”

Lo’ak snickered and rolled his eyes, almost upset that you would ever think that’s something he should care about.

“Come on. We can go to the labs, chill with the humans for a night.”

“As tempting as that is, I don’t think aiding and abetting the Olo’eyktan’s kids to leave after curfew is going to improve my situation in any way. You should go back. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Lo’ak huffed and puffed, but did as he was told, not before he left you with one last nugget of information.

“By the way, Norm and Max intercepted some new intel about a mission the ketuwong are planning. It’s in two days. Dad wants us all in strategy meetings and training all day tomorrow. That includes you. As soon as eclipse is over.”

“Roger that. Now go.” You kissed both of them on their foreheads, and watched as they left you with your thoughts.

Questions and worries plagued your mind, all, like most times, revolving around the oldest Sully sibling. Ponderations of how or why, of when or what, all swirling, all fluttering away, none of them settling enough to be thought about in detail, all of them flailing about, knocking every other thought from your consciousness until you were a panted mess of breaths and ringing heartbeats. You couldn’t be here.

Curfew has always been more of a suggestion to you than an order, so with that mentality deeply embedded in you still, you picked up your knife and bow and made your way out, walking past the Sully tent and into the thick forest, to a place you haven’t been in since that night Mo’at announced your engagement. You tried to shake the unnerved feeling that still haunted you as you remembered what last transpired there.

As you trekked past foliage and snuck past apex predators that were out hunting for the night, you eventually reached the meadow you've always loved so much. You didn't have time to breathe out a sigh a relief as you noticed a navy blue form turned away from you, toned, muscular back full on display. You would always recognise this body and the man who inhabited it, now and forever, as long as you would live, but still, you almost couldn't believe what your eyes were clearly showing you.

Neteyam was deep in thought as his feet dangled in the lake in which you liked to bathe and relax normally, that used to be a sacred place for you, one more thing he ruined in the time you've known him. He didn't hear you, you realise suddenly, and you were glad. He was the last person you wanted to see and you didn't know what you were feeling in this moment as you watched him, so unlike the Neteyam you always got to experience, so far removed from the man that always had his guard on around you, that was smug and arrogant, and primed to hurt you with every possibility that presented itself to him. This felt more like the Neteyam you used to know and love, that everyone else still gets to know and love, that you hear so much about on a day to day basis - the peaceful Neteyam, the considerate and shy Neteyam, the golden son, the epitome of what made the Omaticaya special.

You stayed hidden in the shrubbery that concealed the meadow, just watching him, and as the time continued, you found yourself relaxing, your own thoughts percolating and settling one at a time, until you processed as many of them as you had the strength to. A few things became clear to you. The priority right now were the Sky People. You had to fight, and you had to do it well - too many people relied on you for you to give anything else than your 100%. Neteyam was a distraction you couldn't afford - not right now, and not until this was done. Avoiding him at all costs seemed like the smart thing to do. Revenge could wait... for a little while. You pushed the reminder of the ceremony discussion from your brain. You didn't have enough power to consider the implications of the talk the Sully patriarch and matriarchs wanted to have with you and Neteyam. It was too soon.

Other things, you were more confused about than ever. In the end, you left with more questions than you came with, leaving him to his own devices, knowing you'll soon regret not having gotten at least a couple hours sleep before the two days ahead, both difficult, both with enough power to take more from you than you were willing to ever lose.

Why is he here?

What is he thinking about?

Were you on his mind at all?

Did you even want to be?

Could you stand it if you weren't?

You made it back to the village right as Jake and Neytiri came out, a sleepy, uncooperative Lo'ak following close behind.

"Ma eveng, tsìltsan rewon. Oel ngati kameie."

"Oel ngati kameie, sa'nok."

Neytiri made her way to you with wide, gentle steps. She always reminded you of these humans you once saw in a video the scientists showed you when you were younger, called ballerinas. She had so much poise, so much gentle, quiet power, that you have tried to emulate your entire life. Despite it paining you to admit, Neytiri was more your mother, more a role model, than your own mother ever had been. When she reached you, her hands found your face, that she stroked gently, running her thumbs under your eyes.

"Please tell me you've slept, 'ite."

Your tail stilled midair as you were caught red-handed, and you knew you either had to lie, a concept only familiar to you after being around humans, and one that you have to admit you found useful in certain circumstances, or deal with a long lecture, that you were much too tired for.

"Srane, sa'nok."

She gave you a skeptical look, one that told you she didn't quite believe you, but knew better than to probe, at least not in front of the Olo'eyktan, who would give you the ass kicking of a lifetime if he knew you weren't going to give your 110% over the following days.

"Kä. Get your bow and quiver and meet us on the training grounds."

You did as you were told, changing quickly while you were at it, realising briefly you have been in the same garbs for a long time now, something your mum would have told you off about. She always looked her best, always beautiful and presentable, always the most sought-after woman in the village. She had no grand aspirations, not like you, or like your father, who wanted nothing more for you than to be a warrior and a fighter, to be the best of the best, the best of them all. If it was up to him, you would be Olo'eykte. You tried to make both of them proud in their own ways - your mother, by continuing her secret weaving technique and always wearing the special garbs that only your family knew how to make, and your father, by becoming the pride and prodigy of your clan, and sharing that title with only one other person, none other than the prince of the Omaticaya.

Your heart picked up pace as you reached the grounds and in front of his parents stood Neteyam, looking perfect as always, not a single stray hair on his head, his braids flowing softly in the wind and chiming when the beads adorning them knocked into each other. You've always loved Neteyam's hair. It was always perfectly braided, and so weirdly emotive and... alive, sometimes looking like it moved on its own accord, a little like the tail that you saw moving in a circle, a sign he was not happy - what else was new?

When Jake spotted you, he nodded in your direction, which made everyone's attention shift to you, including his, and when his eyes trailed over your body, widening minutely, mouth slightly agape, you felt your cheeks burn and ears twitch nervously. He gained composure as quickly as he lost it, the slightly taken aback expression far removed from the one now displayed on his face, that he reserved for you, that you hated with every fibre of your being. The moment of vulnerability you witnessed yesterday was long gone, replaced by his usual contempt he liked to emanate as soon as you entered his personal bubble. You wondered if he was gonna rub your nose in it, if he was going to declare it to the world, let his friends know that you were another name to add to the catalogue of women he's fucked, or if he wouldn't want anyone to know - his little secret, only for his twisted mind to keep and thrive on. Your own mind tortured you with scenarios, each one worse than the last, before Jake pulled you out of your nightmarish thoughts.

"Kid. Come on, now, you can't go all mellow on me today. Tomorrow's a big one, I need you here, I need you with me. Can I count on you?"

"Yes, sir."

By the end of the day, that now went well into the night, you were more tired than you could remember being in years, and between the strategising meetings, the weapon training, the military drill exercises, and the hand to hand combat that Jake insisted would, at some point in your life, become useful, your brain was fried and your body sore and covered in mud and twigs.

The dirt that covered every inch of you was the kind which would stick to your skin and your hair for days on end, without any sliver of hope that it could get removed. You knew your braids were ruined, and so were your garbs, that you worked so hard for, that were all you had left of your family and your ancestors. It was a good day, you tried to remind yourself. A successful day. That’s all that mattered -not your clothes, nor the man that you were trying to avoid like he was a plague, or his gaze, or the heat that emanated from his body, or the memory of his fingers or his torturous ministrations.

“Good job today, both of you. Now go wash the muck off of you at the river and be back in 30 minutes so we can go over it and discuss what went right and what could have gone better. Dismissed.”

“Um- can I go to the lake instead?” The thought of being alone with Neteyam made your skin crawl. Is that what that was? It had to be. Skin crawling… yes, not goosebumps and shivers down your spine. Skin crawling…

You cringed a little at Jake’s expression, and his raised eyebrow which most of the time, and especially now, indicated annoyance or grievance.

“The lake is far, plus you wouldn’t be able to make it back in 30 minutes, kid. And it’s still dark. Is there a reason the normal river is not to your taste anymore?”

Your tail stopped in its tracks at his slight admonishment, ears pushed back so far, they were flat against your head. You hated disappointing Jake, almost as much as you hated Neteyam.

“No, sir.”

At the sight of you, Jake’s expression melted away and was replaced with a soft smile, one exclusively reserved for his kids. He approached you quietly and patted your head affectionately.

“That’s what I thought. Now come on, off you go, you little troublemaker.”

It was a short trek to the river that most Na’vi used as a personal bathing station, that was now deserted for the night. The training lasted longer than expected, and you knew eclipse would be over in a short couple of hours. You felt Neteyam’s eyes boring into your back and you did everything in your power to forget that he was there, but alas, it was near impossible when his presence overwhelmed your every sense, when it took over any thought in your mind, when the embarrassment of your encounter still rings painfully in you, telling you to run, or hide, or get your petty little revenge so he stopped having the upper hand in this scenario. The latter option, much as it has for years now, seems like the most obvious, the most alluring one.

The devious plan, that was just a slight variation of his own, as it usually was, was taking a more defined form in your mind with each passing second, especially after remembering the little human snap bracelets that were stronger than any Na'vi rope you owned, that were light and easy to carry, and that you conveniently happened to have in the little pouch that dangled from your waist. You just needed the perfect opportunity, and you believed in making your own luck.

Without looking behind you, you got into the river, purposefully bending until your hands reached your ankles, that you started rubbing and cleaning, taking your time as you moved slowly upwards, your ass fully on display for the male you knew would be watching, as he, too, was cleaning the day off him.

"Can you be any more obvious, yawne? You might as well have a 'fuck me' sign plastered all over you. Is that all it took, three fingers in that pretty cunt and you forgot you hate me?"

You ignored his words and continued cleaning yourself, until you were so squeaky clean, someone could eat off your body, which now, you felt like you craved more than food itself.

When you were done, you got out of the river, once more trying to be as sensual and inviting as you could, and you smirked as you heard him get out as well, his presence inundating your senses as he approached you, the way it always did.

"Are you finally going to apologise and behave? I knew you would event-"

You quickly turned and pushed him backwards, until he fell, a pained gasp escaping his lips as his back made contact with a tree. The snap of the cuffs was more satisfying than you would ever care to admit as they tightened around his hand, and almost as satisfying to you as his realisation of what you’ve done, of the fact that he was trapped, at your disposal, at your mercy.

“Let me out.” The growl he let out was low and feral, unamused at best and frightening at worst. Lucky for you, you’ve never really been scared of Neteyam. The smirk that blossomed on your face deepened as you watched him, squirming and pulling at the cuffs with all his might, getting angrier with every second he couldn’t untie himself. His tail was moving furiously behind him, slapping his calf with erratic, uncoordinated movements.

“You know, Neteyam... For far too long now, it felt like you had control over our dynamic. I hated it, every day, feeling weaker than you. When you came and grabbed me by the throat, it was the first time in my life I almost felt scared of you. When you came and told O’í'en about us, I felt almost like life was slipping away from my grasp and you were the quicksand through which it was falling. When you… when we-“ it took you a while to compose yourself and subside the purple stain of your cheeks as you remembered how he left you. “You made me feel things I have never felt before. And then you left. And I felt almost ashamed. I had just got out of a serious relationship, I broke someone’s heart, and all I could think of, was your fingers. I felt weak, and I hate feeling weak.”

