Heads Up, Seven Up

Heads up, Seven Up

Well look at that. She’s posting a tag game. Thank you @imaginativemind29new I genuinely didn’t think I could manage this one because the last thing I remember writing (coherently) was some Spanish homework, but apparently instead of doing my physics final (in class) I was writing, so here you go.

This post is dedicated to my academic chaos and my bruised rib (it really hurts btw I am being so brave and strong rn you don’t even know)

This is from my pirate book!

If Lucy had thought the siren couldn’t look any angrier, she had been wrong.

“Stand down,” the siren hissed, and Lucy had laughed.

“No.”

The screaming started again. Lucy would not win this fight, would not injure her crew in the place of the siren—but she would try.

She failed.

And now here she sat, in the brig.

When the door opened, it did so with a slam, rattling the walls with supernatural force.

The siren filled the doorway, blocking the light, dressed in sailor’s clothes. It felt wrong, to see a creature of the sea in clothes from the land, but there they were.

They appraised her, as if attempting to read the thoughts on her face. Maybe they could. There was little information on sirens, other than fairytales and ghost stories.

Lucy presumed the people who discovered information about sirens firsthand now lay at the bottom of the sea, rotting.

The siren smiled.

“Hello, darling. Let’s talk.”

I forgot how much I like ending chapters like that. Anywho, here’s my tag victims (with no pressure, darlings) @jay-avian @ettawritesnstudies @clairelsonao3 @writingwithcolor @writersandkitties-blog-blog-blog @wildbooklover @hojo76 (hojo you don’t write but you won’t notice my goddamn posts unless I tag you, and you’re the one who gives me writing prompts that you never even READ, so I’m salty. So deal with it)

I opened a Dr Pepper, broke a nail in the process, almost dropped it all over my floor, texted my best friend about how graceful I am, and then only remembered the Dr Pepper existed THREE HOURS LATER WHEN SHE FINALLY TEXTED ME BACK AND I WAS REMINDED OF IT

I’m gonna go forget it again

Find the word tag

Man, @oh-no-another-idea you gave me some tricky words! Thanks for the tag!

(I had to go to TWO different WIP’s for this lol, so it’s a bit long) as a byproduct, you get an introduction to one of my other WIP’s that I haven’t mentioned before. It only minorly has a name.

(The rain story. Scintillating title, I know)

He caught her arm and turned her to face him. “The rest of us stopped being teenagers a long time ago. The government sees us as adults, and so does the rest of society. And even if the rest of society doesn’t link us all together, the government does. So, you screw up, we all feel it,” He sent a look back at his bodyguards, and they disappeared. “It’s not just about you, Three. It isn’t about what you want, even if you’re the baby. This is about how we all make it out of this alive”

She made a disgusted noise. “Is this living though?” She gestured to the walls and bloodstained floor. “Murder, gangs, weapons that the government uses for its own gain. How is becoming the villain living?” She sent Lex a vicious glance. “That isn’t living, Seven, and I would have hoped you would know the difference after everything.”

He flicked his eyes over her face and shook his head. “There’s a big difference between alive and living, Three.” He heaved a sigh. “You can’t tell me you don’t enjoy it. The talents you have, your…Shall we say penchant for death—you can’t tell me you don’t like it. You cannot be that good, cannot cause that much chaos and death and fear and not relish it at the same time.” His gaze hardened. “I know this isn’t an easy life, but it’s the only one you have. The only one we have. So you need to pull it together. If you can’t do it for yourself, do it for the people who bear the punishments for your screw-ups; us.”

She yanked her arm out of his hand. “Don’t you dare try and guilt me with that. I’ve been doing everything for the rest of you for my entire life, and I can’t do this anymore. When am I supposed to do things for me? Do you think I enjoy existing only as a façade? As a criminal, a scary story, an assassin? When do I get to be a person, not a weapon?” Her voice broke, and Lex looked away. She took his silence as an answer, and she turned towards the door, boots scraping against the concrete floor.

“And by the way,” She turned, hand still on the doorknob, “My name is Rain.”

(My siren story. Dunno if I want to disclose the name yet because yk. Copyright stuff, eventually.)

The sun beat down on Lucy’s shoulders as she walked across the deck of the ship. Above her, gulls shrieked relentlessly in response to the tolling of bells in the harbor of Valis.

