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Palmistry

🖐 🖐 🖐 🖐

*sorry I only did one minor line (marriage line)*

Palms

* For females, the right hand is what you're born with, and left is what you've accumulated throughout your life.

* For males, The left hand is what you're born with, and the right is what you've accumulated throughout your life.

* Another way would be you can choose whichever hand is dominant to be your present/past life hand (the non-dominant hand would then be your future life hand)

* Earth - broad, square palms and fingers, thick or coarse skin, and ruddy color; length of the palm equals length of fingers

* Solid values and energy, sometimes stubborn

* Practical and responsible, sometimes materialistic

* Work with their hands, comfortable with the tangible

* Air - square or rectangular palms with long fingers and sometimes protruding knuckles, low-set thumbs, and dry skin; length of the palm less than length of fingers

* Sociable, talkative and witty

* Can be shallow, spiteful and cold

* Comfortable with the mental and the intangible

* Does things in different and radical ways

* Water - long, sometimes oval-shaped palm, with long, flexible, conical fingers; length of the palm equals the length of fingers but is less than the width across the widest part of the palm.

* Creative, perceptive and sympathetic

* Can be moody, emotional and inhibited

* Introverts

* Do things quietly and intuitively.

* Fire - square or rectangular palm, flushed or pink skin, and shorter fingers; length of the palm is greater than length of fingers

* Spontaneous, enthusiastic and optimistic

* Sometimes egoistic, impulsive and insensitive

* Extroverts

* Do things boldly and instinctively.

Hand Mounts

* That's what the fleshy bit below your fingers are called, on the opposite side of your knuckle.

* To make them visible, cup your hand just a bit.

* A high Venus mount (the one under your thumb) indicates a predisposition for hedonism, promiscuity, and the need for instant gratification. A non-existent Venus mount indicates little interest in family matters.

* The mount under your index finger is called the Jupiter mount. If this is well-developed, it means you are dominant, possibly self-centered, and aggressive. A lack of one means you lack confidence.

* Under your middle finger is the Saturn mount. A high mount shows you're stubborn, cynical, and prone to depression. If it is low, it's an indicator of superficiality and disorganization.

* The Sun mount is under your ring finger. You're quick-tempered, extravagant, and prideful if you have a high Sun mount. A low Sun mount means you lack imagination.

* The Mercury mount is under your pinkie. If it's protruding, you talk too much. A low mount means the opposite -- you're shy.

Heart Line

* This line can be read in either direction (from the pinkie finger to the index finger or vice versa) depending on the tradition being followed.

* It's believed to indicate emotional stability, romantic perspectives, depression, and cardiac health.

* Begins below the index finger - content with love life

* Begins below the middle finger - selfish when it comes to love

* Begins in the middle - falls in love easily

* Straight and short - less interest in romance

* Touches life line - heart is broken easily

* Not Present- ruled by logic instead of emotion.

* Present at the fate line- Consumed by others

* Long and curvy - freely expresses emotions and feelings

* Straight and parallel to the head line - good handle on emotions

* Wavy - many relationships and lovers, absence of serious relationships

* Circle on the line - sadness or depression

* Broken line - emotional trauma

* Smaller lines crossing through heart line - emotional trauma

Head Line

* This represents a person's learning style, communication approach, intellectualism, and thirst for knowledge.

* A curved line is associated with creativity and spontaneity, while a straight line is linked with practicality and a structured approach.

* Short line - prefers physical achievements over mental ones

* Curved, sloping line - creativity

* Separated from life line - adventure, enthusiasm for life

* Wavy line - short attention span

* Deep, long line - thinking is clear and focused

* Straight line - thinks realistically

* Donuts or cross in head line - emotional crisis

* Broken head line - inconsistencies in thought

* Multiple crosses through head line - momentous decisions

* If the head line is not there, it indicates a sluggish person.

* A faint line indicates the person lacks concentration and memory.

* A deep line represents good memory and concentration.

* If the head line begins at the life line, this indicates the person is strong-willed.

* A head line that is separate from the life line indicates an individual who has a strong sense of enthusiasm and adventure for life.

Life Line

* This begins near the thumb and travels in an arc towards the wrist. It reflects physical health, general well-being, and major life changes (for example, cataclysmic events, physical injuries, and relocation).

* Its length is not associated with length of life.

* Runs close to thumb - often tired

* Curvy - plenty of energy

* Long, deep - vitality

* Short and shallow - manipulated by others

* Swoops around in a semicircle - strength, and enthusiasm

* Straight and close to the edge of the palm - cautious when it comes to relationships

* Multiple life lines - extra vitality

* Circle in line indicates - hospitalized or injured

* Break - sudden change in lifestyle

Fate Line

* This is also known as the line of destiny, and it indicates the degree to which a person's life is affected by external circumstances beyond their control.

* It begins at the base of the palm.

* Deep line - strongly controlled by fate

* Breaks and changes of direction - prone to many changes in life from external forces

* Starts joined to life line - self-made individual; develops aspirations early on

* Joins with the life line around in the middle - signifies a point at which one's interests must be surrendered to those of others

* Starts at base of the thumb and crosses life line - support offered by family and friends.

Marriage Line

* mainly reflects the situation of your marriage life, love relationship, marriage time as well as your attitude towards love.

* It is located below the base of the little finger just above the heart line

* A straight long marriage line indicates deep and long love.

* If your marriage line is short, it indicates passionless to the opposite sex.

* If it's also shallow, you usually lack the patience to pursue the opposite sex and hard to fall deep when fall in love.

* If your marriage line goes downwards at the end (Figyour partner will die earlier than you. If it curves downwards suddenly, your partner may suffer from accidental death.

* Another situation is that it curves downwards and touches the heart line. This indicates marriage crises and personality clashes with your partner.

* If the line curves upwards at the end, it indicates constant in love and a settled marriage life.

* If the line is forked at the beginning with a shape of "Y", It indicates split-up

* If the line has split ends, it indicates marriage crises and separation.You may spend the whole life in confusion. You may also suffer from indigestion.

* The broken marriage line shows you are easy to meet setbacks in love or marriage.

* The longer the broken part is, the more serious the situation is. If the break is short, that’s not too much problem.

* If an island appears at the beginning of the line, it shows you may not go smoothly in love relationship before marriage.

* An island in the middle indicates twists and turns in love.

* If the island appears at the end of the line, it indicated obstacles after marriage.

* Many islands indicate unfavorable love relationship and marriage.

* Grilles means that there are great ups and downs during your marriage life.

* If you have multi disordered overlapping lines with different lengths, it shows you couldn't have an ideal love relationship or marriage. It's hard to meet a good lover and easy to spend the whole life without marriage.

* If you have two marriage lines running parallel with the same length, it indicates a tortuous marriage. Also, people who separate with his/her partner for a long time and reunite usually have this kind of marriage line.

