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ascendingaeons · 1 month

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The Crux of My Journey

“Mind the lessons of the past, but burden yourself not with the cares of ghosts. They cannot trouble you if you do not embrace them.”

Adept Susan Wylie - “Corridors of Light and Shadow,” Ruby Tablet of Set

“Life is an unfoldment, and the further we travel the more truth we can comprehend. To understand the things that are at our door is the best preparation for understanding those that lie beyond.”

Hypatia of Alexandria

I was seventeen when I began to practice shamanic trance. My shamanic journey began with a dream. In this dream, I was exploring a subterranean necropolis until I came across a door that was not a door. All at once, I found myself in a library that was mine but not mine. It was a sacred space that I was to return to many years later in meditation during my Reiki I° class. But, for the time being, it was an awakening. Before long I discovered the power of movement, rhythm, and vibration in altering states of consciousness. Perhaps it is better to say I remembered.

In my first experience with shamanic trance, I found myself traversing the planes of the classical elements. I trekked across the savannas and mountains of the Plane of Earth. In the twilight of the Plane of Water, I danced with its denizens and came to discern the stagecraft of my Shadow. Within the Plane of Air, I beheld the scions of noetic understanding. Beyond that, I soared through the Plane of Fire, across empyrean skies inflamed and infuriated with an ecstasy that has inspired humanity into madness. Rising beyond I beheld a vast ocean of Stars, glistening souls cast against the inky blackness; such was Quintessence. Unexpectedly, my gaze turned towards the ground far below and I knew I was not to remain. So, I chose to sink back down, away from their radiance. The experience was to come full circle upon meeting my soulmate, for he was the first to encourage me to rise while being the one into whose embrace I would so willingly return.

I experienced the numinous as a visage both black and blinding. This was not experienced through sight as much as it was through being. I was everything and nothing, within and beyond, experiencing the colliding, extravagant cycle of death and rebirth. I came to witness the notion of Self with eyes unclouded. It exists between the framework of what we believe to be ourselves. From this, I came to understand cosmos and psyche in an entirely new light. My eyes were forever opened to the precious potential of humanity and the immortality of consciousness. In terrible darkness can be found numinous light. In my experience, shadow is not inherently deceptive for its very nature is revelation and a light cast upon mirrors creates far greater confusion than one extinguished.

I lived the tale of a being that was once a vitki, a Scandinavian sorcerer, but had aged from knowledge to the point of resembling a withered husk. I experienced a memory of his younger days, traversing a timeworn forest in a relentless thunderstorm. Above me, I saw what I would describe as an anti-sky, as though I was walking through the quagmires of Hel. As I gazed upon those clouds, I bore a deep knowing that they were apertures to Aeons both great and terrible. The skies sang, the earth groaned and so it was until I reached a sanctuary in the form of ancient ruins and the yawing maw of a cave beyond—a sign that for every bright sunrise, there is always another night to be conquered. This was the only spot in the forest that saw sunlight. And so, I beheld what remained of a great temple and in that pristine moment, I knew I stood upon hallowed grounds where the ancients still breathed. Through shamanic flight, I would return to these ruins many years later and into the cave system just beyond. In the heart of the cavern, I would learn the means to reach other territories of Spirit, the first being the sanctum of Sekhmet.

I stood upon an emerald cliff before sapphire shores, the Vanir behind me and the Aesir before me. I witnessed my brothers sail off into the great unknown. Their chants and songs rang out against the billowing winds and raging seas until they disappeared beyond the horizon. I solemnly turned and walked into the ageless groves, away from what was expected of me and into the deep, eternal embrace of the Earth. This would prove to be a lesson of great value, one that would take a great while to learn.

It witnessed a pharaonic funeral with an empty sarcophagus and walked in the body of an embittered, disgraced priest of Aten. I experienced his journey of healing that lasted nearly two decades, far from the glistening sands of his homeland. I witnessed his return to a nation that would not recognize him and walked the hallowed grounds of an overgrown temple where he would offer in sacrifice his divine ka to the Netjeru. In exchange, the old man besought the Two Lands and their people healed and redeemed. As I lived, he spoke, and I recorded what I could.

“The life of a newborn child is not defined by his anthropological sinews, yet he is their herald in flesh irrespective of his desire. As the child learns – no, it would be practical to bestow consideration to chance; should the child learn to use causality as an extension of his Will, so too may he begin to grasp all that has been sacrificed and accomplished just so that he may behold this physical world with his own eyes, touch the elements and treasure the miseries and joys of Love, experience the chemistry of pleasure and pain, glory in his individuality and the ongoing eruptions of Will that light the Universe aflame, and feel the pride swelling in him for the celestial rivers of life that cascade within his veins. Since the first monumental and alchemical sunrise over the Black Lands, known therein as Kemet in aspects both terrestrial and visionary, the Netjeru have erected endless skies and buried them just as effortlessly. Every man and every woman are borne of the Netjeru as flesh and blood.”

We are children of a divided cosmos, saplings conceived by the union of Earth and Sky. We possess the capacity for profound healing but find it to be an unconquerable sun, rejecting the notion that we are, in fact, the very Star we fear to surmount. Our demons are part of us just as much as our dreams. Better they be treated with love and compassion than rejection and infamy. We are capable of such greatness but forget that greatness always begins on one’s own terms.

This year I will turn thirty-five and I can say with confidence that I have only just begun to live. I was born with clairvoyance, clairaudience, and clairsentience—the abilities to see, hear, and feel on degrees beyond our dense reality. I like to say that I was born with “one foot in the river;” one step in the foothills of Life and another in the river of Death. I am entirely comfortable with the concept of death as I know it is merely a transition to another state of being. Death is a homecoming, a return to what you always were. I don’t just perceive Spirit, I experience It. For most of my life, I was in denial of that fact, so much that during my first dark night of the soul, I suppressed my gifts altogether and would continue to do so for nearly a decade.

It wasn’t until I found myself in the position to teach, to pass down what experience and wisdom I have attained to someone eager to learn and discover their own Path. I have had a few students but one in particular left an undeniable mark. This apprenticeship wasn’t to last and I soon parted ways with them but with the realization that they had given me a gift—they had reunited me with my Path and Opened the Way. I have since come to learn that this individual was my twin flame; whether or not we cross paths again remains to be seen. Years later, it was in meeting my soulmate that everything that was lost and scattered began to coalesce. When you meet the right person in the right place at the right time, everything stops and a moment in time becomes truly eternal. In that precious moment, another soul becomes a window to our own.

The sum composite of my being exists far beyond this reality, a realization that came later than I would like. My purpose in life is not to grasp such things, for Thou Art That. As much as I love to learn and theorize, I came into this body, first and foremost, to help people. The first way to do this is to be my authentic self. By living in accordance with my True Will, I find myself in a position to master my own existence and in doing so will attract what is in resonance with that. I’ve found this a feat much easier said than done but I have lived its success and thus know it to be true.

The second way is to live as a human being. We do not master ourselves by being perfect for there is no such thing. Our journey of imperfection—of skinned knees, bitter fears, and many, many falls—is meant to help us grow by reminding us in small doses that we are eternal. I haven’t discovered the third way, which I am sure exists, but if the formula rings true, I would imagine it has something to do with one’s unending potential. I am fortunate enough to have experienced the lessons afforded to me. In the final analysis, they were just that: things that happened for me rather than to me. I am not always able to maintain that outlook but the fact that I can at all tells me that I have grown.

There emanates a fundamental duality from the heart of the cosmos. The resonance of its heartbeat touches every particle, every antiparticle, all notions of gravitation and expulsion finding themselves awash in the grace of the First Energy. We’ve given that primordial spark many names throughout civilization but the most endearing one can be the easiest to forget when its wisdom is needed the most: Love.

We only have so much time incarnate on this Earth. A third of the way through this life, I now stand at the beginning of a grand, new adventure. I choose to make the most of this life. What makes this easier for me will not work for others. Find what works for you, my friend, and embrace life.

Image is Life Journey #2 by PsychoShadow ART

#shaman #shamanism #shaman journey #altered consciousness #life #life lessons #meaning #soul #soulmates #twin flame #spiritual growth #spiritual awakening #spiritual journey #pagan #paganism #eclectic pagan #pathworking #vanir #vanatru

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lunarxdaydream · 10 months

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Howls of pain are echoing; a crack followed with a pitch that nearly made her shudder with delight. Against cool rocks, the melody is free to travel through the labyrinth of the ancient system. Beneath puddles of water do the indents of dragged feet linger. Familiar patterns of nails clawing in desperation to escape but to no avail. They are abandoned. Expendable tokens to use as she pleased …

“My sweet darlings!”

Jaws bite down with a ferocity of an eager animal. Glimmering orbs of steel blue to ruby all turn in her direction; nostrils flared to inhale the scent of the celestial before powerful tails swished behind in what could only be joy. Pitch black doors of steel remain wide open in the expansive caverns. Their meals lay in scattered mess of flowing crimson; a stench enough to even make Lucrezia’s nose scrunch.

“My babies …”, she cooed as her figure rose in the air to reach the head of a scaled beast; twin tail spiked and cutting into rock as its head tilt into her caress. “I was beginning to worry.”

“Did you behave for me?”

“Define ‘behave’.”

Corners turned up as a figure emerged from the abyss of the doors. His hand resting in his pocket as an object is tossed to the emerald beast who clamped down with a speed that could make any mother proud. “I was wondering if you were still around.” A few more pieces were thrown into the center with a sickening splash before the pack delved in.

“You figured it out.”

“I did.” Just the sheer size of their wings is enough to leave the celestial reeling with excitement as the nest fell into the throes of hunger. Relentless. Merciless. Not even a grain of crushed bone is left — oh have sweetly they have grown! Far too much time has passed since she last watched the dragão. The joy they will have once they take to the skies!

— But first …

Stone trembles as an old groan of hinges tore through the noise. Beneath rock and calcium, dust of diamonds falling to the ground as a wave to shore. There, the god squints against the brightness before sapphire veil settled in place. Contents beyond obscured but nothing to alert the creatures as Lucrezia parted to caress the surface.

“Dinner is ready.”

One by one, prisoners wander through with a gasp of fright. Their final chance to turn and run denied by the gate.

There is only one way out, and as the creatures stood on high upon powerful legs, eyes aglow with blood stained fangs, the final screams of plea fell on deaf ears.

“Tell Valeriya we have much to discuss.”

#( Lucrezia || drabble )#( q: with the pups )

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the-lovecore-abnormality · 2 months

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who is alive in your world then?

Uhhhhh, Extracted Prism Sunsetsis alive, as well as Twelve Far Away Dreams, Ruby Skies by Sapphire Shores, Eight Crashing Tides, and Thirteen Elder Stories.

Everyone else in Group Alpha here is dead surprisingly >.>

#rainworld obsessed can reborn #ga the lovecore

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gwenndael · 3 years

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Ô toison, moutonnant jusque sur l'encolure ! Ô boucles ! Ô parfum chargé de nonchaloir ! Extase ! Pour peupler ce soir l'alcôve obscure Des souvenirs dormant dans cette chevelure, Je la veux agiter dans l'air comme un mouchoir ! La langoureuse Asie et la brûlante Afrique, Tout un monde lointain, absent, presque défunt, Vit dans tes profondeurs, forêt aromatique ! Comme d'autres esprits voguent sur la musique, Le mien, ô mon amour ! nage sur ton parfum. J'irai là-bas où l'arbre et l'homme, pleins de sève, Se pâment longuement sous l'ardeur des climats ; Fortes tresses, soyez la houle qui m'enlève ! Tu contiens, mer d'ébène, un éblouissant rêve De voiles, de rameurs, de flammes et de mâts : Un port retentissant où mon âme peut boire A grands flots le parfum, le son et la couleur ; Où les vaisseaux, glissant dans l'or et dans la moire, Ouvrent leurs vastes bras pour embrasser la gloire D'un ciel pur où frémit l'éternelle chaleur. Je plongerai ma tête amoureuse d'ivresse Dans ce noir océan où l'autre est enfermé ; Et mon esprit subtil que le roulis caresse Saura vous retrouver, ô féconde paresse, Infinis bercements du loisir embaumé ! Cheveux bleus, pavillon de ténèbres tendues, Vous me rendez l'azur du ciel immense et rond ; Sur les bords duvetés de vos mèches tordues Je m'enivre ardemment des senteurs confondues De l'huile de coco, du musc et du goudron. Longtemps ! toujours ! ma main dans ta crinière lourde Sèmera le rubis, la perle et le saphir, Afin qu'à mon désir tu ne sois jamais sourde ! N'es-tu pas l'oasis où je rêve, et la gourde Où je hume à longs traits le vin du souvenir ?

