#I would go back in time to see the moon creatures sing their song

[frogteethblogteeth]

Costume design by Wilhelm (William Charles John Pitcher) for a character in the operetta Le Voyage dans la Lune' or A Trip to the Moon, 1883,1898, or 1910

[merakiui]

タコの花嫁。

yandere!azul ashengrotto x (female) reader cw: yandere, nsfw, non-con, unhealthy behaviors/relationship, arranged marriage, oviposition, breeding, royalty au note - in an effort to bring peace to two warring sides, you are engaged to the sea queen’s son.

If anyone is to blame for the abysmal diplomacy between the Land and the Sea, it would be your ancestors. Pompous and foolhardy, they thought they could rule the grand seas stretching out from the harbor, beyond weather-worn docks with their rotted, seaweed-strewn planks and briny fetor. The ocean was vast, unexplored territory—a dangerous, deceptive beauty harboring life far beneath unruly waves.

And your ancestors intended to claim it.

Sailors would recount tales of fishfolk—uncanny creatures who looked more marine than the two-legged mammals of the land. They’d raise mugs, each overflowing with ale, in drunken merriment, terrifying themselves with the mysteries of the deep, dark sea.

“It ought to give ya a proper scare straight to Davy Jones himself!” they’d say, voices lowered conspiratorially. “Soon as yer candle goes out and all ya’ve got’s the moon to guide ya… You’ll hear ’em slip through the water if yer listenin’ well enough.”

“You ever go and spy one up close?”

“I’d sooner see the Devil himself and let him keelhaul me before facin’ those cursed beasts!”

“The cut of their jib ain’t so pretty. Enough to give men like us a fright and we’ve seen all sorts of somethin’.”

“Monsters, I say! Monsters!”

Festivals were held to keep these beasts at bay—to prevent them from gathering the courage to creep up onto the land. Every year, during the summer solstice, pits were hollowed on the shore and bordered with stones. Flames licked towards the sky, red-orange fingers clawing for purchase amidst the stars above. Townsfolk would sing and dance late into the eve, bellowing songs passed through the generations. Children would skip up and down the beach, torches in hand, and cry out an old chant: “Fish for you and me are meant to stay in the sea! Should you see one on land, may the Heavens strike it down with a gentle, loving hand!”

Their excitement did well to ward off the fishfolk. Sometimes the lone child would spot one in the distance, peeking out from between the rocks before diving back under in a splash.

On land, humans were safe. On land, the fishfolk couldn’t catch them.

It was different in the sea.

Ships were destroyed in terrible tempests. The waves tossed them around as if they were nothing. Many sailors would find their demise at the bottom of the ocean, torn to shreds with shattered skeletons. Viscerally brutalized, they died with secrets on their tongues—secrets of the strange fishfolk who’d drag them down, down, down to a watery grave.

On one cold February afternoon, the octopus prince was brought into the world. In shadowed fathoms, a grand celebration was held. After so much time—misfortune after misfortune—one fry survived out of the entire clutch. He was round and soft and small, colored blue from exertion and fighting through the tug of the current to reach home. The Sea Queen met him halfway and embraced him, ecstatic tears in her eyes, for a mother’s love is stronger than any political power.

“My little Azul,” she said, stroking a hand along his cheek, “how precious you are.”

No ships were sunk; no lives were lost. It was a peaceful day for both the Land and the Sea. And it would continue to be so in the future. Every year on that same February, it was made a day of peace to honor the little prince.

A day of life, not death.

It was on that same February eleven years later when you were tossed into the frigid depths like a hatchling cast out of its nest. Similarly, your birth had been a wondrous occasion. Your parents brought five boys into the world, each just as adored as the last, but they had been hoping for a daughter. It was a miracle when their fervent wishes were finally granted. You were spoiled as all daughters often are, pampered and doted on by your family and the palace staff.

Your brothers, though protective and caring, were a troublesome and rowdy bunch. Kyffin was the eldest. Two years younger was Emyr, and another two years behind him was Owin. A year younger than him were twins Morcan and Martyn. They picked on you as all immature boys often do when caught up in sibling rivalries, aiming to be the only one their parents see. To prove themselves as the best, the strongest, the wisest.

So it was with a half-cruel heart that Emyr tossed you into the waves from where he stood in the rowboat.

“Only way to learn is with exposure!” he called down to you, watching as you struggled against the push and pull of the sea. 

“C-Can’t!” you shouted back, choking on salt and flailing about. “E-Emyr, I can’t—can’t swim!”

“Don’t be silly,” Owin added with a sweet smile. “It’s how we learned. That old sod threw us right in. You’re lucky it’s us and not him. He was awfully mean with it, wasn’t he?”

“Terribly so.” Emyr watched your struggling a moment longer and clicked his tongue. He held the oar out just before you could slip under, and you clung to it with shaky hands. “Come on—let’s get you up here. You’re not gonna get it today.”

“Fin got it on his first try.”

“Fin gets everything on his first bloody try.”

Relieved, your heart pounding like a drum, you peered up at your brothers. “I’m sorry I couldn’t get it…”

“Nothing to apologize for. You’ll get it one day.”

“We’ll keep trying until then. And once you do, we’ll throw you a big party.”

“Really? Will you really do that?” Your expression brightened, but your brothers’ faces darkened. They saw the shadow before you did. Saw the webbed hands reaching out, the serrated teeth glinting in a sinister smile.

And then—

Owin leaned over, his arm outstretched. So fluid was his motion that it took you by surprise. “(Name), grab on! Hurry! Before—”

The rest of his warning was muffled by the water. You hardly had any time to brace yourself when you were yanked under, your nails raking across the wood of the oar as you went with the force of the pull. Salt stung your eyes when you cracked them open, peering frantically at blurry surroundings. Teal-green specks slid silently through the shadows, mismatched eyes flicking over your form. And then there was a high, raucous sort of chittering. Like a dolphin’s cry, loud and piercing. You squeezed your eyes shut and pressed your palms against your ears.

It only lasted a few mere seconds, but it felt like an eternity trapped in the coils of a creature you couldn’t comprehend. One moment you were holding your breath and the next arms were hooked around your torso, and you were pulled up and into the belly of the rowboat. Your hands flew to your throat, and you coughed up seawater while Owin patted you.

“It’s fine. It’s…okay,” Emyr muttered, his voice shot through with fear. It was the most shaken he’d ever sounded.

Blood fogged in the water, staining the tip of his harpoon. He gazed down at his hand. A deep, jagged gash ran angrily from palm to wrist. He hissed and closed his fingers in a tight fist.

“We gotta get back,” Owin was saying, still rubbing soothing circles into your back. “I’ll row. You rest.”

“Not good,” Emyr said instead, shaking his head in dismay as he watched your attackers retreat.

“We’re still in our waters, right? We didn’t go past the boundary, did we?”

“Let’s hope not.”

“We didn’t, right?”

“Let’s hope—” Emyr paused, collecting his words. “Let’s hope those monsters were in the wrong.”

“Father’s gonna kill us.”

“If not us, the monsters.”

Both brothers looked towards you. Your tunic was torn, stained through with saltwater and blood. You shivered all the way to shore.

Following that mishap, an official meeting was called between the Land and the Sea. The King—your father—met the Sea Queen at the border. He stood proud on his ship, peering down at her with fire in his old eyes.

“Your Majesty.”

The Sea Queen was just as formidable as those who came before her. Her tentacles unfurled as one, and if you looked at them long enough they almost seemed to take on the shape of an obsidian-colored crinoline.

“I believe my mother and your father made the terms quite clear all those years ago,” she said, a wave lifting her to meet the King at the deck of his ship. “So then, with that in mind, there should be no reason for us to meet under these circumstances.”

Emyr and Owin stood just behind their father. You peered through their legs at the Sea Queen, silently amazed. You’d never seen anyone quite like her before. At least, not a real person. You’d seen her in storybooks, depicted as a fearsome beast with devilish features, and though there was something intimidating about her gaze and build she appeared understanding enough. Her grey skin was sleek in the morning sun, her long, silvery strands tied up and pinned with an ornate hair ornament. She looked beautiful in a magical, enigmatic way.

“I couldn’t agree more,” came the clipped response of your father. “Alas, misfortune has brought us here.” He stepped aside to allow her to behold Emyr’s bandaged hand. “Harm has befallen my son and daughter. I suppose you might have an inkling as to why they find themselves in their current state?”

She frowned, but you couldn’t tell if it was out of sympathy or some other emotion. “Perhaps one of them can give reason to the wound now marring one of my subject’s sons.”

Your father glanced overboard at the snake-like merman cradled in the arms of another merman. They looked near-identical, their features unmistakable. He glanced back at Emyr, his gaze hard. “Go on then. Explain yourself.”

Emyr stepped forward. “With wholehearted respect, Your Majesty, it was out of self-defense. Your kind—they attacked us first.”

“You were in our waters!” one of the mers exclaimed, pointing a clawed finger towards Emyr. “It’s all your fault Jade got hurt!”

Owin hurried ahead, his hands gripping the taffrail. “He’s playing it up! It was a graze!”

“He could’ve died! You almost killed him!”

“That is enough,” the Sea Queen said, jutting an arm out to silence both sides. “I understand everyone is hurt here. Our feud lies in misunderstanding.” She gazed at you next. “Little one, we have yet to hear your story. Do share.”

You glanced at the guards, at Owin and Emyr, and then at father. He nodded encouragingly. “U-Um!” Shyly, you approached the Sea Queen. “My brothers were teaching me how to swim. I don’t know anything about whose water is whose. I just wanted to learn how to swim.” You met the fierce scowl of the mer holding his twin brother and quickly looked elsewhere. “He grabbed me before my brothers could pull me up.”

“Because you were trespassing. Anyone who tresspasses ought to—”

“Floyd.”

At the not-so-subtle warning in his father’s voice, he shut his mouth and snarled. His brother—Jade—was handed off to their father, who assessed his state with a frown.

“He will live, but it will take time for him to recover. My son is right. Your son could have killed him.”

“Just as your sons could have killed my sister!” Owin shouted, glaring.

Floyd stuck his tongue out, remorseless.

“It is impossible to know which side is in the wrong,” your father began, turning towards the Sea Queen. “Seeing as both have been injured, I am willing to apologize on behalf of my sons.”

“What?!” Owin’s head turned towards his father. “You’re bloody mad! Have you not seen—”

“Father,” Emyr interjected evenly. “We have nothing to apologize for. We were within our waters. We had no ill will towards the others. It was completely innocent.”

The Sea Queen hummed her contemplation. “The boundary was drawn for a reason, decided upon by those who came before us, and yet it does more harm than good. It is not for safety’s sake. It is to keep us divided—to ensure that neither side will ever know peace.”

“And you’re implying that we get rid of it?”

She nodded, quite serious. Everyone looked on in equal parts shock and disbelief. “Why do we continue to fight? It does nothing but open old wounds, rendering them incurable. Innocent lives are lost in petty squabbling. And for what?”

To that, no one could offer a smart reply.

“Therefore I propose peace. A union to welcome a new era—one in which we embrace one another as allies without animosity.”

“A union?” Your father raised a brow, suspicious but willing to listen. “I suppose it would be beneficial. My people would be free to travel the seas at their leisure.” “And mine would no longer have to live in fear of being thoughtlessly slaughtered and taken as trophies.”

“Unbelievable,” Orwin muttered.

Emyr elbowed him. “Knock it off.”

“We’ll collaborate on a contract. One that dissolves the invisible boundary that has been the cause for so much suffering. In order to attain true peace, I shall offer you my only son.” She glanced at you and then back at your father. “Your daughter shall marry him when they are of age.”

“What?! No way! Ew! Gross!” Your voice came out shrill and you shook your head in protest. “I don’t wanna marry an octopus! No, I won’t do it!”

Your father stood in front of you. “She’s my only daughter. If something were to happen—”

“Which is precisely why I bring up this engagement. Should they be betrothed, we as their parents will promise to uphold peace to give them bright futures and they will act as the first example of a human-mer alliance. Unions between humans and merfolk are unheard of, but is this not the best way to foster harmony between the Land and Sea?”

“I won’t do it! No! Don’t make me marry a gross—” Emyr gathered you in his arms, holding his uninjured hand over your mouth.

“Let the grown-ups talk.”

Owin frowned. “I still don’t agree with this…”

Your father mulled it over, his eyes glazed in thought. “Very well. We will create a contract—an official peace treaty.”

Both leaders shook hands and planned to convene at the end of the week to discuss further.

You watched the mers depart, each one slipping under the sea. Floyd was the last to go, staring at you with a mean sort of vitriol. And then he, too, dove under.

“He didn’t mean it, right?” you whispered to Emyr after your father gave the order to turn the ship around and head for land. “I won’t have to marry an octopus, right?”

Emyr could only offer a commiserate frown.

“She’s a brat,” Floyd spits. “Stupid, evil Two Legs.”

Jade chuckles and runs his fingers over the scar. “I consider it an honor.”

“Yeah, well, I think it’s messed up. She’s the reason you can’t ever swim naturally again. While she’s up there in her pretty, little tower, safe and sound, you’re still hurting.”

“It’s not as much of a hindrance as you may think. I’m not weak, mind you.”

Floyd grumbles. “Still. She’s mean.”

Azul gazes up at the palace, sighing dreamily. “She’ll be my wife someday. That’s what humans call it, yes? Husband and wife… What wonderful words.”

It’s been one year since the peace treaty. Since then, humans and merfolk have made an effort to get along. This is the second time Azul will be meeting with you. He’s nervous. The first time you went out to sea to greet him, and he’d gotten so anxious that he inked right then and there. His mother entertained you from where you sat in the boat with your personal guard. It was a mortifying experience—one that had taken him months to recover from.

Now he’s going to try to meet you in the shallows. Try is the key word here. He’s scared, all three hearts beating as one. Is it too late to reschedule?

“I can’t believe you’re actually okay with this. You that lonely?”

Azul turns to scowl at both twins, but it’s mostly directed at Floyd. “I never asked you to tag along. Leave me alone.”

Jade smiles. “And let the Queen’s little prince swim to his death?”

“I can take care of myself.”

“Sure you can. But what about when Two Legs gets ya? What then?”

“She wouldn’t do that.”

Floyd rolls his eyes. “You saw what her brothers did to Jade.”

“Because you tried to kill her.”

“Because she was in our territory!”

Azul huffs and pushes him away with a tentacle. “Regardless, we’re supposed to be on good terms now. You’ll break the contract if you try anything dangerous.”

“He’s right, Floyd.”

“Ugh. Whatever.” Floyd turns away, stubborn. “This is lame. I’m not stickin’ around.”

Jade lingers long enough to observe the way Azul lights up when he spots you on the stone steps. And then he disappears beneath the water.

Barefoot, holding your dress up and out of the way, you pad across the beach.

“Why are you here? I’m busy. My brothers are taking me into town.”

The smile that had been fighting to break out on his face frosts over. “Oh. I… Um…” Azul fumbles with the conch shell he’d collected on the way here. A gift for you. He made sure to study human speech patterns in the months leading up to this meeting. He’s fully prepared! And yet you look so displeased. “F-For you! I found it…”

You stare at the shell clutched in a dark tentacle. Tentatively, you reach for it. “Why?”

“Ah. W-Well, my mother says gifts are an important part of any bond. In the sea, we give gifts to the ones we care about. To friends and family and o-other halves…”

You turn the shell over in your hands. “We’re not friends.”

“Not yet,” he tries, but you shake your head.

“You ran away from me the last time we met. That’s not very friendly.”

His face flushes blue and he opens his mouth to argue, but nothing comes out. It wasn’t on purpose.

You’re already turning on your heel. “I don’t have time for this.” You toss the shell over your shoulder. Azul watches it land in the sand, just out of his grasp.

“W-Wait! I… I want to talk to you. Please don’t go. You’re going to be my other half one day, so I’d like to—”

But you’re already dashing across the beach to get to the stairs.