You took advantage of the way he was entranced by your words, too focused on you for anything else, and took his other hand and tied it on an opposing branch.

“Fuck! Let me go!” His legs were thrashing in front of him as he struggled to undo the human contraption, but if there’s one thing you learned, is that humans knew how to imprison and hurt other beings the best, and for once, you didn’t mind taking a page from their books.

“Tsk tsk tsk… no, Neteyam, what do you say?”

“Fucking let me go, you little -“

“Mmm…” you pretended to think about it for a while. “No… i don’t think that’s it. Y’want to try again?”

He hissed at you, a hiss that sounded more like a roar than anything else, and heat ignited in your core at its sound, mighty and powerful, wild and untamed. Still, you kept your composure and the sweet smile that you knew would anger him further.

“No, that’s not either. You say ‘please’.”

You knelt in between his thighs, thick and muscular, and put a hand on each one, steadying yourself as you found yourself on your knees, heart thundering in your chest at your plan, that, despite the adrenaline, seemed more and more deranged with every passing second. His breath stilled at your touch, as did his body, his legs now limp on either side of you. His expression shifted, from one of unadulterated anger to pure shock, and a flicker of muted awe, eyes wide and mouth agape, canines tucked away behind his beautiful lips, that he wet with a swipe of his tongue.

“What are you doing?”

“What do you think I’m doing, Ne-te-yam?”

Your fingers dug in the meat of his lower limbs, thumb trailing over his inner thighs as you moved upwards, massaging him, stopping right before the part of him you itched to touch most, smiling to yourself as his breath laboured with every inch transversed. You wrapped your slender digits around his loincloth, making quick work of the knot that would have been safe from most other people, but not you - you and Neteyam learnt this knot together, back when you were still you and he was still him. Back when he loved you. No matter how much he wanted to forget you and what you meant to each other, he would never be able to, because you’ll always be there to use those memories - that he banished from the night of his mind - against him.

“You see, Neteyam… I’m not the most creative person, unlike you.”

His cock sprung free and you swallowed a gasp along with the saliva that gathered instantly in your mouth. He was huge, and for the first time in your life, you found yourself thinking… pretty, too. There was something almost ethereal about him, deep contrasted stripes running alongside his length, the pattern of his luminous freckles so exciting, you wanted to run your fingers… or your tongue, over them, connecting them with your mind to uncover the pattern it would form, one you wouldn’t mind getting to know over and over again, until it was imprinted into you, into your skin, into your mouth.

You looked at him, back against the bark of a tree, just as yours had been before, his arousal, that he tried to hard to mask on his face, given away by the endless pits that were his pupils, which almost completely swallowed his beautiful golden-green irises.

“Let. Me. Go. Or I swear to Eywa, I will make you pa-“

“Pay, yes, yes.. I’ve heard the speech before. And you know what? I know you’ll make me pay. You’re good at that. You like to think of these new ways to ruin my life, all inventive and new, all of them difficult to stomach and so, so pleasurable for you at the time, aren’t they? Yes… I’m not very creative, so keep in mind that anything I ever do, is your burden to carry… yawne. You made me, everything you hate about me, everything I hate about myself…”

You wrap your fingers around his cock, hard and throbbing under your touch, and watch as he throws his head back and lets out a small, intemperate groan.

“… I learnt from you.”

Slowly, you start moving up and down along his shaft, taking your time, observing every twitch of the muscles of his face, all the ways he was trying to refrain himself from giving into the pleasure that was wearing his resolve down. His eyes were so tightly shut, you wondered if it hurt, and you hoped it did. You hoped it all hurt, just as it hurt you. You turn your attention back to his cock, that was throbbing in your hand, and noticed the glowy liquid now covering the slit of his pink-purplish mushroomy tip.

“Am I making you feel good, yawne? I must be, since you’re dripping all over my fingers.” The sense of deja-vu couldn’t be lost on the male writhing beneath you, and you hoped every second of the incident was playing through his mind, like it has been in yours, ever since it happened. Not being able to contain yourself any longer, you sank down until your lips wrapped around him, the sweet taste of his precum staining your tongue as you swirled it around his tip, licking it clean. The moan that escaped him was music to your ears, erotic and sonorous and so unbridled, despite his best efforts, that it spurred you on, that it made you want to explore every inch of him until every striation of his cock was imprinted on your throat.

And so you did. Your mouth stretched to accommodate for his length and girth, too big for even your best efforts, and your hand wrapped around his base to reach what your mouth couldn't. You gagged as his hips bucked upwards, driving his cock deeper down your throat, until the tip was tickling the back of it. You stopped yourself from thinking about your heart skipping alternate beats as soon as his tail wrapped tightly around your thigh, almost as if claiming you, bringing you closer to him, attaching himself to you, almost if his body was telling you a secret he tried his hardest to repress, one that he could never speak out loud.

You could tell he was itching to free his hand, to entangle his fingers in your hair and use you as his own personal toy. He was itching for the control he desperate craved when it came to you, that you denied him, that you now had over him, that made him weak and puny under your touch.

You hallowed your cheeks as you devoted everything you had to sucking him off, the saliva pooling down his shaft and balls facilitating the bob of your head, that got faster and deeper the longer you did it, the longer his moans, that could no longer be contained inside of him, filled your favourite meadow and your ears, nestling in your body and making their way to your core, that ached and throbbed, that begged you to ride his cock until you were both just a limp mess of limbs on the mossy ground. Your movements met his synchronously, working in perfect harmony, as his heels dug into the ground and he started wildly thrusting in your mouth, his self-control long gone, as the pleasure reached new zeniths and you knew he was close to orgasm.

"F-fuck! Fuck, oh, please!"

Hearing him beg brought you to the brink of your own release, and with a couple more strokes, you released him from your mouth with a pop, sucking on his tip just a little extra, as if he was your own personal lollipop, just like the ones Norm introduced you to as a child. This one was so much better, though.

His eyes opened wildly as the lack of stimulation registered in his mind, chest heaving and mouth open, tail untangling from your body and thrashing violently, as the high came crashing down abruptly, just like yours had. You smiled, flicking your index finger over your lips and chin, gathering the remnants of his arousal before you closed your lips over it, sucking on it enthusiastically, eyes locked onto his own, dark and feral, and for the first time in a really long while, completely lost in you.

“You taste fucking amazing, tsxepvi. Maybe next time, if you apologise and behave, you’ll actually get to cum.”

You got up from your spot on the ground, removing your knife from its sheath and bringing it to one of the cuffs that looked like it had marked his wrist, and with a careful swipe, you freed him. Without sparing him a second look, you turned around and walked away, speaking as you left him, still shackled by one hand, naked and vulnerable, happy with yourself, unwilling to consider yet again the consequences of your actions and how the fear of retaliation, that you knew would be painful and ghastly, would hit you with enough intensity to cower you, just as soon as the adrenaline wore off.

"I trust you can get yourself untied... yawne. See you on the battlefield."

A few hours later, you could barely think straight, by the time you were preparing your beautiful ikran for battle, as she was dutifully waiting on you to finish, trilling softly whenever you pet her in between chores.

“Tam, tam, Oare.”

You felt guilty at the way you’ve handled the past few days, as images of O’i’en swirled in your tired, progressively drowsier mind, at how it took you no time to do… everything you did with a man you hated, a man that more and more it seemed your ex was somewhat right about, despite how much you wanted to banish the thought into the pits of Hell, where it belonged. You started to regret the fact you have not taken the opportunity to sleep when the opportunity presented itself to you, and now you were about to go into one of the most dangerous missions of your life, one that may even infer the future of your clan, worn-out and distracted, body trembling under the weight of your mistakes.

You spotted the man that affected you in ways no one else seemed capable to, face and body painted in war patterns, just like yours was, and winced a little when you realised he was already watching you, deep hatred imbued in his features - you knew there and then you were in for a world of pain, if you ever survived this mission to begin with. It actually hurt, thinking of all the ways he could still make your life a living nightmare, his ingenuity knowing little bounds and never diminishing throughout the years.

“You ready, kid? I need my little star in tip-top shape today. We’re all counting on you, you know?”

Jake’s voice, usually soothing and calming, was grating to your ears, although you had a sneaking suspicion it wasn’t the voice itself as much as what the voice uttered, words that you didn’t want to hear at all, words that pushed you near the brink of collapse, whose weight you always almost buckled under, but now, with everything else going on, brought you to your knees. Still, you nodded, the desire to please and make him proud of you outweighing anything else you wanted to say, like asking for permission to sit this one out, like how, right now, you felt more like a liability than an asset. You had to do this, and you would, because they needed you, because they relied on you.

“That’s what I like to hear.” He tapped the little choker that was tied around your neck. “Make sure this is on, alright?”

“Yes, sir.”

The war cries echoed through the Hallelujah mountain as the full might of the Omaticaya clan erupted through the floating rocks, bearing down on the helicopters and ships that were looking and scanning for signs of life, that were ready and armed to kill and torture, to destroy and burn life to the ground. On top of your ikran, bow tight in your hand, you normally felt unstoppable. You were unstoppable. Before you even had time to register it, 3 helicopters fell at Neytiri, Jake and Neteyam's hands, crashing into the mountains before exploding into nothingness, never to be seen again.

In the midst of all the chaos, you tried not to think about how hard it was to control Oare, how your own frenzied, disruptive consciousness was affecting her ability to fly and focus, how that in turn was making you miss shots you would have never missed otherwise, how that was further weakening your state, the whole endeavour a vicious cycle you saw no escape from.

"Mawey... mawey." you couldn't tell if you were talking to your ikran or to yourself, as you pet her gently, trying to return you both to a state in which you could be present and useful, the way you were expected to be.

The sudden pain that rushed over you was excruciating, worse than anything you’ve ever felt, worse than all your previous injuries put together, and with a trumping heart and fear poisoning your blood, that felt like it was spilling out of your body more with each passing second, you looked down at yourself, trying to assess the situation. There was nothing. The pain deepened as soon as realisation hit that the fatal wound and the ache that followed wasn’t yours, although it might as well have been.

“No…” your beautiful ikran, that has been with you every day of your life since you were 12, that not only witnessed, but facilitated every one of your victories, that was integral part of your life and happiness, that made you feel seen and understood, let out a screech so loud and filled with anguish, one that would haunt you for the rest of your life, that settled in your bone marrow and will forever have a home there, until your last day on this planet.

As she drew her last breath, you felt every ounce of happiness dissipate from your being, along with any sense of self, any sense of purpose. You had no time to dwell on your immense loss, not as your queues broke apart with her departure from this plane, leaving you in a free fall that would make sure that while you lost your sister, you would be following her close behind. The last thing you saw before you felt darkness enveloping you was Neteyam, and your last thought was how you must have imagined his panicked look and the tortured howl that left his body, as his hand reached out for you, his own ikran diving towards your falling form at full speed.