(charles Baudelaire, La chevelure)

The Fleece

O shadowy fleece that falls and curls upon those bare Lithe shoulders! O rich perfume of forgetfulness! O ecstasy! To loose upon the midnight air The memories asleep in this tumultuous hair, I long to rake it in my fingers, tress by tress!

Asia the languorous, the burning solitude Of Africa — a whole world, distant, all but dead — Survives in thy profundities, O odorous wood! My soul, as other souls put forth on the deep flood Of music, sails away upon thy scent instead.

There where the sap of life mounts hot in man and tree, And lush desire untamed swoons in the torrid zone, Undulant tresses, wild strong waves, oh, carry me! Dream, like a dazzling sun, from out this ebony sea Rises; and sails and banks of rowers propel me on.

All the confusion, all the mingled colors, cries, Smells of a busy port, upon my senses beat; Where smoothly on the golden streakèd ripples flies The barque, its arms outspread to gather in the skies, Against whose glory trembles the unabating heat.

In this black ocean where the primal ocean roars, Drunken, in love with drunkenness, I plunge and drown; Over my dubious spirit the rolling tide outpours Its peace — oh, fruitful indolence, upon thy shores, Cradled in languor, let me drift and lay me down!

Blue hair, darkness made palpable, like the big tent Of desert sky all glittering with many a star Thou coverest me — oh, I am drugged as with the blent Effluvia of a sleeping caravan, the scent Of coco oil impregnated with musk and tar.

Fear not! Upon this savage mane for ever thy lord Will sow pearls, sapphires, rubies, every stone that gleams, To keep thee faithful! Art not thou the sycamored Oasis whither my thoughts journey, and the dark gourd Whereof I drink in long slow draughts the wine of dreams?

— George Dillon & Edna St. Vincent Millay, Flowers of Evil (NY: Harper and Brothers, 1936)

(translation source : https://fleursdumal.org/poem/203)

#baudelaire #vintage #hair #rétro #cheveux #crinière #toison #poesie #poetry

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ericsonclan · 3 years

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All Who Glitter

Summary: The Ericson Pirates stumble upon a cave that has a legend attach to it.

Word Count: 2201

Read on AO3:

Aasim leaned over the side of the ship, hurling the remnants of lunch as the ship swayed. A long strand of saliva trailed down and dangled from his mouth before he spit it into the sea. He hated storms but this one had been particularly bad. The skies were an ominous grey as lighting and thunder rained from above. The sea itself seemed to be on a quest to have Ol’ Kickass and all the pirates on it join Davy Jones’ Locker. Luckily unlike other times no one had gotten hurt and thanks to Clementine's steering they were able to get out of it. He felt a warm hand rub his back as a voice he adored spoke.

“You doing okay?” Ruby asked with a warm smile.

“Yeah. I’ll be fine.” Aasim looked around, taking in the foreign location. “But where are we?”

The ship stood before a large cove, its turquoise waters washing in and out, drawing the eyes toward a cave. Water fell from its ceiling, causing a quiet sound to echo throughout as the ripples spread. The cave glowed with a warm golden tone as the water fell, making it an even more curious and mysterious place. Even with the ship docked on shore, Aasim’s stomach still felt a relentless wave of nausea.

“I’m not sure.” Prisha’s voice drew Aasim's attention as she stood with most of the crew on shore. “But we should proceed with caution.”

“I agree.” Clementine spoke as she stared towards the cave. “We should all rest first. That storm was-”

Louis’ gasp cut her off though as he jumped down from the ship. His boots sunk deep into the white sand before he nearly faceplanted due to his rash jump. A few stumbles and wobbly hands and the captain was back on solid footing. “I can’t believe it’s real!” His voice was filled with excitement. He did a little jig which AJ imitated. “The forbidden cove!”

“What the hell is the forbidden cove?” Mitch grumbled as he lay against the ship, his arm clutching his stomach. Brody stood beside him looking concerned for Mitch. She didn’t like how pale his face was looking.

“I’m glad you asked!” Louis shouted. With a mighty leap he jumped onto a nearby rock, his arms outstretched dramatically and his legs crouched as he stood before the crew. “Legend has it that there is a small cove around these waters with a cave hidden inside that only appears during the cycle of a full moon. It’s said to be filled with unimaginable treasure. Gold as far as the eye can see and pearls bigger than any oyster could produce! It would put even the richest men in all the seven seas to shame!”

A gasp came from the younger boys who were entranced by the tale. Louis gave a large smile, clearly enjoying every minute. Sophie strolled forward, clearly intrigued by the tale as well.

“But!” Louis shouted, pushing back his coat dramatically, “Be warned! For whoever steals from the cave will be put under a curse! His body turned into the very thing he tried to steal… Gold!”

That drew out some gasps from the crew. Sophie smiled as she saw Willy excitedly bouncing up and down at the tale. Tenn looked just as interested in the story even if he wasn’t as energetically showing it.

Violet let out a sigh. “Really, Louis? Gold?”

“It’s true! That’s how the legend goes.” Louis exclaimed with a huff before he jumped down.

“We should be careful.” Brody spoke up. “It may just be a legend, but we’ve dealt with things like this that turned out to be real.”

Sophie glanced over at her friend and nodded in agreement. “Make sense. I’ve heard enough tales of your wild adventures and been in enough with this crew to know that if there is a legend the seven seas hold, there has to be some truth to it.”

“Wait! Where’s Willy?” Clementine asked. The crew all looked around before the realization hit them.

“You don’t think….” Ruby’s gaze turned towards the cave. Everyone’s eyes followed hers.

“That idiot!” Violet grumbled as she sprinted forward, her bare feet shifting and slipping in the warm sand. The rest of the crew followed her closely, one behind the other, nervous for what kind of trouble one of the wildest Ericson Pirates could have gotten himself into.

As they entered the cave they all froze as they saw Willy before them. His arms were covered with fancy jewelry. Emeralds, diamonds and sapphires danced on the necklace around his neck and the rings that adorned his fingers. The sharp clink of coins hitting each other drew the crew’s attention to the pirate’s hands. Dozens if not hundreds of gold coins were haphazardly tuck away in his arms and between his fingers. A crown slowly slid down his head as he looked at them with a goofy grin.

“Willy, take it off! Drop the treasure!” Prisha shouted frantically as she began to climb the mountain of loot that the young pirate stood at the very tippy top of.

“Which ones?” Willy’s voice was slightly muffled.

“All of it! It’s fucking cursed!” Mitch yelled as he ran forward to help, slipping on gold and necklaces as he tried to reach him. Willy’s eyes grew large at the sight of Prisha and Mitch climbing up the gold along with Sophie and Violet. Seeing how tense they all looked, he decided it best to listen to their words. Willy chucked off the crown and began throwing away any other jewelry he had been wearing. Rings went flying and necklaces were torn off. The wild-haired pirate spat out coins as he continued his mission to get all the jewelry off.

“Why are there coins in your mouth?” Louis asked as he stared in awe of how many coins were flying out. There must’ve been easily over a dozen that he had spit out so far.

“I wanted to see if it was real or food!” Willy shouted.

“Why would it be food?” Clementine looked utterly confused by the young pirate’s logic.

“Anything could be potential food,” Sophie argued which Mitch and Violet silently agreed to. Growing up on the streets, you’d look for food anywhere.

Suddenly Willy’s feet began to feel heavy; any feeling in his toes had disappeared. His green eyes danced with shock and fear when he looked down and noticed that inch by inch his body was turning to gold.

“What the shit?!?” Louis screamed and began to climb up the mountain of treasure too. “Guys! Help him get all the treasure off!”

The crew ran forward, each person desperately trying to reach Willy in time. Mitch grunted as he reached the top and scurried forward to help get rid of all the treasure as the gold slowly overtook Willy’s chest. Willy took the final necklace off before his arms began to harden. As the necklace fell the last inch of his fingertips was covered. The jeweled necklace dropped with a thud as did the crew’s hearts as they looked on at the sight before them. Willy stood there, a statue of gold.

The crew stared in silence, shocked by the sight before them. None of them knew what to say when suddenly Willy’s body shifted and began to slide down the mountain of treasure.

“Willy!” Tenn and AJ cried out as they scampered to reach him.

“Fucking shit,” Mitch ran forward, sliding down a trail of coins as he clutched Willy’s golden form. Prisha, Sophie and Violet grabbed on as well and slowed down the descent. The four successfully got Willy to the bottom of the treasure mountain safely.

“Get him back on the ship. We can figure out a solution there.” Clementine’s voice was calm even though she didn’t feel like it.

Louis and Marlon stepped forward, each carrying a side of Willy.

“Holy shit! How much does he weigh?” Marlon asked as he tried to move him. Mitch joined in, helping the others lift Willy. AJ and Tenn followed their example and tried to help out even though their strength didn’t match the older pirates’.

“He’s solid gold so it would make sense that he would be extremely heavy.” Aasim noted as joined in. After a few breaks, many hands and some pirates falling into the shallow water and sands of the shore, the crew got Willy onto the ship.

“Alright, we need to start looking for solutions!” Louis announced. “Everyone split up into teams and start looking. Prisha and Aasim, look in your scrolls for anything to do with spells that involve gold. Ruby, Brody and Omar can look into things to do with natural remedies. As for the rest of us, we’ll brainstorm ideas and go from there.” Within minutes the crew got in their respective groups and quickly went to work.

Hours flew by as night turned into day. The feeling of defeat washed over the crew as they stood before Willy’s gold figure, nowhere closer to the answer that would break him free of his golden prison. Garbage hissed in concern as she circled him. Her tail wrapped around his legs as her beady eyes darted around at the other pirates as if demanding they find a way to fix this.

“It doesn’t make any sense,” Prisha held a hand up to her chin. “All the gold that he had worn is off.” “According to our scrolls that fact should make it impossible for the curse to remain,” Aasim tsked angrily. “Yet here he is, still a statue of gold.”

The rest of the crew remained quiet. After a few minutes of doom and gloom Louis snapped his crew back into the fighting spirit and once again they continued their search. There had to be something that could help him. The crew all worked tirelessly below decks when suddenly a loud noise came from above decks, causing everyone to run up there.

“Thieves! They got Willy!” Tenn shouted as he ran down the steps and towards the others.

“The fuck they do!” Mitch yelled as he sprinted up the stairs and towards the side of the ship. With one jump he landed on shore, running after the thieves as he swore.

“That dumbass!” Violet grumbled, putting her hands on the side of the ship and vaulting herself over the edge of Ol’ Kickass as she chased after her childhood friend.

The thieves looked back and let out a yelp as they saw Mitch slowly gaining on them, his face twisted with anger.

“Get back here, you pieces of shit!” Mitch snapped.

“Drop it! It's not worth it!” one of the thieves hissed. The other nodded; they had barely made it past the ship. With a scared yell the thieves threw Willy into the sea. His golden form quickly got pulled further into the water’s depths by the tide, heading out to sea. Mitch and Violet’s eyes widened in panic as they both desperately tried to grab him, but his fingers slid out of their reach as he began to sink.

“Marlon!” Louis yelled before jumping in after Willy.

Marlon followed shortly behind. They two dove down, kicking their legs frantically as they tried to lift him up. Prisha and Clementine ran around the deck grabbing any available rope which they threw down to Louis and Marlon as soon as they emerged from the sea. After tying a few quick knots, Prisha and Clementine began to pull. Sophie grabbed the rope and began to help then Brody joined her then Ruby and soon the rest of the crew joined in as the golden boy went up inch by inch. Soon Willy’s golden form stood before them once more, safe and sound.

Everyone was busy catching their breath, thankful that it had worked out when they noticed Willy’s sleeve had been crinkled by the pressure of the ropes. Underneath the sleeve was a small bracelet.

“That’s it!” Louis shouted as he pointed at it. “That’s the last cursed item!”

“We need to get something that could loosen it.” Prisha said as she stared at the bracelet.

“Cooking oil should work.” Omar said with a matter of fact voice before disappearing below decks. When he emerged he held in his hand a bowl of oil. Each crew member dipped their hand into it and started to rub the oil on the bracelet and around it. After a few minutes the bracelet started to loosen and with one hard collective pull it came off. Without a word, Louis wrapped the bracelet in a cravat before placing it in a slingshot and shooting it towards the cave.

“Bye bye you gold bully,” Louis gave a mock salute. The gold bracelet ricocheted off the wall and into the cave. The crew gave their less than pleasant farewells to the cursed object when a loud gasp from behind caused them to turn and see Willy standing before them, no longer gold. The crew all ran forward and wrapped him up in a hug. Each of them talked over each other and took turns ruffling his hair as short laughs of relief filled the air. The curse was finally broken.