Azul deflates against the rock. Tears overflow in floods. Is it because of him? Is he to blame? Why don’t you want to be his friend? Is it because of the peace treaty? Why?

Why? Why? Why?

Azul doesn’t want to think negatively of you. Humans are sensitive creatures. He reads up on them in the palace library, poring over literature and textbooks in an effort to better understand you. But as the months pass and you seem to simply tolerate him for the sake of the alliance, he begins to suspect something.

It’s made apparent the next time he sees you, where you walk right past the beach to catch up with your brothers. He hides behind the rocks, two blue eyes following your figure until you’re out of sight.

Floyd was right. You are a brat.

And yet he can’t hate you.

On the eve of your eighteenth birthday, Azul meets you in the shallows.

Nowadays you send letters, preferring strained long distance over the personal intimacy of face-to-face relations. These exchanges are purely diplomatic. But now that he’s asked to meet with you, a rare occurrence, you’ve deigned to greet him in person. It’s the least you can do after he’s gone through the trouble to travel here. It’s been so long since you’ve seen him that he’s almost unrecognizable. You remember the round, baby-faced octo-mer from your childhood. The one who lounges against the rocks is leaner now—his features defined, jawline as sharp as his eyes. They cut through the gloom to find you.

“You wished to see me?” You’re in your nightwear, a silky gown with an even softer robe. A cool breeze blows across the beach, and you wrap your arms around yourself for extra warmth. “Azul?”

He hesitates, his gaze trailing up your legs. You’ve also changed a lot in the time you’ve been apart. You’ve grown taller, filling out in places he didn’t know humans could fill. What he’d give to hold you… His mother says he needs to be patient. Fickle thing that you are, you’re the reason he’s spent six years trying to appease you through letters—to win you over and be anything more than that “annoying octopus” you’re doomed to marry. Perhaps it would have been easier to act just as you do if it weren’t for the fact that he’d been elated at the premise of having someone to love. When his mother broached the idea in the days following her meeting with the Land King, he’d stared at her with wide, excited eyes.

“There’s a human girl who wants to be my friend?” he asked, to which his mother smiled and nodded.

More than a friend, actually, but then all he was focused on was finally getting to experience the one thing he’d never known or had: friendship.

Sighing, he foregoes formality and holds out a necklace. It dangles from the tip of his tentacle. Strung on a dainty, silver strand, pearls wink back at you under the moonlight. Azul averts his eyes, his cheeks a pleasant periwinkle.

“Happy birthday…”

“Oh.” You move in closer, taking the necklace from him. His tentacle pursues you, twining delicately around your wrist. “Um… What is it? Do you need—whoa!”

Azul tugs you closer. The sea laps at your ankles. Beneath a tapestry of stars, you meet his azure stare. His features are set with a determination you’ve never seen before.

“I want to start over.”

“Start over?”

“I’d like to be on friendly terms with you. We’re so cold. Distant…” Azul frowns, seeming unsure of what to say or do next. The tentacle laced around your wrist like a bracelet tightens its hold. “We’re to be wed one day. I want to make this work.”

You blink at him. He thinks he may have gotten through to you, having finally broken through layers of stone and ice, but then your nose scrunches and odium shimmers in your gaze.

“That’s impossible. I’m a human. How am I supposed to live with an octopus?” You shake him off with a huff. “I’m not sure what our parents think this will accomplish. I don’t want to be a pawn to be moved around for the sake of peace. I’m my own person.”

Azul’s expression sours. His lip curls up into a sneer. “Well, I don’t find it very enjoyable either. You’re not the only victim in this scenario.”

You exhale an exhausted breath. “Azul, I appreciate the gift, but it doesn’t mean anything if you’re only giving it to me to curry favor.”

I wasn’t, he thinks, but he doesn’t say that. Admitting it would be a weakness. Admitting it would mean coming to terms with an unrequited opinion.

“At least one of us is making a conscious effort.”

“At least one of us isn’t trying so hard. It’s pathetic.”

“You’re not obligated to accept my goodwill.” He smiles, smug. “Yet you do every time. I’d wager you enjoy my materialistic affections.”

“As if.” Despite this, you hold the necklace out of his reach when a tentacle flexes towards it. “It’s mine now.”

“So you are fond of my ‘pathetic’ ways!”

“I’m not!”

You jerk away with a vicious scowl, but your foot catches in the sand and you quickly find yourself tipping backwards. If not for the tentacles that coil around your waist to steady you, you would have fallen on your rear. Your chest heaves with adrenaline. Stunned, you stare at Azul.

“You…caught me,” you breathe, lips parted in awe.

“Did you think I’d let you fall?” He cocks his head at you, grinning playfully. “Why, I’d never! Unless it’s me you’re falling for, in which case I gladly welcome the—”

“You’re such a pest.” Untangling yourself from his grasp, which he allows without scrimmage, you step away from the water’s edge. He watches you secure the pearls around your neck, and his hearts stumble in his chest when you point an accusatory finger at him. “Don’t delude yourself with foolish nonsense. I have no interest in you.”

With an indignant harrumph, you start towards the palace.

“May we meet here tomorrow?” Azul calls out after you, testing his luck with what little chance he has.

“Don’t push it.”

“I’ll wait for you.”

“Good. Keep waiting, dummy!” You break into a sprint, hurrying off into the shadows.

Azul smiles at the empty beach. Whether or not you like him, it doesn’t matter. You’re to be his one day. You’ve always been, ever since he was eleven.

He’ll wait, even if you won’t show.

Ostensibly, twenty-one years wise, you’re getting married today.

Your gown is just as exquisite as your hair and makeup. Pearls cling to your throat and arms—classic wedding attire for merfolk. A thin veil shields the scheme in your stare.

This was an inevitability, but you’re determined to fight it until the end. No matter how quickly time seems to pass, you’ll do everything you can to stall and slow it.

Gripping a sharpened dagger in a resolute fist, you drag it through the long, sprawling train of your gown.

“As if I’d marry an octopus,” you grumble, cutting fine fabric until you’re permitted smoother movement. Gazing at yourself in the mirror, you scowl. “I’m no one’s bride.”

By the time the maids arrive to check on you, you’ve already stolen out the window.

The rowboat sways on choppy water. You’ve watched your brothers do this enough times to have the technique engraved in your memory. Your arms strain with the oars, every muscle screaming in protest, but you fight through the pain. The palace looks smaller and smaller with every passing minute. Eventually, you’re so far out that the land is but a mere speck.

It’s going well. You’re escaping towards a better future—a future without the octopus prince.

You glance towards the horizon. Your boat undulates with the waves.

You’ll miss your brothers, your maids, your personal guard…

Water slops over the edge. You yelp, startled. Have the seas always been so rough?

Despite everything, you’ll miss your father.

Just as you think this, your boat rocks to the side. You grab onto the edge to steady yourself, but it’s already too late. It tips over and you go with it, careening into the sea with a noisy splash. Twin shadows cut seamlessly through the murky water. You catch sight of a yellow eye before you propel yourself towards the sky, coughing and heaving once you break the surface. You grab onto the overturned rowboat, your dagger clutched in one hand.

You search the surface for them, eyes flicking to and fro in a frantic panic.

Somewhere… Anywhere… Where are you?

And then you find them, peering at you from the other side of the boat.

“Go on then,” you spit, glaring. “Kill me.”

Floyd bares his teeth at you. “This time I ain’t gonna leave a scar.”

“You know we mustn’t. That’s not why we’re here.” Jade smiles at you, but there’s something in his eyes that unnerves you. “Your Highness, you should know it’s poor manners to leave the groom on his special day.”

Floyd circles you restlessly. “S’not fair we gotta be nice when you’re so mean.”

“I’m not going to marry him.”

“I’m afraid you don’t have a choice in that matter.”

“What’d Azul ever do to you?”

You attempt to answer that before realizing the truth. Nothing. He’s done absolutely nothing but be kind and understanding and patient. And I took that, chewed it up, and spat in his face.

“If you used that brain of yours, you wouldn’t have thrown yourself to the sharks. We can’t get to you on land.” “But it’s fair game in the sea,” Floyd finishes, every syllable dripping with pride. “Stupid Two Legs.”

“I’m inclined to agree. You’re not the brightest human. A pity.”

“My brother should’ve gutted you when he had the chance. Maybe then—”

You see the whites of Floyd’s eyes when he strikes, launching himself at you with a clawed hand, sharp, pointed teeth aiming for your jugular.

This is it. You’re dead.

…or not.

The searing pain never comes, nor does the impending laceration. You cling to the boat and watch dark tentacles rise from the depths to close around Floyd, ensnaring him in a firm hold. He thrashes, snapping his jaws like a deranged beast.

“Let go of me, Azul! Lemme at her! She’s a bitch! I’ll kill her!”

“There will be none of that.” Azul tuts. “I don’t intend to marry a corpse.”

Jade swims over to you. “My feelings aren’t hurt in the slightest, Your Highness. If it weren’t for your status and connection to Azul, I’d have disemboweled you ages ago. Quite a relief for you, yes?”

You swallow your horror, allowing him to detach you from the boat so that Azul can turn it over. A tentacle curls around your waist, lifts you from the water, and places you back in the boat. You stare at your hands. They’re trembling. You can hardly hold the dagger properly.

It takes some convincing and a lukewarm apology from you, but Floyd promises to be good. He doesn’t do anything as you’re pulled back to shore, but he does stare at you for the duration of the trip, his eyes tracking your every movement. You press yourself into the belly of the boat, defeated and riddled with anxiety.

Your father isn’t pleased. When you see his enraged expression, the debate dies on your tongue. “You are to marry the prince,” he seethes, pulling you aside, “or else you jeopardize the peace of our kingdom.”

You’re washed and fitted in a new dress. Guards are stationed at all possible routes to prevent another escape.

When you walk down the beach to meet Azul in the shallows, your veil shields the sadness in your stare.

The ceremony carries on without incident. Floyd watches from the water, lurking like Death. You speak rehearsed vows in robotic monotone, mindlessly floating through the rigmarole like it’s second nature. Azul smiles at you through it all, sweetly smitten.

It’s a nightmare lived in real time.

Humans and mers alike congratulate you, cheering for this momentous occasion. Your tongue is numb by the end of it all. You’ve expressed faux gratitude so many times that it hurts to even force the words. And now, as night descends and the party kicks into full swing, you’re left reflecting on the day.

Freedom feels so far away. You’ll never know it again, will you?

Azul guides you away from the crowd. Firelight grows dim with the distance. Eventually, you find yourself taking refuge in a tiny inlet cut into the beach. A rocky outcrop hides you from the moon’s spotlight.

“I’m not upset,” Azul murmurs, curling a tentacle up your leg. “But Floyd is.”

“His brother’s the one who hurt me all those years ago.”

“That was before the union.”

“I’m not letting it go.”

“Perhaps not now, but you will. One day.”

You don’t believe him.

“Our people are at peace. Aren’t you pleased, my love?”

You shove him away, gathering heaps of your dress to walk in calf-deep water. “I’m not your love.”

“Legally, you are.”

“That means nothing to me. Absolutely nothing.”

Azul sighs. “Even now, after everything, you’re still trying to flee.”

“For good reason. I don’t want to be tied down.”

Azul inches closer. Another tentacle wraps slyly around your ankle.

“You’re so beautiful. I feel like the luckiest mer in the sea. To be able to call you my own… My beautiful bride.” He pulls you closer. You resist weakly. “Now that we’re alone I can finally tell you the very thing I’ve thought of ceaselessly for years.”

A tentacle slides up your leg, straying closer to your inner thigh. You flinch away.

“Azul, wait. I don’t want—”

“I love you.”

You squirm in his hold, attempting to thwart the tentacles that grab at your every limb. You trip over yourself in the process. This time Azul doesn’t catch you. Water laps at your dress, soaking through at once. He’s radiant beneath the moon. Dreading his touch, you scoot as far from him as you can get in the water, hoping to reach land. Azul seizes your wrist and pulls you into his arms. You fight him with more force.

“No… No, let go of me! Release me!”

“Why should I? You’re mine now. Is it not customary for a married couple to consummate their new bond? We do something similar in the sea.” A tentacle brushes your veil back so that he can look upon your pretty face. “I’d take you to a quiet space in the seagrass, lay you down in the sand, and then—”

“I don’t want that! No!” You lash out, swinging blindly. A tentacle shoots out to stop your arm before it can smack him. “Azul, please—”

“I was patient. I waited and waited in hopes that you might warm up to me. I cherished you in silence. I learned your language. Your customs. Your habits. I wrote to you. Traveled to meet you. And yet you look at me as if I’m a monster…”

It’s not the devastated look in his eyes or the edge in his voice that scares you. It’s the startling gentleness with which he handles you. Tentacles loop around your body, exploring beneath your gown. You wriggle in discomfort, yelping when suckers brush against the frilly garter secured around your thigh. Azul hums and holds you up in his tentacles, using two to spread your legs so that he may slide it from your leg.

“I wasn’t forceful. I courted you kindly. You accepted all of my gifts. You wore them proudly and I thought—I knew you would love me, too. You were mine from the moment our parents signed that agreement. And if you leave me, you’ll break a political promise and then our kingdoms will go to war and I’ll be sure to collect the heads of your family first. Each one of them, and you will watch as I bring ruin to the kingdom you love so fondly.”

“N-No… Please stop. Please.”

“I’ve waited ten years for you.” A tentacle hooks around your panties. You thrash again, shaking your head at him. He remains unconvinced, watching with gleeful eyes as your nudity is revealed to him. “And aren’t you an angel? Oh, you’re so pretty…”

Like your hopes, your panties are cast aside.

The tip of a tentacle prods curiously at your pussy. Your breath hitches.

“W-Wait! You… You can’t.” His eyes find yours, and you swallow the rising sob. “T-That can’t go inside… It won’t fit. It won’t—”

Azul smiles. “Of course it will. The human body is capable of marvelous feats.”

Even though it’s pointless, you struggle. “I can’t! Please… Azul, I’m scared. Please don’t do this…”

A lone tentacle slides into your hand. Thoughtless, you hold tight.

“My love, there’s no need to cry. I’m not going to hurt you.” He brings you closer, kissing your tears away. “I’m here for you. I’ve always been here, even when you didn’t seem to need me.”

You hiccup, your chest heaving. It’s not lonely for long, for he pulls your dress down your shoulders. Your breasts spill free and are quickly cradled in cold hands. Azul watches your expression with an intense focus while he rolls your nipples between his fingers. You grit your teeth, refusing to respond. But then the tentacle between your legs finds your clit and a sucker affixes to it, suctioning slowly. You gasp and throw your head back, bolts of pleasure racing up your spine. It happens in a white-hot flash. You slacken in his grasp.

Azul laughs, astonished. “Did you cum? Already?”

“Nooo,” you whine, closing your hand around the tentacle once more. Another one strokes your cheek. “You’ve had your fun. Now let go of me…”

“What a silly demand.”

He tugs on your nipples. You groan, lashes fluttering. “Ooh… Stop. No, stop it… Don’t touch there. Not—haa… Not there!”

“You’re so sensitive.” He drags the underside of a tentacle along your cunt and shivers. “And so wet… Is this your season? Do humans experience such a thing?”

You’ve no idea what he’s referring to, but before you can dwell on it he leans down to take your perky bud in his mouth. Your free hand grabs at his hair, pinning him to your chest. His tongue laves across it, warm and wet. You shouldn’t enjoy it so much, and yet you can’t stop yourself from crying out.

He hums against your skin, beaming like a devil. You can’t hate him. He’s your husband. He’s yours. You shouldn’t hate him.

You’re falling apart in his tentacles, grinding down to chase the bliss provided by the underside of the appendage clinging to your pussy. The sinful squelch of skin on skin fills the quiet inlet. The scent of sex and salt intermingles. It’s wrong and it’s right. It’s instinct, carnal and corrupt. Azul groans against your breast, your teat between his teeth.