I sleep with one eye open and one eye closed 'Cause I'll hang myself if you give me rope I lost all my faith and lost all hope That everything means anything at all

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helloalycia · 5 months

Text

𝐈 𝐕𝐎𝐋𝐔𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐄𝐑 [𝐓𝐖𝐎] // 𝐋𝐔𝐂𝐘 𝐆𝐑𝐀𝐘 𝐁𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐃

summary: Reaping Day is finally upon you and you know what you have to do, but there's only one problem: Lucy Gray wouldn't let you.

warning/s: again, the usual warnings that come with writing the Hunger Games stuff + potential suicidal themes.

author's note: this is the second and final part - i do hope you all like it. also i hope the person who requested it enjoys!!

one / masterlist / wattpad

Reaping Day was fast approaching, taking place next week, and I still wasn't sure what to do. I hadn't told Lucy Gray nor the Covey of Mayfair's plan, but it was killing me inside. After a lot of thought, I soon made a decision. The only thing I was certain about was that I couldn't allow Lucy Gray to have her life stolen away, not when mine was right there for the taking. So, I was going to take her place. As long as the Capitol had their tribute, they wouldn't care who it was.

But Lucy Gray would. She'd never allow it, never be so selfish as to let someone else volunteer to die for her. But I could never let her go up there to die, so with that in mind, I concocted the perfect plan to keep her alive.

The night before the reaping arrived, I'd managed to convince Lucy Gray to let me sleep over at hers, claiming I was worried and wanted to feel safe on an otherwise horrible evening. Of course, she fell for it instantly, only reminding me of how right I was to do this. She was too sweet for her own good, especially to me.

The rest of the Covey were in their rooms preparing for bed when I returned from the kitchen to Lucy Gray's room with two glasses of water.

"Here," I said, passing her the glass before taking a seat on my makeshift bed on the floor beside her actual bed.

"Thanks," she said, before taking a sip. She pulled a face and looked at her glass. "Does that taste weird to you?"

I sipped my own water and played dumb, shaking my head. "It's alright to me."

She furrowed her brows, "Huh," before downing the rest of it and putting it next to her bed.

I told myself that slipping some of my dad's crushed sleeping pills in her water was for her own good, that it needed to happen to keep her safe, but a small part of me still felt guilty for tricking her like this. I needed her to sleep in though, to miss the reaping, or at least miss the part where they call her name. After all, she couldn't stop me from volunteering if she wasn't there to witness it happen.

We both laid down in our beds, getting comfortable under our duvets. In the quiet of the evening, I could hear Tam Amber snoring from next door and smiled to myself at the familiarity. It would be the last I'd hear of it, ever.

"I don't have a good feelin' about tomorrow," Lucy Gray said quietly, earning my attention.

"Huh?"

She sounded cautious. "Something is tellin' me Mayfair has something' up her sleeve." I widened my eyes slightly, wondering if she knew what I did, but then she let out a deep, tired sigh and said, "I can't wait for it to be over."

I frowned to myself. "Me too."

She yawned, and I knew I didn't have long before she'd fall asleep, which meant I only had so much time left with her before I'd never speak to her again. That thought alone brought tears to my eyes.

"No matter what happens tomorrow, I'm glad you've been my friend, Lucy Gray," I said honestly.

"Shut up," she said lightheartedly, an echo of a laugh present in her tired voice. "You're already sayin' goodbye and nothin' has happened."

"You never know," I said, glad that it was dark so she couldn't see me, because I wasn't sure I could say all this to her face. "Just listen, okay? I need you to know that I love you and I couldn't have asked for a better person in my life. Thank you for always being there for me. For caring."

"I love you, too," she said between a yawn, "more than you know, darlin'. And I'll tell you again tomorrow mornin', when we're still together. Idiot."

A smile formed on my lips at her teasing, but the tears slipped from my eyes because I was going to miss her so much, so much more than she would ever know.

"Y/N?"

"Yeah?"

"Thank you, too, for bein' here right now," she said, though she was already slipping away, voice slowing down between each word.

"Of course," I said quietly. "Always."

She chuckled, or an attempt at a chuckle in her exhausted state. "I'll hold you to that," she said jokingly, before yawning again. "Mmm super tired. G'night..."

"Goodnight, Lucy Gray."

When I woke up to the sun shining in my eyes the next morning, I looked over at Lucy Gray and saw her fast asleep in bed. I tried to wake her, but she didn't budge, and I prayed that it would stay that away until the reaping was over.

Quickly getting ready, I could hear the others doing the same in the house. And then a succession of knocks was heard on Lucy Gray's door and Barb Azure poked her head in.

"Y/N, Lucy Gray, we've gotta–" she started, but stopped when she saw Lucy Gray still in bed. "For goodness sake, Lucy Gray, we're gonna be late! You've got–"

"I'll get her up and out of here, don't worry," I reassured Barb Azure with a nod and smile. "We'll meet you in the square."

Relieved, she nodded. "Okay, good. Good luck."

I smiled appreciatively before watching her leave, and then my smile faded and I focused on finishing getting ready. After pulling on my shoes and tying up my hair, I looked over at Lucy Gray who was still out like a light, unbothered by the noise or the daylight. She was lying on her side, duvet half covering her, and her curly hair sprawled across her pillow and in her eyes. I leaned down, moving the loose strand behind her ear, before taking in her appearance once more.

"I'm sorry," I whispered to her, not that it would have made a difference. "I love you, Lucy Gray, and I know you're gonna be angry and upset at first, but you'll get over it. You'll get over me. The Covey, they– they need you."

Swallowing hard and holding back my tears, sick of crying, I leaned forward and pressed a kiss to her forehead before standing up and sucking up a deep breath. Pulling the duvet on her a little more, I forced myself to turn and leave, not wanting to linger any longer.

By the time I reached the square, everyone eligible for the reaping was already lined up in order of age. Just as I was about to join them, Barb Azure, who was nineteen and no longer to be considered, caught my gaze and sent me a questioning look.

'She's there', I mouthed, lying, and pointing to the lined up teens.

She didn't seem to understand, but it didn't matter because a Peacekeeper was already yelling orders at me, and then I was shoved into line and the mayor was telling everybody to quieten down. After his usual spiel about the importance of the Games, no doubt a script given to him from the Capitol, he began to dig his hand into a bag of slips with everyone's names on it. Yanking it out, he barely glanced at it before announcing what I feared.

"The District Twelve girl tribute is Lucy Gray Baird."

Murmurs flew around instantly, everyone looking around to find her, and I thanked my stars that she was safely asleep back home.

"Lucy Gray Baird," the mayor repeated, only intensifying the murmurs and leaving everyone confused. That was my chance.

Raising my hand, I said in the most confident voice I could muster, "I volunteer as tribute!"

Nobody knew what to do, but all eyes were on me, including the stupid cameras the Capitol brought with them, televising the whole thing. The mayor seemed surprised because it was absolute insanity that somebody would volunteer – why would you want to die?

The Peacekeepers took a moment to jump into action, eventually guiding me to the stage as they were supposed to. I passed Billy Taupe on the way, who was looking awfully guilty for someone who was once family to the Covey, and then I passed Mayfair, who was silently raging at the sight of her plans falling to pieces.

Once I stepped onstage and turned around, I caught sight of the Covey scattered in the crowd, between those that were potential tributes and those that were too old/young to take part. They seemed shocked, but I found Barb Azure's eyes and smiled a little, offering a reassuring nod. I hoped she would understand.

Lastly, my eyes found my father's, a struggle at first, considering he was tucked away at the back, forced to be present but not wanting to be. He seemed surprised at my volunteering and, for a split second, I thought he cared. But his actions remain still and I know it was probably just good riddance for him, nothing more.

I didn't expect anything less.

Only when I was on the train, being carted away to my death with the other twenty-three tributes, did I feel complete and utter relief for Lucy Gray. She was truly safe, free from the Games for another year at least, which was more than I could ask for. And maybe Mayfair would get over her vendetta by then, who knew?

Of course, now that the relief had settled in, it didn't take long for it to be replaced by concern because now I was in the Games. And I had no plan, no strategy, nothing.

After the Games...

I wasn't sure how I managed it, but I'd won. I'd really done the impossible, and barely a week later, I found myself on a train back to District Twelve with a little money and a broken arm, but otherwise alive.

Even though I'd expected to die, winning never really being an option, my survival instincts kept kicking in and I just kept getting lucky. And now here I was.

I could never forget what I'd witnessed during the Games, ever, and I wasn't sure if it was worth winning if it meant I would be haunted by all I'd experienced. But I couldn't argue with it because I was finally returning home and I didn't know what to think. It had only been a week, but I'd left a girl and was returning a murderer.

After the train pulled into the station, I was on my own and didn't even think about where my feet were taking me until I found myself walking through the Seam, back to my house. I was relieved to find my dad was at work, not in the mood to face him after all this time. I wasn't sure if anybody even knew I was alive, that I'd won, considering nobody here even had a working TV.

After all I'd endured in the Games, my father was the least of my worries. I refused to be pushed around by him anymore and knew I was going to leave as soon as I could. Even if it meant camping outside, living on the streets, I'd go. I'd figure something out, but for now, I was just lucky to be able to see my bedroom again.

As I sat on my lumpy bed and breathed a sigh of relief, I thought of the Covey, and then of Lucy Gray. Oh, how I'd missed her dearly. She was the only thought I'd had this past week, all of this being for her in the first place. I was just glad she hadn't had to endure everything I had. The guilt and shame of my actions to bring me where I was now was eating away at me, but I would have rather it been me than her.

I missed her, so so much. And I knew I couldn't wait any longer, so I immediately got up and headed straight for their house. It wasn't far from my own, though there's was much closer to the woods. When I approached, I saw Maude Ivory and Tam Amber sat outside, the former milking her goat and the latter planting some flowers. It was Maude Ivory who did a double take first, before she shouted my name and immediately ran up to me, startling me with an intense hug.

It had felt like forever since I'd had any human affection, and I couldn't help but return her hug with a relieved smile, missing her.

"I can't believe you're back!" she was saying, as the others soon began to join one by one, hugging me tightly.

"You really won!"

"We saw you on the TV one night, we were so scared."

"Thank you for volunteerin', you saved our Lucy Gray's life."

I could barely keep up with their compliments, unsure how to respond, but touched that they cared enough to be here.

And then I saw Lucy Gray, finally, as she walked out from the back door of the house, mouth agape when she noticed me. My eyebrows raised a little, hopeful, upon seeing her again. It hadn't been long, and yet it had felt like forever since I'd last seen her.

Barb Azure began to motion to the others to follow her back inside. "Let's give them some space, everyone."

They began to leave, doing just that, and without their presence, I suddenly felt exposed before Lucy Gray. I straightened up, trying to look a little more presentable, but acutely self conscious of my black eye, scarred lip and broken arm.

"Hey," I said, embarassed at how quiet it came out.

She stopped before me, watching me like I was a ghost. "You're really here."

I nodded slowly. "Yeah. I didn't think I would be, but somehow, I won."

But it wasn't somehow, was it? I knew what I did to win.

She suddenly frowned, looking betrayed. "You drugged me."

Realising she was upset, I said, "It was only a sleeping pill."

Her stare hardened. "You knew. You knew it was going to be my name."

I cowered away slightly, saying, "I overheard–"

"You lied to me," she cut me off, "drugged me, volunteered like a fool and–"

"It couldn't be you," I told her sternly. "You're needed here. They need you and I couldn't let you be chosen because of some silly feud, not when I found out. It had to be me. Nobody would miss me and–"

"I would!" she shouted, and I realised her eyes were full of tears as she glared at me. "You asshole, I would! I did! I needed you! You don't get to trick me and make that choice for me and just leave!"