* If the two lines running parallel with different lengths, you are easy to fall into love-triangle situations.

lunarkyn

Ocean Eyes - Lee Felix

Pairing: Lee Felix x Fem!Reader (not very many mentions of gender though)

Genre: Fantasy, Romance, Angst - Warning: Mentions of death, violence, and anxiety. Read at your own risk.

Summary: The past always repeats itself, and not in good ways. Love can be found again, and pain can be cleansed, but it takes time. And time, you did not have on your side. Memories dug up, broken pieces revealed, and secrets told. No one is safe.

Word Count: 10k (new record, whoo!)

A/N: Literally, I’m so proud of how far this fic came. I might do a second just because of how good this story turned out, and plus the cast are so dear to me now, I might have to. This is also a new record for procrastination and length, so yay me! Hope you enjoy, there will be a bit of POV changing, so watch out :)

You liked the water, despite the roughness of it at day and the sweetness of it at night. Like a child with bipolar disorder, it constantly ruled itself, no matter what people did to try to make it calmer, it never worked. Of course it didn’t, it was only ruled by one man, someone who didn’t even control himself in terms of emotions.

You worked as a lifeguard, wanting to teach people about why the water of the world was tame and not to be feared. Although you held a secret, something no one knew. You, were special. Not like the rest.

“Mom,” A little boy shuffles his feet, you notice he’s decked in flip flops and board shorts with sunscreen lathered on his tan skin. “I don’t wanna swim, it’s scary.”

His mother leans down, her hair falling around her face, framing it nicely. You can’t focus on them, yet you still give them an ear incase you needed to step in. “Well, do you want to go home? We came here for the family event, Kyungwon.”

Kyungwon frowns, noticing how your eyes scan the sea for anyone in distress. He feels slightly safer, even if his mother wouldn’t watch him. “Yeah but it’s scary, what if I drown?”

“You won’t drown, Kyungwon.” Her voice sounds frustrated now, you flick your eyes to them for a millisecond before returning to the people. She reminded you of someone, you couldn’t put a name to it. How hard is it to tell a kid you’d protect them, especially your own kid?

“Yes I will,” His voice raises, he’s obviously upset, “and you won’t save me.” You lift a hand at his words, waving at him when he looks at you again. A small smile graces your golden lit features, Kyungwon thinks you look like a mythical creature. Silver hair resting just above shoulder length, eyes that seem to flow as deep as the ocean with knowledge that could power the word. You were always told you had an old soul.

“Hey kiddo, I’m here to protect you, okay? Don’t be scared of the water, it’s your friend.” He nods, seemingly satisfied with your answer. You didn’t bother returning the glare the mother sent to you, if she couldn’t have her child understand he was safe at all times was she really doing her job?

You watch as he full on runs to the water, kicking up the turf and splashing what looked to be a relative. The receiver crackles on your lap, a code you didn’t recognize going through, then a flurry of words. Shark spotted, remove the people from the water. Shark spotted, remove the people from the water. dLife, prepare for a fight.

And with that, you throw yourself off the podium, feet kicking up sand beside you as you shout into the megaphone attached to the clip on your hip, “Everyone, out of the water!”

As soon as your feet hit the wet sand, your features begin to change along with the rest of the people running into the ocean to protect the mortals. Your hair began to take a golden sheen to it, your skin seeming to glow ethereally as you dived into the water. You were classified as a demigod, though the others beside you were from littler gods, like swamps and rivers. No Big Three would have that many kids, well, maybe Zeus would since he was known for having many children, god and demi.

Your arms begin to rip through the water as you spin underneath the surface, you see the ‘sharks’, more well known to your people as nereids. One waves to you, her sharp teeth glimmering as she spins around. You feel bad for them, despite them technically being your thousand-year-old servants, you knew all they wanted to do was play with the children and feed on the fish. Your father, Poseidon, would of course frown upon the knowledge that they became more reckless.

Though mortals couldn’t see what demigods and gods could, there were still some special people who could see through what immortals and partials called the Mist, a division between reality and fantasy. There were of course mental and physical things that demigods had, like ADHD and dyslexia, though dyslexia was less prominent due to where you lived. Most hoped they wouldn’t have anything, just so they could fit in better.

Funny how people were, wanting to be special but once you were, you wished to be normal over anything else. You, on the other hand, were a major mistake. The Big Three, weren’t meant to have children, due to the sheer amount of power they would behold. Surprise surprise, even gods can’t keep their wangs in their heavenly pants. That’s why you were called a mistake, little slip ups by your foster mother. Ah, your real mother though.

Your real mother was a naiad, a brook spirit to be exact. She loved to tell you stories about how handsome your father was, yet you never actually got to see his face, only the snippets of bright blips of light above your head when he claimed you as his child. Happy birthday, you’re the kid of a nineteen hundred thousand year old man baby who left you and your mom because he broke a rule.

With those abilities though, came some pretty awesome abilities. You could manipulate currents and speak to sea creatures, and if you focused hard enough you could control amounts of water.

Your real weapon though, was in your mind. The sharp wit you held always led you to trouble, but it also led you to meet two boys, who now resided with you as your roomates. Chan, the son of Apollo, god of music and arts, and Woojin, the son of Tyche, goddess of luck.

Chan had found you mid-fight with a harpy, her claws grabbing at your hair while you tried to take your dagger out of her wing and get a better place to stab. He had only walked up, slicing her head off with a long swipe, and after that, he was the man you looked up to. He was only a few years older than you, but he often liked to fill the role as your father.

His father actually visited him, though. And you would become envious, but would understand. Your dad was busy, right? He’d visit sometime when he was off work.

And then you grew up. Twelve years turned to sixteen, and sixteen turned to eighteen. You finally understood that your father wasn’t busy, he just didn’t care.

Your arms lead you in an arrow position, your feet paddling behind you through the rough waters. The farther you went into the ocean, the rougher it became. Poseidon must really be in a crap mood today, you think.

A fish swims alongside you, your lips upturning in a grim smile as it leads you to the pod of ‘sharks’. In reality, it was a seemingly lost pod of nereids, the ocean version of your mother. Beautiful, with little fins on their forearms and teeth sharper than knives, their assorted shades of rainbow hair pooling around them.

“Excuse me,” you call out, you can barely hear your own voice despite the bubble of air around you. They turn, your momentarily starstruck by how gorgeous they are. As if the world’s top superstars united to create the flock of women in front of you. It was the beauty that would have been considered illegal. “You need to leave the beach. The mortals are getting scared thinking you’re sharks. There’s a private bay a few miles off, no one will see you and it’s got much cleaner water.”

They hiss collectively, their teeth sharper than knives. For a second you catch yourself drawing back, before moving yourself closer. One moves forward, her looks seem to be more rougher than the others, possibly the eldest.