“Az—ooh!” You tug on his hair, insatiable. Your brain is fogging over with lust. You don’t want to lose yourself in this madness. You can’t. “N-No more… No more.” 

But he’s not listening. He pinches your other nipple between his fingers, and that’s all it takes for you to unravel.

In the aftermath, the tapered tip of a thicker tentacle squirms between your thighs. Mindlessly, you spread your legs and lift your hips for him. It presses in shallowly, a jarring experience.

“Not inside—don’t! You can’t!”

Azul pulls away from you, his expression scrunched in woozy ecstasy. “Why not?” he mumbles, smiling stupidly. “You’re my bride. It’s only fair…”

Before you can bicker, he kisses you. His tongue pursues yours in a sloppy tango. You lick into his mouth, desperate and dazed. Lost in a sea of salacity, shipwrecked on an island of forgotten inhibitions.

The tentacle pushes through rings of tight, slick muscle. Tears spring to your eyes. It feels weird and foreign, so unlike your fingers. He holds you close, minding his strength and pace. It fills you slowly, reaching places you’ve never been able to feel. The lust numbs your senses and gives way to something animalistic—a base desire you’ve suppressed. Azul rocks the appendage deeper until it’s pushed up against the entrance to your womb, squeezed snugly in your warm walls.

“I-It’s in…” you mumble once he’s broken the kiss, a strand of saliva connecting your mouths. “It’s really…inside me…”

Azul kisses your cheek and pets you with a tentacle. “We were made for each other.”

Surely not, you think, but it feels so when he draws back and thrusts in. Maybe he’s right.

He fucks you gently, savoring every single sound you make. He tells you he loves you, whispers it over and over like it’s prayer. You nod dumbly, grabbing at his hand to hold it. The both of you are gasping in unison, chasing cloud nine. In just a few more deep strokes, his tip bullying its way to your womb, he finally finds his end. A thin substance fills you up in plentiful amounts. Distantly, you think it’s water until he drags your hips further down. Your mouth drops open in a strangled scream as something round and gelatinous passes through. It settles in your womb, and you know right away that it shouldn’t be there.

You panic. “W-Wait… Wha—Zul… Stop… No, I don’t want—”

“It’s all right,” he breathes, his mouth on your shoulder. He soothes you with soft shushes and even softer kisses. “You’re okay. I’m here.”

You dig your nails into the tentacle curled in your palm just as a second orb squeezes through. He groans, his eyes squeezed shut.

“Finally…” He pants, a wobbly smile stretching on his delirious countenance. “Finally, my love, my dear—oh, my beloved bride!”

He cradles you like a mother would a newborn. You lie there as he fills you, your voice hoarse from babbling and bewailing. These things—little orbs of jelly—are stuffed into your womb, and by the time you surpass twenty you lose count and blank out, trembling through yet another orgasm. You’re not sure how many more he has left or how many more you can possibly fit. It feels too good to think about that.

“Bigger. They’ll get bigger. You’ll look so pretty—round and full and soft.”

Dizzy, you glance at the bloated dome that is your belly. Your gown strains over it, an impressively deceptive size that you almost mistake for pregnancy. That’s when it clicks. Eggs. These are eggs.

“I’ll make sure they survive. All of them—as many as I possibly can. I’ll stay by your side. I’ll keep you content. I’ll fill you with love—so much love—an abundance of it, and you’ll never know emptiness again,” he rambles, resting a tentacle over your distended middle.

It’s not just a senseless sweet nothing. It’s a promise.

[ecle-c-tic]

Middle Earth Asks

🥔 po-tay-toes: one of the hobbits invited you for a meal; who are dining with? Which of the seven meals are you enjoying?

🍞 lembas bread: what's the best road trip snack?

🌾farmer maggot's field: what is your favourite plant? Do you enjoying gardening?

🌼 simbelmynë: You've got the opportunity to bring one character back to life, who is it?

🍃 leaves of lórien: what gift would you most like to receive?

📽 action!: rank all six of the films (or three if you're a hater)

🚲 bicycle basket: what is your favourite middle earth meme?

🌟starlight: you're allowed to live in one of the Elf Kingdoms of Middle Earth, which one are you picking?

💀 Hey, did you know-: What is your favourite piece of behind the scenes trivia?

🌙 moon runes: which of Tolkien's languages would you most like to speak?

🧂 best salt in all the shire: which small joys do you most look forward to? (particular tea, using a perfume, rereading a book, etc.)

✂ cutting room floor: of all of the things that didn't quite make it into the movies, what would you have most liked to see?

☕ may I tempt you with a cup of chamomile?: What is your favourite hot beverage?

🐎 bill the pony: who is the best mount in all of middle earth?

🌳 fangorn forest: Which of Tolkien's creechurs is your favourite?

🔮 palantír: you've found a palantir! Who are you hitting up in middle earth? What are you telling them?

⏳ time and age: which poorly aged scene from LOTR is your favourite?

✨ evenstar: Who is your favourite middle earth couple?

🎆 fireworks: you're invited to Bilbo's 111th, what present do you think you'd receive?

🕷 creepy crawlies: which of tolkien's creatures do you think is the most frightening?

💍 my precious: what role do you think you'd play in the fate of the ring?

📜the company of Throin II Oakenshield: who is your favourite dwarf from the company?

🕶 i care not: what common complaint about the movies or novels doesn't bother you?

📢 motivational speech: which film speech do you find most invigorating?

🔥 barbecue: who is the worst antagonist?

🍿 popcorn: list your top 5 supporting characters

🎇 firefly: which (known) deleted scene would you most like to see?

⛏ expedition to Moria: which side character's adventures would you watch a spin-off movie about?

🎞 extra film: is there an extended scene that should have absolutely made it into the theatrical cut? which one and why?

🎵 can you sing, master hobbit?: Which song (from books or movies) is your favourite?

🖋 quill and ink: which of tolkien's themes resonates most strongly with you?

🗝 lost heirloom: which heirloom/object in the films or novels would you like to learn more about?

💿 leitmotifs and orchestras: which of the films songs (Howard Shore or singer) is your favourite?

🍲eowyn's home cooking: which other way could the ring be destroyed? (funny answers only)

🧙‍♂️precisely when he means to: what is your favourite gandalf moment?

⚔ you have my sword: what is your favourite aragorn moment?

🏹 and my bow: what is your favourite legolas moment?

🪓and my axe: what is your favourite gimli moment?

🍄 MUSHROOMS!: what is your favourite moment from the hobbits?

💎 the arkenstone: favourite Thorin and/or company moment?

🧵 spool: list your top five favourite costumes from any of the films.

📕 the red book of westmarch : what is your favourite quote(s)?

💛 family: what is your favourite family moment throughout the novels/films?

👀 the eye of sauron: who are you looking at disrespectfully?

🗺 arda: if you could travel anywhere in middle earth, where would you go?

👑the silver crown: the war is won, the world is saved, the king has been crowned. Who are you partying with at the coronation?

✏ rewrites: here's a pencil, which ONE thing in the novels/films are you changing?

🐺 GROND GROND GROND: which of the battles is your favourite to watch? is there a combat scene in particular that you enjoy?

⚠ fucking buckleberry ferry: from the clip of Dom and Billy discussing the one swear word they could theoretically get by censors, which line would you change?

📚 boxset: how were you first introduced to Middle Earth?

🏔 the misty mountains: the pass is treacherous, which two characters are you taking with you to make it over the mountains?

🌄 the rolling hills of the shire: what is your favourite outdoor activity?

🌋 mount doom: what middle earth take are you throwing into the fire?

⚙ technology: everything is exactly the same but you can give one character a modern invention. Who is it and what are you giving them?

⛵valinor: we're approaching the end of this game, is there a take/opinion you absolutely want to share?

🦅 the eagles: What thing or thought saves the day when it's not going so well?

🦗 weta: you're allowed to take one prop (or the canon useful version) home with you from the set, what are you taking?

☀ when the sun shines it will shine out the clearer: either share a piece of good news or something you're looking forward to.

📖 final chapter: what unanswered questions do you have middle earth?

[upsidedownwithsteve]

Remus Lupin x fem!reader [2K] protective!you, soft!Remus

Honestly, Remus should’ve seen it coming. You were never one to back down from a fight and the whole reason he was missing from class that day was the same grounds for your eventual argument. 

Professor Marigold had spent the best part of Care of Magical Creatures explaining moon phases and the effects each stage had on lycanthropes. You had been sitting between James and Sirius, squished in the middle as they doodled on their book margins, not really listening. Because, well, they’d had some first hand experience, hadn’t they? Which is why the professor was so surprised when she called on Sirius and he answered correctly, barely looking up. 

You were more on edge than the boys, wishing you’d skipped with Remus, wondering if he would’ve let you hide out in the boys dorm with him, sharing James’ hidden stash of Honeydukes loot everyone knew he kept at the bottom of his trunk. You spent most of the class eyeing your fellow students, Gryffindors and Slytherins divided in rows of three, sometimes four, a neat separation of red and gold, green and silver. 

You wondered if someone would say something, you wondered if someone would sneer, if they’d pull a face at the sketching of a werewolf in the textbook, if they’d shudder in fear or say something awful. It was silent as Professor Marigold spoke about the ramifications of being bitten, the changes the host went through each lunar cycle. You hated the word, ‘host’. It sat bitterly at the back of your throat and you changed it to ‘person’ when scribbling down your notes, more messily than you’d usually be. 

You felt Sirius watch you, dark gaze lingering on the way you sat up too straight, how your shoulders were tense and unyielding when he brushed against your own. If the boys shared a look over your head, well, you didn’t notice. 

Class was almost over, in fact, you were only mere minutes away from the finish line. But then a Slytherin you didn’t know the name of narrowed her eyes and said something you only just heard, a scorned hiss of:

“…the Ministry should do something about them. They’re a danger to everyone. Full moon or not.”

James’ hand found your knee before you could stand, nostrils flaring and heart pounding, but his touch kept you in your seat. You stared at him, wondering how he could remain so calm but he merely shook his head, subtle and soft. Knowing. 

“S’not the place,” he whispered, still bent over his own notes. “Don’t get yourself into trouble, sweetheart.”

Then class ended and it was fine until it wasn’t. 

The same Slytherin student was lagging behind you as you all made your way back to the castle, morning dew dampening your ankles as you all took a shortcut over the grass. Sirius was singing a song you didn’t know under his breath, James was still trying to stuff his book into his bag and the girl behind you was too fucking loud. You heard the way she gasped and cried out, all horrible dramatics as her and her friend spoke about the recent class subject. 

“I mean, really,” she intoned, walking closer and closer. “It’s not like they can live normal lives, can they? They’re practically monsters, I don’t see why they’re allowed to walk around freely like they have the same rights as—”

You spun, wand drawn, clenched tightly in a white knuckled fist that you barely managed to keep lowered by your side. 

“Well, that actually took longer than I thought,” Sirius mused quietly, stopping beside you with one arm across your chest, holding you back from making any other unwise decisions. “Settle yourself, darling.”

“You have no idea what you’re talking about,” you ignored the boy and spoke to the girl, brows stitched together as you tried to work out if you were going to cry or yell. Maybe both, perhaps at the same time - your chest was burning, a sickly kind of anger lingering in your stomach, rolling over and over until it simmered into a rage. The girl hadn’t said Remus’ name, but she might as well have. “You sound so— so ignorant! Have you ever met someone who has to go through something like that? Don’t you understand they’re just like us?”

The girl, Tabitha, maybe, you still weren’t really sure, blanched, staring at you as if you’d dropped from the sky. “What on Earth do you mean?” She laughed and it was a nasty sound, scathing and condescending. “Like us? Are you joking? They’re wild animals, they should be hunted down as such.”

James snatched your wand before you could lift it, red and orange sparks flying into the grass instead of the air and you scowled at him. He grimaced, hardly apologetic but Sirius soon stood between you both, eyes surprisingly soft. 

“Let’s go,” he told you, a gentle command, his hands on your shoulders. “She’s not worth it. Moony’s waiting, c’mon.”

That should’ve been it. The idea of Remus waiting for the three of you at the library should’ve been enough to make your legs work again and pull you away. But the girl was still laughing, an ugly noise, one that made your jaw tick. Sirius tugged at you, hands dropping to curl around an elbow and you took a step, just one. 

“Honestly, if I ever found out I’d shared the same air as one of those creatures, I’d have daddy on the phone to Dumbledore. One curse to the head is all it should ta—”

You ripped yourself from Sirius’ arms quicker than he could grab you, ready to throw your first into the girl’s face - her nose, if you could get your aim right. You watched as she paled, her footsteps fumbling as she backed away faster than you could catch up, all whilst your friends yelled your name from behind you.   

And then, an arm, needling around your waist to haul you up and backwards against a very solid chest. You squirmed, face scrunched in anger, cheeks aflame. 

“Hey, at ease solider, c’mon now.”

Remus. 

You deflated, breathe leaving you in a sigh, knowing that there wasn’t much point in trying to wrestle your way out of his grip. Your feet were dangling a good eight inches off the ground and Remus dropped his mouth to your ear, his voice soft. 

“Leave it, yeah?” 

You nodded, barely perceptible but Remus saw. You saw Sirius take a step towards the girl, eyes narrowed. He looked roguish and dangerous as always, and when he stepped forward once more, this time uttering a soft “boo,” the two girls took off without another word. 

Your wand was given back to you once they were deemed out of sight, your feet firmly back on the ground but Remus kept hand at your lower back, fingers lingering in your sweater, a reminder that he was close. 

“What was your plan, huh?” James’ asked, still wide eyed and surprised that you’d reacted in such a way. “Knock her out with just your fists?”

You rolled your eyes and started back to the castle, embarrassed at being seen having such a response to what was no more than some uneducated - albeit cruel - words. “Yeah, and what about it?” You sounded sullen, a little moody. “I can throw a punch as well as I can cast a hex, Potter.”

Sirius puffed out his chest, smirking. “I taught her.”

James scoffed, muttering something that sounded like, “was that really necessary?”

“What? D’you think she’ll always have her wand on her? What if she doesn’t, what then—”

Remus’ hand, warm and large, caught your own, keeping you from following the other boys and their conversation. He was frowning a little, brows knitted despite the way he was pressing his lips together, as if to hide a smile. He ducked his chin to meet your gaze, too tall otherwise, fingers twisting between your own. 

“What was that all about?” He murmured and his voice was low, pretty and raspy. “Huh?”

You sniffed, emotions catching up to you as the adrenaline faded and you toed at the grass, Mary Janes digging into the wet weeds. You tried to look away, somewhat embarrassed but Remus caught your chin with nimble fingers, scarred and calloused and entirely too lovely. His thumb tapped the space just below your mouth and he waited, quiet and patient. 

You shrugged. “That girl.” You nodded to the Slytherins retreating figure, glaring when she stared back at you from the safety of the castle steps. “Tabitha? I don’t know. It doesn’t matter. She was talking about—” you almost said ‘you,’ but that wasn’t true. She hadn’t spoken about Remus at all. How could she? She didn’t know. 

Remus waited, brows raised, his hand still on your jaw to keep your gaze on him. His touch was soft, more gentle than it needed to be and it made any explanation you wanted to give him a little harder to piece together. 

“Professor Marigold spoke about lunar cycles today,” you swallowed and Remus nodded. He knew this, of course he did. It’s why he spent that hour in his dorm, pretending to be sick. “That girl. Whatever her name is, she started going on about how, how werewolves shouldn’t be allowed to have the same rights as Witches and Wizards, how they should all be—” 

You stared at the boy, lips pressed together, deciding you didn’t want to explain anymore. The bitter feeling in your stomach was still bubbling, acidic and awful, but Remus dropped his hand from your chin to your waist, pulling you into him and it settled, if only slightly. 