#twdg #twdg louis #twdg clementine #twdg aj #twdg tenn #twdg willy #twdg brody #twdg mitch #twdg ruby #twdg aasim #twdg violet #twdg prisha #twdg sophie #twdg omar #fanfic #a pirate's life for me au

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agirlinhell · 5 years

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OKAY SO I’VE HAD A LOT OF ASOIAF / GOT RP BLOGS FOLLOWING ME LATELY AND I JUST HAVE TO LET YOU ALL KNOW THAT CLEMENTINE HAS SEVERAL VERSES, IN DIFFERENT ERAS AND IN DIFFERENT FACTIONS OF THE SERIES. I mostly follow book canon, as I’ve read all the books and I’ve watched all the seasons, but I am also show friendly, as well. I will be using Amandla Stenberg, Nyane Lebajoa and Indya Marie as her faceclaims. As this is A Song Of Ice And Fire / Game Of Thrones, there will naturally be explicit and mature content in a variety of different ways. She is bisexual, as in canon. There are six verses in all.

Although, they are not officially in my verses quite yet, allow me to elaborate them for you. Long post under the cut!

#1: Clementine is a skinchanger and a spearwife beyond the Wall whilst possessing greensight. She’s lived among the Free Folk all her life and was born near Hardhome. When she and the entire horde of the Free Folk are being driven south by the Others. she’s actually quite capable of defending herself even for a small girl, she’s taken out a few lone wights by herself. Clementine had faced the wrath of the likes of rangers of the Night’s Watch, slavers from the eastern cities, Hornfoots and Nightrunners, men and women of the Frozen Shore, men of the Ice-river clans who feasted on human flesh, snowbears, shadowcats and even other wargs. But worst of all the enemies she had fought were the wights, those moving corpses who only devoured the flesh of the living without a second thought. The girl had seen the likes of giants and mammoths, and she could see through the eyes of the beasts of the land and the birds in the skies, things that the girls of the south would hardly begin to imagine. Yet, at only age sixteen, she had managed to survive long enough to make it to The Wall. She wonders what the lands are like Beyond The Wall, survival is all she’s ever known. When the Free Folk are brought south of The Wall, Clementine is being taught how to read by Shireen Baratheon and the maesters at Castle Black. She has a shadowcat for a companion and can warg into it and take over its body as its host. The Free Folk both fear her and respect her, and several of the men of the Night’s Watch can say the same. Some think that she is descended from the Children of The Forest because of her golden eyes, but that is up to speculation. To put it very simply, this is her verse for any muses from the North or Beyond The Wall. I can easily see her being tangled up with Melisandre or the Boltons, perhaps she can possibly help Jeyne Poole escape Winterfell? She is age sixteen in this verse. This verse will be tagged as v; I MAY BE YOUR PRISONER BUT I AM A FREE WOMAN. ( A SONG OF ICE & FIRE / GAME OF THRONES. || THE FREE FOLK. )

#2: Clementine is a Princess of the Summer Isles. She serves Queen Margaery Tyrell as a lady in-waiting while serving as an intermediary between the Iron Throne and the Summer Isles as a princess of one of the isles and is one of their representatives so that trade between Westeros and the Summer Isles can continue further. Clementine is of Rhoynar, Summer Islander and Naathi descent. From a young age, she had been taught how to fight with a spear and shoot with her goldenheart bow and arrows that could pierce through even steel plate, as in the Summer Isles, women are considered equal to men. At age sixteen, she is well versed in many languages, the arts of love, music, song, dance and war. She leaves the Summer Isles on a swan ship to The Reach to broker a deal with the Hightowers at Oldtown at a young age while accompanied by an entourage of her own, and Alerie Hightower selected her to be one of ladies in waiting at Highgarden. Clem travels with Margaery and her relatives all throughout the events of The War of The Five Kings until they reach King’s Landing. When Margaery is betrothed to Joffrey Baratheon, Clementine is introduced in court, as well, and is seen as an exotic beauty by much of the court. She gets a lot of requests for marriage or simply sharing her bed from many lords of Westeros, including but not limited to Jhalabar Xho, Aurane Waters, Willam Wythers, Perros Blackmont and Daemon Sand, because many want the riches and treasures that the Summer Isles provide, and Clementine is an attractive young lady, something she will use to her advantage in court. ( **Note: this is what happens in my portrayal, if you portray any of these muses, this does not need to happen. )

She wears the feather capes that the Summer Islanders are known for and her loose silken diaphanous gowns from Naath, her hair is adorned with a myriad of butterflies and flowers in her hair and dressed in brilliantly colored feathers of exotic birds, silks, seashells and gemstones - rubies, sapphires, emeralds and pearls, along with the gowns and Myrish lace that Westeros provides when serving Queen Margaery Tyrell. Yet her heart always lies with her home. Afterward, she intends to venture to the Temples of Love in the isles and allow others to share her bed, as was expected of her and all other individuals on the isles, male or female, lowborn or highborn, as a way of worshiping her gods. She keeps to the gods of the Summer Isles and the Lord of Harmony of Naath and she’s been rumored to practice water magic, but this is debatable. She will protect her Queen with her life if need be.

Her fellow companions at court are Megga, Alla, Elinor and Leona Tyrell, Margaery’s cousins, Alyn Ambrose, Alysanne Bulwer, Meredyth Crane, Alyce Graceford, Taena Merryweather of Myr, Leonette Fossoway, Mira Forrester, Sara Durwell / Flowers and Septa Nysterica, a sister of the Faith. Through it all, even though she finds King’s Landing fascinating at first, she grows to yearn for her motherland… and learns that the capital is a pit of vipers. In A Feast For Crows, Clementine is accused of lewdness, fornication and high treason by The Faith and is arrested for crimes she did not commit. In a Dance With Dragons, Clementine’s currently awaiting her trial alongside the queen’s within the Sept of Baelor. To put it very simply, this verse is for King’s Landing and any shenanigans that may occur there, and it will be tagged as: v; YOU SHOULD SEE ME IN A CROWN. ( A SONG OF ICE & FIRE / GAME OF THRONES. || KING'S LANDING. )

#3:Clementine is a dragonrider, sorceress and noblewoman of the Valyrian Freehold, a daughter of the ancient House Targaryen, of the union of Aenar Targaryen and a princess from the Summer Isles. Keeping to the Gods of Old Valyria and the Deities of the Summer Isles, she finds herself praying to both deities, never truly having a preference of any of them over the other. One of the most striking things about her physical appearance are her violet eyes and her silver hair from her Valyrian ancestry, yet her skin tone is purely Summer Islander. It seems her lady mother won the genetics lottery. Clem has a good standing relationship with her half-siblings and most notably in Daenys Targaryen who would later to be known as Daenys the Dreamer renowned for foreseeing the Doom of Valyria twelve years prior to it’s fiery downfall. Clementine is dragonrider to the dragoness Zalliel. They practically grew up together from the time she was only an infant girl in her crib, as she’d been holding her egg to keep it warm. Zalliel, like her rider, had a thirst for adventure and freedom. Although not the warlike type, the dragoness would fight to the very bitter end to protect her rider. Her lord father, Aenar Targaryen, had paid a fine amount of gold for one of the best blacksmiths in the Freehold to make his youngest daughter a Valyrian steel sword, as Clementine had a intrigue for blades and the art of war, despite her calm and gentle exterior. Her lord father always knew that she had a fire burning in her heart. Clementine named this blade Dark Sister and so when she soared into the battlefield on dragonback, she would be seen fighting with it, as well as using one of her lady mother’s goldenheart bows and arrows. Clementine is a warrior through and through, and the blade has passed down to the future generations of House Targaryen, such as Queen Visenya Targaryen, Maegor Targaryen, Prince Daemon Targaryen and Lord Brynden Rivers, to which the sword is now lost to history.

Clementine was born - and grew up - within Valyria, and magic was at its height in the capital and in all the known world. At its apex Valyria was the greatest city in the known world, the center of civilization. Within its shining walls, twoscore rival houses vied for power and glory in court and council, rising and falling in an endless, subtle, oftsavage struggle for dominance. She enjoyed much of her childhood and adolescence there, loving to soar around the seemingly topless towers in the city, or spending time with her family in Lys. She kept monkeys, apes, panther cubs, and parrots from the Summer Isles as pets. She was taught in the arts of love and war, in many languages and was taught how in the magical arts by several sorcerers and mages hired by her lord father and lady mother. She is of Summer Islander, Naathi, Rhoynar and Valyrian descent, and was a member of the Young Dragons faction of Valyria. House Targaryen at the time was not considered a powerful house, compared to the forty other noble families of Valyria, but Clem cared little for court politics, but she was seen as a beauty amongst the dragonlords. In the Freehold, dragons were usually tamed with dragonhorns, sorcery and whips, but Clementine disliked the cruelty and thus attached herself to Zalliel in other ways, by way of kindness and companionship. After Daenys the Dreamer prophesied that Valyria would be destroyed, Aenar sold his holdings in the Valyrian Freehold and the Lands of the Long Summer, and moved with all his family, wives, wealth, slaves, and dragons, with House Velaryon and House Celtigar following behind them to Dragonstone, a bleak island citadel beneath the Dragonmont, a smoking mountain in the narrow sea. The Targaryens were far from the most powerful of the dragonlords, and their rivals in Valyria saw their flight as an act of cowardice. However, because Aenar had moved his family away from Valyria, the Targaryens were the only dragonlords to survive the Doom in 114 BC and the following Century of Blood.

Clementine, however, was unhappy with the whole ordeal, feeling as if her entire future was being torn away to rot and sit at the very westernmost precipice of the Valyrian Freehold - Dragonstone, especially near a place as foreign and strange as Westeros. She helped her family with their affairs in Essos, most predominantly in the wars of the Free Cities. After staying for a few years at Dragonstone, deciding to rebel against her father and refusing to stay any longer in the bleak citadel before she withered away, took all of her things and her dragon and soared away from Dragonstone to travel the known world. What happens to her afterward is still debated by the maesters of the Citadel to this day, and her adventures vary depending on the tale. Some say she had affairs with several Westerosi lords - and even ladies, others say she eventually united the Summer Isles under her rule - something that was uncommon amongst the islanders, while alternate sources claim she was a consort of a YiTish god-emperor. What is known, however, is that she’s had many lovers - both men and women - and several adventures in her life and eventually returned to Dragonstone by way of a ship and brought Dark Sister back to the ancestral home it belonged to, and that she lived a very long and natural life. To put it very simply, this verse is for any pre-ASOIAF / GOT characters before Aegon’s Conquest. The tag for this verse is: v; I AM THE DRAGON'S DAUGHTER. ( A SONG OF ICE & FIRE / GAME OF THRONES. || THE VALYRIAN FREEHOLD. )

( Note: Slavery, incest and polygamy are all a part of Valyrian culture, especially amongst the nobles. Her father had many wives and Clementine\s half siblings, as was common in Valyria, married and had children together. Incest is common among the noble families of Valyria and even then they’re often political with no romance involved and Clementine is a noblewoman, so it’s entirely possible she may have been betrothed. Slavery exists in this time period and Valyria profited off of slavery. Please keep in mind that I tolerate NONE of these things as a mun, but it is something that does happen and I will not be sugarcoating it in my portrayal, but I will always tag it when mentioned. )

#4: Clementine is a lady of Dornish, Summer Islander, Naathi and Rhoynar descent and owes her allegiance to House Martell. Although mostly underdeveloped in comparison to the rest of her verses, Clementine was born and grew up in the Summer Isles before being sent to Dorne as an older child as a negotiation agreement for trade, and she grows fond of Dorne while staying there. Eventually, she works together with Arianne Martell, the Sand Snakes and Arianne’s entourage to crown Myrcella Baratheon as true Queen of the Seven Kingdoms by Dornish law. In A Storm of Swords, she attends Ellaria Sand and Oberyn Martell and saw the consequences of the trial by combat go horribly wrong, with the Red Viper’s death having a critical blow on the Dornish. During the later parts of the books, she stays back in Dorne and attends Doran Martell with anything he might need, all while taking care of Princess Myrcella. To put it simply, this verse is mostly for interacting with characters from Dorne and mostly southern Westeros. The tag for this verse is v; SHE WHISPERS INTO THE EARS OF MEN. ( A SONG OF ICE & FIRE / GAME OF THRONES. || DORNE. )

#5: Clementine is a Princess of the Summer Isles, and was born and grew up in the isles. She was sent by her lord father to negotiate with the Free Cities on matters of trade... only to be kidnapped by Basilisk Isles raiders and to be sold as a slave in Meereen, first as a female fighter in the fighting pits, before being noticed by some of the Masters and being taken to the Temple of the Graces to be trained as a Red Grace - all of this against her will. When Daenerys Targaryen enters the scene, however, Clementine is one of the first women to raise the sword for the Dragon Queen. Daenerys frees her from her bondage as a slave and a Red Grace and Clementine has been loyal to her - and her entourage - since. This verse is used to interact with any muses of Slaver’s Bay or any individuals who are aligned with House Targaryen in the present time. It will be tagged as v; I'D RATHER DIE ON MY FEET THAN LIVE ON MY KNEES. ( A SONG OF ICE & FIRE / GAME OF THRONES. || SLAVER'S BAY. )

#6: Clementine is a young lady trained to become the next Black Pearl of Braavos, one of the most proeminent courtesans of the city. From a very young age, she was educated and trained in various cultural pursuits such as art, music, poetry, calligraphy, song, dance, history, literature and flower and fan language. She’s an educated girl of good social standing, who is oft present at festivals and entertainments, and is hired as a mourner at funerals. She, like her lady mother, enjoys high status and is famous worldwide. She, like every other courtesan, has her own barge and servants to work them, as slavery does not exist in Braavos. Her beauty has inspired many a song and she is showered with gifts from goldsmiths and craftsmen beg for her custom. Nobility and rich merchants pay her large amounts of money to appear alongside them at events, merchant princes pay royal ransom to have her on their arms at balls, feasts and mummer shows and bravos are known to kill each other in her name.