I felt horribly guilty as she spoke, but deep down, I didn't regret my actions.

"Lucy Gray, you would've gotten over me," I said calmly, looking between her eyes. "You would've."

She narrowed her eyes with a glare. "Fuck you."

"Lucy–"

"No, fuck you!" she yelled, shoving me backwards. "You don't get to say that! Like you know how I feel about you!"

I pressed my lips together, feeling my heart ache as tears rolled down her cheeks.

"Fuck you," she murmured, before turning around and storming away, past the house and towards the meadow.

I frowned, watching her leave and feeling immense guilt pressing on my chest. I'd never seen her so upset, not in all the time I'd known her, and knowing I was the reason for it only made this whole thing worse.

Barb Azure left the house and approached me with an apologetic frown on her lips.

"I heard what happened," she said sympathetically. "Sorry."

I shook my head. "I didn't mean to upset her."

"We're all grateful for what you did," she said. "She is, too. A small part. But mostly, she's upset because she grieved you. Tried to, at least. She thought you were dead."

"I was supposed to be, if it helps," I mumbled. "I didn't think I'd be coming back here, facing her like this."

It was supposed to be a faceless goodbye. She wasn't supposed to see me again, nor I her. Now, I'd only made things worse.

"She missed you so much," Barb Azure told me knowingly. "She's angry and stubborn, but she missed you, Y/N. Go to her."

I looked up, seeing the encouraging smile on her lips, and figured if anyone knew Lucy Gray more than she did, it was her family. So, with that slight positivity in mind, I followed in the direction of Lucy Gray with hope to fix this. It didn't take long for me to find her in the meadow, sat by her favourite tree and hunched over, crying into her hands.

I tried to approach quietly, but she noticed and suddenly stood up, turning around to glare at me through her tears.

"What do you want? Go away!" she ordered.

I ignored her, taking a step forward, and she only yelled at me more.

"I said go away! I don't wanna speak to you right now!"

Again, I ignored her and continued to approach her.

"Leave me alone, you asshole! I said leave!"

I hugged her before she could protest even more, my good arm tightening around her shoulders desperately, and then she finally stopped shouting and hugged me back just as tightly. I squeezed my eyes shut, tears threatening to spill because I never thought I'd see her again, let alone hug her like my life depended on it.

"I'm sorry," I said into her shoulder. "I'm sorry a million times over, Lucy Gray. I never wanted to hurt you, but I don't regret what I did. I'd volunteer every single time."

She gripped my shirt in response, but didn't say anything. I swallowed hard before pulling away reluctantly, meeting her eyes with regret.

"I'm a fool, I know," I agreed with her words from before. "I'm sorry."

Her lip quivered as her eyes darted around my face, taking it in, fixating on the bruise and my scarred lip. She lifted her hand, touching my cheek tenderly, and my breath was caught in my throat at the attention.

"It weren't supposed to be you," she whispered with a broken voice.

"Nor you," I reminded her. "Mayfair cheated."

She shook her head, frowning and meeting my eyes. "You promised you wouldn't get involved, Y/N."

I exhaled through my nose, a sad smile on my lips. "I couldn't help it."

She didn't say anything, simply stared at me, and then she took a seat on the log next to the tree and I joined her, unsure what to do or say.

"I can't believe you're here," she admitted. "I thought I'd never see you again." Her eyes flickered between mine thoughtfully, before lowering to my broken arm in a sling. "How did it happen?"

I looked down at it, hesitating.

"Sorry, I shouldn't have asked," she said quickly, regretfully, but I shook my head.

"No, it's–" I paused, frowning shamefully. "It's how I won."

She grabbed my hand suddenly, making me look up at her.

"You don't have to tell me," she reassured with a nod.

I looked down at her hand on mine, nerves creeping in. "You wanna know, but... you won't look at me the same. And I don't want to lose you."

"Whatever you did in that arena isn't a reflection of who you are," she said with such a determination that I almost believed her. "It was life or death. And if it meant you're here now, alive, then I don't care."

I closed my eyes, nodding. "You're right. I– you're right."

She was patient, to my relief, and it took a moment for me to find my words.

"I'd spent most of the Games hiding," I began to tell her, comforted by the warmth of her hand in mine. "I avoided confrontation where I could, but one kid, he– he cornered me and had a knife. Managed to cut my lip... I disarmed him and ran with it. Used it to defend myself, injuring whoever got in my way, but never killing. I couldn't– I couldn't do that..."

...I was running, one of the others having found me in the tunnels and chasing me out into the open where they could no doubt kill me with ease. My lungs were screaming for air, burning with each step I took, but I kept pushing myself until I was in the stands. The other tribute followed me though, carrying a spear and swinging it my way.

I avoided each swing, knife in hand but myself unable to do anything with it, not without getting in close. And then they swung again, making me dodge, and slammed the blunt end of their spear into my back, pushing me over the edge of the stands and to the ground below with a loud crack. I would have a screamed at the unbearable pain from my arm, but I'd slammed my head onto the ground, leaving me dazed.

My vision was spinning and my arm was throbbing and I didn't know what was what, but then I heard someone's feet land behind me and I knew I had to play dead, my last chance at surviving. Through one open eye, I could see footsteps approaching, but also the glint of my knife which had dropped beside me during the fall. I stayed still, practically holding my breath as the other tribute leaned down to check if I was alive. And before they could try to turn me over, I grabbed the knife and stabbed the first thing I could touch.

Only when I heard the sounds of gurgling did I look to see what I'd done. My knife was lodged into their neck, their pleading eyes begging mine as I scrambled back out of fear, watching them die a slow and painful death without meaning to. I was certain I could never un-hear those noises, or un-see their death...

Tears wet my face when I finished telling Lucy Gray the story, and I was trembling slightly as the memories flashed in my head.

"I didn't want to," I told her, shaking my head guiltily. "I didn't. But it was the only way. The only way to be done. I– I'm not a murderer. I'm not. I'm–"

She pulled me in for a hug, rubbing soothing circles on my back. "It's okay. It's okay, Y/N."

I cried into her shoulder, but it didn't make me feel any better. I'd murdered someone, and now I'd live with the reminder forever.

"You did what you had to do," she tried to console me, but I knew it wasn't entirely true.

It wasn't over, not really. I'd see their faces everywhere, forever.

"I wish you didn't have to do that," she said after a moment, pulling away but holding my hand between hers. "And I haven't said it yet, but thank you for taking my place, even though I didn't want you to. You saved my life. I just wish it wasn't at the expense of your own."

She kissed my cheek before hugging me again, sighing contently.

"By the way, if you ever try to tell me how I feel, I'll kill you myself," she muttered into my shoulder. "I'm not losing you, ever."

I stayed quiet, wrapping my arm around her instead. I knew I'd do this all again if it meant she was safe. But she wouldn't understand.

By the time word spread about my 'triumph' in the Games and return to District Twelve, I'd already moved out of my dad's place. He barely uttered a word to me, neither did he try stopping me. I wasn't sure if it was because he knew what I was capable of, or if he'd just been waiting for me to leave, but it was easier than I'd imagined.

My only choices were being homeless, moving into the community home full of kids with no parents or staying with the Covey. Naturally, it was easy to choose the latter, especially when Lucy Gray insisted I stayed with them.

It was easy at first, easier than I expected, to make myself at home and try to continue my life as it once was before the Games. I went back to work as soon as possible, even with one arm broken, did as many shifts as I could before the summer ended and I'd be back at school with less time to make money and afford food. I accompanied the Covey to the Hob, helping them prepare for their sets and encouraging people to donate money for their performances. It was almost normal.

But at night, that was when I couldn't seem to escape the true reality of what I'd been through. I'd fall asleep, no problem, and then my nightmares would feature different versions of the Games, bloody kills of the other tributes, the knot of fear in my chest expanding until I woke up in cold sweats and with wet eyes.

I couldn't tell anybody, especially not the Covey or Lucy Gray. I couldn't be a burden to them, not after all they'd done for me, but it was getting unbearable. The faces, they wouldn't stop haunting me. And the scar on my lip that wasn't fading only seemed to serve as a permanent reminder, frightening me because maybe I would never escape it. Maybe I'd suffer forever, a consequence of winning.

It happened again, tonight, and I woke with a start, eyes shooting open and mistaking the shadow on the ceiling for a predator in the dark. It took me a moment to remember where I was, what was real. Lucy Gray's bedroom. I was in the bed they'd set up for me, opposite hers, and the curtains were drawn, casting a ghastly blue glow around the room.

Wiping my eyes, I moved my legs over the side of the bed and glanced over at Lucy Gray, who was sound asleep. I was careful not to wake her as I slipped into some shoes and left the room, practicing the same caution as I left the house completely and sat outside on the garden furniture. The fresh air did much better to wake me up, reminding me where I was, and I simply sat there under the dark sky, trying to collect myself.

It was always the same. Some nights were worse than others, like tonight, where I'd be forced to step outside for some fresh. Other nights I could just brush it off and force myself to sleep. Would it ever get better?

I wasn't sure how long passed, but I heard the back door of the house opening and turned around, ready to apologise to whoever I'd woken. To my surprise, it was Lucy Gray.

"I didn't mean to wake you up," I said quickly, straightening up. "I can go back in. I–"

"Stop," she said softly, before taking a seat on the chair next to me, eyes never leaving mine.

I swallowed thickly, unable to hold her stare.

"I've tried to give you space," she said, the fatigue laced in her voice. "Since you've been here. I've seen you leave in the middle of the night... I'm worried, Y/N. Talk to me. Please."

Embarrassed I'd been caught out, I tried to reassure her. "I'm fine. It's nothing."

She scoffed quietly. "Are we not close enough that you shouldn't lie to me?"

I glanced at her, sighing when I saw the worry looking back at me.

"It's the Games, isn't it?" she asked carefully. "You're dreamin' of them."

I didn't trust my voice, so I could only nod weakly. She tensed her jaw slightly before moving her chair closer to me and pulling me in for a side hug. Leaning her head on my shoulder, she squeezed comfortingly, and I melted under her touch.

"Wake me when it happens," she encouraged. "It's not nice bein' alone when you've just had a nightmare."

"I'm not doing that," I started, a million reasons on the tip of my tongue for why I wouldn't subject her to that, but she cut me off pleadingly.

"Please. It'll make me feel better, knowin' I can at least be with you. Knowin' you're not alone. That I can help."

I didn't reply, unsure I could agree when I knew I just couldn't do it.

"I'm gonna push the beds together if you don't," she added, lightheartedly but with a touch of concern still present.

Nonetheless, it brought a smile to my lips and I exhaled sharply through my nose, a sad attempt at a laugh. "Okay."

She squeezed my shoulder in response and then straightened up, offering me a tired smile. "Come on."

"What?"

"You're not goin' back to sleep, clearly, so let's go," she insisted, grabbing my hand and pulling me up.

"Go where?" I asked, though let her lead me out of the garden.

"The lake, duh."

I didn't fight it and let her tug me along, walking down to the lake. It was quiet out, especially between us, and the mindless task of walking through the woods with her hand in mine gave me something else to focus on other than my nightmares.