He was too tall, his half hug had you face first into his chest, his school sweater smelling like laundry detergent and a little smoke, something sage and citrus that was seemingly just Remus. You clung to him, hands fisting in the familiar grey wool, your lip wobbling against the fabric because it was all suddenly a little too much. Remus rested his chin atop your head, his nose pushed into your hair when he felt your shoulders shake. 

“Hey, hey, c’mon,” Remus whispered, wrapping his arm around you a little tighter, hand travelling upupup until he could pull you closer still by your shoulders. “S’fine, really. I’m used to hearing shit like that.”

His reasoning only made your chest feel tighter and your breath shuddered. “That’s worse, Remus!” You intoned, speaking into his chest. “She was saying vile things, absolutely awful stuff and it’s just not—”

“Fair?” The boy mused, his lips brushing over your hairline. You wondered if Sirius and James had stopped to wait for you both, you wondered if they could see, if they were watching. You found you didn’t care. “The world isn’t fair, love, m’sorry to break it to you. But I’ll survive, no matter what Tabitha Rosethorne says.”

You leaned back, just enough to rest your chin on the boy’s chest, pouting as you gazed up at him, glassy eyed. Remus prodded at your cheek, brushing away one lone tear that had managed to escape out of anger. “She’s a dick,” you mumbled woefully. 

Remus snorted, nodding. He wasn’t used to you using such language, only giving him and the others in trouble for it. “She is a dick, you’re right,” he agreed. “But she’s not worth getting detention for. Were you really going to punch her?”

“I was going to try,” you enthused, flushing at the idea of starting an actual fight, completely wandless. “Sirius told me to keep my thumb on the outside of my fist.”

“Of course he did,” Remus mused, sounding unimpressed. “You shouldn’t be starting fights, you know, you’re too lovely for that. Especially on my behalf.”

Normally you would’ve preened at Remus’ sweet words, his soft compliments, but you were scowling, a full pout on your lips as you shook your head. Remus looked amused, knowing that expression all too well. 

Stubborn. 

“I’ll start fights, only for you,” you corrected him, not leaving much room for argument. “And Sirius will back me up. And more than likely, James too. Once he stops arguing.”

The boy laughed, a bright, sharp sound that had your frown fading quickly. You grinned up at him, smile growing wider when he squeezed at your shoulder and let his nose nudge against your warm cheek. 

“You’re not wrong,” he murmured. Remus kept you tucked under his arm as he lead you back up the grassy knoll, towards James and Sirius who were pretending they hadn’t been watching you both the entire time. “C’mon, hotshot, the library awaits.”

[wistfulwatcher]

misty quigley is a lesbian; a comphet reading of her deprivation tank "realization"

in rewatching misty's deprivation tank therapy, i'm more convinced than ever that misty is a lesbian suffering from compulsory heterosexuality. the entire scene, from start to finish, is about misty accepting that walter has feelings for her (not the other way around), and learning to push through her discomfort with that fact.

the deprivation tank scene begins by establishing that misty is afraid. we see quick transitions and hear bubbling water and see a terrifying fish coming at the camera with sharp teeth. followed by a slightly softer stream of images of walter, interspersed with memories of crystal, and of caligula. misty is thinking about three key relationships in this moment: walter, who is actively pursuing her; crystal, whom she loved and hurt and misses; and caligula, who is the only creature that both loves her, and she loves back.

love is the concept that ties these three together: walter is who she could love, crystal is who she did love, and caligula is who she does love.

and so the memories fade into her fantasy sequence, led by caligula, and he begins to soothe her. this creature that represents real (platonic, obviously) love to her (in that it is true and reciprocated, more than she feels it is with any human) tells her "shake off your blues/i'll set the mood for ya". caligula is acknowledging her fear and her loss, and telling her that he can fix it. that he has an answer that will make all of her problems go away.

which is when walter appears, looking like the leading man in a classic musical; an idealized romantic interest, one her fantasy has turned from a real man into a fictional character. and what does he do? performs for her. misty (per the directions of the song, to just "sit right down") sits and watches. she does not interact with him, because she (and her attraction) is not a part of this. one element of comphet is the inability to picture yourself in a fantasy with a man; misty does not put herself with walter, she does not join him.

and while he and caligula perform, three items float around the screen: the plane axe, a syringe, and the black box (which fluctuates between intact and exposed). these three items are such a fascinating choice, because they, 1) all relate to the actions she took in her need to be useful and appreciated, but 2) also represent some of the ugliest things she has done (at a time when she has recently been thinking about what kind of person these things make her). she is thinking about these moments (her behavior with ben, murdering jessica, and stranding the team/breaking crystal's trust) that cause her great discomfort, at the same time she is trying to convince herself that walter is what she needs. she is comparing the discomfort she has with walter's interest and the validation she would feel from a relationship, to the way she's felt about all of these other bad things she's felt compelled to do.

while these items float, caligula sings, "now sit right down/let your troubles melt away/and you'll be sitting pretty in the moonlight gaze". continuing to tell her to push through the discomfort; just let it go. and if you do? "moonlight gaze" is such an interesting choice, because the moon is most strongly symbolic of women. if she lets go and has this relationship with walter, the other women will think she's normal. (especially after just a few hours prior to this, natalie had said, "we're all like this, aren't we?" this is her chance to prove nat wrong, for misty's own sake and/or for nat's!) this is not the first time misty has displayed behavior suggesting that it's important to her that natalie (and other people in general) see her as desirable as a romantic/sexual prospect: telling natalie about her dates on the road trip to travis, "i bet he thinks we're hookers!" said with glee in the jail, "i have a secret boyfriend, too," whispered to natalie in '96. if she decides to accept walter's interest (a man who is so into her that he is literally fine with her being a serial killer!), then maybe the other girls will see how worthy misty is of affection and attention.

once the dance number is over, misty immediately goes to speak with caligula; again, in her fantasy about loving walter, she doesn't interact with walter. instead she seeks caligula out, because he is the one she feels a real connection to; he is the one who knows her and can reassure her - the one whose reassurance will mean something. (walter, a man she barely knows, has been nothing but a concept to her in this fantasy, and that doesn't change.) misty's conversation with caligula is emotional; she is clearly bothered by the idea that other people see her as a murderer. but caligula doesn't give her an emotional response or solution; instead, he tells her she's a "closer". he points out that, even when things are rough (i.e., even though she doesn't like how walter makes her feel), she can persevere and accomplish her goals. it is this reminder that causes misty to transition the scene to to the final piece.

and oh boy, is that final scene a goldmine. because it begins with a close-up on misty's childhood phone. the phone that becky called her on back in 1992, to tell her that she was disgusting. that no man would want her, and that she would never find "a victim" to sleep with. that moment was foundational for misty's issues, for her desire to be wanted and needed in '96, and her deep need to receive validation from men in '21. this scene is so crucial to understanding misty's relationship to comphet, because one of the key facets is wanting a man to see you as desirable, because that is a woman's value in a misogynistic society. this hits misty so especially hard because she's not just lacking interest and validation from men in school; she hasn't been getting recognition from anyone. (for her to break the black box after just a few hours of receiving positive attention? she was starving for it.)

and so walter calls her on the phone - their backs to each other, literal and emotional distance between them - and starts to tell her that he loves her. but he doesn't say the words. instead he uses morse code to send "uoyevoli": "i love you", backwards. a fascinating choice, because it could be argued that the morse code is representative of their shared love of puzzles as crime solvers. but why backwards? surely the symbolism of the puzzle connection has been satisfied by the morse code.

it's because misty doesn't want to hear "i love you." she wants the implication of walter's desire, she wants to know she has value, but she doesn't want the actual feelings. she wants him to say i love you in a way she can't feel. she wants him to call her and turn his back so she can do the same. she wants to "get the ball over the goal line" and to do that she needs this level of distance.

so this scene with walter? it isn't about walter; it's about recreating that brutal memory. it's about rewriting her past. in her fantasy, walter calls her to prove that becky was wrong, that he is choosing misty because she is desirable. that he does want her. and this is so key because this whole scene is about how walter feels. that walter wants her. in misty's "realization" that she wants to be with walter, it isn't about her feelings at all. the purple flowing line of love comes from walter, the words "i love you" - twisted as they may be - come from walter. misty's only role in her fantasy is to "sit right down" and accept her role; surrender to the fact that walter is the right choice.

and when she does, when she finally, finally comes to the end of this moment, she still doesn't interact with walter. the natural progression of a love confession is physical contact. a kiss, or a relieved embrace. misty seeks neither! in this fantasy of hers where she can have anything, she makes no effort to acknowledge walter at all. instead, she turns to caligula, representative of her real connections. and she celebrates her victory with him. misty can close this deal, can get through this decision she's made, by clinging to the people she does actually care about.

[thegreatestsandwich]

So good to me, so right (Jacaerys Velaryon x Reader)

Masterlist

Pairing: Jace Velaryon x Reader

Word count: 3.5k

Summary: He met you by coincidence and for some reason, he can’t seem to let you go.

Warning: Nothing really, well it’s cringy and it doesn’t make any sense, I wrote this by being sick and drugged with the whole bunch of medicine I have to take

A/N: So here’s the second fic of my little project, it’s kinda a re-told of the little mermaid? kinda, I really don’t know what I wrote :D

The day was grey, the clouds were angry and the wind was screaming for blood but down into the darker waters, the ocean was singing in harmony within the ongoing storm and show. You could hear the song so clearly and perfectly, an inviting tune that lured you into join in.

You were swimming closer to the shore, closer to what Dragonstone was supposed to be located, perfectly knowing that in any moment, any fool would succumb into the arms of very sweet and lovingly death. You were waiting patiently as you could feel it, see it and smell it down on your bare bones. The blinding light erupted from the sky, another thunder, another sign. It was almost time for a delicious meal.

Your eyes tried to adjust at what was happening on the sky above. Different colors were dancing, trying to lead the continuous steps. Red and oranges tones across the grey canvas. Loud screams of monstruous beast, the smell of smoke.

At first it terrified you, as you were one of the youngest of your species and being that meant you needed to prove to your tribe you could contribute into hunting and feed them as well. So you force yourself to come up and finally choose what a great meal was about to happened.

Silence followed the thunder. Silence brought smoke and pieces falling freely to the ocean. The ocean was the only thing that heard their screams, the ocean was the only thing that received them with joy.

You closed your eyes, slowly disappearing into the waters, finally accepting the ocean’s call for a meal. Your sirens instincts took over you, taking you into the depths where no human could ever follow. You began searching for a source of food, pieces of things that you didn’t know were floating underwater, that’s when you sense it.

Blood.

Few corpses were floating while others were already falling into the darkest depth. A smile formed on your face and you began swimming your way to your objective. You stopped quickly when you saw the creature. It was bigger than you, and the scales on its body told you that it didn’t belong to the ocean. A huge stick was pocking through its chest. You knew it was in pain and a part inside your mind told you that it wouldn’t be fair to attack it.

That’s when you saw him. He was next to the thing, another stick was pocking on his chest as well as the beast, you saw him began to fall into the depths. You hesitated for a second, yes; you were really hungry and wanted to eat him but still, there was something inside you that didn’t let you. You made up your mind quickly and as fast as you could, you swim to him, hugging him below where the stick was poking and took him to the lonely island you knew he could be safe. You did the same thing with the beast that was closer to the human.

Whitin the passing seconds, you noticed he was not waking up, even though you already made sure the water was completely out of his body, same with the beast but both of them weren’t opening their eyes. You focus on the stick, it was still on them, you were afraid of taking it off, thinking something bad could happened to them.

You knew there was something deeper in the ocean, far beyond the darkness that could help them, but it was a trip even you didn’t dare to make.

The human moaned in pain, and your eyes quickly went back to him. You saw him move a bit before staying still again, so you decided that perhaps, the trip wouldn’t be a bad idea. It wouldn’t take more than two moon passings to complete it.

You sighed knowing what you were about to do, you dragged yourself closer to the human, your tail collecting sand along the way. Your hand moved a few strands of brown hair from his face, your fingers playing with them for a few seconds before finally moving his face -not- carefully, you opened his eyes. Brown. You opened his mouth, the teeth were weird, not pointy enough to eat, you wondered what he consume if he couldn’t bite meat off the bone.

He groaned again and you nodded before going back to the ocean and into the deepest depths.

The journey took a bit too long for your liking and you hoped he was still there where you left him, and hopefully alive. You found the island quickly and swam as fast as you could, a tiny bottle tucked against your ribs carefully, you didn’t saw him laying on the sand and you got worried that something attacked him at his most vulnerable state.

You reached the shore and began dragging yourself into the island. You spotted him quickly against a three still asleep, the stick still on his body. The beast behind him, completely stressed, his stand was like a predator and you made sure to not made eye contact, perfectly knowing it as it resembles closer to the ones from underneath.

You show it the tiny bottle, carefully getting closer and closer to the man, trying to show the beast that you were not a threat. The beast decided to observe you for a moment, trying to understand what your next move would be.

You manage to drag your tail closer to the human, sitting next to him as you carefully watched his features, his face was fascinating, completely different from the ones of your species. More softer. You poked his cheek and waited for his reaction. He just frowned and you smiled. Your eyes turned towards the stick, touching it softly, it was wood, easily to take off with one pull. Your hands quickly put the bottle on his legs and grabbed the stick, without much thinking, you pull it with force and it slide off from him.

He screamed in pain and it startled you for a second, but you force you to concentrate, you quickly grabbed the bottle, spreading the liquid onto his wound, you grabbed his arms as hard as you could because he was being difficult. You knew how much it hurt to have that liquid on the body but you needed him to stay still so it could work.

The beast felt the pain of his owner so it began growling at you, you were getting a bit nervous at how it began to show its teeth at you, so you did the only thing you could and hissed back. It definitely quiet it.

The human stopped fighting you and simply sighed in content as the pain was slowly subsiding. You hummed and turned your attention to the beast, watching how the stick was still on its body, your hand stretched out to grabbed it but it growled in anger, yet you didn’t let it scare you, it was in pain so you wanted to help. You leg go of the human and drag yourself towards the beast, you grabbed the stick and pull it away with force. It growled and it tried to bite you, but you manage to rest your palm against the open wound. Forcing some of the liquid into it.

You waited next to the human, the beast had already calm itself down when the liquid finally took away the last of the pain, he even curled next to you, waiting for his owner to finally wake up. It didn’t took long. The night was almost approaching when he woke up, he was confused at first, trying to recollect his thoughts about what just had happened.

His hands went quickly to his chest, trying to find the arrow but he found none, he sighed in relief, thinking it might had been a dream, but being outside, on an island, next to a creature who was putting several pieces of shells on his legs, told the contrary.

Jace quickly stood up, almost falling in the process. “What…?” His dragon woke up with the alteration from his owner, lazily stretching.

You watched him with curiosity when you heard it the sound his stomach made. He was hungry, you understood that sound, you quickly made your way back to the waters, no after pushing him into the sand and looking at him in the eye, hoping he would understand the meaning of your glare.

Jace was just confused, one moment he was flying, then someone shot him, he thought he was about to die and then he woke up next to you, a beautiful woman with a tail, no legs. A TAIL. He began pacing on the sand, trying to find any sort of coherent plan he could think of. His dragon was no help at all, opting for just sat next to the shore waiting for the girl who left moments ago. To be completely honest, Jace was thinking this was some sort of a dream.

Being trapped with your care was something he never imagine would happened to him. You were a bit rough but he suspected to the fact that you were not completely human, and the communication aspect was completely off so to spend time he decided to help you learn a few words. Jace managed to help you learn his name, he also gave you a name, he introduced you to Vermax officially and even talked about his mother.

But in reality, even if spending time with you was a break from all the responsibilities he had and even taking away his mind from the ongoing war. He needed to understand that this was just a passenger distraction. So one day he asked you to hunt for a bit because he was hungry, and you happily accepted.