She is famous, respected and wealthy and enjoy a kind of celebrity status as well as a certain kind of mystique, and she is cultured and beautiful. She sleeps on rose petals and wears silken skirts that rustle when she walks, and great lords beggar themselves for her maiden’s blood. She can trace her descent through the female line to the daughter of Bellegere Otherys, a pirate queen who was the first Black Pearl, and King Aegon IV Targaryen, and thus the earlier generations of the Targaryen Dynasty as a whole, as well as having other bloodlines such as having royal descent of both a Princess of the Summer Isles and a Sealord of Braavos. She dresses in charcoal grey, purple, blues so dark that are almost black, and blacks as dark as moonlight. Clementine is age sixteen and is still in the process of following her mother’s footsteps. This verse is used for muses of Western Essos, moreso the Free Cities and particularly Braavos, but Clementine can easily travel elsewhere. This verse is tagged as v; THE BLACK PEARL. ( A SONG OF ICE & FIRE / GAME OF THRONES. || BRAAVOS. )

#( VERSES. )#OUT OF THE APOCALYPSE. ( ANGIE SPEAKS. )#( y'all know i had to do it to 'em. )

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trashyscrub · 6 years

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Under the Rain

Summary: Back in Goldenrod, Ruby hated the rain. But soon after moving into Littleroot, with some (or a lot) of coaxing, Ruby soon fell in love with it.

Word Count: 2004

A/N: I’m surprised I ended up writing this one-shot. Says a lot about my priorities. Tbh, I was actually working on another fic chapter, but soon found myself opening another doc because a plot bunny literally just slapped itself across my face. Nonetheless, here’s my crappy one shot!

Under the Rain

Back in Goldenrod, Ruby had hated the rain.

Especially when there was heavy rainfall in the metropolitan city that was Goldenrod, Ruby had usually spent his days cooped up inside his house. While his mother had usually hummed to herself as she cooked up a hot meal for her and her son to eat during the storm, Ruby would be seated on a soft pillow across a window, leaning against the wall as he sewed together his latest masterpiece. Whenever Ruby would get tired, he'd press his cheek against the glass pane, eyeing the cityscape from the corner of his eye as raindrops would batter against it.

His thoughts would usually revolve around the same topic. Rain never made anything look good. The overcast clouds looming over the usually lit up city had never appealed to Ruby. With the dark shadows, it was rare to see anyone walking around the streets, enjoying the sunlight as it rose over the buildings. An eerie quietness would cast itself over the city grounds, and everything would be an empty space filled with puddles upon puddles upon puddles.

Rain also proved to be a hassle for Ruby. How else was he supposed to go to the mall and buy the yarn that was usually on sale over the weekends? And risk getting soaked? No thank you.

However, it wasn't until he moved into Littleroot that his thoughts began to change.

When Ruby first moved to Hoenn, had it not been for his feud with his father, the jarring difference between Jhoto's modern cities and Hoenn's rural countryside had almost made him want to hide in a closet and never come out. To him, Hoenn was just that: a scorching hot and tropical region that would make him sweat through his clothes due to its humidity.

Oh yes, with constant rain too. And he despised the rain.

But soon enough, with some (or a lot) of coaxing, Ruby soon fell in love with the region. It was so much more than just a "rural countryside."

Volcanoes raised high up into the skies. Sandstorms brewing across vast deserts. Powerful ocean waves pounding against rock formations near the shores. Canopies of forestry blocking out the bright blue that only let little rays of sunlight shine through.

The land. The ocean. The skies. To the naked eye, Hoenn was a gorgeous region. However, one needed to truly step foot into the region and explore themselves to appreciate Hoenn's beauty.

Even Ruby's previous perception of rain began to change drastically over time.

While Ruby was sewing in the cozy confines of his house in Littleroot Town, he began to hear the familiar pitter patter of raindrops falling onto the roof. Hoenn was such a tropical region that rain was already a given, with its humid climates and all. He let his eyes lazily travel through the town from his perch, watching as the soil began to darken and the water falling from the leaves. He took off his glasses, listening as the town fell into a quiet hush, before getting up and storing away his materials into his backpack.

Grabbing his Pokeballs and slinging his backpack across his back, Ruby went downstairs to see his mother cooking up a storm in the kitchen. She was silently humming under her breath as she sliced up the potatoes and carrots. A pot was heating up on the oven, and Ruby could smell a delicious aroma wafting from it. He rummaged through the closet to find an umbrella, and once he found it, he cleared his throat to catch his mother's attention.

"What you making?" he asked, making his way across the kitchen to look at the contents inside the pot.

She smiled in response, her apron snug and tied across her waist. "Just making curry. Hot food is always best served when it's raining after all." She continued to cut the vegetables and when she was finished, poured the contents into the pot next to him. Grabbing a ladle, she began to stir the vegetables in the sauce. "I might add in some coconut as well. You always liked mixing coconut with curry."

Ruby tried not to jump too much in excitement. She knew him too well. "Yea, can't wait for it."

Once his mother finished stirring, she lowered the heat and eyed his umbrella. "Huh, you planning on going out?"

He nodded in response. "Yea, I just want to take a short walk. I'll be back before dinner though." He didn't want to worry her too much.

However, it looked like she wasn't too concerned, as she only sent him a smug smile in reply. "No, it's alright. Take your time, dear. I'll still be here anyways." She turned back around to raise the heat again, signalling the end of the conversation.

Ruby blinked at her behavior, feeling the back of his ears begin to burn as he scrambled towards the door. Slapping on his running shoes and opening his umbrella, he heard his mother shout at him to "have fun" before he closed the door. The moment the door closed, he sighed loudly to himself, but then shook his head and started his trek into the forest. While his mother could be embarrassing at times, he knew she meant well.

As he walked in the forest though, his running shoes sank slightly into the mud, however he didn't care too much. The air around him was fresh and earthy, and the trees above him sheltered him from most of the rain. Droplets of water dripped from the sides of his umbrella, and he twirled it in his hands. With an extra skip in his step, he saw some a small pack of Poochyena quitely snoozing in a hollow trunk, and he forced back a grin.

Climbing up the side of the cliff, Ruby wrung the water out of his umbrella and set it outside the cave entrance, before walking into their secret base. He sat down onto a nearby chair, and removed his materials out of his backpack. He grabbed his sewing needle that was attached to the garment he was working on. However, while he fully intended on continuing his work, his grip on the needle was slack as he stared outside of the mouth of the cave, watching more droplets falling by. Hoenn was such an… untouchable place. Everything seemed so natural and pure, somehow still keeping its identity while people settled across the continent.

Perhaps that was what always fascinated him — the way people in Hoenn so easily integrated themselves into the region without making any drastic changes.

After a few moments of staring, he soon heard the sound of footsteps outside. A silhouette appeared from the front and not to his surprise, there she was. The brunette girl blinked at him, her blue eyes widened in astonishment. "Oh, Ruby, I…" she paused. "I didn't think I'd see you here today."

He tilted his head to the side, the side of his mouth quirked up into a grin. "Well, Sapphire, you'd think a little rain would stop me?"

Her eyebrows rose a notch, before she sighed to herself. She then crouched down next to his seat, staring the needle in his hand. "Really? You're already making something else?"

He smirked at her. "Why wouldn't I?"

She shrugged, the smile on her face slowly morphing in more smug one."I dunno, maybe it's because you've already made the same hat several times for Nana? You couldn't just have settled for a single hat?"

Ruby scoffed. "You know what they say, 'Fashion is like eating, you shouldn't stick with the same menu.' Of course I'm gonna have to experiment before I make the perfect hat."

Her smug grin didn't let up. "A perfect hat aside, you can't tell it's perfect if it looks exactly the same to a more casual viewer."

He blinked, a little taken aback from her sudden snark. "Excuse me?"

"You're excused."

She never failed to surprise him.

After sharing a laugh, the duo settled back into silence, and Ruby started working on his stitches once again. Despite this, while his stitches remained on point, he found his mind wandering to other places, refusing to stay situated in a single place. Mentally, he sighed in frustration, but he soon saw Sapphire at the peripheral of his vision. She had moved back to the entrance of the cave and was carefully drying herself off, trying her best to avoid spilling water onto the rugs in their base.

It was then that he finally took note of her appearance. She was wringing water out of her mousy brown hair, wincing a bit as she did so. Her wet bangs were still plastered to her forehead, and her clothes clung to her skin, sagging a bit due to the excess water. Her blue eyes blinked as she attempted to get rid of some droplets that was still stuck against her eyelashes, before she used her calloused hands to wipe them off. Mud marks and scratches were also splattered against her legs, perhaps due to her running through the forest grounds, and her cheeks were flushed a rosy pink.

She had never looked more gorgeous.

Perhaps he could work on this another day.

Getting up, he placed his sewing needle and garments onto his chair. He called to her. "Hey Sapph?"

She turned around, and tilted her head to the side. He continued on. "Wanna get out of here?" he asked, gesticulating towards the rain outside.

Her eyes slowly trailed onto his figure, taking note of his clothes, her eyebrows furrowing in confusion as she did so. "Won't your clothes get dirty though?"

He walked past her, purposefully avoiding his umbrella as he grabbed her hand. Her hand was still rather damp, he noted, as she stumbled behind him. He laughed lightly once he turned around and saw her bewildered expression. "One time isn't gonna hurt."

With one last tug (as well as a yelp from Sapphire's end), they were under the rain.

And as his shoes continued to sink into the mud, as his hat flattened itself onto his head, as the heavy drizzle of the rain soaked its way into his skin, the hand that was still attached to his own remained warm. As they danced around together, a part of him wanted to scream to the world that somehow, this amazing, stunning, breathtaking girl was his, and somehow, he was hers as well. To think, there was a time where they had both despised each other, but somehow, fate had decided otherwise. It was like the universe was spinning, their teasing laughs filling the empty void, matching the rhythm of the rain as it pattered onto the leaves, the puddles, the ground.

They probably looked like idiots, two teenagers frolicking around in the forest during a summer storm.

However, as he watched her soft giggles transform into loud guffaws, drenched mousy hair, calloused skin, flushed cheeks and all, he couldn't bring himself to care.

Truly, Ruby mused to himself, he really did love the rain after all.

#franticshipping #pokespe #trainer ruby #Trainer Sapphire

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dustballdrawsartwork · 6 months

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Just some more detailed drawings of mine. Hope you guys like it! :D

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groupalpha · 3 months

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WARNING

This comic contains themes of death, specifically murder. If you are sensitive to such, please skip this comic.

if you wish to proceed, the comic is under the cut

RSbSS: ... Well.. this is what happened. I apologize if this could be disturbing to any of you.

Loading memory from Memory Conflux

Please stand by...

Memory loaded successfully!

TSA,FS: So she has been working well I presume?

LS,TBS: Of course. What about Endless Beyond?

TSA,FS: She's... okay. A bit distracted at her work, but she should get the hang of things soon.

LS,TBS: Perhaps that isn't the best course of action. Endless Beyond should be on task, after all, that's what we've created iterators for. A shutdown seems best, and to rework her code.

TSA,FS: ... Perhaps you are right. I need to dwell on such an idea though. I will consider such options.