When we reached the lake, we took a seat at the edge of the dock again, just like last time.

"No midnight swims, please," I warned her playfully, and she laughed quietly.

"I promise," she muttered, before looking out at the water.

My eyes took in her profile for a moment, following the slope of her nose, the point of her cupid's bow, the curve of her lips... even in the dark, with only a minuscule of moonlight casting shadows across her face, she was stunning. I wondered if she knew the effect she could have on me just by being here.

"Thank you," I said, unable to keep my gratitude in for much longer. "For everything."

She rolled her eyes playfully, continuing to look ahead. "Oh, shut up."

I furrowed my brows. "Huh?"

She gave me a disapproving glance. "After all that's happened, you don't need to thank me."

"I do," I said simply, and she rolled her eyes again.

"Seriously, shut up before I make you."

Knowing I wouldn't win this one, I exhaled softly and looked away, eyes subconsciously tracing the shimmers of light in the still water.

"Why did you do it?" Lucy Gray suddenly asked, playfulness gone.

"What?"

She paused. I wasn't sure she'd continue, and then she said, "Volunteer." I opened my mouth to answer, but she cut me off, adding, "And don't say it's because nobody would miss you. You knew that I would have. So, why?"

I pressed my lips together firmly, suddenly feeling warm. It was such an easy question, with an even easier answer. But I couldn't bring myself to say it for the same reason I'd never told her. I was a coward. But didn't she deserve to know the truth? Didn't I deserve to finally come clean? To lift this weight from my shoulders?

My heart was thumping ever so loudly for the girl next to me. I'd faced life or death situations, surely I could do this.

"Y/N?" she prompted, glancing at me.

I licked my lips, gaze focused on the darkness ahead. "I'm in love with you."

The silence was deafening, unlike before when it was welcomed. Not even a gasp or a slight movement from beside me betrayed her reaction, her surprise. I was too paralysed with fear of rejection to look at her. Instead, I stayed put, certain I'd be stuck there in that moment forever, never hearing a response. But then finally:

"I thought that was it. I just had to hear you say it."

My jaw tensed as I digested her words, eyes still fixated on the water. She knew? This whole time, she knew?

"I love you too," she murmured, and in my peripheral, I could see her staring ahead also. "That's why I hated that you did it."

Unable to act cowardly any longer, I forced myself to look to her. She did the same, knocking the breath from me when her dark eyes met mine. It was horribly intimidating, even though she was doing nothing different. Except now she knew. She finally knew. And I knew that she knew. And that was different enough to terrify me.

"Never again," she muttered. "You have to promise me and actually keep it."

And just like that, I was reminded why I'd volunteered in the first place. Coward or not, it was only ever for her.

"I can't," I admitted.

She scrunched her face with hurt. "And why not?"

I grimaced. "I just told you why."

A frown appeared on her lips, jaw clenching in annoyance. Her eyes flickered between mine defiantly, and I knew I was upsetting her again.

"I'm sorry," I said, tilting my head.

"I hate you," she said lowly.

I shook my head, holding her intense gaze. "Not according to what you just said."

Her lips curled inwards, frustrated, and after one last glance, she leaned forward and kissed me hard. My eyes fluttered close as she caressed my cheek, holding me close. I slipped my uninjured arm around her waist, revelling in her warmth and the softness of her lips. It was the best kiss I'd ever had. The only kiss, yes, but one I'd never want to compete with.

When we pulled apart, her hand was still on my cheek, and mine still on her waist, and I worried that if I opened my eyes, something would go wrong. That this would all be a dream.

"You should've told me sooner," she murmured, lips ghosting mine.

I reluctantly opened my eyes, instantly submerged in hers. "Not everyone can speak their mind as confidently as you can, Lucy Gray."

She licked her lips, drawing my gaze to them yet again. "I can't always. Clearly."

I looked down, shaking my head slightly. "I couldn't."

Her thumb stroked my cheek tenderly. "Not even after? When you came home?"

It was hilarious, how easy she made it all sound. I raised an eyebrow at her, trying not to smile. "You don't know how you make me feel, do you?" Her expression softened, and I continued, "Imagine standing on the edge of a cliff. Then jumping off."

"Scared?" she asked, growing worried, but I shook my head.

"Free," I corrected, growing warm at my honesty, it coming way too easily for once. "And that in itself is scary, isn't it? But scary in a good way. I– I've never felt like that before."

She exhaled softly, a small smile tugging at her lips. "You're not so bad at speaking your mind, it seems."

I breathed out through my nose, mirroring her smile. Her thumb outlined my lips lightly, tracing my scar, and then resting on my cheek again. She was thoughtful, eyes staring at my face, but distant.

"That feeling you described," she started, voice smooth and comforting, "it goes both ways."

I wondered how it could. I'd never imagined myself giving her a similar comfort, nor her feeling so strongly about me as I did with her. But then she kissed me again, and I didn't need to think about it anymore.

#lucy gray baird #lucy gray x reader #lucy gray baird x reader #lucy gray baird imagine #rachel zegler #the hunger games imagine #the hunger games #the ballad of songbirds and snakes imagine #the ballad of songbirds and snakes

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chmpgneprblem · 5 months

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Lucy Gray and reader singing together, please?

INVISIBLE STRING ; LUCY GRAY BAIRD

pairing: lucy gray baird x covey!reader (not related) summary: lucy gray pitches a song to you, you don’t seem to realize what it’s about until you sing it with her on stage warnings: reader being oblivious (and jealous), mentioned that reader is fem a/n: i did change a lot of the lyrics but it's to fit the plot!! word count: 1.0k join taglist!!

Lucy Gray proposed a new song to you. “It’s kind of lovey-dovey… but I think we should play it tomorrow at the Hob.” She was nervous, only looking at you for a quick second before staring at her feet the rest of the time. What could she be so nervous about? “Well play it for me!” You beamed at her and shoved her shoulder. She grabbed her guitar from beside her and started to play for you.

The melodic notes that came out of the guitar awed you as she played. Her sweet voice blended well with background noises of the guitar, it had you mesmerized.

And isn’t it just so pretty to think? All along there was some invisible string, tying you to me.

You recognized the saying from something Maude Ivory had told you once. She had brought it up while they watched a couple dance as Lucy Gray sang. “It’s this belief I read about. It’s a string tying soulmates together, it means that the universe wants you to be together. Almost like it’s written in the stars.”

As Lucy Gray sang to you, you couldn’t help but wonder who she was singing about. “It’s probably about that peacekeeper friend of hers…” You got a stab in your ribs but from what? Jealousy? Maybe. You hadn’t thought of it before but as she was nearing the end of the song, the pain got worse.

She sang the last chorus, her voice still smooth as she sang the same lyrics; this time with a key change on the guitar. She sang oohs and ahhs while she continued to play the relaxing melody. She ended the song with a nervous smile on her face.

She began to ask you shyly, “So what do you-” You cut her off, “It’s amazing Lucy Gray, we should get the others together, so we can practice it.” You told with a smile, despite the feeling of jealousy deep within you. She blushed at your praise as she muttered a quiet, “Thanks,” You left her with a smile as you went to gather the rest of the Covey.

Something wrapped all of my past mistakes in barbed wire. Chains around my demons, wool to brave the seasons. One single thread of gold tied me to you.

You were jealous. What did he have that you didn’t? You loved Lucy Gray, you had loved her since you first met her in the hob years ago. You just didn’t know if she felt the same.

Just like every night, you and the Covey played at the Hob. But this night was different, they were playing a new song.

You and the rest of the Covey got onto the stage. Lucy Gray strutted up to the mic with an excited smile. She turned to you to give a nod, a way of telling you it was time to start. You passed the nod onto the rest of the Covey. Maude Ivory gave a thumbs up to you then looked over to Lucy Gray with a knowing smile. What were they planning?

Your thoughts were interrupted by the sound of Lucy Gray’s voice. “Hello everybody, It’s so great to see you!” She spoke to them with her usual charm.

As she spoke to the crowd, you scanned around. That peacekeeper boy wasn’t here. Guess he won’t get to hear her song.

“Tonight we’re gonna start with a new one, I call it ‘invisible string’” She told the crowd, grabbing a tambourine while Tam Amber started playing the banjo. You joined in a little after he did on the guitar, Barb Azure playing her fiddle not long after you.

Black was the color of your shirt when you were sixteen at the local bar you used to work at to make a little money.

The lyrics sounded familiar. You looked around at the rest of the Covey to see them with grinning faces. Was this song about you? Surely not, so you just pushed it to the side as you continued to play guitar along with her.

And isn’t it just so pretty to think all along there was some invisible string tying you to me.

Lucy Gray sang the chorus, turning to you with a smile as you harmonized together; you were doing a slightly higher pitch than her. You smiled back, as if nobody else was there but her.

Pure was the snow in the song in the bar when you had first met me.

She turned back to the crowd as she sang the second verse. It was about you. You get brought back to that day from the mention of it.

You had walked in to do your usual bartending shift, not expecting much entertainment but were pleasantly surprised to see a band playing. The main singer, Lucy Gray, was the most beautiful woman you had ever seen. She seemed to be smiling at someone in the crowd as she sang. She turned as she continued to sing and saw you standing there, in awe from her voice and beauty.

A string that pulled me out of all the wrong arms, right into that dive bar. Something wrapped all of my past mistakes in barbed wire.

You looked at her, and suddenly you were that same awestruck girl from back when you were just a bartender at the Hob. She looked back at you with loving eyes, you thought your knees were going to buckle, but you stood up straighter.

As the final chorus came up, Lucy Gray put down the tambourine to start snapping her fingers to the beat as she sang with you.

And isn’t it just so pretty to think? All along there was some invisible string, tying you to me.

You changed the key on your guitar as you two started to sing the same oohs and ahhs she had sung to you just the night before. Her voice was as smooth as honey while your higher and slightly gravelly voice harmonized with hers. Your opposite tones mixed perfectly together.

Your spirits matched with your voices, made for one another. You left the Hob that night with Lucy Gray on your arm knowing that you two really were written in the stars.

#lucy gray baird x fem!reader #lucy gray baird x reader #lucy gray x reader #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #the hunger games #rachel zegler x reader #rachel zegler #lucy gray baird #thg #the hunger games fanfic #asks

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headfullofpresley · 8 months

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Welcome back to tumblr, Tam! I wanted to see if you’re taking requests and if you are…could we see 50s!El giving the reader a facial and maybe he accidentally cums in her eye.

Idk that would be some funny shit…😂

hi nonnie, thank you so much! decided to make this into a blurb even though i never write blurbs (simply bc i always get carried away lol), but i love this idea! i'm a sucker for the funny, mundane shit. hope you like it! 💗

𝐄𝐲𝐞𝐬 𝐂𝐥𝐨𝐬𝐞𝐝

Word count: 858

Warning(s): strong language, handjob, facial, elvis cummin' in your eye.

“Faster, faster, oh fuck- faster, baby..” Elvis grunted as he stood in front of you, feet planted firmly on the floor of his bedroom, head thrown back as his lips were parted. His chest was heaving up and down heavily, the muscles in his lower abdomen tightening letting you know he was close to falling apart. Usually, you knew that at this point, you’d have to put his cock in your mouth to let him paint the back of your tongue white.