“Who are you to tell us where we stay?” She snaps, you nearly reel back. One of the smaller nereids swims forward, her green forefins swishing in the current. Her face is youthful, but not the type of childishness you’d associate with youth. More like a plump-cheek, rosy smile prettiness that grandmothers would compliment for hours.

“Can we get an actual reason to leave? The water is really calm here compared to farther out, and there’s more fish here. We can’t get enough in the slopes, our offspring are starving.” Her voice is calming, something that could calm any crying baby.

“Look, there are mortals on the bay who think you ladies are all sharks. They’ll capture you, and then you’ll never be able to get food to your kids.” You tread, your legs begin to feel heavier and heavier with exhaustion. How long has it been, an hour? “Please, go to the cove area. It’s safer and there’s lots of food, there’s a channel as well that leads straight out without any boats crossing through.”

Murmurs of disapproval flow around the pod, though the leader seems to appreciate the information and pushes herself off towards the cove. You turn around, heading back to the beach. Others seem to have found nothing, the sandy plane cleared from innocents with a few mortal lifeguards staying to ‘help out’.

They knew something was special about the iLife crew, though most of them push it off like every other innocent. There was one boy though, who never let it go.

His feet kicked sand behind him as he ran to your dripping form, the lifeguard swimsuit clinging to your body as he draped a towel on your shoulders. “You were gone for almost an hour, L/N. We were about to call for coast guard.”

“Shouldn’t you be with your faction, Lee?” You frown, tightening the towel around your shoulders to keep out the cool breeze. “It’s not safe here, there might be more sharks around.”

“I doubt the sharks are going to come up 20 feet to bite our feet when there’s plenty of food on the other side of the beach.” He frowned, staring into your eyes as he waited for you to tell the truth. “Plus, I was worried about you.”

“Why is that?” You kick the sand, following him as he starts to head back to your stand. “We’ve rarely spoken outside pleasantries, what gives you the reason to worry about me?”

“Because, you’re a nice person who I genuinely care about, just because you’re human. Do I have to personally know you to care about your wellbeing?” He asks, taking the towel from your drying shoulders and setting it to dry on the arms of your podium. “We don’t personally know the people who roam the beach to swim but we protect them with our lives, why shouldn’t we care for each other?”

“Look, I’m not supposed to make friends with you guys, please don’t make my job harder than it’s meant to be.” If only he knew the word human didn’t exactly apply to you, how awkward. “Don’t take it personally.”

“I’m going to take it personally.” He tells you, grabbing his towel and running back to the group of his lifeguard friends waiting for him, his feet kicking up sand in his wake. One looks over Felix’s shoulders at you, giving you a small wave before turning and heading up the boardwalk, disappearing from sight.

Alone on a beach that was once filled to the brim with life, it didn’t feel unusual anymore. The smell of salt was briny, you inhale it as you sit down in the slowly colding sand, arms coming to rest on your knees as you watch the waves crash into the beach.

This reminds you of your mother, though the beach was nothing like her. Comparatively, the beach was a monster against the soft embrace of your angelic mother. She had a smooth touch to her features, you remember, no matter how much older she got she was always so young looking.

“Hey Ma, I’m pretty sure you can’t hear me right now,” you tell the water, not bothering to see if anyone was around, “I miss you. A lot. I’m sorry I can’t come visit much anymore, I really want to though. I miss your vanilla perfume and your little giggles you made when I said something stupid.

Mortals moms are different than you, I think. There was a lady today that wouldn’t tell her kid she would protect him like you told me. He looked so scared, I wanted to just come down and tell her off like you would, but I don’t know how anymore. It’s so different. What if I said something wrong and I get sent back to Camp?” You shuffle slightly, sand shifting underneath you. You faintly smell her scent, smiling to yourself. “It feels like you’re here with me sometimes.”

You lay back into the sand, allowing the slight chill to envelope you. Your fingers lift, tracing the stars into fake constellations, naming them stupid names like ‘windbreaker’ and ‘waluigi’. It’s peaceful, serene.

Eventually you fall asleep, your hair splayed into the sand, a little crab sitting beside your face when you wake up in what feels like a two hour nap. You don’t remember falling asleep, nor do you remember hearing the crustacean scuttle over to you. It snaps its little claws, beady eyes boring into yours before it side-scuttles off into the water. You laugh, its way of walking was so funny to you, for no reason whatsoever.

Pulling your cell out, the time reading 4:21 am, you unlock it with a click and read the spam of messages from your worried flatmates.

From: bangin chan, 9:10PM - where are you?? felix called and said you didn’t clock out

From: bangin chan, 9:40PM - (y/n)! open your messages stupid

From: bangin chan, 9:45PM - i swear if you died im suing you rent is due in 2 hours and you do the transactions help

From: bangin chan, 9:46PM - you didn’t put any events on the calendar, what’s going on?? are you okay???

From: bangin chan, 10:01PM - (y/n) i’m going to file a missing persons report if you don’t answer immediately.

From: bangin chan, 10:11PM - im worried please, come home, if there’s an issue we can resolve it together, please don’t stay out this late without letting me know if you’re okay

You bite your lip, texting out a reply as carefully as possible. You didn’t want to worry the poor boy any further, he sounded like he was twenty seconds from an aneurism.

From: big bad bitch (y/n), 11:34PM - hey im fine, i fell asleep at the beach, i’m heading home now

From: bangin chan, 11:34PM - you salty motherfucker i was so worried i swear when you get home you’re grounded

From: teddy bear wooj, 11:35PM - my god he got so freaked out, we’ll have to call the station and let them know you’re okay

From: big bad bitch (y/n), 11:35 - i’m sorryyyyy, i’m heading home now.

From: teddy bear wooj, 11:35 - stay safe, i can’t afford to lose any more sleep because of chans worrying.

You stand up, brushing the grains from your swimsuit, shaking your head and hoping none of the sand falls in your eyes, making your way to your Jeep. A car you worked hard for, you smile at the little sapphire coloured sea glass dangling from the rear view mirror, a reminder of home that Chan had gotten you when you were going through bouts of extreme homesickness.

Chan was similar to you in the parenting type, his father also being a god. Having Apollo as a father though, would be much more stranger than your circumstance, because Apollo actually liked to visit his producer son. The tanned and well off music god would come down to give ‘pointers’—you preferred to call it rude criticism, even telling the god himself that he sounded like a jerk once—and Chan would always take the information as if the biggest highest man himself had told him to.

He wasn’t extremely popular—maybe because Apollo wanted him to make more harp-y old music rather than what was cool nowadays— but his music was well known to the locals, being played on the radio every blue moon. He didn’t mind the lack of popularity, in fact, he enjoyed it, telling you that “if I ever did become famous, I’d hate it. everyone would bother me and I wouldn’t be able to do anything anymore”.