LS,TBS: I understand. In my position, I would go through with such actions. She was rather rushed due to the recent creation of the Space Unit. This is quite evident with her... puppets design.

TSA,FS: Her puppet is unfinished due to us not getting the proper materials from Ethos. You know they're rather stubborn, and are quite against Endless Beyond's creation.

LS,TBS: To be blunt with it, her puppet is quite mismatched. It looks like you patched everything together as if it were putting together paper and glue.

TSA,FS: Well, Lost Spirit, Thirty Broken Shards, How about you try to fund Endless Beyond when everyone is against it? I'd certainly enjoy seeing her made with a complete puppet instead of being made up of spare parts.

LS,TBS: I suppose the mismatched puppet and the rushed creation speaks quite loudly on its own. If in your position, I would rethink about being her creator, and abandon a defect.

RSbSS: Take that back.

LS,TBS: Ah, give me just one moment Ten Stars Above, First Supernova.

Excuse me? Ruby Skies by Sapphire Shores, that was not addressed to you.

RSbSS: You can't talk about her like that. She's alive like the rest of us!

LS,TBS: Ruby Skies by Sapphire Shores, you will not raise your voice to your prime administrator, especially over something so trivial.

RSbSS: This isn't a trivial matter. This is a line a basic respect. This is someone who provides information that none of us could obtain otherwise.

LS,TBS: I didn't think I would be having a discussion with you about such, but my stance stays firm. Quite the few of your local group has issues as well, such as the problem with Atlantis. Eight Crashing Tides shouldn't have control over her citizens, and Fifteen Pearls, Setting Ocean Mist is an idiot for allowing such ridiculous ideals.

RSbSS: That doesn't mean anything, and maybe it would be better if you actually heard our wishes out.

LS,TBS: Ruby Skies by Sapphire Shores, you will not suggest such changes. I will not have it.

RSbSS: But-

LS,TBS: Ruby Skies by Sapphire Shores. I said enough of this nonsense. You-

RSbSS: I don't want to show what went down but uh...

RSbSS: it's not something I'm proud of. I... hurt them. They came back but... I shouldn't have done it.

RSbSS: Because of it, I had had my puppet's arms taken away, I was humiliated, and feared by my own ancients. ... I... messed up big time.

Part 1/2

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dustyfandomtrashbin · 5 months

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8 to all for the iterator ask game.

OOOO My first one! :D

8. What is your iterator's opinion on bioengineering? Natural ability of iterators? A cruel push of artificial will? Something to be moderated? etc.

Endless Beyond: She isn't much of a fan of it as she can find it cruel if done incorrectly. Certain scenarios can be okay, but overall, she'd prefer the animals to be left alone. Even more after her meeting with Amalgamation.

Thirteen Elder Stories: He's relatively okay with it and sometimes encourages it as long as it's not done in a cruel way and the animal can actually survive.

Eight Crashing Tides: Tides oddly finds it amusing and funny unless something is getting hurt/ it's cruel. She's often watching String, Prism and Ruby's work out of boredom, so she knows it's not all bad.

Ruby Skies by Sapphire Shores: She finds it entertaining as long as it's moderated and the end result isn't cruel. She doesn't enjoy certain processes, but if it's done with care, it can be relatively fun. It's not fun if the animals get out however.

Extracted Prism Sunsets: Prism isn't that much of a fan of it surprisingly, despite him being an iterator based around it! Prism believes that all animals should be handled with care and upmost respect unless they are causing an active disturbance or harm. He's relatively okay-ish with it as he has done such before, but as long as the animals don't get out into the ecosystem as they would be very invasive.

Last String of Life: String is a fan of it as he often does it himself! The only difference is that String does bioengineering with plants rather than animals. He does enjoy watching how the interactions go between animals and plants alike.

Twelve Far Away Dreams: Dreams is a neutral party to it as she thinks that anything can be good or bad regardless of what it is. She does think that it's natural for iterators to do bioengineering on animals and plants and has even tried herself, but quickly abandoned the idea as she wasn't that invested.

Sunrise Solar Starlight Luner: Neither Solar or Lunar have done bioengineering on animals or plants, but they both find the end results fascinating as there's many patterns to be observed in such modification. Overall, they find it fun and interesting.

#rain world #dust talks

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buckmink · 6 years

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Night Flight

In which Garnet goes for a walk and runs into somebody unexpected.

Garnet emerged from her temple room, careful to step quietly so as not to awaken Steven, whose light snores sounded throughout the house. She couldn’t help but take a moment to stop and smile fondly at him sleeping so peacefully. Lion, who lay atop Steven’s bed next to him, half-opened one eye in a lazed gaze and gave Garnet a small grunt of acknowledgement before rolling over and dozing off again.

With that, Garnet set off outside, gingerly closing the door behind her. Leaning on the balcony facing the ocean, she closed her eyes and took in the cool, salty breeze. It was incredibly refreshing. Upon opening her eyes, she was greeted by the sight of the full moon; its pale yellow glow illuminating the dark indigo sky and the deep blue tide. Against this backdrop, Garnet stepped onto the beach ready to begin a needed night walk to clear her head.

Focusing on the feeling of the sand on her feet and the sounds of the crashing waves against the shore, Garnet headed towards the water. She held her arms out and raised her head unwavering, allowing the sea water to cascade down upon her several times. She stepped back after several minutes, shaking herself dry and regaining composure. Letting the waves descend upon her and wash any physical tension that built up in her body was incredibly cathartic. Therapeutic though it is for her, this particular ritual is one which she did not care to explain to anyone, not even Pearl, Amethyst or Steven. Not that she was ashamed of this particular ritual, it was simply easier for her not to have to explain it to anyone.

Stepping away from the surf, Garnet headed toward the northwest side of the coast around the temple. Treading the sands with a relaxed gait, she casually scanned the beach until she spotted a glowing green fleck in the sand. She crouched down to pick it up and upon inspection it was a piece of the Gem ship that crashed down nearly 2 years ago. She frowned. She thought they had combed the beach free of the debris but it was an inevitability that trace amounts would remain serving as a reminder of the looming threat of Homeworld.

Whoosh!

A sudden gust of wind rushed in behind Garnet nearly sweeping her off her feet and scattering the sand forward in a huge flurry. Looking in every which direction, a bemused and shaken Garnet attempted to discover the source of it. Whatever it was, it was not from the usual atmospheric changes as the skies were calm and the breeze was light. Garnet made sure to pay better attention to her future vision. On nights like these when she went on her walks, she made more of an effort to ignore her future vision in order to relax. However, with a potential threat on the horizon she could not afford to do so this time.

She continued her walk away from the temple keeping her guard up until she came upon some caves carved into the cliffs over time by the wind and the water. She entered one of the caves. Moonlight dappled through the cavern roof openings both big and small illuminating the puddles of water within. In order to get a better look around to ensure she was alone, Garnet lit up the room with the gems on her palms and with a keen eye spotted a shadow of a figure flee into the darkness.

Garnet smirked. Using her power, she could determine that whoever was hiding was no threat to her at the present time, so she picked a dry elevated surface at the mouth of the cave to sit down and chill. Business as usual, though the constant shuffling from the unexpected presence was really ruining the vibe.

"I know you’re there Lapis Lazuli. It’s alright, you can come out,“ Garnet said calmly.

A blue Gem in a dress and a crop top crept out of the darkness slowly approaching Garnet. She let her gaze roam from Garnet who was looking straight ahead to the cave entrance. Her movements betrayed her indecisiveness at wanting to either escape confrontation or stick it out. She chose the latter and settled down next to Garnet.

She greeted her with a simultaneously wary and deadpan “Hey."

"You could have just flown away you know. And yet… you chose to stay and sit here with me.” Garnet remarked, staring into the distance.

Lapis hugged her legs close to her chest. “Yeah, well don’t think it’s because I wanna be all ‘buddy buddy’ with you or anything. I just figured if I didn’t, you’d question me about this later. Might as well get it over with I guess.”

Garnet raised her eyebrows in surprise. “Heh, the Lapis I’m familiar with would try to avoid this exact situation.”

"Ha! You’re one to talk Ms. I-can’t-let-anyone-see-my-weaknesses-so-I-use-isolating-coping-mechanisms-to-deal-with-my-stress. At least, I’m taking baby steps,” Lapis snapped wryly.

She continued speaking after a short bout of silence, cocking her head towards Garnet. "Bet you’re wondering how I know all this right? Well, being trapped in a mirror, you get to see and hear everything within earshot and viewing distance of those using you whether you want to know about it or not."

At this, Garnet stared down shifting uncomfortably but turned her head back towards Lapis as she continued. "Let’s just say that in between your numerous sessions of using me to admire yourself, I’ve heard you say things about expressing doubt about your capabilities of being a leader and living up to uh… her… uh Rose Quartz’s legacy as one too.”

"Ah, I see.“ remarked Garnet.

"Heh,” Lapis bitterly chuckled. “Do you? Do you see?! You and the others used me without a second thought and that’s all you have to say to is ‘I see?!’”

"I-I’m sorry…” Garnet said, remorse echoing in her voice.

Lapis turned her head towards her, making an effort to look at her. “Hmph. Better late than never I guess. Well, uh I’m sorry too.” She gestured twirling her hands vaguely. “Y'know, about everything that I did to you guys like stealing the ocean and losing control with the whole Malachite situation and stuff.”

Her chest heaved as she sighed deeply. “And everything else I’ve done too. Jasper… Peridot… you all… I’ve hurt a lot of people. I don’t expect forgiveness, but it feels good to actually get the chance to really apologize to someone I’ve hurt. I-I’m sorry I snapped at you like that. It’s just… you know still hard… living with those memories and not having them be acknowledged by those who hurt you. It just felt dismissive, y'know?”

Garnet reached out her hand to put a reassuring hand on Lapis’ shoulder reflexively, but pulled away when she thought better of it considering the still delicate state of their relationship. Things were finally going in a positive direction and she didn’t want to ruin it, so she decided to proceed carefully with her words. She removed her shades revealing soulful, apologetic eyes, looking at Lapis as she spoke.

"I understand. I-I’m glad that I’m getting the chance to apologize to you too. You know… even as a Fusion formed from two very different types of Gems, I, as well as Ruby and Sapphire, still have internalized a lot of Homeworld’s toxic societal influences. To deny someone their autonomy and put them in an object and use them without a second thought… Even though I didn’t put you in the mirror, I-I’m deeply ashamed that I was complicit in using you like that. I emphasize consent when it comes to fusion, but when it came to your situation I…“

Her eyes welled with tears, but she quickly brushed them away. "I… didn’t give it a second thought, but… I should have."

She gave a heavy sigh. "We all have things to unlearn and we all have to take responsibility for the things we’ve done that have hurt others. I’m glad that you’re starting to do that and I hope I can continue to do the same. Again, I’m sorry."

A somber silence followed as Lapis and Garnet both stared at each other, the only sounds in the cavern being water droplets falling from the stalactites into the shallow pools and the roar of the waves echoing on the inside. Lapis was the one to break the tension. She stood up and took a few steps towards the cave entrance and turned around to face her, rubbing her shoulder bashfully.

"Hey, uh thanks… for keepin it real with me. I’m gonna leave now but I was thinking that, you know since I kinda barged in on your destress sesh and all that I could make it up to you by taking you on a night flight with me. That’s how I destress. Maybe you might like it too."

Garnet was taken aback. "I’m appreciative of the offer, but I’m very surprised you want to do this considering everything."

"Truthfully, I don’t really know what’s come over me right now either. I just wanna try to move forward now that we’ve actually talked about it and this is my way of doing it,” Lapis shrugged.

"Well… alright. I’ll take you up on it!”

Lapis approached Garnet and scooped her up now cradling her in her arms. It felt a bit strange for Lapis at first all things considered but she was determined to see this through.

"Alright keep your arms and legs inward while in the air. We’re about to take off,“ ordered Lapis as she materialized her wings and prepared for takeoff.

With a massive beat of both wings, Lapis and Garnet shot up into the air above the beach and set off disappearing into the clouds. Garnet didn’t know where Lapis was taking her but she didn’t care to ask. She just wanted to enjoy the ride. Also, she never asked questions. Ever. It was just her way.

The scenery below changed gradually as they flew further from temple and Beach City. Sandy beach transitioned to lush forest which in turn transitioned to green countryside. Though she was enjoying herself immensely and wanted to continue further, Garnet knew that she needed to return before dawn and so told Lapis who turned around back towards the temple.

Garnet felt Lapis shift her arms a few times adjusting her position in her arms. It was evident that she was getting tired.

"Don’t drop me now!” Garnet remarked playfully.

A small smirk crept across Lapis’ face and a few seconds later Garnet found herself in the water.