The bells were a goodbye, fading as the winds and the waves pulled their ship further and further into the expanse of the sea.

Lucy sucked in a breath, saltwater burning her nose, then leaned down to untie a rope, fingers worming between the worn threads. The rope unraveled, and one of the sails snapped open above her, loud enough that she grinned, and one of the newer deck hands yelped quietly.

The deck hand blinked owlishly at her, a red flush spreading across the bridge of his nose—from heat or embarrassment, she couldn’t discern, and she glanced out in time to see the rising clock towers of Valis fade completely from view.

Fast winds, then. Her gaze snagged on a rush of fog flooding its way to kiss the edges of the waves, further obscuring the remnant edges of Valis, and she frowned. And a faster moving fog front.

The deck hand winced, and she looked back to find him looking between her lips and her eyes, as if trying to judge her mood from those two items alone. Internally, she grimaced.

Externally, she shifted to loosen her posture and relaxed her mouth so she no longer looked like she was going to kill this deck hand for flinching at the sound of a sail opening.

“It’s fine,” Lucy said smoothly, checking on the fog front out of the corner of her eye. It would slam into them in minutes, and then they would be blind.

Blind on open water, in a country where they were not always considered the biggest threat. Her crew was—but ignorance is a powerful shot of courage to those who wish to prey upon easy targets.

The deck hand shifted nervously.

“You’re new, right?” she continued, and he gave a sheepish nod. “What’s your name then, you.”

The deck hand blinked again, and she began to wonder if Elira had picked up another mute—fine in practice, but she was rusty with sign and was loathe to make another crew member feel alienated within their own home simply because of her inadequacy.

A moment later, the deck hand spoke, and she smiled at him.

“Aven.”

Lucy didn’t ask for a last name. This ship was a home, a haven, and a safe place. Sometimes being safe meant only having one name. Lucy didn’t disclose her last name either.

“Nice to meet you, Aven. You hailed from Valis?” The fog crept closer and she shifted on the balls of her toes. She really needed to go let Elira know about the fog—the rest of the crew was below deck. Normally, there would be more watchmen stationed for weather and threats. A whole division. And yet, here Lucy was, alone on the massive craft of wood, with Aven.

Aven scratched the back of his neck, and when he spoke, Lucy picked up a lilting accent. “No. Just got picked up through there—I traveled for a bit. Three weeks, bleedingly hot. I heard about a ship that took people who were willing to work in, though, so I made the journey.”

Three weeks didn’t narrow down the options of where Aven might hail from, but Lucy sensed he was being intentionally vague. Either a bad past, or a private person.

Both, she respected. Elira likely knew where he hailed from, and if Elira had adopted him into the crew, then Lucy was fine with it.

The back of her neck tingled, as if someone had blown into her ear and whispered ‘danger’.

Lucy snapped her gaze from Aven to find the fog reaching for the ship with expectant tendrils, like a young one reaching for something new it could demand and receive. The top of her spine tingled again, and her mouth filled with the taste of iron and salt.

If it was a normal fog, they would be alright. Sit dead in the water, watchmen manning the edges of the boat to ensure nothing struck them, and eventually the fog would pass.

This was not a normal fog.

“Salts,” she cursed vehemently, and she bolted for the captain's quarters, rattling down the halls so loudly she heard voices stop behind the doors she was passing. She heard Aven yell a startled query behind her, and then she slammed through the door of the captain’s quarters and let it hit the wall with a cacophonous rattle.

Elira looked up from an ink scrawled stack of papers, hand reaching for a dagger. The violence eased from her brows as she saw Lucy’s face.

“Lucy, love, we really must have a talk about your manners—” Elira began teasingly, and Lucy cut her off with a sharp breath, slamming the door shut behind her.

“Fog front incoming from the northern side. It's rolling off Valis,” Lucy strode to Elira’s desk to rustle through one of the drawers, hands scrabbling through meaningless stacks of compasses and daggers until she found what she was looking for. Her fingers hooked upon the cord, and she shut the drawer on the mess now spilling from it and thrust the object at Elira.

“We have protocols for fog. Let me just call the watchmen and we’ll get everything sorted,” Elira said with an air of confusion, and then her gaze dropped to Lucy’s outstretched hand and her voice stopped.