Pulling into the driveway of your modernized flat, you parked the Jeep and grabbing your bag, heading up the sidewalk and moving to unlock the door, jolting when it yanked open to reveal a sleep-deprived Chan and a sleepy Woojin, both looking increasingly happy to see you as they enveloped you in a hug.

“Thank the gods, we thought you finally stuck it up to the man and got smacked into an alternate dimension.” Chan finally speaks first, releasing you and pushing you into the house. The smell of coffee comes to your nose, you realize Woojin had made some in an attempt to stay awake, despite needing to get up early tomorrow for his work.

“I’m sorry, Chan.” You tell him, giving both the boys hugs again before placing your bag on the floor. “It won’t happen again.”

“I hope not,” Woojin speaks, ruffling your hair, “don’t take it personally but I need to go to bed myself, I have work.”

“Yeah, go on ahead. I’m just gonna go take a shower and get the sand out.” You nod and wave him goodbye as he goes into his room, you following suit and heading into your own once Chan was done lecturing you on not answering your phone.

The shower water wasn’t as warm as you wanted it to be, but it got the job done. You ended up using the lemon scented soap, smelling like citrus pledge afterwards. Falling into bed, a faint smell of lavender laundry detergent lulls you to sleep, the dreamworld flooding into your vision like a crashing wave.

A man stands beside you, his body riddled with scars of what seemed to be different lengths, little risen patches of skin where they laid. You look at his eyes, seeing a pair of Aviators. Nothing apparently behind the glasses, you couldn’t even lean to see them.

He lifts his hand, holding it out to you. “Ares.” You pause, the name sounded familiar, almost resting on the tip of your mind on who it belonged to. You take it, shaking it firmly, it seems so real that you momentarily forget it was a dream.

“What can I do for you, Ares?” You ask, you just wanted to get the dream over at this point, the coffee restaurant you wanted to go to in the morning wouldn’t keep the early bird special up just for you.

“Find the old pearly man and tell him not to fuck up my bike with his stupid water.” He grunts, crossing his arms and fully turning to you, you see little orbs of what seemed to be fire behind the glass. Cool effect, you think. “I can’t keep getting Hephaestus to repair it, old man keeps complaining about me and his wife.”

“I’m sorry, how do you know Hephaestus?” You ask, suddenly your interest peaked greatly. He seemed mortal, though his aura was different from what you associated with mortals. What an odd dream.

“How do I know Hephaestus??” His voice raises a decibel in what seemed to be disbelief, his brows raising over the rim of his sunglasses. “Child, have you never heard of the god of War?”

You stop, your mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water. The man in front of you was the god of war, and you had forgotten him completely. At least it’s a dream, you’d never see the light of day again if it was real. He’d smite me instantly, you think.

“You did!” He frowns, adjusting his glasses as his brows settle back down, though the fire behind said glasses still roars. “My my, to think that my favorite niece forgot me.”

“I’m sorry, I don’t remember ever meeting you, Lord Ares.” You say, trying to basically suck up to him for forgetting. A little sliver of fear trickles into your mind, the skepticism of it not being a dream settling in. “and when was I ever your ‘favorite?’”

He pats your head as if he was the only adult, just playing along with the child who told him something that was obviously not true. “My dear (Y/N), all my other favorites died a long time ago.”

You recline back, slightly miffed at what the god of war had said. What type of person doesn’t carry a bit of emotion when talking about favorites, especially dead ones at that? You still get teary at the thought of your dead hamster, and he died twelve years ago.

“So, what did I need to get again?” You ask, still keeping your eyes off his face. You wouldn’t say you were scared, but you were scared.

“You don’t need to get anything, just tell your old man to calm his testosterone problems and leave my bike alone. You know how hard it is to get salted rust off metal? Very.” He tells you, his voice taking on a growl of indignation.

“I’m sorry to disappoint you,” you frown, wetting your lips before speaking again, “but I’ve never spoken to my dad before. Only thing I know about him is that he’s not very good at keeping his penis in his pants.”

“I don’t like him either, but don’t talk about your dad like that, he’s still your old man.” Ares puts his hand on your shoulder, patting it endearingly. You reminded him of his favorite kid, who always wanted to prove the good in him and clear his mother's’ past off his own slate. “Plus, he’s been taking it easy on you. Old Lightning doesn’t really like having the big Rule broken.”

“It wasn’t my decision to be born.” You tell him, trying to wake yourself up. You hated dream conversations, they went on forever until something bad happened. Something bad always happened.

“Yeah, I know. It’s no one’s decision, but you gotta live with it until Atropos snips your thread.” He seems reminiscent now, his little orbs of flame dim. Your vision finally clears fully behind him, a looming figure that could only be described as ‘oh hell’ coming closer and closer. You smell death somehow, the rotten flesh and burning skin creeps up your senses, clouding your mind. You want to escape, your odd dream finally spiraling into a nightmare.

“Don’t be afraid to will your death, child of Poseidon.” The darkness tells you, seeping into your heart and darkening the roots with whatever evil it possessed. “I will welcome it with open arms.”

“(Y/N), wake up.” Your body is shaken, your eyes snapping open to see a figure in the pitch dark, your mind telling you it wasn’t a dream and that all fighting senses needed to be engaged. The figure catches your arm as it comes to hit it, grunting as it holds you down. “(Y/N), it’s Chan - Chris, your roommate. It’s okay - calm down.”

You go limp, pushing your arms slightly against his hands until he lets go, finally deciding after a few minutes that you were okay to be free again. Your arms wind around his neck, chest heaving as you hold yourself against him.

“It’s okay, I’m right here.” He tells you, sitting you up and into his lap, running his fingers through your hair, little ‘shhs’ occasionally leaving his lips. You can’t speak, throat still cinched tight from whatever panic attack you were on the cusp of having. “You’ll be safe, okay? Don’t worry.”

“I - I don’t want to go back to sleep.” You choke out, face buried into his neck as you just try to calm yourself down, already failing miserably. If anything could describe (Y/N) (L/N), it’d be miserable.

“You have to, babe. You have work in the morning, you know? Gotta go save some little kids from tripping in sand and build sea castles.” He sounds calming, you find yourself beginning to relax with his voice. A gift he had, being as he was a child of Apollo, yet another sweet-talking god. He lays you back down, stopping when you grab his collar.

“Stay with me, just until I go back to sleep?” You ask, you don’t think you could bear another twenty seconds alone in the dark room. You can never recall having a fear of the dark, but suddenly all you can think of is the looming flesh-scented monster coming from the walls to suffocate you.