You were a good girlfriend like that.

And you were an even better girlfriend for agreeing to his idea of having him cum on your face. After all, he just came back from his two year long stint in Germany and you had missed being intimate with him so much that you didn’t even protest to this naughty little fantasy of his.

You were completely focused on the task as your hand was moving faster and faster, ignoring the slight ache in your wrist. What was about to come made you determined and while this had been Elvis’ idea, you were curious about it too. He always brought out the naughty and wild side in you and every time you had sex with your boyfriend, you were completely swept up into the moment.

“Shit… Little, y-yes,” he grunted as he looked down at you, quickly replacing your hand with his own, continuing your work. You took it as a sign to get ready and sat there all pretty on your knees, hands placed on your thighs. He grunted as he panted heavily, mumbling something about you having to close your eyes but you were too eager and lost in the moment to register his words. You barely had time to register them to be quite frank, because in a matter of seconds, warm spurts of cum landed on your face and your eyelashes fluttered in a reflex.

You wanted to see the whole thing happening, but that probably wasn’t the best idea.

As some of it managed to creep into your left eye, you didn’t even have time to cuss at your boyfriend for having some of his cum land in your hair, because you felt as if your eye was on fire. Letting out a panicked shriek, you squeezed your eye shut and covered it with your hand. Elvis didn’t notice it at first, until he saw you sitting back on the floor and fanning your hand in front of your closed eye, too scared to open it.

Elvis, unfortunately, didn’t have the time to admire his creation on your face as he saw the state you were in. Kneeling down next to you, he gently grabbed your chin and looked at your face. “Baby, are you okay?”

You glared at him with one eye, grasping the tissues he held out to you he got from the box on the bedside table, shoving him away. “You came into my eye, you idiot!”

Elvis sat on his knees opposite you, putting his hands on your knees as he watched you rub your eye with the tissues for a second. He should be worried, and he really was worried, but he couldn’t help but to see the humor in it. You looked at him as he let out a roaring laugh, managing to slowly open your assaulted eye, which was red and teary.

“I t-told you.. told you to close your eyes!” Elvis stuttered as he laughed hysterically, and laughing even harder as you gave him another shove and he fell back on the floor. You wanted to be angry at him and give him a hard time, but it didn’t take you long to be laughing just as hard as he was.

“I’m never doing that again!” You told him after the two of you had calmed down a little and your eyes didn’t sting as much anymore after Elvis had inspected it and kept a damp washing cloth against it, while also cleaning the rest of your face.

“Don’t say that, baby,” He grinned as he smothered your face with kisses, ignoring how he could still taste himself on your skin a little. “’S not like you’ve gone blind, now did’ya?”

“Well, sure felt like it!”

He laughed his contagious belly-laugh again and wrapped his arms around you, getting off the floor and rolling in between the sheets on the bed with you. Before you knew it, he was already on top of you and in between your legs again, grinning down at you. “I’ll make it up to ya real good, Little,”

“You better,” You smiled at him as you trap him in your embrace by wrapping your arms around his neck and your legs around his waist, keeping him close against you as he leaned down and kissed you.

For the rest of the night, he made it up to you.

Again, and again, and again.

And every time, he made sure to be mindful of your left eye, kissing your eyelid lovingly as he reminded you how much he missed you when he was away in Germany for those long two years.

taglist: @powerofelvis @breadsquash @generoustreemystic @ab4eva @marriedtopresley @steph-speaks @notstefaniepresley @ellie-24 @dollksj @webbedwebs @re3kin @wivette @eliseinmemphis @18lkpeters @rosepresley @ccab @whatstruthgottodowithit @dkayfixates @livelaughelvis @lettersfromvenus @elvisalltheway101 @that-hotdog @robinismywife @jaqueline19997

#tam.answers #requests #elvis x reader #elvis presley x reader #elvis smut #elvis presley smut #elvis blurb #elvis presley blurb #elvis x y/n #elvis presley x y/n #elvis #elvis presley #tamwrites

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yesterdays-xkcd · 2 months

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By my count, only 48 of the 158 minutes in Live Free or Die Hard have action. That's pathetic, guys. Crank is better, but needs a bigger budget and more Summer Glau.

Action Movies [Explained]

Transcript Under the Cut

[Cueball and Megan are talking together as they walk away from a cinema.] Cueball: Another summer gone without a mindless big-budget action movie. Megan: Huh? Die Hard was nothing but action! Cueball: No, it was too talky.

Megan: What? Too talky? Cueball: I tallied it minute-by-minute. It's at least 60% people walking and talking. All those movies are.

Cueball: Just once, I want a real action movie. 30 seconds of exposition followed by a perfect 90-minute action scene. One with a huge budget, a good choreographer, and a great director.

Megan: And they should center it around some character we already know, someone we never get tired of watching. Cueball: I think we've got something here...

[A movie poster is shown, labelled "Coming this Summer: River Tam Beats Up Everyone". In it there's a line of doorways with many people lying on the ground or draped over the architecture, leading up to River Tam doing a flying kick into someone's face and someone in front coming out of the door to see what's going on.]

#xkcd #xkcd 311 #action movies #2000s #2007

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mitsuki91 · 2 months

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Okay, just so you all know, daddy!Coryo live now in my mind permanently, and of course the only reasonable thing to do is set him free by writing something...

I will share one little wip I wrote in my tiny lunch break:

Coriolanus dropped another piece of meat with the classic clang and watched the hybrid devour it. 1.57 seconds. A new record.

"Tell me," replied the professor, his tone neutral to mask his irritation, "What should I do?"

He heard Dr Gaul's clang.

"I have decided that your little songbird will sing at the opening ceremony of the next Games. You remember, don't you? Lucy Gray Baird."

Coriolanus' heart lost a beat.

Determined not to show any emotion, he slammed his tongs back into the funnel. Clang.

She won't find her, he was thinking, frantic, trying not to panic.

She won't find her, and so…

"The girl is already on her way, with all her family," something detached itself inside him, like a piece of floating soul as he struggled to carry on his mechanical gestures. Another piece of flesh. Another clang. The stopwatch. 2.17 seconds. "I thought, as her former Mentor, you were the right person to host the Coveys... And convince your little Lucy Gray to play and sing for us in early July."

She found her.

His heart was beating furiously in his chest. Clang. 2.54 seconds.

She found her.

When did she return?

"... With a smile on her face, possibly. Accompanied by her family so that the world can see how much a Victor is able to enjoy life, after being pardoned from Panem”

She's bringing her to me.

Lucy Gray... To his house? With the Coveys? Little Maude Ivory... CC... Tam Amber? Barb Azure?

Oh god.

If she was back... What had she told the others?!

Would they hate him, all of them?

And he was supposed to convince her to sing for Panem? With a smile on her face?

Another clang. His mind raced in circles, and Coriolanus had to force himself to maintain a neutral expression, to carry out his task, to feign indifference...

Could this have been a second chance?

"Ah, there's one small detail," Dr Gaul continued, indifferent to his inner screams, "I don't think it will be a problem for you, however it's better that the public doesn't know... You see, as a matter of reputation."

"What?" asked Coriolanus, his tone always neutral.

Clang. That ugly rat face again. 1.97 seconds.

"Your songbird had a baby," replied Dr Gaul, tone as always sing-songy. Coriolanus stopped with the tongs in midair, rigid. Had he understood correctly?! “It's not good for Capitol City to be aware of the... Poor composure of the people of the Districts. Beasts that mate without even waiting until they come of age…”

Coriolanus felt himself rocking and had to appeal to every last ounce of self-control to remain upright and still. Not to be seen. Not to collapse.

Lucy Gray, with a child?

Lucy Gray... Lucy Gray with...?

"... Are you all right, Mr Snow?"

Coriolanus widened his smile and beat the tongs into the funnel with a loud clang. He took the time. 2.80 seconds.

"Well, I'll be getting baby items," he replied, posed and courteous and light as ever.

Inside, he was filled with fury.

Who dared?!

Let me know if you are curious 😂😂

#coriolanus snow #fan fiction #daddy coryo #snowbaird #my fics #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #tbosas

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hannahlikeso741 · 5 months

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What perfumes do the HL boys wear, by a complete perfume lover who is not an expert.

Hello there. I have been inactive for too long. Ever since my label as a scent witch by @pandanscafanfiction and being bullied by @tennoujinerin to post this, here it is. What perfumes I think the HL boys would wear:

I know I have done this before but after some revision and seeing how each character has been developed, lo and behold my new choices.

Sebastian Sallow:

Ah, the one who stole our hearts at first when we played the game. I chose Cedarwood as his main scent note for it's association with healing and death. Sebastian is an all rounder, not the type to have multiple bottles, one scent will do the job. Burberry's Hero, YSL's La Nuit De La Homme and Margiela Replica's Whispers in the Library (I chose this on purpose) have Cedarwood as it's note

Ominis Gaunt:

Ominis is upper class but it doesn't strike me as someone who wants to shout his status. It is a kind of scent that is subtle but you know it comes from the upper class. For that I chose Leather fragrances as it usually wears slowly on the skin, but on the right person it comes across as a quiet strong person. Gucci's Guilty Absolute, Dior's Fahrenheit and Margiela Replica's Jazz club are a great reflection of this.

Garreth Weasley:

As a potioneer who relies on his nose a lot, Garreth wouldn't see the point of wearing perfume. At best he would just need something that smells clean and fresh, but I added some citrusy notes for his fun loving nature. For that Chanel's Allure Homme Sport and Dior Homme Cologne would do the trick. To get is attention, choose a scent that sits close to the skin in an almost intimate level that would turn his head, such as Margiela Replica's Lazy Sunday Morning.

Leander Prewett:

For Leander I actually went for "Annoying" fragrances at first but seeing how he has been developed into the fandom, I rearranged for scents that are fresh with a twist. I wanted something that comes across as a people pleaser but there is the note that you can't put your nose to it (It's Rosemary) that makes you take a second sniff. For that, Armani's Aqua Di Gio Porfumo, Bvlgari's Aqva pour Homme and Issey Miyake's Fusion d'Issey are my picks.

Amit Thakkar:

I really wanted to pay homage to India for Amit, as India is the land where scents are used quite frequently in daily life. I chose a sandalwood perfume (Diptyque's Tam Dao) for it's usage in the worship of the Hindu Gods and Goddess, Cardamom (D&G The One) for it's usage in food and Saffron ( Penhaligon's Babylon) for the colour worn by Hindu Priests ( it symbolic of Sunsets/Sunrise and healing, apparently).

Andrew Larson:

I am amazed at the headcanons for Andrew but I digress he doesn't smell like herbs. Instead I chose Juniper Berries! Is this an odd choice? Of course, but considering it's freshness yet spicy notes with medicinal properties (not to mention it being found in most parts of the globe) it is a timeless scent. I tried my best to find scents that are light, something not too strong as it will need to sit close to the skin. Take a peek with Blvgari's Glacial Essence, Gucci's Guilty Cologne Pour Homme and Penhaligon's Juniper Sling.