You swam to the shore once again, your arms full of different kind of fishes, hoping Jace and Vermax would like your choices this time. You smiled at the thought of having another meal with your new friends but when quickly left your face as you saw the island completely empty.

“Jace?” You called out. “Vermax? Here?” Silence welcomed you once again. Your arms drop the fish on the sand, your tail barely out of the water.

Your heart felt heavy and weird, a feeling you never had experience before. A few drops began falling into your tail, your eyes went to the sky, finding it free from any cloud, there was no water falling from it.

Your fingers touched your face, feeling the water coming out of your eyes, your hands rubbed harsher against your eyes, trying to dry them out. With a grunt, you dragged yourself again towards the waters, not looking back at the pile of fishes you spend hours catching.

It pained him to leave you but he needed to do it, his return was far more important than the need and want to stay next to you. Jace rode Vermax to Dragonstone, hoping that his mother was waiting for him.

Vermax roared, breaking his thoughts, his eyes finally focusing on his home. “Finally.” He whispered. His dragon softly landed on the ground and for the first time, he felt beyond tired. He was exhausted.

With so much effort, he made his way into the castle, passing several servants who looked at him as he was a ghost. That’s when his mother spotted him.

“Jacaerys?” Rhaenyra whispered in disbelief, stopping harshly. Daemon watched carefully, his eyes searching what his wife just had saw, that’s when he saw him.

Jace turned around, at the end of the hall was his mother, completely changed, the stress was completely painted on her face, her eyes shown the mourning she has been dealing for the past few weeks. “Jacaerys?!” Rhaenyra scream, finally running towards her son.

Jace didn’t waste any time, and even if he was completely tired and sleep was trying to force its way, he run towards her. Once she reached him, she hugged him with so much force. “Oh my boy, oh my sweet boy, you are here, you are here.” Rhaenyra kissed his head repeatedly. “You are alive, you are, I knew it, I knew it.”

“Mother, please.” Jace hold her tightly. “The others are watching.” The joke he tried to make cause a small teary chuckle from his mother. “I had missed you as well.”

“Please come, come and tell me everything.” She led him towards his room. Daemon following behind them.

“A beautiful woman.” Jace said with a smile after finishing everything that happened to him. “The most beautiful woman I had ever seen, mother.” Rhaenyra smiled as she sat next to him on his bed, brushing away the hair from his face. “You would love her.”

“I already love her.” She responded. “She saved my son, she has my eternal gratitude.”

“It is impossible.” Daemon took a step forward, his face completely in disbelief. “A woman with a tail similar to the scales of a dragon.” He paused for a second. “And she came out of the ocean?”

“Daemon.” Rhaenyra stopped him. “I believe he is telling the truth.” She stared at her husband saying no more. There were somethings that the world hide beneath the eye, even an eye as experienced as the Targaryen one. “Jace has no reason to lie.”

“Not a lie.” Daemon accepted. “But perhaps a changing in ones perspective, he was injured and miraculously landed on a stranded island, loosing blood rapidly. I doubt a few aspects of his story.”

“I can show you.” Jace quickly interrupted, trying to pry away his mother’s hands from pushing him back to bed. “I can introduce her to you right now, if we leave in this moment maybe we could...”

“No.” Rhaenyra protested, quickly stopping Daemon from speaking. “What you need is rest, there is time for that another day.”

“But…”

“No, I said rest.”

But meeting you again turned out to be after a few days, a storm had made its way to Dragonstone, forcing everyone to stay put for some days, he hated that, he needed to see you again and began wondering if you would forgive him for just leaving without saying goodbye. He hoped you do.

After the storm cleared out, Jace knew he needed to move quickly. He trudge into the iron throne, startling his mother and Daemon with his brusque entrance.

“Mother, I believe it is time for you to meet her. I have waited enough and I’m already as healthy as I can be.” He said.

Rhaenyra watched him carefully. “Meet her?”

“The storm has already disperse and it’s perfect for the dragons to fly to her island.” He bowed his head, wishing that they could just say yes and begin their way to the island. “Mother, please.”

His mother sighed, knowing that there would not be anything she could say to beg him to rest for another day. She nodded, turning towards her husband. “I won’t be long.”

Daemon scoffed. “You think I will let you go on your own?”

“She won’t be on her own, I will be there.” Jace retorted. “And she is completely inoffensive.”

“You are still hurt boy.” Daemon pointed out. “You would be useless traying to defend your mother. Show us the way, we will be behind you.”

“No! I mean.” He paused. “I want her to meet mother first, I only talk about her.”

Rhaenyra smiled. “It is fine Daemon, do not worry for us, Jace it’s capable enough to take care of both of us, and we will have our dragons with us. Isn’t that right, my boy?”

Jace nodded and quickly made his way outside. He was excited to see you again and his steps showed it, they were happily and nervous at the same time. He made his way quickly towards Vermax, his mother trying to follow his steps. Convincing Daemon to stay was even harder, but Jace managed to do it in rapidly. He didn’t want to scare you away. So Jace didn’t waste any time and approached his dragon, meeting his gaze. “Ready?”

“Jace! Slow down, you have not recover completely.” His mother tried to slow him for a bit but he didn’t listen. “That boy will kill me one of these days.”

The way to the island was a quick one, a path that Jace already engraved into his memory. His heart was getting heavier and heavier the seconds he got closer to it. Vermax could feel it too, a exciting feeling to returning home. “Easy boy, we are almost there.”

Vermax descended quickly into the sand. Jace getting off quickly as well. His feet welcomed the sand and he began searching. Rhaenyra walked towards the nervous boy. Not knowing what to do. Suddenly, several pieces of rocks began hitting all of them. Jace quickly turned towards the source, a huge smile formed on his face as he saw you throwing the rocks at them.

“(Y/N)!” He happily exclaim, ignoring the pain of the hits. “Hey! Stop it! Not the enemy!”

You ignored him, now throwing pieces of sticks at him, trying to stop him to come closer to you. “No! Go! Bad Jace!”

As closer as he got the clever you got, first it was rocks, then it was sticks, then it was shells and finally sand. When neither worked to stop him you decided to just flee. You began dragging yourself using the sand.

Jace’s eyes widened and threw himself on top of you, you just punch his face. “Stop it! You are going to get hurt.” He grabbed your arms and pinned them above you. “Vermax!” His dragon hear his owner’s call and quickly walked towards the struggling duo on the sand. Jace guide your hands to his dragon, forcing your fingers to touch Vermax’s scales. You force your hands away from his and began tracing each one of them, halting your movements, now more calm than before. “See? Friends.”

“Vermax friend, you bad.” You huffed angrily. “You left, no goodbye.”

Jace’s face rested on your shoulder -still on top on you, not that you were complaining-, he sighed knowingly. “I know, but I needed to go home and show them I wasn’t dead.”

“No forgive.” You continued playing with Vermax’s scales, who happily let you, using his head to guide you where you could touch next. “You bad like others.” Jace sighed, finally turning to see his mother.

Rhaenyra was watching them fight and for a moment it reminded her that her son was actually growing up and becoming a strong man, perhaps he was starting to have some romantic interest in you. Jace motion her to come closer, mouthing a quiet ‘careful’ and she complied, she made her way silently. She saw how her son whispered something to the girl next to him and both of them turned towards her, the girl watching her with curiosity on her eyes.

Jace sat down next to the girl and offered Rhaenyra his hand, a smile on his face, motioning her to not be afraid. She sat next to his son, waiting for him to introduce them.

“Mother.” He placed his palm on her chest, Rhaenyra was confused for a second. Then Jace place that hand on his own chest. “Jace.” Then on hers. “(Y/N), yes?”

The girl was visibly confused, she placed her hand on Rhaeneyra. “Jace mother?”

“Yes!” He nodded happily. “She is my mother, the one I told you about.” He turned towards his mother. “She doesn’t speak our language so we are working on her to understand it.”

“I see.” Rhaeneyra smiled at his son. The girl placed her hand on her chest.

“Jace mother?” She asked her. Rhaenerya turned towards her son in amusement.

“No! No! Jace mother is only his mother, your mother must be down.” Jace corrected her.

“Down?” She question him, a happy glint showed on her eyes. “Jace mother hungry? Me feed her!” And she began dragging herself towards the water. Jace trying to stop her but failing as she dived into the waters.

Jace sighed into his hands. “She probably will return with several fishes, perhaps even bigger ones, I am not joking mother, she will expect for you to eat everything.”

She laughed. “Do not worry, my boy.” She stood up and stood next to him. “I will happily eat whatever she brings.”

Jace bit his lips, his eyes closing, perfectly knowing that wouldn’t be possible, but he didn’t have the time to correct his mother as you made your way back to surface, your arms full of dead fishes and your mouth biting into a calamar. You spit it into the sand. “Food!”

“Oh.” Rhaeneyra watched in completely astonishment at the huge quantity of food you manage to recollect in the few minutes you went away.

Jace sighed. “Told you so.”

[sarahphantom1234]

Octavinelle x Reader

Warning: Yandere, OOC, Thalassophobia.

_________________

From a young age, I did not like the sea.

Or sea creatures.

I'M afraid of it.

The feeling of being pressed deeply, hearing nothing, the liquid suffocating, invading the mind, thinking that it has become a corpse for the sea monsters to eat, it is not pleasant. little bit.

I admire divers, sailors... Or simply people who like to swim.

Because of that, when I came to the new world, to the new school called Night Raven College, I was disgusted with the sea creatures of the Octavinelle family, even though they were only a few, very few.

But because of that, the Leech twins often came to talk to me, and I did nothing but bow my head to avoid looking at their sharp teeth.

When I saw it, I thought that my own body had been bitten in half, the blood was wide and patched everywhere, and a little bit of consciousness felt the pain of dying over and over again, then being swallowed. gobble.

I fear them.

I tried to hide from those two as much as I could.

But maybe it only works a few times.

They could find me anywhere, and so I was dragged to Mostro Lounge.

I heard that the head of Octavinelle's house was an octopus, named Azul Ashengrotto, imagining those proboscis squeezing me, I shivered with fear.

But what's wrong with that senior Azul? Every time he saw me, he blushed, even if it was fleeting, and then faced me like a gentleman.

I don't really care, I'm uncomfortable or "afraid" around them, but I still respect them.

Respect like the seniors.

Just like that, ticking and ticking, as time passed, I thought they would get bored, but maybe I was wrong, they liked me even more than before.

Just dragging me around, going back and forth at Mostro Lounge, I'm so bored.

But miraculously, they asked me to go to the beach to play, I quickly refused, after that time, I also tried to hide from them more.

Maybe this time because I was determined to be very careful, so whenever I met their silhouette, I would run- hide or run very fast.

Just like that, I kept on hiding, the last time I hid was around recess, because of that I left my friends and ran away, I immediately hid in a bush, crouched down. To fit the shade of the tree, cover your mouth to keep from making a sound.

I feel the chill shivering, but isn't the weather warm right now? Sneaking a little glance, the first thing I saw were sharp eyes searching for me, I was very panicked, quickly turned my head, restrained myself to stop shaking, those eyes, the eyes of ocean killers.

I swear I don't want anything to do with them, I'm telling the truth.

The flashback is enough, now I guess I have to focus on my studies as well.

So fast! It's already evening, I have only a simple dark clothes, the dim moonlight makes one's mind hazy, there are glittering stars, fresh air, how strange it looks...

I walked slowly to the coast, the golden sand caressed like a kiss on the soles of my feet, I felt all my senses, my eyes saw the calm sea, my ears listened to melodious voices like the lyre of the poet Orpheus.

But why, I can't control? My feet keep going, follow that voice and forget the way back, fear screams, but why won't my body listen?

Or is it because the songs seem to be separate but harmonize?

Oh, please make me deaf now, even if I trade the best song, I won't be content to go down to that terrible ocean.

I say that, but I still go, close to the sea, the wind creates a wave that cools my feet, what do I see in my eyes now?

Twin brothers in mermaid form and Azul sunbae wiggle their tentacles.

They raised their hands for me to catch, then gently pulled me under the sea.

My head is sinking, so deep...

They stopped singing, I was able to move too, my body moved, but they held me tight, my strength was not enough.

Just as my oxygen was running low, I tried to look up at the faint light of the moon.

Do not!

I beg you!

I bow to you!

Please don't take away my last hope, please remove the tentacles wrapped around my eyes, please don't whisper those words in my ears!

I'd rather be a flower forgotten on the side of the road, let people push and pedal.

Or vow to become a bird with its wings broken, waiting for Death to take it away.

Please don't force me to take that medicine, even though my eyes are covered, but I feel that my legs are glued together like glue, the itchy skin is gradually becoming painful, something is sticking out of the skin. mine!

I screamed, I could breathe underwater. No! This is what I fear the most, becoming a mermaid!

The tentacles on my eyes are removed, what do they show me? The fishtail with its silvery glittering scales.

I don't want to! I don't want to be the animal I fear the most, I don't want to be like the fairy tales tell, live more than 300 years and the soul becomes a sponge, please give back my eternal soul!

They pulled me deeper, and deeper, so much so that I couldn't see the moonlight shining down on this blue sea...

I wish it was all just a dream.

[jaysflix]

The Killing Moon

Hello! So sorry for the late post, but I've been all over the place with scrapping other writings and work, I couldn't find the time to write something I liked. Howeverrr, I wanted to post something today to celebrate this lovely holiday, so here is some Dracopia x Reader :)

Genre: Romance, angst

Summary: You noticed something off about the bushes, and felt someone staring back

Pairing: Dracopia / Reader

Warnings: death/mentions of death, blood

Words: 1,685

Other Notes: This was heavily inspired by Echo & the Bunnymen's song. I really recommend! Also apologies in advance for misspellings and repetition of words, I was rushing and didn't proofread!

･ﾟ:*𖤐*:･ﾟ

It was only after midnight when he saw you clearly in the midst of the garden. You sat, dressed in white, singing a quiet song of prayer while sleep abandoned you. The gargoyles stared into nothingness as they enjoyed your tune. At this specific time, when the air was crisp and the sky was clear, he sat among them—not listening but staring deep into your skin. He’d think about where he wanted to feast on first: your neck, perhaps? No, it was too obvious. Maybe your shoulder, or would you enjoy that too much?

He was a perfectionist, living in his head of imagination to make sure his plan would go accordingly: 

The kill would be painfully slow so he could cherish the moment your eyes became lifeless and your body went limp in his arms. Almost a romantic scene, he thought.  But first, he wanted to see you writhe underneath his touch. He’d control you. Corrupt you. Taint your blood.

The moon was big and bright with a gleaming red shade at its full potential. There, you sat. Here, beneath a cloak of thorns, he stared hungrily and waited patiently as you continued your nightly routine. How could I approach this, he wondered. All the nights spent staring at your ghostly figure were wasted due to his incomplete arrangements. Perhaps he ought to tempt you.

You sensed him before yet said nothing. To any sane person, his eye would’ve been alarming, but curiosity took hold before any hint of fear. At first, you were certain it was a critter until it never made a move. This recurring encounter convinced you that it was indeed a human species of sorts with a shy nature. You knew animals well and didn’t seek them out until it was comfortable with your presence. Then, when the time was right, it would come to you, and a reward shall be granted. But weeks of coming out to pray in the night proved to be useless, so tonight you decided to slowly approach it without causing a fright. 

Ending prayer, a silent breath whistled from your nostrils. If this encounter meant an escape from everlasting conformity, God had sent an angel.

Copia’s head could not find silence once you’d stood, straying across the garden. Though he sees you clearly from the bench, the beauty positioned in front of the thicket left him stunned. You were clearer now. His fingers twitched, out of fear or hunger, he didn’t know. There was no heartbeat strong enough to determine how he felt, but a pit in his stomach grew in fractions. This wasn’t his plan.

An eye pierced through yours. No ounce of fear controlled you. Only interest.