“Alright, Princess. Just don’t kick me too much.” He moves to your closet to grab a spare blanket, making sure that your blanket separated the two of you out of pure courtesy. Eventually you hear his breathing slow, and feel the rhythm of his heartbeat decline ever-so-slightly, you realize with a little thought that you wouldn’t sleep this night, not one wink.

Well I was right, you think, slipping out from under the covers. It couldn’t be past 5 in the morning, and you hadn’t slept a wink since 1. Four hours of staring at the ceiling and waiting for it to kill you. Karma, you suppose.

You pull yourself out of bed, catching the edge of Chan’s blanket before he tumbles off the edge with you. You feel bad for putting such a responsibility on him without explaining yourself, but how would you even?

Randomly telling your friend that you had dreams that were horrible enough to shake your core being, often climbing in their beds like a little child, something they came to realize very quickly.

You were a hotspot for monsters, often times getting into scuffles with them on the streets. No one dared to mess with you on shift though, since with all the activity you’d be able to spot them from a mile away. Let’s just say, your arm was impeccable. Perfect to a fault, nailing the dip between the forehead and the tip of the nose,

Slipping into a pair of swim trunks and a branded lifeguard shirt, you grabbed the duffel bag from the night before, packing it with the essentials, making it seem as if you were going to work for yet another day of boring mortal life.

Your bare feet hit the concrete, your car long forgotten about as you walk along the sidewalks of the streets, crossing only when needed. You stood in front of a separate flat, one you had learned a while back ago was owned by the ‘mortal’ lifeguard group, surprisingly - not really - also inhabiting a boy who seemed to have been crushing on you for years. Or at least, that’s what people told you.

He looks at you like he loves you. I can’t believe you aren’t dating him, he’s so handsome! Or the ever so popular one, if you won’t date the man who loves you, I will. You hated when people talked about him, because you hated commitment. The thought of being paired with someone romantically and being tied down made you practically squirm in discomfort.

Your knuckles curl slightly, eventually you press the doorbell, realizing you forgot to actually dress like you didn’t get stranded, especially since you were about to do something completely insane.

One beat, two, the door doesn’t open. You realize it’s probably extremely early, even for those in the home who have to wake up early to prep for the long hours that came with guarding citizens’ lives. A mop of orange-hair appears in the little window in the door, the door opening to reveal a bleary-eyed Felix.

“What the fu- oh hey (Y/N).” He corrects himself, standing straighter and carding his fingers through his hair to make it look better. “What brings you here so early? Did you go to your place yet? Chan was blowing up my cell earlier, says he was worried sick.”

“Yeah yeah yeah, I already got chewed out for it, don’t worry about him.” You shove your hands in your pockets, clearing your throat. “I actually came to invite you out early, the waves are really nice around this time and I figured I’d be nice to you for one day since you were, you know-”

“Worried about you? Isn’t that just common decency between coworkers? Plus, why be friendly now, you’ve already shut down any attempt I made for friendship with you.” He rubs his eyes, you catch yourself admiring the freckles dotted along his cheeks and nose bridge.

“Yeah, I know, I’m a complete ass. It was just a suggestion, I’m not forcing you to come.” You say. He was right, who gave you the reason to be friendly after hurting him so much?

He stares at you, it feels like year pass by before he heaves a sigh. “Wait for me, I’ll be back in a minute.” He shuts the door, you hear thumping as he disappears, coming back out and shutting the door behind him, a iLife branded bag slung over his shoulder and his work attire on.

The walk is awkward, to say the least, you can’t help but want to use the ‘break the ice’ websites strewn over the internet just to ease the tension that was between you, a taut rope that couldn’t even be cut with ceremonial scissors.

What would you even say right now? ‘Hey, sorry for being an ass?’ He kicks a rock off the path, his eyes staying away from yours. If it could get anymore awkward, now would be a great time, you think.

“Why did you invite me?” He finally speaks, the beach barely visible I’m the horizon. “What made you change your mind?”

“Because I felt bad for how nicely you treated me despite how mean I was to you.” You kick a pebble, watching as it tinkles onto the street. “I’m sorry for that, Felix. I truly am.”

“It doesn’t matter if your sorry, I just want to know why.” He sounds slightly annoyed, you catch the glinting in his eyes from the lampposts turning off, each light delayed from the one before it so it looked like a creepy scene from a horror movie. “Why did you hate me so much?”

“I didn’t hate you, Felix.” You don’t know what else to say, grasping for any straw you can to just make him feel better. That’s what you always did, because you hated hurting people. But it was what came with being a demigod, you couldn’t let people get.close with your life constantly under the blades of shears. “I’m- I’m not very, - ah fuck - I’m not good with people, especially ones like you.”

You notice the sand crunching under your shoes, slipping the flip-flops off and unlocking the lifeguard shed with your spare key. The door swings open, your glad for the little hanging bulb that kept it dimly illuminated.

“People like me? What the fuck, (Y/N), we’re the same type of person. Our skin might be different but our bones are the same.” He leans against the door frame, eyeing you like a hawk as you pull out two surfboards, already smoothed from one of the crew members the night before. He grabs your t-shirt, pulling you to a stop. “Quit avoiding my questions, please. You wanted to change how you treated me, but you’re still doing the same things.”

“I can’t just tell you, because then you’d be in danger too.” You stab the boards into the ground, making a plastic stonehenge-looking totem. “If I could, I would.”

“Let me protect you, as a friend.” He emphasizes friend, letting go of your shirt and grabbing his board, a sleek black with white and yellow shimmery glitter on the bottom. You note the lightning bolt on the top, putting it aside as one of those Chad type things. “I’m not asking for anything besides that, so don’t look at me like I’m insane.”

You blink, lifting up your own board. “Yeah, okay. I can do that.”

You couldn’t. You ended up stuttering a hell of a lot, making yourself seem like an idiot. You knew what happened to mortals who had their eyes cleared of the mist. You couldn’t bear to see him have the same fate.

“(Y/N)!” You hear a voice call, one deep and smooth. You turn, seeing the face of your beloved boyfriend, Han Jisung. A mortal, but you really liked him. Really really.

He swings his arm around your shoulder, his eyes shining with admiration as he pecks your forehead, nose, cupids bow, then lips. Its sweet, something you loved that he did. He never just kissed your lips. He called it phony, because everyone else did it. He always wanted you to feel special.

You remember grabbing his hand, twirling him around and smiling as he puffed his cheeks at you. He had forewarned you to dress nicely, grinning like a child during Christmas when he saw you wearing a black dress with little sunflowers covering it. You remember he told you how beautiful you looked, you even saved it and said ‘maybe I’ll wear it for our anniversary’. How foolish you were.

His hands intertwined with yours across the table as you talk about the stupidest topics, ranging from politics to how you wanted to spend your life later on. What schools you wanted to go to, what adventures you dreamed of travelling. You distinctly remember him asking you why you always were paranoid, catching your face and pressing a kiss to your cheek and lips as you left the restaurant.