#hogwarts legacy #hogwarts legacy characters #ominis gaunt #sebastian sallow #amit thakkar #garreth weasley #leander prewett #hogwarts legacy headcanons #andrew larson

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acourtofthought · 3 months

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Hello! Not sure if you talked about this already but, do you think Lucien could've done more to help Feyre? Sometimes I see Lucien/Elucien fans say this, but they never outline what specifically he could've done. He had to balance dealing with Feyre's issues, Tamlin's, making sure Spring was stabilized, and his own traumas too. Rhys and Feyre said he could've done more but....what could he have done that didn't set off a mentally unstable High Lord? He was getting abused himself trying to help.

I think it's normal for readers to primarily focus on the heroines story and her pov when reading a book and as a result, it makes it too easy to drown out the things that do not relate to Feyre and her suffering.

When you really break it all down to look at the big picture though, by the time ACOMAF began, Feyre had been in Lucien's life for a few months. MONTHS.

In comparison, Lucien had been Tamlin's "right hand" for centuries. Helping out the people of Spring for centuries. Had been dealing with Amarantha's curse for over 49 years.

Feyre came into Lucien's life after murdering his friend. It didn't take long before Lucien moved past that and he was willing to risk his own life for her on a few occasions. First when he glamored her from Rhys, second when he refused to give up Feyre's name, and third when he helped her in her first trial which resulted in him being whipped, prevented from healing, then being used as Amarantha's toy to torment in Feyre's second trial.

But when they returned to Spring, it wasn't just about Lucien sacrificing himself for Feyre anymore, he had more to think about than just himself and just Feyre.

"If we're going to stand a chance of rebuilding. What he says goes. I am the first one the others look to - I set the example. Don't ask me to risk the stability of this court by pushing back. Not right now"

"No. Amarantha had ... camps for them. The nobles and favored faeries were allowed to dwell UTM. But if the people of a court weren't working to bring in goods and food, they were locked in camps in a network of tunnels beneath the Mountain. Thousands of them, crammed into chambers and tunnels with no light, no air. For fifty years.- " "Some of them went mad, started preying on the others when Amarantha forgot to order her guards to feed them. Soe formed bands that prowled the camps and did - " "They did horrible things. Right now, they're trying to remember what it is to be normal - how to live"

Truly, were Feyre's needs more important than the needs of an entire court? The needs of a people who experienced 50 years of torture compared to her 3 months?

What she did for them was amazing but it doesn't take away their trauma either.

And while Lucien was not only balancing what the entire Spring Court needed and also trying to help Feyre with what she needed, he faced push back from a HIGH LORD everytime he did so:

"She meant no harm, Tam."

"I know she meant no harm," he snapped.

Lucien held his gaze. "Worse things have happened, worse things can happen. Just relax."

Tamlin's emerald eyes were feral as he snarled at Lucien, "Did I ask for your opinion?"

To this, Feyre thinks "those words, the look he gave Lucien and the way Lucien lowered his head - my temper was a burning river in my veins. Look up, I silently beseeched him. Push back. He's wrong, and we're right. Do not back down."

But Feyre says nothing. She just sits there, not offering support to Lucien and expecting him to do something. When it's obvious he's clearly on the line of risking Tamlin's abuse.

Feyre is beseeching Lucien to further open himself up to possible abuse.

Then again later: Lucien had gone on, his tone pleading, Tamlin. Tam. Just let her train, let her master this - if the other High Lords do come for her, let her stand a chance...

I heard the first word out of his mouth, barely more than a growl. No. We give them no reason to suspect she might have any abilities, which training will surely do. Don't give me that look Lucien. Then a vicious snarl, and a shudder of magic rocked the house. Tamlin's voice had been low, deadly. "Do not push me on this."

Feyre then thinks, I didn't want to know what was happening in that room, what he'd done to Lucien, what Lucien had even looked like to cause that pulse of power.

So again, Feyre ignores Luciens' abuse from Tamlin. Feyre with the power of all 7 High Lords and Lucien having no clue he's the Heir to Day and no clue that he might become a High Lord himself as he's not come into his powers, yet their argument is why didn't Lucien do more for Feyre?

Since when is a victim of domestic violence responsible for standing up to their abuser because someone else is also being abused (unless you have a parent / child siutation)?

And yes, Lucien did want to take Feyre back to Spring after Rhys took her but here's where it gets tricky.

A victim hears how their abuser is sorry, they've learned their lesson, they'll be better, and sometimes the victim falls for it.

So Lucien has this centuries old friend who was his friend for many years and who had once saved his life and he only witnessed his sprial after everything that happened with Amarantha. Why wouldn't Lucien believe that Tamlin was capable of change?

Compared to Rhys who perpetuated lies for centuries that he was evil and did play mind games and did torture and Feyre fed into that when Lucien found her because she wanted Velaris to remain protected.

So out of those two scenarios, a friend who seems genuinely remorseful for his recent behaviors versus a High Lord who continues letting everything think he's evil and has the power to brainwash others, and Lucien was wrong for thinking she would be safer in Spring?

It's not like he could steal her away to another Court, what other court would harbor them if they believed it was a slight against another High Lord? Aren't we specifically told that is a cause for war?

Some readers love to simplify things so they can place blame on a character they don't like but they're forgetting SJM writes complexity in her characters relationships, how morally gray even her favorites can be which leaves other characters between a rock and a hard place.

So with that all said, I don't think Lucien could have done more for Feyre because he was being hit from every side. "What is best for the people of Spring? They too have suffered" "Feyre is being brainwashed by Rhys." "Every time I try to stand up for what I believe I end up abused" "I don't like how he's acting but Tamlin was my friend long before this and I have faith he can go back to who he once was."

#lucien vanserra #pro lucien vanserra

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achaotichuman · 3 months

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Worthless Man

"We can't." He shook his head.

Still, I reached out, fingers brushing the lapel of his jacket. Just the slightest of touches. He hissed, low and under his breath, but he stood closer to me. Drawn like metal to magnet.

Green eyes on honey eyes. Red hair whipping in the air as the breeze caught the strands. My own blond curls flicking around my face.

Nothing I can do.

He would fall away from my hands.

And there was nothing I could do.

"But please-" I would get on my knees and fucking beg him if I had to.

"No." He said, something sad in his eyes. Remembering times before. Times where I sunk into his arms, consumed by the fire in his hands, and the fire pooling in my core. Times where we laughed and danced and drank and kissed under star lit skies.

"I can't." He told me, "And you can't either."

Truth was in his words, but I wanted them to be lies.

I wanted too much from him. I wanted things I didn't need. I wanted love and warmth that I didn't deserve. From a person who I never deserved.

"We can try." Tell me I'm something worth fighting for still.

I was met with an iron gaze and stone-cold will, "I can't, I won't. Neither of deserve that."

"Lucien-" My voice was strained. He winced; Lucien wasn't a cruel man. He didn't want to inflict pain. He was anyway. He didn't mean it. It hurt anyway.

The night was dark and cruel. And the wind was ice cold. We stood on the border of the Spring and everything in my body begged to grab onto his jacket and lie. Spin some false truth that this could and would work when we both knew it wouldn't.

"I'm a mated male, Tam. I won't do this anymore." His voice was a deep murmur in the night.

Mated male. I nearly scoffed. He said it as if I hadn't lost him long before Elain was born.

My fingers grasped the fabric of his jacket. Hands wishing to roam over his chest. Wishing to pull him closer and never leave. I didn't want to be cold.

"The fight isn't worth it." Lucien murmured. Gentle and calm as always. Making me see reason, see past my own feelings and remember why this was better.

"But I love you." I whispered.

"That isn't enough, Tamlin." He told me as he pulled away. In a second the last of my warmth slid away from me. Even though he stood only a few feet away I felt hollow. Like my blood had been drained, my organs taken. Left empty and worthless.

Utterly fucking worthless.

He started to walk away. Walking away from Spring. Walking away from me.

"Am I that hard to love?" I asked.

He stopped.

He didn't turn around as he said over his shoulder, "Goodbye, Tamlin."

And he was gone. Whisked away into the Night. Gone from me, and gone forever.

He would always be there. Not even a few short winnowing trips away. Yet he wouldn't be there, he wouldn't be mine.

It was for the better.

I wasn't enough, and he wasn't enough to help me.

I stared at my hands like they were cursed. I fell to my knees and my body felt like it didn't belong to me. Useless as my soul, worthless to me and anyone else.

Claws, and teeth, and fur, and terror lurking just under my skin. Something other, something strange and incomprehensible. Is a creature that can change into anything, anything at all? Not Fae. Not human. Not mortal. Not immortal.

Difficult to understand, and difficult to love.

Rainwater from the ground seeped into my trousers, staining my knees. The cold went into my skin, into my bones. Pressing in at all sides.

Stuck in a body that didn't belong to me. That could be anything, yet nothing fit properly, like a shirt your mother told you, you would grow into but never did.

I hated my skin. I hated my hair. I hated my eyes. I hated my hands.

Stuck in this body.

Stuck in this life.

I still smelled him on the breeze. I still felt the fabric of his jacket under my fingertips. I wanted to cut them off. Carve him from my body. Open my skull and remove him from my brain. Forget him like he was nothing more than a pleasant dream.

Gone.

I wanted more, but he was lost from me.

When I saw him next.

Laughing and smiling. Hands on hers. Eyes fixated on hers. Happiness devoted to her.

I watched. I watched and nothing resounded in my body. Like it had been truly stripped of anything.

Seeing her lips graze his was like my skin being peeled from the bones.

Everything that I wanted. She was everything I wanted to be.

I looked away.

Hollow. Empty. Worthless.

Staring at the moon from the rooftop. I wondered how it felt, being nothing more than a reflection of the sun's light. I wondered how it felt being nothing more than a rock in the sky, with nothing to it unless the sun shone on it.

I woke up and spoke to no one. I ate alone, and I slept alone. I worked alone. I rebuilt alone.

When others came back it was with blank faces. None happy to see me but wanting back their lands. I didn't return any emotion of my own.

When a lady of the Court was chosen for me, I didn't fight it. I accepted the proposal from her father with little more than a few words of agreement and a nod here and there.

She existed beside me, and I existed beside her.

Her face was blank, her voice was devoid of emotion. But I knew she was not all miserable. When I sometimes deigned to look down from the balconies, I saw her laughing and talking with her friends and I knew she was fine with her life.

She bore me a son out of duty and nothing more. I had an Heir now. Her job fulfilled I never saw her any longer. It suited me fine.

As he grew, I smiled for him, I answered his questions and entertained his silly games with enthusiasm.

He was a man now. Tall and strong and powerful. With no siblings to have ever rivalled with and a Court in relative peace he didn't grow in bitterness.

He had a smile, he was not empty, nor hollow.

When I laid on a mossy bed what may have been centuries or millennia later. I thought back on my life.

I was born. I fought my wars. I married a Lady. I had an Heir.

Duty fulfilled.

I hadn't been loved. But I hadn't been unloved either.

My skin felt empty.

My mind was blank.

Another domino to fall and pave the way for the next ruler to rise.

Stupidly I wished I would see his face again as I stared at the sky for the last time. I wondered if he would feel the power shift to the next even all the way from Day.

When I closed my eyes, and he never came I realised I was stupid in thinking he might.

Claws under skin, strange and difficult to understand. I wish I could have fixed my body. Torn it apart and remade it. Turned it into something understandable. Made it something easy to love.