"Woops!“

She disappeared beneath the depths for a few moments and reemerged finding the blue gem playfully flying circles around her with a shiteating grin on her face. Garnet simply shook her head at her.

Lapis stopped in front of her and shrugged tauntingly. "What? You said not to drop you 'now’ so I dropped you a few seconds later!"

"Having future vision, I really should have seen that coming. Good thing I’m a really good swimmer,” Garnet commented dryly, turning her face to one side in an effort to hide a grin.

"Heh, sorry had to take the opportunity to have a bit of fun with you!“ Lapis said crossing her arms casually.

"Eh, it was pretty funny. You have a good sense of humor Lapis!"

"Pssh!” Lapis scoffed trying to hide a blush.

"Heh,“ Garnet chuckled.

Lapis scooped Garnet up from the water and they continued their flight in silence. When they reached the beach, Lapis dropped off Garnet in front of the sea cave from where they had taken off.

"I’m glad we ran into each other tonight Lapis,” Garnet smiled.

"Yeah, same,“ Lapis replied, sheepishly rubbing the back of her head.

"You know…” she continued after a pause. “If we ever run into each other like this again, I could take you flying around again or whatever.”

Garnet smiled at her. “I’d like that.“

A long pause followed thereafter until Lapis broke it once again with an unintentionally abrupt:

"Well, uh goodnight!” And flew away into the night.

"Goodnight Lapis!“ Garnet shouted after her waving goodbye. Lapis looked over her shoulder and waved back.

From that night thereafter, they both made arrangements to meet each other every so often to have conversations that they felt they couldn’t have with anyone else. There were other times when there would be a comfortable silence between them, both enjoying whatever the night had to offer wherever they decided to go or stay.

EDIT (8/21/18): Fixed some awkward wording.

#steven universe #su garnet #su lapis lazuli #lapinet #su fanfic #my writing

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loveinpanem-blog · 7 years

Text

Dandelion in Darkness

by titaniasfics

Banner by the amazing @akai-echo

Summary: Katniss is the Queen of the Underworld. Equal in power to the Goddesses of Lightning and the Sea, she chooses a life of solitude in her dark kingdom. That is, until she meets Peeta, son of Demetros, the Earth God. She cannot help but love the young god and would possess him at all costs. But what consequences will her choice have on the world?

Retelling of the Persephone/Hades myth. Hades!Katniss and Persephone!Peeta.

A story in three acts.

Personae Dramatis:

Katniss Everdeen - Hades/Pluto/Queen of the Dead

Gale - Thanatos

Madge - Hermes

Prim - Apollo

Mags - Seer

Mr. Mellark - Demetros

Peeta Mellark - Persephone/Proserpina

Haymitch - Aphrodite

Effie - Cupid

Johanna - Ares

Wiress - Hephaestus

Paylor - Zeus

Annie - Poseidon

Finnick - Amphitrite

Thresh - Artemis

Rue - Gaia

Beetee - Cyclops (Forged Katniss’s Helmet)

Brutus -Charon

Chaff -Herdsman of Asphodel Fields, Keeper of Katniss’s horses

Plutarch, Caesar and Crane - Moirai/Fates

Ennobaria, Glimmer and Cashmere -Furies

Buttercup - Cerberus

Prologue:

It began with the wind.

Icy and bitter, it swept across Panem in furious gales. Trees bent before it and man-made objects struggled to remain rooted to the ground. People who ventured beyond their homes saw their skin redden and crack as they leaned against it. They had never experienced a cold so cruel and scrambled to find warmth and shelter. In a land where the weather expressed itself in the mildest way, the sudden harshness of this new season was met with horror and confusion.

After the wind came the snow. Though beautiful to the eyes of the citizens of Panem, it brought its own complications - frozen rivers and streams, slippery streets, dead crops and animals. When the land of Panem was covered in ice, the hunger followed soon after, and the lamentations could be heard atop the Capitol itself. People suffered as the earth grew colder and harder. Around them, life receded, overwhelmed by the power of death. They began to tell stories of a world that would end in ice.

The people clamored to the gods for relief. Why were they being punished? Why were the gods angry? Oracles and seers were consulted all over Panem, now desperate at the prospect of their own demise.

Every person touched by the gods in the land of Panem returned with the same response. Demetros’s son had vanished and now he wandered the world, searching for him. As he hunted for the daemon who had robbed him of his youngest, he withheld the life force that would nourish the earth and the people of Panem languished in consequence. He had vowed that until his son had been returned to him, winter would reign eternal in the land of the living.

Act I:

Death of a Seer.

She wore the war armor of her divine office.

Sleek, shiny leather covered her entire body, made of the hide of the immortal herds that roamed the Asphodel Fields, in the care of Chaff, the herdsman of the gods. Her booted feet could cause the earth to tremble with each step but she took care to step lightly and to mask her presence when she took her rare excursions to the Overworld. Her helmet was forged by the great Beetee as part of her suit of armor during the war against the defeated Titan Lord, Cornelius. It granted her invisibility, provoked fear in her enemies and made physical the awesome might of her power.

She made her way through the dark chambers of her innermost lair, hidden deep beneath the bowels of the earth, where the boiling core made rock and metal turn to rivers of lava. In the upper levels of her palace, raw diamonds, rubies, onyxes and emeralds studded the walls and ceilings. She paused in her weapons chamber and picked up the heavy, gold scepter, with which she commanded the earth to split open before her, and continued her stately walk until she left her habitation behind. Crossing beyond the bands of eternal night that hid the long entrance of Tartarus, she reach the Gates of her estate which were guarded by Gale, the incarnation of death.

“Chaff has prepared your horses,” he said solemnly, face dark and inscrutable as her own.

She nodded in acknowledgement as they strode together across the great pomegranate orchard to reach the stables. The Underworld was a silent place, even for those who had life enough to speak. Those who were divinely decreed to live beyond the mortal world moved beneath skies that were not dotted with clouds or the vibrant fire of Primrose’s chariot riding from east to west. Instead, as far as the eye could see, the world was suffused with the vapors of the seething core, where the very physiognomy of the earth was decided from the shifting and collision of the earth’s tectonic plates. The deepest channels of mineralized water flowed just beyond them, feeding the spring from which Oceanus originated - the ocean at the edge of existence. She found a melancholy pleasure in observing the deep browns, reds, and greys of her kingdom. It did not contain the vibrant colors of the living world but possessed another kind of beauty altogether.

“It is uncommon for the Queen of the Dead herself to accompany a soul to the Underworld. She must have been a great Seer,” Gale probed.

“Prim asked that I attend. I cannot deny my sister. And it’s been many months since I’ve seen her.”

“It is rare for the light of her chariot to penetrate into this dark place,” he answered and said no more. He did not help her on to her gleaming, golden chariot - her step barely touched the ground, and she did not expect such deference. Despite her distance from the living world, she was well known for being the most humane of the gods.

She fixed her helmet over her head and stared out at the broad backs and wide shoulders of her four immortal steeds. They were the color of the deepest black, reflecting no light and bearing no blemish. Taller by half than even Gale, who had one of the most imposing statures of all the gods, they wore manes of silky ebony that flowed like a trail of black fire behind them when they took to the skies. Beyond them lay the shores of Oceanus, the sea that separated her from the living world. Picking up her reins, she clicked her tongue at the four giant steeds, stirring them to life.

Nodding at Gale, who now stared transfixed at the horses, she snapped her whip, rousing them into motion accompanied by an uncoordinated chorus of neighs. She lurched in her chariot as they pulled her forward. Gathering speed, they hurtled toward a cliff overlooking the gentle waves of Oceanus. The dim light of a distant sun, the light of her sister, brightened between the walls of the chasm that opened to allow her passage to the Overworld. The rush of wind lifted the braid that held her hair, long and black as the Six Nights of Tartarus. The explosion of speed was one of the very few things that made her blood quicken and soon, she was whooping with undignified excitement. What did it matter - with her helmet in place, there was no one to see her.

The Babylonians knew her as Ereshkigal, the Aztecs called her Mictecacihuatl. The Japanese prayed to Izanami and the Greeks feared Hades.

But to the people of Panem, she was Katniss, Queen of the Dead and Guardian of the Underworld.

XXXXX

With helmet firmly in place, Katniss set down outside of a village, near the Sun Temple built in honor of her sister Prim, who was sometimes called Helios or the divine sun. This moniker was a mistake, of course, for it was her chariot who bore that name. But those who worshipped her often ignored the distinction. As if Katniss’s thoughts had summoned her, the lovely girl appeared in her resplendent glory, golden hair and skin gleaming with the muted light that she brought to the world when she rode across the sky.

“Does your chariot ride alone today?” Katniss asked, shedding her garments as she walked in exchange for a soft, black chiton, cinched at the waist with a belt studded with emeralds and sapphires. She reveled in the warmth of her sister, all goodness and beauty, blazing like a star in her arms as they held each other in greeting.

“Helios is a living thing, like your horses. She is my constant companion and knows the path I take across the sky,” Prim answered.

Katniss felt a powerful pang of jealousy. She preferred no one’s company over that of her sister’s but, because of their responsibilities, they were often separated. That she should share time with anyone else in any kind of intimacy stimulated all of Katniss’s less tender feelings.

“Pity Helios is not here now, to give you her much desired company.”

Prim laughed, her light-blue eyes blazing with humor and understanding. “Do not worry, dark sister. You are always my favorite, even though you are a most frightful creature.”

Katniss felt her humor soften. “You must never be afraid of me.”

Prim leaned in to Katniss, dropping her voice to a whisper. “I can never be afraid of you!”

Katniss shook her head, allowing herself a small smile - for there was no one in the world who could provoke her gentler spirit except her sister.

“How may I serve you?” Katniss asked at length.

Prim became more serious. “One month ago, the great Seer, Mags, fell ill. She was a most devoted servant and those gifted in my arts have struggled in vain to heal her.”

“So you said. You esteem her so greatly?”

Prim nodded. “I do. But she will soon depart. It is the sad fate of all mortals ---”

“You tried to cure her despite everything,” Katniss concluded.

“I did, but the Moirai will not be defied. Her thread has been cut. I wish only for a peaceful passing. I know this is more of a task for Gale or even Madge but---”

Katniss sighed. “But you want her to have the honor of being escorted by me.”

Prim smiled. “Yes! I know you will not let her shadow become lost. Nor will you allow the judges to slight her in the least. She is a good woman, for this she is well known.”

Katniss placed a hand over her sister’s. “Do not fear. I will end her suffering and take her directly to the Elysian Fields, as you have asked.”

Prim squeezed her hand. “Thank you, dearest one.”

Pressing her hand in return, Katniss turned towards the bleached, white building that stood in glory to the Goddess of the Sun. Katniss stepped inside, following the smell of the mortal’s decaying lifebreath. She passed marble statues, rendering her sister in different poses - remarkable likenesses that made Katniss pause, if only for an instant, to admire their detail. The hand that had sculpted these figures had been touched by the Muses.

She finally entered a darkened room, where an old woman reclined on a simple mat. Long grey hair lay tousled about her, her skin deeply lined. Her eyes were rested closed against jowly cheeks. Upon Katniss’s arrival, though, her eyes fluttered open and she stared at Katniss without fear or surprise.

“Great...Goddess,” she said slowly, with the exhaustion that comes from fighting against Death itself. “Queen of the Underworld...of wealth...and of...secret...places...”

Some mortals were uncommonly gifted in the perception of the gods in their lives. These were the ones who became poets and priests, seers and wise people. And Mags was one of the greatest. “Shhhh…” Katniss said gently. “Your troubles are at an end.”

“Will you be gentle?” Mags asked, looking suddenly so very small beneath her. Katniss never forgot how fragile and ephemeral humans were. These creatures, who built temples and worshiped the immortals, were just as necessary to the gods’ existence as the gods were to theirs. It was a fact gods too often forgot.

“It will be but as a breeze over the sea,” Katniss whispered. “You will not suffer.”

“Thank you,” Mags answered before she took one long, last breath. Katniss brushed her fingers over her sternum. The skin of her hands darkened to her elbows as she called forth her supernatural power. A strong wind blew in through the opening in the room. Slowly, with a delicacy no one would believe she possessed, Katniss drew Mags’s shadow from her chest. As she stepped from her body, Mags’s aspect became sharper, more defined until the spirit Katniss drew forth became, in appearance, the woman who now lay still on the mat.

Staring at the shadow was like gazing into a star studded night. A constellation of lights dotted the darkness, each pin prick representing a good deed or a kindness bestowed on another. Some souls were bereft of those diamond-like eruptions; others, like Mags, were covered in their goodness like a bride adorned in riches for her groom. Katniss felt remarkably comforted by the evident purity of the seer’s soul and knew there would be no question where she would spend her eternity.