He had led you to a park, one with different trees that smelled like lemons and sugar. Or maybe it was him, he always did use lemon scented detergent, and he did have a sweet tooth. You can’t remember exactly what you said, though you remember the night he gave to you. Slow dancing with no orchestra, led only by his humming and the thrums of your combined heartbeats.

He smiles at you, his little squirrel-like cheeks squished between your palms as he sways you about. “What were you going to say during dinner? It seemed important, love.”

You considered not telling him, though your teenage emotions and wanting someone to understand besides the people your mother bunked you with, you wanted someone you chose to be friends with to make you feel safe.

“Do you believe in gods?” You ask, twining your arms around his shoulder, pressing your lips softly against his chin, dropping back down onto your heels and letting him lead fully.

“Not really, but I think there may be one who decides fate or something,” his fingers found yours, intertwining them once again, it was countless how many times you held hands like such that night. “Why?”

“Okay, I’m probably going to sound insane-”

“When you you ever not?” He interrupts you, a little twinkle in his eyes as he searches your face. You laugh, recomposing yourself enough to form coherent sentences. “Sorry.”

“Shh,” you put your finger to his lips, giggling when he kisses it, “just listen. So, there’s such thing as gods, and they have children with like - humans, or mortals, whatever you prefer to call them. And like, that makes half-god and half-mortal, what we can call demigods for your convenience.”

“Right, hold up,” he says, releasing you and standing still, carding a hand through his hair. “Are you being serious, or pulling my leg.”

“Serious, now shush and let me finish, okay? It’s a lot, I know. Just let me finish, it’ll make a lot more sense.” You say, inhaling deeply before continuing, “and like, those demigods just kinda roam around? And there are monsters around, like Greek and Roman and Norse ones - depending where you live - and they kill demigods if human stuff doesn’t get to them first.”

“So why don’t humans - mortals - see them?” He looks at you partially like he’s been opened to an entirely new world, the other half like you had just asked him to spank you. Ridiculously. “What would it be where we live?”

“Greek, but it kinda touches a little bit of Norse, but that’s a different story. There’s this thing called the Mist,” you stop him before he can interrupt you yet again, “no, not like the movie. It’s something that makes mortals not able to see it because their minds can’t handle it.”

“So what are you?” He asks, you wrap your arms around his neck, leaning up to ghost your lips above his. “Otherwise the love of my life.”

“I’m one of those demigods, Ji. And I’m going to protect you from every little baddie that tries to take you away from me.”

You can’t remember much after that, the only thing left was you seeing him being torn to shreds by a siren who had caught him with their voice, your arms outstretched as you try to part the two. The bolt loading into the crossbow, firing, landing between the eyes of the siren in question. You hated your father, because that siren was the one sent by him to murder the love of your life, Han Jisung.

“(Y/N), I’m sorry.” He tells you, grabbing your hand from it’s occupation in the sand and squeezing it, the little grains of the beach transferring to his hand as well. “I really am.”

“Yeah, I am too. But I know better now, I guess. So that’s why I hate my dad, story over. What about you?” You can’t find the energy to remove your hand from his, it’s warm and soft, something you hadn’t felt from someone in a while. Even Chan couldn’t hold your hand for longer than an hour, and you lived with the man.

“I don’t know my dad, all I know about him is that he and my mom had a fling and then he ditched when his wife found out. My mom called him a sex god,” he shudders, “but said that I had a hell of a lot of siblings. I just figured she was bent over him or something.”

“Oh. What was your mom like?” You find yourself tracing little circles with your thumb on his hand, releasing and stuffing them in your lap. What the fuck is going on with me?

“She was really pretty, but a little bit wacko I guess,” he muses, “I didn’t really realize anything was different until I stayed over at a friend of mines’ house, his mom was like, a breath of oxygen after drowning, I guess? I don’t know.”

“Why do you talk about her like that?”

“Like what?”

“Like she’s dead or something, is she okay? Did you two have a fallout?” You can’t keep your mouth shut, like the little sewings have just ripped apart and your body was being controlled. Shut up, YN!

“She committed suicide six years ago.”

“Oh, fuck, I’m sorry.” You grimace, internally cursing yourself. Way to go, YN, with your big fat mouth. You’ve done it again.

“Nah, it’s all good. I got over it pretty quickly, considering there wasn’t much to get over.” He stands up, offering you a hand and tugging you up, catching you in his arms before you can stumble back down. He smells like lavender, and sugar. Sugar, a scent you hadn’t smelt in a while.

You tended to stray away from candy stores, just due to all the memories of you and Jisung that resided there. No matter how much you wanted to forget and move on, you couldn’t, not when he still occupied your drifting thoughts.

Boards in hand, sunrise in the horizon, you run to the water, kicking it up as you fight through the onslaught of waves to get to the good spot. That, being the best place to kick off and surf the best waves.

You give him a hang-ten, shouting something stupid about ‘RADICAL, BRO’, grinning when he lets out a loud laugh. No one else is at the beach, this was the quietest hour of the day. He shouts ‘BRO,’ earning yet another laugh from you.

It surprises you how well you can connect to him, eventually you can find yourself becoming comfortable with him. Every day you’d come to the surf spot, whether meeting up or walking together and just talking. Peeling lemons and sucking out the juice, seeing who could whistle the loudest or drink it the longest without making a face.

He quickly became your best friend, someone you confided in for almost everything. He saw what you saw, though you never could tell if he could before or not.

“(Y/N), check it out!” He calls you, your head turning to see him crouching on his surfboard, heading straight for a tube. He slips in, you can barely see his figure, until the wave crashes, no orange-haired boy in sight.

He’s playing a trick on me, you think. A bottle, decorated with a little sword design tells you otherwise.

No friends, no arguments. Tell your dad to knock off the waves, and I’ll give back the boy.

Fury. All you can feel is the anger beginning to course through your veins, you will not lose another loved one to the fucking gods of dicking around. Your arms slam into the water, boards left behind. You didn’t care about anything but Lee Felix, not the phone in your pocket or the probably going-to-have-a-heart-attack Chan. Chan could wait, safe and sound while you dealt with Ares, a man who seriously needed his ass kicked.

“Name?” A nereid asks, her lips curled like she was hungry for a snack and you told her you were appetizing enough for twenty meals. Go figure.

“Doesn’t matter, where’s old salt mouth’s underwater emporium?” You snap, bubbles coming from your mouth. A particularly harsh wave passes above you, he must have not liked that.

“Follow the pearls, don’t touch them. And don’t blame me when your in the Underworld for ticking off Lord Poseidon.” She responds, her voice little little breaking bells. You fight the urge to snap her neck from pure anger and frustration alone, deciding to just do as she says and reserve the bone-breaking destruction for the big boys. Namely, being Ares.