“Hello,” A gloved hand quickly slapped his mouth and covered his nose. Your sweet chastity was filling his senses too quickly for him to resist, but he still made an effort. He didn't utter a sound, hoping you would just walk away and never come back. 

You began again, “Why must you hide in the bushes?”

No, why must he feel this way? Why must you be such a guiltless sight before him? Any creature would be graced with your company, but here you were, appearing as prey in front of a predator. He couldn’t contain the slick that filled his mouth, over his lips. 

Between the spaces the leaves would allow you to look through, his clothing blended with the dark shadows, except for the silver lining of a brooch on his chest that seemed to call to you. Trailing the rest of his fabric, up to his shoulders, you noticed a black cloth draped nicely with a maroon interior. 

Smiling small, you continued in hopes of getting a word in return. “You wear a beautiful cloak. Are you cold?”

A small crack of a twig's spine indicated his escape. He could not bear to listen to your sweet voice for longer and realized now why the sculptures loved to stay. How he was starving for you. It’d shaken him too much, and now that you’ve seen him, he had no choice. If anyone were to find out about his existence…

Oh, but you, such a pure innocence. Even a creature as cruel as he could not muster the strength to sink his teeth into your flesh.

“Please don’t run!” Shock gushed through him as you opened a passage to see him fully. Though the moon could not capture him in the light, you saw all you needed to see. “Demon.” You blurted. Copia sank to his knees, 

“No!” He attempted to shield himself from the wicked gaze of the audience. The gray frowned upon reveal, he mistook the howl of wind for their judgment. “I won’t hear it!”

Now you stood in horror, regretting your tongue. You came in closer, hesitant to ease him in such a state. You sucked in a sharp breath, feeling a strong grip on your thighs. 

Copia’s gloved fingers desperately clawed at the hem of your nightgown, staining the white with black smudges from his paint. His face planted in your legs, like a child finding comfort, shying away from the world. You didn’t stop it, stroking his peppery hair which illuminated in the moonlight.

He could smell you even stronger in this position. Though he was starving, he couldn’t help the invisible tears that stung his eyes. He hadn’t felt anyone else in so long, Copia was afraid if he moved that you’d leave him to freeze.

Kneeling to his level, your hands moved from his hair to his cheeks, lifting him to look at his eye. The coldness of his skin sent shivers down your spine. His lips parted slightly, uncovering the sharp tip of his canines. You could see him scanning your face, trying to read what you were feeling. He softened at your words,

“You are not what I was told a demon to be. No, you are lovely.” 

If only he wasn’t a demon. Then, what would you have thought of him? To be in this body, dead but alive, was a curse. Anger was all he knew from the moment he rose from his grave. Until he’d met you, the true beauty of an angel from a being he never believed in. No amount of evil ever laced your words.

He knew that if he leaned in now, he would be selfish and never let you go. Something incoherent he whispered, looking directly at the floor to avoid your skin. You hummed in question, 

“Leave me.” He repeated sternly before rising to his feet with you mirroring him. He turned his face away, showing no sign of emotion despite him missing the warmth of your fingertips. 

There was no room in his cold heart for you. Hatred, hunger, and fear controlled him. Love will never be a feeling he longed to feel ever again. He never wanted this life. He’d only wanted to fulfill his righteous duties. Now he roams the grounds of a deity, the one whom he spent his life defying only to fall for one of his many children.

Copia’s internal struggle became evident in your eyes, seeing clearly thanks to his angle. Like a raccoon, black paint smudged heavily around his eyes, and some on his top lip. It was unique, almost mesmerizing. You caught his face again, forcing him to look at you directly,

“I won’t.” Without warning you could feel the cold wetness on his gloves around your neck, blocking your airway. You didn’t have time to gasp, however, he could see the expression of surprise. You’d tipped him over to the edge, his hunger lingering on his tongue. He couldn’t control it. No matter how hard he tried to restrain himself, he needed to feast on your flesh.

Barely a scream made it out of your throat once his teeth penetrated your skin. The feeling burned deep into your veins, like venom.

To him, you were his venom, intoxicating whatever streamed through his body. He was almost drunk on you, losing himself to the amount of blood he consumed. 

The fabric was loose on him, showing how thin and starved he really was. Bones sharply moved against your body as he shied closer to get a good gulp, his fingers loosening so you could breathe. You shuddered a satisfied gasp, your vision getting blurry as your eyes began to develop hot tears. 

It wasn’t a pleasant feeling, but somehow you felt gratitude. You were happy to be serving him, a dark beast because it was different from what you were used to. You were tired of devoting yourself to someone of hypocrisy and being around people with so much hatred. Tonight, you’re more than willing to submit yourself to this beautiful creature of the night.

Again, you found your fingers softly intertwined in his hair, encouraging him to take more. He let go, shaking his head,

“Forgive me, topino.” He heard you let out a breathy laugh. He felt horrible for the action, scooping your frail body and laying you down on his lap for more comfort. One arm held your back, hoisting you up so your head rested against his shoulder. You reached for him again, no longer seething at his cold touch, welcoming it instead.

“It’s alright.” You whispered, brushing the stray strands of hair from his face, smiling, “You’re the prettiest thing I’ve seen.”

He didn’t respond, simply startled at the compliment he’s never received before. Even with his betrayal, you still remained such a kind soul. Like a soft rose, blossoming deep within his core. There was something fuzzy about it, yet there were no thorns along the growing vines. Nothing harmed him inside. He’d felt a warmth he longed to feel again. Yes, no evil could ever take your gentleness. 

This emotion was vaguely familiar, but he couldn’t put a finger on it. The words lingered in his mind before you ran cold, hand dropping down to his shoulder loosely. And as he saw the color drain from your lively eyes, he declared that the feeling was in fact, love.

[sugarkissesu]

Siren! reader meeting the lost crew of Team Stan for the first time

(SFW. GN Terms. Viewer Discretion is Advised.)

You were wadding the choppy waters of the salty sea swimming around looking for food to bring back to your family. It was late out at night, the full moon cresting in the unclouded night sky, so all the fish were away from the general area making it hard to find food.

Just before you were about to give up and snatch some kelp up from the jagged rocks down below, you spotted easy prey up ahead seated in a boat.

You dove deeper under the water and swam a good distance near their teetering boat, poking your head out of the water to peek at them for a second. Scoping out your prey.

“My word Cartman you are a fat piece of shit. Your lard is making the boat uneven, we might as well throw you overboard so you don’t sink our only way to land!”

“You lay one hand on me Jew and I’ll cut your fingers off! Respect my authoritah!”

You chuckled to yourself as you watched the two sailors argue amongst themselves. For food they all looked kinda cute. Almost made you feel bad since you planned to eat them.

“Hey you two can it before I throw you both overboard! We need to focus here and find our way home.”

“Wow Marsh being the voice of reason? It’s official, we’re doomed.”

You picked up that they seemed to be lost. This could be an easy way to start a conversation with these sailors and hopefully entice them to come into the water with you.

You dove back under the water and swam closer to their boat, resurfacing when you came up on the other side. The two bickering didn’t notice you and the man with the black hair didn’t notice your presence either, his head buried in a confusing map.

The one who did see you was a man wearing an orange pointed pirate hat and an orange bandana around his mouth, now jutted down placed loosely around his neck. The boat rocked even more when he came up to face you up close already transfixed by just taking in your features under the guidance of the moonlight.

“My my my, who may you be? Isn’t it too cold to go for a night swim? Might freeze to death or get eaten by giant squid.”

Kenny had never encountered a siren and was to busy staring at you to look at the reflection of the water to see your tail swaying in the tides.

You laughed in response gaining the attention of the other three men who were previously.

“Not afraid of a mere squid. The squid should be afraid of me, sailor.”

Stan dropped his map to focus all his attention on your face, shiny from the sea water and scales protecting your human skin. He didn’t notice the tail either but he did get the feeling he was about to puke, hurling up chunks at the other side of the boat.

“Holy Hell, you’re one of those fish creatures! Like those human-mermaid creatures!”

“Sirens, fatass. They’re called sirens. What’s your business, siren?”

“Well, I heard you were having some trouble with finding your way home and I thought it’d be a good deed to help a boat of lost sailors get home to their families. That’s what you all right? To go home?”

Kenny twirled a piece of your hair on his finger. “Not if you ain’t coming home with us, we’ll stay right here. Isn’t that right, fellas?”

Stan and Cartman nodded in agreement with Kenny, the only oddball out was Kyle who was sat away from you tense sweaty bullets. His curly red hair flicked straight up when you brought a hand out of the water and touched a scaly but equally soft hand to his. You could hear his heart thump in his chest as you rubbed tiny circles on the back of his hand.

“What’s wrong, sailor? You look tense, frightened even. Maybe a song will help you relax.”

And then you song one of your usual siren songs that drew your prey to you. It worked like a charm, all of the men on the boat clamored at the edge to try and her your enchanting song better even when you were right in front of their face.

You started to slowly swim backwards while singing your song hoping they would follow you and wad in the water with you and to no one’s surprise they did.

They were on the edge of climbing out their boat to follow you until a voice could be heard from behind the boat stopping your song and snapping the sailors out of their trance.

“Hey assholes thanks for blowing our ship up. Now we’re stuck here lost!”

[sm0lb0dygaiii]

Loving is Easy ♡︎

siyeon x gn!reader (request)

You and Siyeon had this cliché but adorable tradition of going to each other's houses for movie night, which mostly took place at your house as your robot girlfriend lived with her members and she didn't want to have to deal with the girls' silly fights while you were there. Even though you told her how much you liked the chaotic atmosphere of her place, she wanted to spend some quiet time with you; although the real reason for her disagreement was that she didn't want to share you with her members, you were HER island paradise all to herself.

Who would have thought that the charismatic wolf Lee Siyeon was actually a cuddly and jealous little baby.

This time it was her who invited you, which surprised you at first, of course you had accepted because it had been so long since you had gone to see her at the dormitory. And even since the comeback you hadn't been able to see her very often, which you could understand, but finally being with her was so nice and comforting for you, knowing that she cared about you just as much despite her busy schedule.

So excited to see your beautiful girlfriend that you were already fully dressed since 2 hours and finishing packing her favorite dishes in tupperware while singing your song of the moment "Maison" of course, you were a partner but also her number 1 fan, you never missed a comeback, live or stage because how could you not be so proud of Siyeon and her members when they were so talented.

When you finally arrived at the door of the dormitory, you could feel your heart start to flutter with stress and joy even though it had been a few years since you and Siyeon, you were still blushing as much as on the first day of your relationship.

Tapping on the door hesitantly and immediately taking back your bag of tasty food in your arms, because you knew that your korean girl was always happy to see you appear with food ; and as if that was out of your thoughts Siyeon opened the door with her usual childish smile and held back from screaming when she saw what you had in your hands, grabbing your heavy bag and trotting into the kitchen to put it down, before running back to you and clinging to you like in the romantic movies.

You couldn't help but smile at her being so dramatic, stroking the top of her head to calm her energy surge and while you still had both feet in the lobby the girl was already on your back plunging her face into your neck.

— Siyeon-ah, I love you but I can't move forward if you're standing on my back like this.

You couldn't hold back the giggle knowing that your girlfriend was already pouting at your remark

— Let me hug you, I missed you so much!

She had gotten off your back dragging her feet in a sulky way to be in front of you and plunging into your arms in the sweetest way you had ever seen; and to think that you were in a relationship with such a wonderful and strange creature that you couldn't help but kiss her all over her face.

— So tell me what do you want to watch tonight, serial kisser ?

Siyeon always had a knack for coming up with the most strangely affectionate nicknames for you and you loved it.

— Oh I saw a trailer for an anime movie on Netflix, wait I'll get it!

Jumping on the spot remembering the movie, you were all happy to finally see it as you remembered that it was released a long time ago but you didn't have the time to see it.

You wrote on the Netflix search bar the animated movie "Over The Moon" it had caught your attention since its release and as you knew your girlfriend loved cartoons you didn't hesitate a second to start the movie.

Siyeon was already sitting on the couch with her arms wide open to welcome you and all your warmth and affection, she loved to feel you close to her and her heart knowing that unfortunately she couldn't do it every day and she would never stop showing how much she loves you.

So when you see her like this, your heart can only melt at how cute she is, you throw yourself into her arms sitting on her lap and resting your head on her chest as she wraps her hands around your waist.

Now concentrated on the movie in front of you since 1 hour, you were really happy to have chosen it it was a really beautiful and interesting animation, some passages were funny and others very surprising but worth preferred were the songs because you could not stop dancing and singing in company of Siyeon.

But strangely the anime comes to an end and you hear less and less your girlfriend on whom you were lying, you think at the beginning that she is asleep which can be understood, however at the time of the last scene you feel the legs of the singer shaking and feel sniffing near your ear. You wonder if she got sick and you turn your head to look at her, and what was your surprise to see your wolf's eyes filled with tears, her cheeks slightly pink and her nose turned up in the most adorable way you have ever seen.

— Are you crying ?

You were often worried when Siyeon started to cry because you knew that the girl used to hide her feelings so as not to annoy those around her, but seeing her crying like this and wiping her cheekbones with the sleeves of her oversized sweater, you couldn't help but laugh out loud at her reaction as you came to pinch her cheeks like the baby she was to you.

— Stop laughing at me, the movie was really sad, she lost the love of her life and had to live on the moon...all alone.

Even though she was trying to explain the reason for her sadness, you were just standing there giggling at that while hugging her affectionately.

— My baby is moved by a kid's movie ?

At your mischievous remark Siyeon gently hit your arm showing her pouty face, she who had a routine of teasing you.

Then you jumped out of the sofa and headed to the kitchen with an idea in mind, Siyeon didn't really know why you got up all of a sudden for no reason, but when she was about to get up too to see what you were up to, her ear was titillated by the clicking of the old CD player that had not been used for many years but she remembered the sound.

You were with your back to your girlfriend putting the right CD track and when the rhythm started, you turned around in a ridiculous way with a ladle in your hand and sunglasses on your nose that you had found in the cupboard (there was everything and anything in the kitchen, especially the stuffed animals in Minji). Singing the beginning of the lyrics in a deep and exaggerated voice to amuse your wolf.

And Siyeon was completely confused at first, it was the first time she saw you singing and dancing even though it was humorous, but remembering your movements as a parody of the scene from Guardians of the Galaxy on the song "Come And Get Your Love" she could only smile at your nonsense.

She soon joined you in grabbing another pair of sunglasses and kitchen tools to use in her noisy musical performance, sometimes joining in with your extravagant dance steps, and jumping up and down on the couch like children on euphoria as you continued your broken vocals.

The playlist continued to scroll and you continued to dance with Siyeon but more gently and your hands clasped between them. Your antics continued until the sound of your partner's laughter, it was a moment that you knew that she was not so sad anymore and that you could finally rest from your performance, you decided to sit on the cool floor with your smiling wolf.

— I'll always remember the day you cried in front of the movie Boss Baby, it was just as hilarious

— It's embarrassing don't mention it!

This time the korean girl's cheeks were red with embarrassment at your anecdotes about her crying over children's movies, and as much as you enjoyed teasing her about it, it was a reason why you loved Siyeon even more, she wasn't afraid to remain the child she sometimes was and allow herself to be emotional.

You can't help but kiss your girlfriend on her whole cute face, stopping her in her justification speech, this side of her was perhaps the most beautiful of her personalities to you because knowing that she was opening up about her feelings in this way was one of the most honest proofs of love to you.

— Lee Siyeon, I love you and everything that goes with it, you don't have to be embarrassed

Even more shy upon hearing you say how much you love her, Siyeon wrapped her arms around your back and hid her face in your neck hugging you in a way to show you all her love too and she whispered so faintly and close to your ear so that you could hear her say those few words just to you.

