endure & survive.

𝐝𝐫𝐚𝐰𝐬 𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐩 𝐛𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐩𝐚𝐥𝐦 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐚𝐠𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐬𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐦𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐨𝐟 𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤    ,           rough fingertips digging into her skin like he can't quite get close enough.         years have passed since anyone touched her like this   :   no one since roan,   the night before he banished her from their people.        feels different somehow up here ,   their years of turmoil leading to this    :    something soft & bittersweet,         the first thing she's let herself want. . .     maybe ever.      though her spine remains too-straight and rigid,        echo lets herself lean into him,        tongue brushing along his bottom lip   &   breathing a soft sigh of his name.    they should go somewhere else , spare themselves the uncomfortable conversation that comes with getting caught,            but she can't bring herself to pull away.           instead finds herself tugging him closer,         her own hand dropping to fist in the fabric of his shirt.  

-        i have made a new discord for comfort reasons    ,          please let me know if you would like it  !       it will be open to absolutely any of my mutuals.     i did go through somewhat of an unfollow spree today,        so please note that i’m totally comfortable with you having my discord if i’m following you now.       ♥ -        i am working on revamping my multi     ,        so please send any muse / oc affiliate suggestions my way  !        i absolutely love plotting out affiliated muses / world building.            i’m always looking for more azgeda-based muses to be affiliated with echo       ,     as well.     -        i will be changing echo’s theme sometime today     ,           so bear with me as her blog goes ‘ under construction ‘  !       her normal theme has many pop-ups and intricacies       ,         so it will take me awhile to get things back into place.  -        all of my replies are in my queue        ,           so let me know if you’d like a starter from echo  !           i would really like to explore more dynamics from echo’s time in azgeda    ;               hit me up for plotting in this verse   !           i am also very interested in exploring more dynamics in echo’s two modern verses   ;         hmu for plotting in either of those verses,      as well  ! -        i love you guys  !        from the very bottom of my heart       ,         thank you for your patience with me over the last little bit.             i know things have been negative around here for a little while            ,            but i’m actively working on self-improvement.       unfortunately,     i am human,     and i have so many struggles and imperfections.         i’m trying to be better,    though,      and i ask you to challenge me ?       challenge me to continue improving,      challenge me when you see i’m being too negative,      challenge me when i’m not doing my part to better myself   &   this community.         i want to grow,     but i need help doing so.   

𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡 𝐡𝐞 𝐝𝐨𝐞𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐥𝐚𝐮𝐠𝐡,        she can sense his amusement.         knows her fears seem silly to him,         the weapon in her grasp one he understands as intimately as she understands her bow & arrow.             but for her,      guns represent the mountain men.           they represent the scars she bears even now,      the fear that spread like wildfire through her people when skaikru invaded their home.         even the     ( normally comforting )    press of his chest against her back   /   the brush of his palms along her arms as he guides her into place do little to calm her,       shoulders remaining tensed and body stiff.       she does not want to do this.          ‘        it would be impossible for you to get hurt like this,       sha ?          ’        murmured low in case any of the others pass by  ---         even with him behind her,      she needs to be sure.           needs to be sure she can't accidentally screw this up and hurt him somehow.          turns her head just enough to glance back at him,        creased brow betraying just how scared she is.        ‘        the others,    too?          ’  

𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐢𝐬 𝐠𝐨𝐧𝐧𝐚 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞 𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐠𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝.       in many ways,     he was right   :   their family remains untouched,      bond stronger than the war they walked right into.       their love has not wavered despite near-death and declarations of banishment from his sister.       everything that counts,     everything that matters    ;     those things have not changed.       but why does he kiss her now like it’s his last time?       she can tell he’s memorizing her,      savoring the way she tastes,     mapping out the dips and curves of her body with fingertips that ghost along her skin.       like he’s afraid this will be his last time,       like freedom doesn’t wait on the other side of the gorge.      brows furrow as she draws back,      dark gaze searching his for answers to unspoken questions:       why are you afraid?      why does this feel like goodbye?

𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐦𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞 𝐢𝐧 𝐬𝐢𝐚’𝐬 𝐛𝐫𝐨𝐰 𝐝𝐨𝐞𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐠𝐨 𝐮𝐧𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐢𝐜𝐞𝐝.           she doesn’t comment,   though:       knows sia well enough to remain silent.         or maybe it’s that she’s distracted by her closeness   ---- by the warmth of her breath,        by the curve of her lips as she speaks.        𝐠𝐚𝐳𝐞 𝐜𝐞𝐫𝐭𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐥𝐲 𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐨𝐧 𝐟𝐮𝐥𝐥 𝐭𝐢𝐞𝐫𝐬,     length of her body growing too-still,     tense.       only her hands remain loose,       found safe in the warmth of sia’s touch.                ‘     so,      no sparring,      ’        she murmurs,       gaze flickering up to meet sia’s as she draws unsteady breath.             ‘       understood.      ’

𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐫𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞 𝐬𝐨 𝐬𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐚𝐧 𝐰𝐚𝐭𝐜𝐡 𝐡𝐢𝐦,        amusement tugging at her expression.        though echo would never consider monty’s creations good,        she’s certainly had worse.       at least here she knows there’s always something,         no chance at hunger gnawing at her stomach.            ‘        anything would be an improvement,        ’       she murmurs,      hand straying from her side to find his.      fingers lace together as soft gaze trails over his expression,      as if committing him to memory in this light.     ( someone so akin to loss,      she does this sometimes:       watches him,    memorizes him,       learns every little tic and tremor ).        ‘        are we all playing cards after ?        ’  

‘      i would do it again,      ’           she murmurs,        voice low so she doesn’t wake bellamy.         gaze hazy from a potent mix of pain and medicine,        echo offers him the very ghost of a smile.         glances in her boyfriend’s direction before looking back at miller,      expression evening back out.             ‘      —-  don’t tell him i said that.          ’  

can’t think about that now,  though:            not when they’ve spent so many moons apart.      not when breaths grow weary in sia’s absence;        when the gentle brush of fingertips along echo’s heated skin quiets all her demons.        making a fist in the fabric of sia’s top,        echo draws her in close as forehead comes to rest against her own.           ‘    roan will lead us now,        ’          she murmurs,    voice laden with grief she won’t show.     dark gaze lingers on sia’s icy hues as she presses closer,        the warmth of familiar body eliciting a wildfire in her very bones.             ‘      he will be good for our people.      ’      this is their way,  after all:     marching ever-forward,         the next battle replacing their last.          pushing lingering politics from her mind,         echo tugs at the fabric of sia’s top,          already leaning in to press her lips against soft skin.

𝐬𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐮𝐠𝐠𝐥𝐞𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐝 𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐞 𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞,     though she knows better than to complain.     not when queen nia plucked her from the men who tore her family part;      not when their blood still stains the castle’s floors.      keeps to herself, though,     preferring to let her tenacity and quick-thinking speak for themselves.    dark gaze darts upwards at stranger’s sudden approach,      surprise biting at sharp tongue when she sees who has joined her.      prince roan,     the queen’s son.          ‘     ai get em in,     ’         she murmurs,    untouched food resting on plate before her.      brows furrowing,    she studies him;       can’t help but wonder why he’s here.         ‘  chit yu gaf?      ’

𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐨𝐨𝐥 𝐦𝐞𝐭𝐚𝐥 𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐥𝐬 𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐞𝐢𝐠𝐧 𝐢𝐧 𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐝.      doesn’t fit right in her grip,      the weight heavy and awkward.      knows how to use her bow and arrow with ease,      can take the biggest adversary to their knees with a single slice of her blade.        but a gun?        she was not meant to use a gun.          ‘     bellamy,     ’       she begins,    finally tearing her gaze away from the weapon to catch his eye.          ‘      you’re sure raven doesn’t need me today?      ’