You hit a pearly orb, telling it to ‘wake the fuck up’. It vibrates, like one of those old phones that came off a dial. Chk-motherfucking-ching.

“Name?” It speaks, you nearly rip your hand away from it and vault away, instead fighting instinct and pressing your palms further onto it. It’s your mother’s voice, the sounds you yearned to hear again. You missed her, so so much. You can almost smell the vanilla and daisies from four miles underwater. The scent you associated with your mother, the gorgeous woman who protected you no matter the consequence. Who kept you sheltered from the life you were thrown into by your father.

You missed her, so so much. You can almost smell the vanilla and daisies from four miles underwater. The scent you associated with your mother, the gorgeous woman who protected you no matter the consequence. Who kept you sheltered from the life you were thrown into by your father.

“YN,” you breathe out, “LN YN.” Suddenly all you want is to be on land with your toes in the sand and your worries passing with the wind. The laughter of children filling your ears, instead of the wails of sirens and merpeople in the distance, and a missing best friend. All anger you formerly felt flooded out, like a balloon that had been let go. Whizzing around, releasing everything it has until it was a shell of its former self.

“Wait, YN?” A small transparent image parts from the orb, the image of your beloved mother. You reach forward, the hologram ripples at your touch, going even more transparent. “What are you doing here?”

“I miss you,” you blurt, fat and salty tears merging into the water surrounding you, “when can I come see you again, I want to show you everything I learned for you.”

“Oh honey,” her beautiful features shift, though she seems to forget she’s merely a hologram as she reaches to envelop you in a hug, her image becoming staticy as she pulls away, “I miss you too, I’ll be seeing you real soon, okay? Answer my question, alright?”

“Ares took my boy- best friend.” You catch yourself. Why would you claim him like that? Not even two months ago you refused to speak more than two words to him. “Ares is complaining about heavy waves that are , and the tides at the beach are becoming too rough. Someone needs to tell him his royal issues are becoming a problem for his other royal pains.” You justify, her mouth twists at your words. You think she’s about to tell you off, about how bad of an idea that was, yet she only motions to the next floating pearl.

“Follow the trail, and for the gods’ sake I hope he pities you on you as his child.” She shrinks back into the orb, you reach for her hand as a goodbye. “I love you dear, come home soon.”

“I will, Ma. I promise.” You paddle along, meeting different naiads and nereids along the way. Was your bubble supposed to run out before you met the almighty god of water? Was this a trap meant for you by Ares, the god of war and spite?

You swim, occasionally touching and orb to check if you were going the right way. A few recognize you, telling you look like your mother and saying the cliche “oh how much you’ve grown!”.

You can barely manage to push the pearl gates open, eyes roaming the coral palace with schools of fish and pods of dolphins swimming about. Your chest hurts, but as soon as your eyes skim over the twin statues adorning the entrance to the court, you suddenly feel invisible.

Arms slicing through the water, you feel yourself give way to the flood, anger coursing once again through your body as you see the *real* god, his self-righteous pompous ass sitting on a throne of coral and pearls, little clams resting on the arms of the seat, a trident resting across his lap like a tamed kitten.

“What now, nereid? Didn’t the new cove do plenty for you?” His voice booms, you resist the urge to give him the bird and instead choose to be 'respectful’. Or rather, as respectful as you wanted.

“Now listen here-” you jolt slightly when his eyes turn downwards to you, he seems as if he grew to the size of a hotel in New York. “Sir, you’ve been causing hella problems on the surface and my friend got taken because of you.”

“If you’re from the surface, then why are you here, mortal?” He asks, he looks amused but also curious. He must really not realize his child, apparently the only one for a good hundred years, tread before him.

“I’m your kid, Salt Face.” You snap, teeth gritting. “Doesn’t matter who I am, I just want my friend back.”

He examines your face, in the blink of an eye he stands before you, in human terms of height, adorning what looked to be like the 'recently divorced and thriving’ look. A pair of sandy loafers, board shorts with flamingos printed on them, and a button up peach tee.

“Don’t call me 'Salt Face’ again, or I won’t have *any* kids anymore. Come with me.” He lifts his hand, the sea blue trident flying through the water, nestling in his rough hand. His beard, you noticed up close, was more of a sandy yellow than a white, with little seashells buried around. Up close, he had a presence of the President, but the appearance of a friendly dad.

“Who has your friend?” He asks, passing through a quartz-coloured corridor, you take the time to admire the architecture, with pillars that seemed to go forever and massive carvings along the walls telling stories of battles with Titans and mortals, the amazing story of the salt spring and the olive tree.

“Ares, apparently. He took him while we were surfing, or had one of his lackeys do it at least. He told me to come tell you to stop the tides or something because he was getting his bike messed up. Something about rust and salt air messing it up.”

“Of course.” He turns to you, giving you a once over before grabbing your arm, practically throwing you to the surface. He follows, rolling his eyes as you pretend to drown, telling you to stop being dramatic.

For a second, you can see why your mother still loved him. He was handsome, more styled like one of the men from Teen Beach Movie, rugged but also smooth. Like the ocean.

You blink to rid your eyes of the salty air, tripping out when instead of ocean, you see what looked to be a torture chamber. Little plumes of smoke come from the edges of the walls, illuminating their areas momentarily before extinguishing the ball of light.

“Ah~ you brought old Salty here! Good job, YN. Very proud of you, dear. You’ve done great work for me!” Ares stands, his hands coated in grease, clapping.

“Where is Lee Felix.” You demand, ignoring how Poseidon looks about as frustrated as you. You hoped he’d give Ares a piece of his godly mind, but then again, he couldn’t control his own people either apparently.

“He’s in there, jeez. No love in your soul for your uncle, eh?” He seems nonchalant, much less like himself in the dream you had a while back. Dream, ha. More like a fucking LSD trip.

The door gives way easily, you can hear Salt Lord already giving LSD Demon a piece of his mind.

“Felix?” You call, all you can see is the outline of a figure and what seemed to be a knife, though it could always be some sort of accessory on the wall. The lights flick on, the body is Felix’s, though it feels different. His hair was faded, cut down slightly. His skin was paler, like he had seen a ghost. The giving factor, being his gaping mouth, and his chest not moving.

You lift your hand to his cheek, patting it gently, to no response. It was almost as if he was frozen in the spot, strange for his and your circumstances. You walk out, catching both of the gods’ eyes as you unsheath the little dagger strapped to your side, shanking it into the Ares’ palm.

“What the fuck did you do to him?” You all but scream, jerking back as Ares rears, examining his newly-injured palm. Golden-like blood falls from the wound, his eyes of flame finding your eyes, much less flame, but more fury to them.