“You need to put this on,” Lucy said, fear riding its way up her spine. The taste of magic was stronger now, and her whole body was vibrating with the proximity to it.

Elira’s face slipped into that of a captain with ease, and she took the pendant from Lucy and slipped it over her head, guiding it over her curly dark hair.

“Not normal fog, then.”

Alrighty folks, time for tags! @oh-no-another-idea, I’m tagging you back :) @jay-avian @silver-ink-iron-words @silvertalondagger @averyconfusedhuman @imaginativemind29new your words are anguish, glimmer, steal (or any variation of it) and misery

Romance Snippets

The only romance I’m capable of writing, it seems, is the off brand flavor. Like store brand cheerios. Slightly unsettling. Obsessive and unrequited love. These two are not an end game ship I swear to god if any of you ship them I’m gonna lose it. He’s problematic in an unhot way. Anywho, thank you @imaginativemind29new for the tag!

His hand gripped hers, and before she could grab for a knife, he had slammed her into the opal throne so hard her thighs groaned in protest.

“You want force?” He kept one hand clenched around her wrist, and materialized a crown out of the air. He set it on top of her head, and it was warm through her hair. “Is this enough for you?”

She sat, stunned, before she attempted to rise.

“What are you doing—” she had barely lifted off the seat before he pushed her back down.

“You wish to wield your titles like a dictator? Then I should make you one. Would that please that aching and ravenous part of you that dreams of my death?”

“You know it wouldn’t.”

“Because you hate me,” he mused, “or because you don’t want to be powerful?”

She sneered at him.

“I would rather die than rule beside you.”

He hummed.

“Oh, Violent thing, I know. But I think you would love the power of corruption—such strength, total control over hundreds? You would go hungry for it.”

“Then you’re just as stupid and desperate as I thought you were.”

Riven laughed, and Clarke snapped his head to Riven. A moment later, he turned back, face drawn.

“Of all the choices and paths to take, you made a deal with a demon for power,” he said lowly. “How desperate does that make you?”

Her heart clenched.

“Shut up.”

“I bet you told yourself it was to save your cousin, poor, precious, broken Viridian.” He leaned close enough for his breath to tickle her ear, and she stonily looked ahead, refusing to glance at him. “It was really because you were tired of being nothing, wasn’t it?”

Time ground to a painful stop, and she slammed her fist into his face.

His hand flew to his nose and when it came away bloody, he laughed.

“God, Violent Thing, you’re so beautiful when you’re angry.”

“I hate you,” she snapped, and he simply laughed more, a smile gracing his face.

When he lowered his hand fully, she found his face filled with fascination—as if he really did find her beautiful.

Her stomach clenched, and she fought off a wave of nausea.

“You could be my queen,” he offered, blood splattering from his nose onto the floor.

She stared at him, stunned, then said numbly, “Of what? Your manic attempt at power?”

He grinned, and it was half bloody.

"The world.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

And then we have these fluffy ones—

“I was fine, as always. Who do you think sounded the alarm?” she asked sarcastically, and she waited for him to laugh. Instead, when she glanced at his face, she only saw concern, mixed with an emotion she didn’t want to acknowledge.

Lucy looked away.

“There’s a fog front rolling in. Reeks of magic,” Lucy said, just to put something between her and the look on Malcolm’s face. He sniffed, like he would be able to smell it.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Getting to you, darling?”

Lucy grit her teeth, wincing against Alistair's tightening palms.

“I don’t want to fuck you, if that’s what you’re asking.”

The siren tipped their head, entirely to sensual for a motion so simple.

“Oh, such a crude, human word. I could be so gentle. So sweet, so lovely, so wonderful—” something on Lucy’s face stopped them, and that effervescently beautiful smile dropped from their face like a rock. “This doesn’t effect you at all, does it.”

Calculating. So, so calculating, their gaze. Lucy knew that look. She wore it often enough.

Lucy half shrugged a shoulder. “You’re pretty, but you’re no god.”

And for the tags! @jay-avian @ettawritesnstudies @jtl-fics

And of course, it’s open to anyone who wants to play ❤️

it took a word document two days to load and open on my computer and during that time it told me to go fuck myself and also murdered my entire family

I want pasta

I’m too stubborn to be injured

This does not bode well for me