“Come,” Katniss said gently, beckoning to the shadow to follow. Without hesitation, Mags floated beside her mistress, taking one last glance at her mortal shell before leaving the room, and the temple, forever.

Katniss arrived to where her sister stood. The shadow, now rendered nearly translucent in sunlight, shimmered in excitement at the sight of the goddess she had served for so long. Mags dropped to her knees before Prim, hands together in supplication.

“Rise, my servant,” Prim said in a voice that sounded to mortal ears like the melodies of all the music that ever was or ever could be composed. “You have served me well. My sister will care for you, with the same kindness you have shown all who have come to pay homage at my temple.”

“Oh, great Goddess!” Mags said, rising to her feet. Even in death, her eyes were wide with awe.

Katniss stepped away from Mags and Prim to take in her surroundings - the preparations for the funeral were underway - novices under the Seer were tearful as they went about their duties. Katniss was invisible to them as to all mortals. She made sure of it. But as she observed the activities of the humans around her, she felt the eyes of another, studying her, as if etching her into clay or stone. In her eagerness to see Prim, she had largely ignored the presence of anyone else. The shadow of Mags now floated beside her, waiting patiently for the escort that would take her to Elysium and to her eternal peace.

Above the hillock, surveying his dominion, was Demetros. A giant of a god, with gold hair and pale skin that blazed in a way that Prim’s chariot did not, though they were both life incarnate. Hers was the power of pure energy, of origins and creations, of the sun that gave to all without discrimination. His was the power of living things - green, fecund, full of birth but also of the decay that fed life in an endless cycle of existence and non-existence.

He was a fastidious deity and took great pains to care for the kingdom that had been entrusted to him since the days of the Titanomachy. His dominion stretched from the deepest roots of the most ancient trees to the tips of eagle’s wings that soared beneath the foot of the Capitol itself. Every creature that drew its sustenance from the earth was under his protection and it was his power that fueled life. He existed in necessary symbiosis with Katniss - for he was Life and she was Death and one could not exist without the other.

However, it was not Demetros who captivated her attention, but the youth who stood beside him. Demetros was famously jealous of his children and hid them even from the eyes of other gods so that Katniss did not recognize this young being at his side. And a god he was, most likely a son, for he possessed the same golden color. He quivered with the same power as Demetros, carried the same powerful build. His eyes had stolen blue from Prim’s firmament and were of a color that was dazzling even from the distance where she stood. He stared in her direction with none of the fear with which she was usually greeted, but with open curiosity, as if he could not fathom what exactly he was looking at.

But there was an impunity, even a challenge, in his now roving eyes. She fit her helmet onto her head, which appeared to startle him. This was no surprise, for from his perspective, she would have simply vanished before his eyes. He scanned the place where she stood, and the company of people milling about the burial site. She was sure he was searching for her but he would not see her unless she willed it.

The shadow at her side shifted, catching her attention.

“What say you, Seer?” Katniss asked, unable to keep the impatience from her voice. She continued to contemplate the young man, and resented even the smallest distraction from this pursuit.

“Fate, my queen,” Mags said in a voice that, to the ears of a mortal, would have sounded like nothing more than the beating of a sparrow’s wing.

“I have no time for riddles, human.”

“Fate,” she repeated. “The Moirai have made their decision. Your fate is now tied to the world. Soon Winter will come and the living world will cry out in lamentation until Spring is restored.”

Katniss pursed her lips in displeasure. She took great pains to stay out of the affairs of humans, exercising her dominion in her own kingdom and excusing herself from the happenings of the Capitol. She cared very little for the petty jealousies, affairs and vendettas of her fellow deities.

“You’re mistaken. I have nothing to do with these things you call Spring and Winter. Come.” She made herself visible to Prim, nodding towards her sister, who looked at her with a longing that made Katniss’s cold heart glow warm and aching. Katniss desired only the solitude of her kingdom, to be insulated from such unfamiliar and powerful sensations. She withdrew from the now dispersed company but not before she cast a last glance at the young man, who scanned the horizon beyond her. Katniss had a fleeting thought, that she had not seen such beauty since the dawn of her existence.

Resolutely she turned on her heel and led the shade back to her chariot where they would escape with all haste back to her dark kingdom, to the safety of a world without shining gods.

XXXXX

Katniss brought Mags to the gates of the Elysian fields, where she watched as the spirit melted into the Isles of the Blessed with the other worthy spirits of the afterlife. This special place was reserved for those who had been reincarnated three times, living virtuously each time. Katniss regretted her distemper towards Mags earlier and was extra gentle with her until she’d been released.

As Katniss turned away from the gates of paradise, she caught sight of Madge flying on her winged sandals, speeding above her, perhaps returning from escorting souls to the underworld or, most likely, from visiting with Gale, as was her habit when she ventured below.

Katniss smoothed out the folds of her chiton before wandering into her beloved pomegranate orchid and plucked the ripe fruit from the ancient trees. With a tap of her finger, the fruit split open, revealing seeds the color of blood. Katniss ate them, reveling in the incomparable flavor of their sweet juice and thought about the young man she’d seen earlier. Her chest palpitated with an expectation that was entirely new, provoking a strange desire to lose herself in a field of flowers beneath the warmth of her sister’s chariot.

Uncomfortable with these sudden fantasies of flowers and fields, she plunged into the business of rulership, consulting with the three judges when there was confusion over sentencing a shade, though the complications were normally too few to warrant close attention. She toured her kingdom, beginning with the seven rivers of Hades. She visited the river Styx, which circled the Underworld seven times, coiled like a serpent around her dominions. She walked the banks of Acheron, seeking out the silent Ferryman, Brutus, who stared out from beneath lidded eyes, made immune to the pain the river could inflict with a continuous supply of ambrosia and gold coins.

On Katniss’s side of the river was the actual entrance of her dominion, where the ferocious, three-headed creature she’d fondly named Buttercup stood guard. With mangy, orange-striped fur, glowing eyes the color of burning coal and a snarl that made shivers run up Katniss’s spine, it nonetheless whined whenever Prim threaded her fingers through its matted fur.

Katniss was careful not to touch the waters of the next river, Lethe, for it promised forgetfulness to all who drank from it. It encircled the Isles of the Blessed, where the truly virtuous like Mags achieved eternal rest. From the burning banks of Phlegethon, she was sure she could hear the rage of the Titans erupting from the near infinite depths of Tartarus, only to be drowned out by the even more chilling noise of Cocytus, the river of wailing. It was with some relief that she reached Oceanus, beyond which lay the permeable boundary between the living and the dead. Though she was in a place beyond earth, beyond its boiling center and unrelenting rock, when she commanded the earth to open, she could just make out her sister’s Sun Chariot casting its brilliant rays deep into the most obscure bowels of Hades.

She passed the Asphodel Fields, where most of the dead ended up. Having lived unremarkable lives, they watched Katniss with empty eyes as she passed, the oldest souls being the most impassive. How many times had they watched their mistress in her travels between the fields of Hades?

Katniss hurried past the Mourning Fields - where those with unrequited love ended. It was telling that there was a special place for this particular type of suffering, of all the myriad of suffering humans endured. She wondered what it was like - to love and ache so terribly that it was enough to define your existence for all of eternity. She could only imagine it, for she had never desired someone in such a way and would have scoffed at the idea of it altogether, were it not for the clear evidence of its power in the human and supernatural world.

Her mind betrayed her at that point and flew to the son of Demetros. Men like him could send countless women to the Mourning Fields. She still marveled in her memory at the extraordinary beauty of the young man - the way the very hairs on his head appeared alive with his life-giving energy, the large, sensuous build of his hands, veins and muscles undulating in the perfection of his form. Gods were always beautiful, with perhaps the exception of Wiress, who toiled in the merciless heat of her forge and had been cursed with deformities at her very creation. And yet even she possessed a power that captivated. She was not without her own aesthetic.

But Demetros’s son was another creature altogether. He was not brooding, like Gale. He did not have the accidental perfection of Finnick, Annie’s consort. Yet he possessed the kind of face that she could easily stare at for an eon.

Katniss shook herself of her silly thoughts and set out towards her palace - a place of austere beauty that she hoped would sooth her thoughts. But her restlessness continued for many days, her thoughts compulsively returning to the young man.

XXXXX

A strange and unknown desire began to grow in Katniss.

She had to see the young man again.

She avoided this desire at every turn, seeking some other relief from that impulse. Anything would do - she even rode her chariot to the Capitol itself to visit her sister, who had long taken up her place at the side of Paylor, the Goddess of Lightning.

The Capitol was everything the mortal world was not - opulent, radiant, and lavish in its comforts. It floated above the clouds, impervious to attack, by Paylor’s design, and all gods were invited to take residence there - a move that concentrated the power of the Earth and Air deities in the Capitol. But Katniss, like Annie, the third Goddess of the Great Triumvirate and Queen of the Sea, was not without her own power.

As she strode down the gilded halls, Katniss had the misfortune of encountering Haymitch, the God of Love, lounging in the dining hall.

“Haymitch,” she growled in greeting.

A slow smirk spread over his dark features. Though renowned for his virility and his facility with the amorous arts, he was also prone to bouts of profound laziness. He lay sprawled across a settee, appearing to be in a state of half sleep. A tray of fruit and a flagon of drink sat on a table beside him. “Katniss! You’ve left your cave and now do grace us with your invigorating company. Tell me, how do you spend all your time in such a dreary place?”

“It suits me fine,” she retorted.

“You do not give me enough to do, Goddess. Perhaps you would like to borrow Effie’s arrows and make your life more interesting,” he teased, waving a goblet of ambrosia as he spoke.

“My life is interesting enough.”

“Oh, come now, Goddess! A sturdy ‘shaft’ would be just the thing to rid you of your distemper!”

Katniss huffed at his vulgarity, scowling fiercely, but her indignation only stimulated his laughter even more.

“Where is my sister?” she said, gritting her teeth together before she was tempted to resort to violence to cure his humor.

Haymitch reclined, resting a hand over his forehead as if he’d been suddenly afflicted by a headache. “Of all the gods, she is the easiest to find. Or have your senses been dulled by your time in that dark realm?”

Katniss whirled on her heel and marched out of the chamber to the sound of Haymitch’s laughter pursuing her. It was a fine reminder of why she chose to stay as far away from the Capitol as possible.

XXXXX

She sought solace in her work and the management of her kingdom, spending time in the Hall of Judgement, listening to the more complex cases of lives lived at the border of virtue and infamy and examining the details with even more attention than necessary, all in an effort to distract herself from her obsession.

One day, however, when she thought something fundamental might break within her, she found herself inside the confines of her dark chariot, staring down the backs of her mighty steeds. She closed her eyes and envisioned the young man, searching the world for him until she discovered him in a meadow, in the company of two young men. Without further consideration, she took to the Overworld, breaking the confines of Oceanus, ordering the earth to part and penetrating the last dark clouds that blocked the light of her own sister’s chariot.

The meadow rose silently around her - covered in wildflowers of every color. As she set her horses under a copse, Katniss secretly admitted her love of the glorious, colorful blooms before her, the crisp smell of air under the newly risen sun filling her every sense. It would surprise gods and men alike to know how very much she admired the world above her kingdom, perhaps more than any other gods, for she had the eyes to see it anew each time she left the Underworld. She had seen fields in her life - Elysium had no rival in all the mortal and immortal realms. But this one reeked of authenticity - death vying for life among even the smallest blades of grass. Here life struggled, and won, each and every time, and despite her immortal office, this victory thrilled her.

She approached the young man, now wrestling in the tall grasses with two other youth of his stature and coloring - most likely, the other sons of Demetros. They were all fine youth - tall and strong, though the boy who held her interest was of a medium build with respect to his siblings. His face was less angular, perhaps because of his youth or in consequence of a gentler nature that revealed itself in the powerful but muted lines of his physique. He had a cleft chin, the perfect size for a fingertip to rest in. His eyes, now squeezed shut in concentration as he attempted to pin his brother, opened, revealing that unearthly color that had so captivated her the very first day.

She was undetectable as long as she willed it. Still, she held her breath, watching the boys, their skin increasingly slick with sweat and muscles bulging with exertion, until the young man managed to pin down the larger one while a third counted to three. They lept up, helping each other to their feet, the largest boy clapping the younger one on the back. She inched closer to hear their conversation.

“I want a rematch!” the tall boy said, guffawing as he wiped his brow.

“Not today. I’ll be needing my rest after such an arduous contest,” the blue-eyed one answered.