— It's so easy to love you and I appreciate that... I could easily want to spend my life by your side Y/N

| Sorry for the wait, I have so many exams right now, I hope you like it, I know it's short and I hope one day to be able to do longer and better quality |

[invisibleraven]

Friday! ❤️ "I like looking at you." for Peterpatter?

Luke whistled as he strolled through the museum, the beams of his flashlight catching on the displays as he passed. Throwing a cheeky salute to the camera, knowing it would make Alex sigh and roll his eyes back in the security office, but that's just how their friendship worked.

Luke took his time going through the floors, stopping to admire a new display of artwork from a local artist. He didn't quite get the sculpture made of skateboard pieces, but hey, to each their own right?

Luke never saw himself as a security guard for a living, but it was a pretty sweet gig, giving him lots of time to write his songs, with plenty of time off if he got a gig. Plus he got free admission to the museum, and that was pretty sweet in and of itself.

He always appreciated art, even if that wasn't where his talents lay. The paintings, the sculptures, the weird modern displays that involved scissors hanging from the ceiling, he loved it all.

But he always ended his rounds in the same place, Boy With Sunflower. It was his favourite piece in the entire museum, depicting a pale elfin creature with golden freckles and spring bright eyes. He was smiling impishly at the painter, surrounded by sunflowers, long fingers strumming on a lute that barely covered his modesty.

From the first time he saw it, it had captivated Luke. He's not exactly sure why, but he can never seem to pass the painting by without stopping and starring for at least a moment.

"Hey buddy," he says offhandedly. So he talks to the paintings every so often-it's a lonely job some nights, and Alex spends half of it texting his mysterious boyfriend, so Luke had to amuse himself somehow right? "How's it hanging?"

Luke sits on the bench and keeps his eyes trained on the sultry little smile of the man in the painting. "I'm doing alright. I finally landed the bridge of my new song, hoping to play it at open mice night at Eats and Beats next week. We'll see how it goes over. Maybe I'll sing it for you some day."

Luke sighs, leaning his head back. "I just wish... you could hear me, you know? I like looking at you well enough, but I wish you were a real life guy who could appreciate my music. Give me feedback, or hell, play with me. I think this song would be killer with a bass line and some drums."

He turns his face towards the painting once more, the moonlight almost making the eyes of the man glint, even if that's not possible. Luke gives him a wry grin, rubbing his hand over his face. "Ah well, wishes are dreams, and dreams are pretend. So science and reason win out in the end. Maybe once upon a time you were a real person, no way someone just dreamed you up. But you're just oil on canvas now. So reason says I'm talking to the air, and I should like... download Tinder or something. Find myself a real guy."

Luke eases himself off the bench, bracing the small of his back as he does. "Okay, I gotta mosey on back. Maybe get some jerky and a Red Bull. See you tomorrow?"

Of course there's no answer, but Luke still give the painting a two finger salute and walks back, not noticing the twinkling stars in the sky or the ever present glint of the moon. His head is still full of spring green eyes and that cheeky grin.

The next day Luke comes in before the museum closes to collect his paycheque before his shift starts. And maybe he takes the long way round so he can pass by Boy With Sunflower on his way.

Only that spot on the wall is blank.

He rushes to the office where Mr. Covington, the museum director is sitting, and it looks like he's practicing a card trick when Luke bursts in. "Where's Boy With Sunflower?" he asks, his voice almost frantic.

"Please do come in," Mr. Covington says, his voice full of derision. "And to answer your question, my dear boy, that painting was on loan to us from Silver Lake. It's headed back there now, with our thanks."

"Oh," Luke says, his voice small. "It was my favourite."

"It was a plebeian work, but I guess I could see it's allure," Mr. Covington says, then hands Luke his cheque. "Now, I have a new docent coming in tonight to learn the lay of the land. I trust you and Mr. Mercer won't scare him off."

"Of course not, we'll be as friendly as can be," Luke replies, even if that job sounds more like babysitting than anything.

"Perfect. Mr. Peters is waiting in the security office now, I trust he'll still be in my employ come the morning, so please do go welcome him." The dismissal is clear, so Luke nods and vamooses, heading to his locker for his uniform and then to the office. Alex won't be here for another half hour at least, so Luke supposes he gets first shift on nanny duty.

Only, when he opens the door to the security office, he stops in his tracks. Because the man in front of him is a living, breathing replica of Boy With Sunflower, right down to the golden freckles and playful smile. Luke's heart leaps to his throat, and he holds out a hand.

"Hi, my name is Luke."

"Reggie."

[athanasius-symposium-of-writings]

Running Up That Hill (A Deal With God)

Chapter Eleven

Rated: M

Warnings: Character Death, Religious talk, Murder

A/N: based a bit on some headcanon ideas i got from watching "American Gods"

Chapter Ten | Chapter Twelve

Familia. Dad taught you Spanish when you were a baby, a few words when you could not say it in English. In high school you desperately learned it to converse with your father's side of the family. It was hard because you knew formal Spanish, it didn't come out naturally as theirs. His side of the family didn't want anything with you nor him as he had run off to join the military to get away from them. Dad helped you keep up with it until he left. You spoke it when you sang his favorite songs, or talked to yourself giving self comfort.

Jake speaks it so fluently when he spoke to your father back at the diner. Dad rarely spoke Spanish unless he forcefully had to. It was a personal reason he rather not speak it, you never asked why.

He sang in Spanish tonight, you were fighting to stay awake. Childishly but you wanted to see him off to work. It was an old song called Hallelujah by Leonard Cohen, his mother used to sing it when she cleaned. The song is pretty fucking dark but the way dad sings it is always soothing. His fingers brush down your closing eyes, you yawn, turning away trying to fight sleeping. He shushes you as he goes on singing softly until he hears you softly snoring. A warm smile on his old face, he wishes he could stay longer…

He wishes he had more time.

Long ago, after he left your mother and you, he settled in England. It was not his idea and he was going to settle somewhere but close by. But… He settled far away as if instinctively to run away from the pain.

When your mother died at hospital after a fall, he came to the funeral. Watching in the background as the rain poured. And poured. You left with your aunt, your mother's sister. She didn't want him around you.

He understood why.

A person in black, an old coworker approached him long after he returned to England. The same cop you saw Anubis with.

The craziest story told to him. Ammit, a cult obsessed with the scales of a heart, Arthur Harrow. Anubis appeared before, appeared and asked for his help. Your dad had old connections and could get information.

It was a lot… A real fucking lot to believe the nonsense and creature who spoke through the old colleague.

He refused. Willfully too. Then Anubis' avatar explains that your mom was killed by those who worship Ammit and followed Harrow. Her soul was wrongfully sent to the underworld by God she did not worship.

Cairo was not the only place affected by the one most massively affected.

"I only wish to bring those who still seek to continue to spread her veil will to justice."

Every night dad prays to his God to give him strength and forgiveness. The prayers changed when you started living with him. Asking God to protect his kid, the one good choice he made ever in his life. For all his mistakes and blood on his hands, he never wanted to hurt you.

Jake/Marc being named Godfather (rejected the offer) was the first attempt to make sure you were protected.

"Then as a friend: protect her." Spoken in private.

"... Heh, fine, Sergeant" Moon Knight knew nothing about what your dad was doing.

Was.

Anubis told him the risk. The forces up against them in this quest to destroy any remaining traces of Ammit and those who wished to overturn the underworld.

Your dad found the truth, real power behind these false scales. Something worse that he imagined.

Anubis' boon to your father for protection did nothing as the God known as Set. He should've known that trickster chaotic God would be the cause of further turmoil.

Your dad lays in a blood of his own. Gasping for life, Anubis could only remind by his side. Your dad begged the Underworld God not take his soul, to let his God put him to rest.

Anubis has no place to lay judgment upon his souls, other has his soul and Anubis can only hope your father's slumber is peaceful and dreamless.

[lalazeewrites]

Ahhh, thank you so much for tagging me in such a fun quiz! I am LOVING reading everyone's answers! All of you make me smile so much 😍 @stocious @shinygalaxyperson @energievie 😍

what are some movie / tv quotes that you quote often?

"Keep it secret, keep it safe!" - LOTR (any time I hand anybody anything) "What, like it's hard?" - Legally Blonde A million quotes from Arrested Development, Seinfeld, and Simpsons, because I'm annoying.

what is your favorite flower?

Iris, tulip, daffodil, bleeding hearts.

if you were in avatar: the last airbender what element would you want to bend? earth, fire, water or air?

Water!

what was your first job?

An ice cream shop where I had to sing full length songs about ice cream and also sing every time I got tipped.

what is your favorite breakfast?

Difficult! I'm a breakfast PERSON as a LIFE RULE. I eat breakfast food often more than once a day. Maybe a giant waffle with all three of the fruits. Although my local place does a waffle with bacon and chocolate that I love. But when I say that, I miss meat. You see my problem. Scottish square sausage is the best sausage.

what’s a meal from childhood that you love?

Going fishing with my dad, he'd clean the fish outdoors (or have me scale & gut them), and then he'd fry them til super crisp over the fire, cooking in a pan with masses of butter and salt.

what’s your favorite joke to tell?

My kid is the joke-teller, I'm funny on the fly/in banter.

what’s your favorite animal to see at the zoo?

The reptile & amphibian house!

what’s your go to quick meal to cook / make at home?

Packet ramen that I load up with egg, meat, veggies etc. Chocolate chip pancakes. Omelets with whatever filling is in the fridge.

what’s your go to meal to cook someone to impress them?

Shrimp red curry from scratch, lamb & okra curry (recipe from my Pakistani ex-father-in-law), lasagna.

what’s something you want to do better?

I don't know. I try to be kind to myself and not give myself expectations that may fail, and rather try and work toward a general goal. Like, I would like to continue to learn and grow in handling my PTSD, triggers, and symptoms in a healthy way.

if you’re working do you like your job?

Yup! I love it! I haven't been able to work in 6 months, because of my spine injury, but I'll be back once I heal from surgery. I work at my daughter's grammar school as a recess and lunch monitor, so I get to see her every day, as well as her friends. We have a good time!

do you collect anything? what?                                              

I of course collect all my concert tickets. I collect horror movies, like I have hundreds of horror DVDs, a lot of them obscure (and many of them not). I've been collecting different editions of Anne Rice books since I was 11yrs old.

if you were trapped in a kids tv show, what show would you be okay with being trapped in?

Sailor Moon!

an adults tv show?

God, all the shows I watch & love are all so fucking fraught with Horrors LOL Can I be on Supernatural as long as y'all promise I don't end up like all the other women on the show?

what kind of job did you want as a child?

I wanted to be a garbage lady!!! I wanted to actively help save the environment lol. So, I was always really happy when the garbage people came along to take away the trash and recycling. Later, I wanted to go into zoology. (Didn't do any of those things, I got a scholarship in Theater & Arts lol)

do you follow any sports? what team do you root for?

GLASGOW CELTICS MON THE CELTICS

if you could be any animal what would you be and why?

I've always wanted to be a sea turtle! Drifting and dreaming through the pretty seas and having a million lovely beautiful babies.

if you could be any mythological creature what would you be and why?

Probably like a pan. Y'know, with the goat legs, playing music all day and getting drunk, partying with the other forest fae.

what’s the most obscure thing you’ve had to google for a fanfic you were writing/reading?

I was definitely googling how nuclear power reactors function for Star Trek fic and learned more than I imagined I would lol.

what milkovich do you identify with most?

Ooof, of course Mickey. Growing up terrified of a severely abusive father who would snap at the smallest thing, having an eastern european immigrant family, growing up with anger issues but being excessively soft on the inside, and hey, my parents are chicago born-bred folks (first generation american).

which one are you actually like the most?

ughhhhh. . .Why I gotta decide?! Mickey lol.

what gallagher do you identify with most? 

Fiona. She had to deal with Frank the most. My dad is a lot a lot a lot like Frank (narcisstic alcoholic genius level asshole who is happy to abandon their kid & make them feel bad about it instead of taking responsibility), to the point where I will sometimes get triggered by his presence in an episode and have to stop watching for months at a time when I was first watching the show. She's always trying her best to be everything for everyone, usually to the detriment of her own personal identity and happiness. She's absolutely easily the most like me.

 which one are you actually like the most?

No, still Fiona lol

[the-al-chemist]

Into the Light of the Dark Black Night

A/N: This short story was written as part of @drinkyoursoupbitch’s soundtrack challenge. For this challenge, I was assigned the track “Another Year Ends” from Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire. It’s a mournful, sad piece of music with a hopeful undertone, and this is the story I have written to go alongside it.

The title of this story actually comes from another song, and that song is “Blackbird” by The Beatles. The blackbird theme is one that has recurred through my stories for Artemis; it is the song that she sings for her frog choir audition in Year 3, it is the music that inspired the penultimate chapter of Learning to Fly, and it was referenced when Artemis told Charlie a story from her childhood whilst staying at the Burrow for Christmas in Year 5. It is this story that I have written for the challenge.

Warnings: animal injury, mentions of/references to death, depression, grief, child neglect, and abandonment.

The sun was high in the sky, its beams reflecting on the bobbing waves and warming the umber cliffs. A breeze was rolling in from the sea and across the cliff tops, whipping the already messy dark hair of the little girl running along the path, a slim man following in her wake, his auburn hair graying with age.

Artemis Hexley had been living in Dorset with her great-uncle Newt and great-aunt Tina for several months now. It had been a temporary arrangement at first, Artemis’ mother having been too unwell to look after her after her older brother Jacob disappeared in the night back in November, but the longer Artemis had stayed, the less likely it seemed that she would ever return home to her mother’s house in London.

She knew that most children probably would have been upset by the idea of leaving both their home and their only living parent to stay with aging distant relatives, but Artemis was not like most other children; she was a witch. And, moreover, Uncle Newt was not at all like other relatives. He was a Magizoologist, a wizard who specialised in studying and caring for magical creatures, and a very good one at that. The house he shared with Aunt Tina was also home to a menagerie of creatures: three Kneazles, a particularly naughty Niffler, several Knarls that frequented the back garden, a fireplace full of Salamanders, and a herd of mooncalves that danced on the front lawn every full moon. And not only was Uncle Newt great at caring for these creatures, he always knew exactly where to find them.

Today, he was taking Artemis further along the cliffs to see the orchard where the Bowtruckles had been nesting in the trees. Excited, she ran ahead of him, every now and then alternating her quick steps with a clumsy cartwheel, until she reached the orchard, where the trees were swaying gently in the wind. She fell almost completely silent; Bowtruckles were shy creatures, and she would be unlikely to see any if she made any loud noises.

But, as she stayed quiet, she became able to hear a noise coming from the grass underneath a nearby tree. She frowned. It didn’t sound like a Bowtruckle, more like a bird, and not a very happy bird at that.

Artemis decided to investigate, and on doing so, she found herself to be right. Under the tree stood a small blackbird, chirping sadly as he held his wing out to his side. The feathers had been ruffled, and it looked like there was a cut on the wing, but when Artemis tried to get a closer look, the blackbird hopped away from her, looking frightened.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you,” Artemis told the blackbird. “I just wanted to look at your wing. It looks like it’s been scratched. Did one of the Kneazles scratch you? Was it Mauler? He scratched me once, too. Look.” She pointed to her cheek, where she still had a small scar from the time she had tried to pick Mauler the Kneazle up without asking first. “Can I pick you up? I won’t hurt you, I promise, I just want to take you to my Uncle. He’ll be able to fix your wing for you so you can fly again.”

The blackbird didn’t seem overly happy about being picked up, but he at least didn’t scratch Artemis when she tried. She held him as gently as possible as she carried him back along the cliff path to Uncle Newt.

“What have you found, Artemis?” he asked her, crouching down to look at what she had in her hands. “A blackbird?”

Artemis nodded. “He’s got a poorly wing. Can you fix it?”