“Why are you panicking, he’s at the bay just like you wanted.” His grin tells you to turn, be afraid. You fight instinct, the man couldn’t be completely honest now, especially out of earshot of one of the Big Three Gods.

“I don’t trust you.” You tell him, your mouth moving to its own accord. You just wanted to see Felix again, see his chest move as he breathed and his freckles that dotted the chubby cheeks he developed from your snacks. “If he isn’t there, I swear on Hades that you’ll regret ever touching him.”

Ares snickers, your fist shakes with the urge to just smack the unholy fucker in the nose. He takes your dagger from his palm, handing it back to you, streaks of ichor staining the steel blade. “You’ll need this.”

Your steps echo through the workshop, suddenly you’re standing on the bay, watching as Felix walks into the water, screaming your name. You run forwards, shouting his name. He doesn’t seem to hear you, and you realize why with a crushing heart.

Felix’s POV -

He didn’t know what he was doing, much less where he was going. All he heard was your voice, the sweet and soft laughter tinkling in his ears driving him to jump into the water. The water biting at his skin, he didn’t know what was going on. All Felix Lee knew to do was swim, to thrash against the current to find your eyes and know you were safe.

He couldn’t remember what happened between him going surfing in the barrel and him ending up sitting down in the sand, but he figured you might have dragged him back on land. It wasn’t like him to wipe out though, he had years of practice.

His shoulders ache, and he finally sees your figure. Silver-dyed hair slicked back, your hands beckoning him to come closer, your eyes turned into a full eye-smile, the same one he fell in love with.

Felix would never tell you his confession though, because he didn’t want to hurt you. Reading books from local libraries, mortals and demigods should never mix, just because they had so different lives to live.

On closer inspection, you - well, what he thought was you, didn’t look like you. It looked like one of those 3D printings, the same, but something was off. He figured he hit his head somehow, choosing to swim closer anyways.

Hands, grabbing onto his ankles, he suddenly can’t move. Breath quickening, he shakes his body, a thrash that looked like a fish tangled in a net. He kicks, punches, anything to get out of the vice-like grip that crawled up his legs, groping him, until it wraps around his waist.

Sudden realization, whatever looked like you, wasn’t. It was the thing that killed your first love. And now, it would get your second. He sees a figure on the bay, screaming your name. The thing responds back, it sounds like you, but he knows now it isn’t. It’s a lie. It’s a trap.

He feels angry. Why of all people to be trapped, it was him? Before he even got his first kiss, or even a date with you? Why did he so stupidly and blindly fall into a trap that was so painfully obvious? You hated being so far out, and you especially didn’t have a ‘tinkle laugh’. Your laugh was always so different from the other peoples’, that’s why he loved hearing it so much.

And now, his blind love would get him killed.

YN’s POV -

You can’t feel anything but rage, anger for what fate has brought to you. White hot rage, spilling from every crevice of your form, enough to stop the tide for a split second. Though you’re beyond furious, you can’t move. Panic begins to creep in, something you hadn’t had in a long time. Felix had always protected you from the pain, the scaredness that always followed you like snow in a storm.

You hear him scream your name again, this time your legs finally move. He’s closer to the thing, the siren who had led the pod. She looked like him to you, perhaps she was trying to get you, and he was there quicker. You don’t know how to get there, even with half-godly speeds you wouldn’t reach in time.

“Cover your ears!” You scream, darting for the dunes. You had buried your past there, you remember, a past you wanted to leave there and abandon, yet here you were again, back on square three.

You notice he does as told, yet he’s still thrashing. Seaweed wouldn’t catch him like that, but it seemed the head siren wanted to play with him a bit. Just like Jisung. They never wanted to just eat, fear made it better. Fear made their means so good they wanted more.

Hands digging into the sand, you look like a dog going for a bone, fingers pressing harshly against a steel object. You trace around it quickly, pulling out a crossbow, the same one you had failed to save Jisung with.

“YN, shoot already!” He screams, you can’t shoot, or it will hit him instead. His voice is thick with pain and fear, the poor boy had never seen such a terrifying creature. “Don’t care about me, shoot the thing!”

It’s jaws bite into his wrist, he screams in a pitch you couldn’t bear to hear, your senses going into overdrive, the siren works quicker, you raising the crossbow in it’s peripheral.

“YN, shoot, please!” Felix shouts, his voice is drowned out by the waves crashing, though it seems that the pod just lifts him above the waves. They’re toying with you, just like before.

Crossbow loaded, the bolt slides into its slotted place. You can’t aim, all the years of practice fly out the window as your heart breaks in two, the wails of the boy you loved flowing into your ears. The sirens mock him, screaming the same pitch with more enthusiasm. Sick bastards.

You see he’s bleeding now, but then you realize. You can’t move, for real. This isn’t panic holding you back, this is a cloaked figure with one hand on your aiming arm, and the other with it’s index finger in front of the bolt, preventing it from going far.

“Don’t change fate, child.” Its raspy voice tells you, watching the scene through the cloth covering its face. You jerk back, anything to revolt and just save Jisung. He didn’t need to die, especially not like this. “Don’t worry about his cause, he’s dying a hero.”

“He’s dying because of me, and I will not let him go out like this.” You snap, suddenly you can’t see. Pitch black, you can’t do anything, though you still feel the hand holding you from freeing your boyfriend.

“Do not be self-righteous, child, I chose his fate the moment his thread touched my hands. I knew, therefore he will be.” You realize who it was, Lachesis of the fates. The first Fate to ever come from the cove, especially to prevent a death. “Do not change fate, or it will have a nasty effect.”

“Am I at least allowed to slay the beast afterwards?” You hear Jisung scream, in such agony you find your body once again moving to its own accord, though your vision clears and now you see the siren and him, its ghastly ragged teeth buried deep in his neck.

His eyes stare at you, unblinking, though his emotions are obvious enough. You betrayed him.

“You may, child. And I hope you do not falter the second time, for he is your true soulmate.”

Your crossbow levels, no more resistance. You don’t care anymore, aiming it and taking fire.

It strikes the siren between the brow, it’s true form revealed. The same girl who had told you how to get the the castle releases Felix, her body falling backwards. The pod shrieks a horrible noise, grabbing her corpse and feeding. Your legs are already treading water, you must get to him.

His hand clasps yours, his lips pressing to yours momentarily before he begins tugging you, knowing that you had just faced your own demon, the past that haunted you. But now you realize, as you stumble back onto land, that you felt nothing about it anymore.

It was painful to live with, but now you had your own hero, who took away the pain and guilt you carried like a torch in battle. Lee Felix, the orange-haired man who annoyed you to no end, but was destined by the Fates that you would be held in his arms, and him in yours.

And you think, you must have slain an army in your past life, or maybe, you had just done the right thing, or maybe, you were just lucky. Really lucky.

Fin.

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