“Nonsense, Peeta!” the third boy exclaimed. “Our brother was hardly a worthy opponent!

“Insolent boy!” the oldest responded. It was Peeta’s turn to laugh as he watched the two boys tackle one another, both rolling in the most undignified way on the ground.

“When elephants fight, it is only the grass who suffers!” Peeta exclaimed between guffaws of laughter, provoking an involuntary smile from Katniss. Without her volition, she had inched closer and now watched the scene from only a few meters away. The two boys continued to grapple until sheer exhaustion caused them to collapse. They finally gathered their cast-aside clothing, and with good-natured satisfaction, walked together, chattering happily between them. Katniss was disappointed - she wanted more interaction, more reasons to smile at them. But they wandered away to a place she could not rightly follow, for they now entered the sacred woods of their father, and gods were impervious in their own palaces. Their departure left her suddenly empty and alone.

She returned to the glade they had only just played in, noting the crushed grass springing slowly back to life. In fact, each thing the boys had touched had not been bruised by the contact but invigorated, turning into a deeper shade of its original color, its fragrance becoming bolder and more vibrant in the air. It was the way of the earth gods to make life sing from their mere touch. She looked down at her gloved hand, thinking how different her power was, how it drained and chilled instead of quickening and reviving, and the idea of it saddened her.

XXXXX

She returned to that spot each day, not unlike a sunflower, following the perambulations of the sun. The one she heard named Peeta did not come each time - certainly, his father had chores for the young god that took him throughout his dominion. She discovered that this field was a preferred place for him, his brothers and the groups of forest sprites and spirits who gravitated toward them, seeking their own kind of diversion. And Katniss, after she had fulfilled her duties to her dark kingdom, spent hours watching the object of her interest. She followed him wherever she could - through the vales and hills of his father’s domain.

She learned much about Peeta through her spying. He was a curious soul, studying the creatures under his care with great interest, not unlike the way she studied him. He kept no company with other gods - she knew this was by Demetros’s decree, who wanted his sons to have nothing to do with Paylor and her heavenly lot. But he did frequent lesser spirits, and the nymphs and naiads of the forest knew his name.

There was so much more to the young man than his appearance. Katniss watched him accompany his father on his duties. They flew over mountains and rivers, surveying the world of the living in all its glory until they arrived in a small mountain village, cut off from the rest of Panem by a mountain range and the nearly unscalable granite walls. Mortals could arrive only by an obscure, winding road up the sloped side of the mountain.

Katniss settled a distance away to avoid discovery by Demetros and watched as Peeta, who followed his father on his survey of the natural world around the settlement, suddenly pulled away.

“Don’t you hear that?” Peeta asked, following a sound that Katniss herself had trouble hearing.

Demetros became visibly impatient with Peeta. “Humans call to us all the time. Come, we have other places to be---”

But Peeta paid his father no heed as he followed whatever had caught his attention. It soon became apparent that Peeta had heard a plea for his father’s intervention and chosen to follow it. The call for his assistance came from a small hut at the edge of the village, where a widow lived, surrounded by a gaggle of small children. She begged for the bounty of a garden that seemed to struggle in the harsh mountain environment. A small bird of offering was aflame, its smoke having carried her request on the winds and directly to Peeta.

When he arrived, he did not ask permission of his father but answered the supplication of the widow whose garden was so barren with a touch of his hand that guaranteed her bounty for years to come. Though the prayers had been for Demetros, her plea had moved Peeta and he responded with a compassion that was becoming increasingly rare with the gods in the Capitol.

“Are we not tasked to help those who call on us, father?” Peeta asked. Katniss did not miss the hard edge of his voice and neither did his father. Demetros face flared with barely-suppressed rage.

“I will not brook your insolence,” Demetros said in a low voice intended to cower the young man. Peeta, however, only gazed back at the older man, the silent contest between the two ending only when a wild boar burst through the underbrush, to the ecstatic joy of the widow who promptly chased it down. Demetros turned away without a word. As Peeta’s eyes followed him, a smirk of satisfaction lit up his handsome face.

These gestures of benevolence were repeated numerous times during her period of observation and it compelled Katniss to watch him even more. But together with this kindness, Peeta possessed something else, something indomitable that would not submit even before the will of his father. He was also the same young man who, in the meadow, was playful, even childish with his brothers, bringing a measure of humor and joy to Katniss’s heart, bereft as she was from such light-heartedness in her own kingdom.

In all his contradictions, he was everything that a deity of life and of the earth should be, and she began to grow very fond of him.

XXXXX

Some time afterwards, as Katniss emerged from the Hall of Judgement, Madge, the messenger of the gods and erstwhile escort of the dead, settled down before her. She was a tall girl with long, golden locks. Unfurled, her wings were nearly too long for her legs and were of the same color as her hair. They were attached to her ankles, so that as she stepped onto the ground, the wings folded in on themselves, curling around her calves as if they were part of the sandals she wore. Her face was flushed, her lips tender and swollen. Katniss chuckled as her friend fell into step next to her.

“You have the look of Death about you,” Katniss teased.

“There is no way to avoid it in this place,” Madge parried, smirking all the while.

“It or him, dear one?” Katniss continued.

Madge stretched in exaggeration, smoothing back her slightly tousled hair. “You know all my secrets. And I know yours.”

“I have no secrets. And the ones that I do have, everyone appears to know them before I do myself.”

“In this, you speak true. You pine,” Madge said.

“I do not!”

“Haymitch is never mistaken. On your last visit to Prim, he said you fairly reeked of longing. He is an expert, you know!”

Katniss pursed her lips, feeling the scowl overtaking her face. Madge laughed at the fierce look, which displeased Katniss even more.

“You would not be the first god to become infatuated. You act as if it is not possible for you.”

“I tire of this conversation,” Katniss retorted.

“But you do have a challenge,” Madge continued, as if Katniss had not spoken. “The young man’s father is powerful and uncommonly possessive. He will not part with his children under any circumstances.”

Katniss felt the color drain from her face but bit her lip to keep from exposing herself. “I do not know what you speak of.”

“Peeta! Demetros’s son. You visit the Earth God’s kingdom nearly each day to watch the young man.”

Katniss said nothing, her pale face now aflame. She felt the heat rising in waves over her skin.

“If you petition Paylor, she will grant him to you. You have already been promised a son of Demetros if you so choose to exercise your right of claim over him.”

Katniss groaned, remembering the promise made to her so long ago by Paylor, a reward after the battle and victory over the Titans. It was a promise she never expected to see exacted. “By force? It is not my way. I will not ‘claim’ anyone.”

Madge made an exasperated sound before her face slowly changed, a mischievous expression dancing on her fine features. “You do not deny your infatuation, then?”

“Leave me be,” Katniss said impatiently. “I am not one to become infatuated.”

“Then perhaps you...love Demetros’s son?”

Katniss froze in her steps, turning to her friend in barely repressed anger. “Do not trifle with me. And take this warning back to Haymitch, for I smell his interference in your words. I am Death to mortals. I have not yet tested myself against immortals, but I will not hesitate to begin with him.”

Madge’s eyes widened, then narrowed, a smile flitting hesitantly at the corner of her mouth. Madge was the only other person besides her sister with whom Katniss shared the greatest affinity but Katniss could be intimidating in her rage, even to those close to her. “He is only exercising the requirements of his office. He is, after all, responsible for all matters of the heart.”

Katniss struggled to calm her anger. “You are right. But I want no one interfering. Each and every time the Capitol becomes involved in the affairs of...anyone, it only results in disaster. Please make that clear to them. No interference of any kind.”

Madge nodded, more serious than before. “You are Paylor of the Underworld.”

Katniss tilted her head, raising an eyebrow. “Or perhaps Paylor is Katniss of the Capitol.”

XXXXX

Madge’s conversation drove Katniss into reclusion, unwilling as she was to expose herself to the gods. However, her resolve was weak and soon, she tired of missing Peeta. She took extra pains when she finally set out to watch him, leaving her chariot and donning her invisibility helmet. She materialized in his preferred meadow when she was sure he would appear and soon observed his arrival, carrying an object she instantly recognized as an easel. It was larger than one any human could carry, but he set it down with ease. Next to it, Peeta placed a wooden box, within which were the accoutrements of his hobby - paint brushes, paint, strips of cloth and water.

Katniss let out a sigh at the sight of him, relief and euphoria warring within her. She watched him survey the landscape around him - large hands perched on his hips. He wore a short chiton that just barely hid his bottom and leather sandals laced to his knee. It was common enough attire in the Overworld, but on him, it appeared new and exotic. It no longer surprised Katniss to discover how very enticed she was by his appearance.

After some planning, he settled down to work. As his brush swept the canvas, Katniss crept ever closer, observing as the field and sky emerged from the blank expanse, a near perfect duplication of the reality before them. Except there was something added, an overlay of his very essence, not unlike the part of himself he left behind when he walked the fields or touched the plants and animals. The trees in the painting were as alive as the ones in the forest, the grasses moved as they did now, with the wind threading between them.

But the most extraordinary thing she observed was the sun, not as mortals saw it, but the way the she did, as all gods did. Not an indescript ball of yellows and oranges but a beautiful woman, riding triumphantly in her chariot, galloping across the sky. Nothing in a mortal’s pallet could approximate the vivacity, the pure radiance of the light her sister wore when she made her daily journey across the heavens.

Katniss stared overlong at the magic that unfolded, drawn like a moth to an incandescent flame. She did not realize how close she’d gotten to Peeta until her elbow brushed against his, causing him to freeze mid brush stroke.

He cast a glance around him, searching for the source of the interruption. Katniss, in her stead, did not trust herself to move even a hair, for fear he would discover her. He set the brush down, his face tightening in wariness.

“Show yourself,” he demanded.

Katniss stared at him unmoving, unable to tear her attention from the way the wind lifted his ashy-blond locks. She thrilled at the idea that he sought her, even if he did not know her identity.

He swept the air suddenly, his fingers brushing her shoulder. She could tear herself away, dissolve into the ground, transport herself to her chariot and race with silent fury down into the depths of her kingdom. But she became aware of another desire, one she had been nursing in her heart since the moment she saw him on the hillock, at the side of his father. She was a master of lurking among humans and immortals alike but what she really wanted was to be discovered. She longed to be found by him.

With an act of will, she shed her helmet of invisibility and allowed him to look at her.

Her sudden appearance forced him to take a step back, causing him to nearly collide with his easel. But it was the effect of only a moment, and he recovered quickly. He took her in completely, from head to toe, and she tolerated his appraisal of her, allowing his eyes to roam over her face, her body, even her scepter. His scrutiny made her blood quicken and it was all she could do to not pant noisily before him.

“Goddess,” he said finally.

“Not Goddess,” she said, steadying her voice. “Katniss. And I’ve been watching you.”

End Act I

A million thanks to my betas and support. To @eala-musings, who is always ready to help read what I write and do her very best to fix the messes I make. To the incredible @katnissdoesnotfollowback, who remembered when I toyed with the idea of this fic almost 2 years ago. She lent her significant betaing ability to the editing of this story and, in particular, the nuances and details relating to Greek Mythology as well as helping me keep track of the genderbending taking place in this story.

I have to also thank my best friend and banner-maker, @akai-echo, who is my creative partner in crime. She manages to visualize what I write and turn it into gorgeous banners that are brilliantly made.

Note about mythology:

My interpretation of the Persephone/Hades myth that sees her complicit in her abduction. This is obviously not the myth everyone knows but it is actually one version of a myth that exists in some form or another throughout every culture. I was heavily influenced by the poem, “Persephone the Wanderer” by Louisa Glück, found in her collection, Averno.

To cast this story, I had to try to match innate qualities of THG characters with roles they would be most associated with. In some cases, I had to fudge things. Therefore, Prim, as Apollo, would also exercise the aspect of healing, Madge as Hermes, is not only the messenger of the gods, but also serves as escort to the spirits of the dead. The most glaring “miscast” is Gale as Thanatos and not as Artemis but had I gone that route, I would have lost my Gadge and I do love Gadge so very much! Plus, I love putting Thresh in strong roles wherever I can and he fits my idea of a male Artemis very much :).

Music inspiration is various. I'm a huge fan of covers and have recently discovered Chase Holfelder. I love his rendition of Every Breath You Take and I Want You to Want Me.

I’ve given a good listen to Taylor Swift’s and Zane’s I Don’t Wanna Live Forever, Rihanna’s Skin and a throwback to the 90’s with Avril Lavigne’s When You’re Gone.

Act II posting soon.

#march madness #march 2017 #mm2017 #dandelion in darkness #titaniasfics #love in panem #lip #everlark #thg fanfiction #everlark fanfiction #LIP drabbles

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