Worth nothing, just another building block in the tower of High lords to come and go.

As the world slipped away, I wondered.

Was I that hard to love?

#acotar #tamlin #pro tamlin #lucien vanserra #pro lucien vanserra #acotar headcanons #acotar au #tamcien #elucien #kind of

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butterflydm · 8 months

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wot rewatch (book spoilers edition): 2x3

And here are my additional thoughts that contain spoilers through all the teasers and the books through book 13: A Memory of Light.

I was watching show-only reviews to try to figure out if it's safe to call Ishy 'Ishamael' yet but reaction seems mixed on whether or not Moiraine's words clued people in on the situation, so I'm going to stay ambiguous about him in my book spoiler-free posts for now.

I loved the changes that the show made to all Nynaeve's tests. They all make sense in context of the show and Nynaeve's character, they all tell us something about her, and there's also some great connective threads between them. We've known for a while (or guessed) that her first test would take place when she was a kid because her mom appeared in the casting lists... quite a few months ago. Ages ago. But I definitely prefer this one to the book version. It was so heartrending and touching.

2. The crimsonthorn strand throughout the tests is very interesting to me. I talked about this in the other post, but on a more spoilerly note, I like that the show is not defaulting to "all the Wondergirls feel a draw towards Green because They Like Men" and that Nynaeve is actually getting tugged between Yellow and Red in these last two episodes, as Liandrin tries to influence her. It makes me wonder if maybe they'll have Elayne incline towards maybe Brown ("I like to tinker with things") instead of Green. Though Nynaeve did put Egwene in the Green Ajah in her personal AU (which did such a good job in only using elements that Nynaeve was aware of when she went into the arches! No Elayne in Nynaeve's AU; and no Rand because she believes him to be dead).

4. Side note: thrilled that Nynaeve does not have to be naked for the test. The amount of times that women have to strip down for rituals in the books gets pretty ridiculous (especially when men doing the same kind of ritual -- ex. going to Rhuidean -- does not require them to strip). Stripping down to her shift makes the point well enough.

5. A thought I had about the people attacking the Two Rivers -- could this have been happening during the Andoran Succession Crisis that led to Morgase being Queen? And so the Queen's Guard, instead of keeping the roads clear of bandits, were busy with the civil war among the nobility, which let bandits get even as far as the Mountains of Mist. That could actually serve as a really good reason for the Two Rivers to basically nope out of being part of Andor -- "you were so busy squabbling amongst yourself that you let bandits rove the lands and kill innocent people". I'm not certain if the timeline matches up, but I will put it out there as a theory.

6. Her second test is based on the same worries that she had in the books -- that she's abandoned the Two Rivers and she won't be there when they need her and someone who isn't a good Wisdom will have taken over for her -- but shifted the details to hit harder in the show version, and to use characters that the show viewers are already familiar with. It really worked for me. I also liked them essentially using Perrin's lies about Rand to Tam in the books for Nynaeve here instead, where it makes a lot more sense -- she doesn't want to steal the only comfort that she can give a dying man by telling him that his son is dead.

7. Liandrin genuinely got herself invested in Nynaeve! I liked seeing that. I really like that the show is giving more emotional depth to our Darkfriends. Both Sheriam and Liandrin come across as very genuinely upset that Nynaeve hasn't returned through the arches. Because they both think of themselves as the good guys! Liandrin's motives in the show seems to be along the lines of "You need to have power so that others can't have power over you" while Sheriam's in the books were about being Black Ajah essentially to get ahead in the Tower but never expecting that she would actually need to do anything TOO terribly bad in exchange. Neither of them wanted Nynaeve to die or get hurt (they were both probably hoping to turn her to the Black Ajah). It's also really funny that it's entirely possible that they do not know that the other one is also Black Ajah.

8. Theory: being able to sense latent channelers may be a Talent rather than something either everyone or no one can do. Because it's one specific damane who comes out to point out the individual women to get dragged off to be damane, rather than it being the two women who were used to attack the village.

They are hitting the dehumanization angle hard. Egwene's 'training' is going to be so hard to watch.

9. Ishamael doesn't seem like he was expecting to find Perrin here, so I don't think Ingtar has been in regular contact with him. I really do wonder where exactly the Darkfriend social happened, timeline-wise, to the rest of the season thus far.

10. Ah, goodbye, Uno. I'll miss you, but you went out like a boss. Given the changes that were made to the plot, this does make a ton of sense -- Uno is not a man who backs down easily and he's also not a plot-relevant character really... ever, at any point. He's a fun character for flavor but someone who can be sacrificed to illustrate a narrative point without needing to change any of the story in the future.

11. Changing Logain to being able to see men who can channel as opposed to ta'veren makes a lot of sense on a practical level -- Mat was sitting right next to Rand, so if he saw ta'veren, then he would have seen both of them glowing; making it about Rand being a channeling focuses Logain's attention and memory in on Rand specifically.

12. Rand being kept out of the knowledge loop here kinda cracks me up because "Rand is on an information diet" is something that kept coming up in the books and it frustrated me so much because, in the books, it was consistently a result of his allies just never being willing to tell him a fucking thing ever unless he bullied them into it or spied on them. It makes a lot more sense here that he doesn't know what's going on with anyone else's plotlines! Taking something frustrating from the books and making it make sense is a really good habit that the show has been doing.

13. Lanfear continues to be the funniest girl in the world. She is just on cloud nine so far in s2, cruising along living her best life. Also, we see that her inn cheekily has her personal symbols as their sign.

14. Given how much Rand is experiencing the class divide in Cairhien and how much he's seen the poor get mistreated and looked down on by the rich and titled, I almost wonder if he isn't going to get a bit of Mat's arc from the books when he finds out that Elayne is a noble and needs to realize that she's not like the Cairhienin nobles.

15. Mat escaping from one abusive situation only to land right into another one definitely reminds me of the Tylin->Tuon pipeline in the books, of course. The main difference being is that we're dealing with mother figures in the show and not 'romances' (please take that word with a very large grain of salt). Possibly the biggest way that they can set Mat x Tuon up for success is actually showing us her relationship with her mother and how toxic and cruel the environment that she grew up in is. I feel like not killing off the old Empress at all and instead having Tuon take over a faction of the people and split off them off from the Empire would give us a sense that she really IS Not Like The Other Seanchan, instead of just wanting people to believe Mat when he says it despite there being no evidence in Tuon's actual behavior (I'm trying to remember who originally suggested that idea, but it was a while ago, so I have forgotten; I'm sorry!).

16. Liandrin grinding in to Mat how worthless and what an awful friend he is will, presumably, be some pretty good setup for him to show himself to be both loyal and vital in the final episode, though there will probably be more pain for him in the upcoming episodes (maybe involving what happens with Min's viewing about him stabbing Rand).

17. Lanfear is buzzing on such a high of getting show off of her Personal Dragon to a fancy group of lords and ladies at the start of this party.

18. Rand's conversation with Moiraine's sister is particularly fascinating! There's a queen of Cairhien but I suspect that it's not a Damodred (maybe I'll be wrong and Anvaere is the queen! We'll see!). That Anvaere reaches out to the mysterious ~outlander lord~ and shares so much with him is very intriguing, especially if we end up seeing her again later in the season (once Moiraine arrives in Cairhien?).

18. Here is where the cracks in Lanfear's illusion of perfect happiness with her New Lews Therin are beginning to show: he's keeping secrets from her, he's doubting her, and then he just leaves her behind. She is probably getting some very unhappy flashbacks right about now.

19. I wonder if Rand's bad experience with Logain here will inform his choices in the future. In the books, there isn't really a good reason for him to give Taim free rein over the school, but if it's more of a "Taim vs Logain" situation and he already doesn't trust Logain (and Taim appears less affected by the madness), then him trusting Taim might make more sense.

20. Mat being released from a prison cell and not knowing where to go and then (temporarily in this case) returning to his prison gives me echoes of "Mat inexplicably appears by magic in Ebou fucking Dar, a place that treated him like shit for months" from A Memory of Light, lol.

21. Perrin feeling wary about getting too wolfy because of his encounter with Ishamael feels like a much better reason that we got in the books... though I wonder if we'll follow it up by having him meet... shit, the guy who lost himself to the wolf; do not remember his name. But I'm thrilled to have him hanging out with Elyas and the wolves (Hopper?) for now.

22. Liandrin calling Mat Cauthon, agent of chaos, "nothing if not predictable" feels like it needs to bite her in the ass at some point.

23. Yeah, on rewatch, the sex dream is definitely Lanfear feeling like she can finally show her possessiveness and anger in Rand's dream. She is MAD at him for keeping secrets and leaving without her, but she can't show it when he's awake because it doesn't fit her carefully crafted persona. She does NOT like her men with an air of mystery -- she wants to know every tiny thing that he's thinking and feeling. I wonder if Rand actually did light the roof on fire or if Lanfear helped it along -- she's definitely taking advantage of his vulnerability in the aftermath of the fire. "If you ever leave me like that again, I will kill you." Yeah, that's absolutely Lanfear.

And, you know, her inn burning down does mean that she doesn't have to worry about dealing with it anymore. Now that she's had a taste of Rand in fancy coats, I think she probably wants to try to figure out a way to make it happen again.

24. Nynaeve's dream does have a couple of painful easter eggs in it -- Mat gets a wound over his eye; Perrin gets killed by an axe.

Nynaeve does forcibly bring back the arches in the books too, just without so much happening in the illusionary life. But I liked this a lot because of how much it gave us from the other characters who believed that Nynaeve was dead.

25. So, my theories about what we might get in episode four. Wow.

Rand's trajectory... I don't think he's done with Logain. But I feel like ep4 is going to be a big one for him, based on the title (Daughter of the Night). Rand may find out the truth about Selene in this episode, which would be a. be a pretty big betrayal but also b. might make him realize that it's not likely that the Dark One is actually dead.

Moiraine is presumably on her way to Cairhien right now, but it doesn't seem like she thinks Rand himself is there, but more that she's investigating the poem situation, so they may run across each other by accident.

Everyone is going to get to react to Nynaeve powering her way out of the arches (like a boss). I am very curious if Lan is going to spend an episode in the Tower before going after Moiraine... but if Actual Lan goes to the Tower... hard to imagine he wouldn't tell Nynaeve, at least, that Rand is still alive. He knows how deeply Nynaeve cares about the Two Rivers kids.

Unless Liandrin tricks Nynaeve, Elayne, and Egwene into leaving the Tower before Lan arrives there?

Where are Mat and Min going! Mat can't be going after Egwene & co to save them because... nothing to save them from at the moment. Where would Liandrin want him to be led? Falme? I mean, maybe, but he can't channel, so it's not a secure prison for Mat like it would be for the girls.

Perrin's storyline is going to teach us more about the Seanchan and wolfbrothering, I imagine. Maybe some scouting. He can truthfully tell any Seanchan soldiers (if he runs across any) that he's taken the oaths.

Will we follow right on from episode 3 or is there going to be a timeskip to give the characters some time to travel to new locations?

#butterfly watches wot #wot #wheel of time #wot on prime #wot show spoilers #wot prime spoilers #wot s2 spoilers #wheel of time s2 spoilers #wot 2x3 spoilers #wot book spoilers #a memory of light

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