Uncle Newt took the little bird from Artemis and carefully examined it, all the while murmuring to it so softly that she couldn’t hear exactly what he was saying. Eventually, he looked up at Artemis and sighed.

“You can make him better again, can’t you?” she asked him.

“I can try,” said Uncle Newt. “But he will need some medicine to fix his wing, and he’s very weak. He’ll need a lot of looking after, and-”

”That’s fine. I can look after him. I know how to look after creatures now.”

But Uncle Newt wasn’t finished.

“And,” he said pointedly, “even if we fix the wing, he might just be too poorly to get better.”

“He will get better,” Artemis told Uncle Newt, sounding more confident than she felt. “I’ll make sure of it.”

She and Uncle Newt returned to the house having found no Bowtruckles, but with the injured blackbird. Aunt Tina had raised her eyebrows when she saw the bird in Uncle Newt’s hands, but she helped Artemis to find a box and a small towel to give the bird as a bed, and promised that she would keep the Kneazles far away from him. Uncle Newt showed Artemis what to feed the bird and how to give him the medicine, and let her stay up late to do it herself before bed, telling her that they would have to wait and see how the blackbird was in the morning.

Even with a late night, however, Artemis struggled to sleep. She was still awake - though she laid still and pretended not to be - when her great-aunt and uncle went to bed themselves, and in the very middle of the night, she snuck downstairs to check on the little blackbird.

“Hi,” she whispered to him. “It’s me again. Artemis. I wanted to make sure you were still here. Uncle Newt and Auntie Tina said that you’re really poorly and you might die, and I just wanted to tell you that I’ll be really sad if you do.” She gnawed on her bottom lip before continuing, “You know, my dad died the year before last, and my granny had to go and live in the home for old Muggles before that, and then my brother just ran away from home before Christmas, and my mum is so sad about it that it made her too sick to look after me. It would be really selfish and unfair of you if you died as well. So please don’t. Goodnight.”

With that, Artemis left the blackbird to his bed and returned to her own, making sure to close the door behind her so that Mauler couldn’t get to him. She tossed and turned most of the night, and woke up before the sun rose the next morning. The first thing she did was to run downstairs to see the blackbird, and was delighted to see that he had clearly listened to her pep talk the night before: he was still alive, and looking rather well.

If Uncle Newt and Aunt Tina were annoyed about being woken up so early, they hid it well. While Aunt Tina made a pot of coffee, Uncle Newt brought the blackbird into the kitchen and checked him over, and this time when he finished, he smiled at Artemis.

“Well done,” he said. “This little one is feeling a lot better.”

“That’s brilliant!”

“It is. We can take him back home once we’ve had some breakfast and gotten changed.”

“But we are already at…” Artemis’ voice tailed off as she realised what Uncle Newt meant. “Do we have to put him back in the orchard? Can’t I keep him as a pet?”

“A pet?”

“Yeah. I can teach him to carry my letters for me.”

“He’s a bit small to carry letters, honey,” Aunt Tina laughed, but the look she shared with her husband was one of apprehension.

“Not if I write them really, really tiny,” said Artemis, not ready to give up just yet. “I promise that I’ll look after him properly. Please can I keep him? Can I?”

She knew that Aunt Tina would be reluctant, but she was hopeful that Uncle Newt would agree to her request. But when she looked back at him with her eyes wide and pleading, he sighed and shook his head.

“You can’t keep him as a pet,” he said. “He needs to go back to his home.”

“He can have a new home here, like me,” Artemis argued. “He’ll like living here, he likes me. I fixed him so he could fly again.”

“Yes, and now he needs to be set free so that he can fly. He’s a wild animal, Artemis.”

“But the Knarls and the Mooncalves are wild, too, and they live here.”

“But they aren’t pets,” Uncle Newt explained with a soft, sad chuckle. “They choose to live here. The Salamanders chose to make their home in that fireplace, and the Mooncalves choose to dance on our lawn. We don’t make them do it, they do it because they want to. That’s what makes it so special.”

Artemis pouted. It would be special to have a blackbird carry her letters for her, too.

“Oh, honey,” sighed Aunt Tina. “Think about it this way. You wouldn’t like to be cooped up inside or working hard to carry letters for someone when there was a whole big sky for you to explore, would you?”

“I guess not,” Artemis said grudgingly. “If I set the blackbird free, will he choose to come back like the Knarls?”

“Maybe. Maybe not. You won’t know until you let him go.”

But Artemis did not want to let the blackbird go. Uncle Newt shared another glance with Aunt Tina, before crouching down to talk to Artemis face-to-face.

“He is wild,” he told her. “Wild things need to be free.”

Though everything about him was gentle, there was a note of finality in Uncle Newt’s voice that made Artemis nod her head, even though she didn’t really want to. She barely touched the breakfast Aunt Tina offered her, and left for the orchard - dressed in her pyjamas and wellington boots - far less enthusiastically than she had the day before, trudging after her great-aunt and uncle with the cardboard box containing the blackbird cradled in her arms.

“I still wish I could keep you as a pet,” she whispered. “But I guess that even if you could deliver my letters, I might not be allowed to bring a blackbird with me when I go to Hogwarts. And Uncle Newt knows more about creatures than I do. If he says it’s unfair not to set you free, he’s probably right. I will miss you, though. It would be nice if you would come back sometimes. I am actually getting pretty fed up of people leaving me and not coming back.”

Inside the box, the blackbird let out a quiet tweet, which she assumed meant that he had once again heard her and was agreeing to do the right thing. She hoped that was what he meant, anyway.

When they reached the orchard, the sun was just starting to rise, and the line where the still waters of the sea met the gradually lightening sky was glowing orange. It was peaceful, with only a gentle breeze and the movement of the Bowtruckles stirring the leaves of the trees.

Artemis took a deep breath, placed the box on the ground where she had first found the blackbird, and opened the lid. At first, nothing happened, but then, with a series of merry tweets that almost made Artemis’ heart break, the blackbird took flight, rising up into the air, over the trees, and into the sky. The great big sky.

There really was a lot of it to explore, Artemis thought. And the blackbird would enjoy that, now that he was free.

[sabraeal]

A Coin to the Hangman

[Read on AO3]

From above, Tar Valon sits like a coin between the fingers of the River Erinin, a trick not yet taken. Even now, Obi expects to see it flash across knuckle-backs, weaving in and out as a caller takes his bets. Fitting, since this blasted Tower is the best sleight of hand he’s seen outside some Light-begotten back alley, and all of the Westlands has fallen for it like some hayseed fallen straight from the wagon.

The plaza is churning with revelers, all celebrating the arrival of Cairhien’s princes. Oh, the people of Tar Valon may scorn those who claim fealty to an ass upon a throne, but tonight they rejoice as if these ones were their own, their perfect princes with flaxen hair and eyes as bright as jewels. Even from here, Obi can make out the stained-glass flower of Wisteria on their pennants, snapping sharply in the wind.

He snorts, the sound carried away into the shadow. These Aes Sedai claim themselves free of men, but it is as Tevta always told him: a tiger cannot help but show its stripes. He saw well enough the looks that passed between Amyrlin and would-be king; this feast is nothing more than a flirtation, a lover’s game writ large for the whole world to see.

A fine enough distraction for Obi’s business. Better for the marath’damane to let themselves be seduced by the song of power that such men sing. Certainly he would have never gotten this far if the Warders barred his way; after all, trainees were not allowed in the White Tower. No, that was an honor saved solely for the witches’ creatures, men led around by their necks like a damane without a single leash in sight. Any other night he would have been sent away, told to find a Sister that would take pity on a scrawny boy like him.

But it is not his so-called brothers who watch the Tower now. No, that would be the Cairhienin, outnumbering them two-to-one, and in their eyes, any man with a camouflage cloak is Warder. Haruka’s had done the job as well as any, and oh, how that old man will burn to know that it was his that was around the shoulders of the one who burnt this pile to embers.

The wind whips past him, prying at his fingers and threatening to throw him from the stone. A hundred spans stretch between him and the plaza beneath, the strength of his grip-- and these ornaments-- the only thing between him and a lethal dose of failure. But it's useless to fear death; he hasn’t, these ten long years, and he won’t now-- not when the end is already so close, and all that is left is the mission

You will go into that Tower one day, Tevta had told him, glaring up at those stones. But you will not come out of it.

I know, he’d said, just a boy. I know.

Silver burns at his wrist, the way it has every day since she slipped it on him, the bands closing in like a noose. Ten long years he’s worn them, smiling when his brothers tugged his pretty trinkets, laughing as they asked if he hoped to catch the eye of some pretty Sister--

Oh, he’d hum, mouth curling around a secret. I know it will catch at least one.

It’d been a clever answer, or at least a coy one, the sort that kept his brothers at arm’s length without feeling that they’d been put there. Or at least, it had been until a few months ago, when Shiira had simply laughed, And I think we all know which one Nanaki is hoping for.

Carved stone bites dully into his gloves, blunted by time and leather. Let them think what they like, that little Accepted has never-- he’s never--

He huffs, shaking his head, knocking a bit of loose stone from beneath his feet. There’s no time to be thinking about this; the Amyrlin might linger at the banquet, wooed by minstrels’ songs and the prince’s sweet words, but the last thing he needs is to get made when he’s hanging by his fingers. Not that it’s likely to happen, but all one of those clods below has to do is look up.

No moon marks him as he scurries the last few feet to the window, hoisting himself onto its casement. With a quick pass of a blade, Obi succeeds where so many have failed, slipping right through the Tower’s much-vaunted security into the Amyrlin’s inner sanctum.

Now all there is to wait. It’s hours yet until dawn, and with princes to impress and a royal entourage to entertain, she’ll doubtlessly be in the Hall for--

“Mind your boots,” a feminine voice warns, muffled through the door. “I’ll have you know, the carpets are priceless.” 

Burn him, but his luck is shit. It seems that even in this bloody tower, when the cat’s away the mice will play. Leave it to these meddlesome witches to violate even what they hold sacred--

“I promise,” a masculine one rumbles, “it will not be the first I’ve ruined.”

Obi stiffens, every drop of blood in his veins turning to ice. That is not just any man’s voice, oh not, but-- but--

“Izana,” the Amyrlin sighs, that playful way girls do when they want their worries to be replaced by kissing. “Do you mean to make me write your mother? She would be horrified to know that you were such a poor guest, and in the White Tower as well.”

The Prince of Cairhien hums, a sound nearly lost in the groan of the door as it opens. “Perish the thought.”

And just like that, he stands in the presence of the two most powerful minds of the Westlands, with only the shadows to cover him.

It takes but a breath for him to act, dropping to a crouch so deep his thighs burn. As a boy, he could squat for hours, playing dice and cards in back alleys and street corners for hours before nature would catch up with him. But now he creeps frog-like across the floor, crawling to where the shadows spread thickest, and curses every inch. Warders may be trained to move silently, to strike from the shadows, but they were not meant to move as sneak-thieves in the night.

“So this is the inner sanctum of the Amyrlin.” Boot heels clack across the floor, muffled when they reach that priceless carpet. “Somehow I expected something more...opulent. Ornate, maybe. Something more befitting of a queen.”

Obi blinks. Trust a prince to look at a desk sung into shape by an Ogier and a carpet woven in Kirendad and find it lacking.

“I’m sorry to disappoint, Your Highness,” the Amyrlin hums, not the least bit contrite. “But the Seat is not just one of power, but of service. I am much less a queen and more a...steward. I distinction that I’m sure Her Majesty has conveyed to you many a time.”

The prince’s back is to him, but still, Obi hears the way his lips curl around the words, all satisfaction. “Only every time I speak of you. Though she’s more apt to name you parent rather than steward.”

His fingertips drag over the smooth sung-wood, an invitation to think on where else they might linger. Light preserve him, but he does not need to see this witch and her Westerland prince flirt.

“I suppose that is why they call you Mother,” he murmurs thoughtfully, tracing down the spine of a quill. “Is that what you would like me to call you now?”

His voice drops, and it is not only the Amyrlin that shivers. Burn him, but a man that looks the way His Highness doesn’t need such a silver tongue as well. The Wheel certainly has its favorites.

Her head shakes, the golden loops of her hair quivering in the lamplight. “There’s no need for that, not from you.” Her eyelashes flutter, and though all these Sedai are ageless, the Amyrlin has never looked more like a girl. “You are not one of my children after all.”

The Amyrlin take no husbands, but light hits her, illuminating her eyes like the sun behind sapphires, and Obi realizes-- this one might have been a woman who expected to, until the Tower had its way. One who might have been a queen in truth had she never learned how deep the river of saidar ran.

And had she been born across the sea, into his streets, she would live on her knees, the way her kind were meant to.

A laugh chimes from the prince’s chest, but it’s off-tune, a note just nearly missed. “If I were, it would certainly put what happened between us beyond the pale.”

The Amyrlin gasps, and oh, they might not take husbands, but Obi is suddenly aware that they might yet lay with men. A possibility he’ll be in a position to witness, if he keeps hiding around this corner, listening to Cairhien’s prince make love to her. “N-nothing ever happened between us.”

“Is that so?” She turns from the prince as he approaches, words silken and honeyed. “I remember a kiss, stolen behind shelves.”

This would be the time to move-- both their backs are to him, and it would be easy to slip through the window, to wait in the whipping winds for their business to finish and their eyes to close, but--

But steel flashes golden in the light, poised above her, and in an instant he knows: that is not simply a knife, but something more, something darker. He moves, but it is not toward his window, not like how he means to, but toward the prince, hands outstretched.

“Mother!” he calls out, cursing himself as she turns, those gem-lit eyes widening. A silver bangle parts beneath his grasp, and it is not until his body slams into blue velvet that he realizes-- he is saving her. A damane is not worth the spittle a man sprays on her, but yet here he is, clasping the a’dam made for her around this man’s neck, struggling to keep him on the ground.

A fool’s move, now that he has a moment to think. The a’dam is meant to hold a damane, not a man; without that perverted power running through him--

A spark fizzles beneath his skin. Obi’s joints stiffen, terror gripping him as he sees the knife laying on the floor, as he realizes the blade is not steel but carved onyx. Not a noble’s dagger, cast by a smith to meet a need but-- but--

An angreal. No, not just any angreal, meant to be used by a witch who could channel, but a sa’angreal, forged in the Age of Legends, able to channel enough power to kill even the mother of the Aes Sedai.

A useless item to a man. Unless, unless...

That spark becomes flame, becomes a conflagration, racing up the track of his arm, barreling toward his heart. There’s a scream, and it’s not until he’s on his back that he realizes it’s his, he is the one screaming into the night, so loud glass could shatter.

The a’dam is meant for damane, and damane are not men. No, there are stories about such things, about the disasters that are wrought by a man being bound by a sul’dam, and he hasn’t just bound a channeler, but--but--

“Darkfriend,” the Amyrlin hisses, her slipped shuffling away from where they struggle. “Izana...when? How could you have...?”

He wants to warn her it is not that, that the trouble is far, far worse, but he cannot answer, not when it is taking all he has to keep the fire from his heart. It is little comfort that the prince is no more comfortable, gasping and writhing as he claws at his neck, foul shadows weaving between his fingers before gasping into nothing. It is Tevta who is the sul’dam, no matter her disgrace, Tevta who should be the one handling this snake of a man, but she is not here.

All they have is him.

The fire burns inside him; a pain so searing that even he can’t contain it, can’t will it away. It eats at him, gnawing, consuming, trying to make its way to his chest, but--

But he grips it. Not with his hands, but with his mind, pulling and pulling even as his vision blurs, white around the edges, then black. It hurts so much he can barely stand it, struggling to stay conscious, and that-- that is how he knows it’s the right thing.

Well, that and the way the prince rears onto his knees, clawing at his throat, screaming and screaming until--

The silver breaks. And all at once, the prince is gone, only the barest hint of shadow remaining behind.

“Ah,” he rasps, his head dropping against the priceless carpet. “Does that make me king now?”

“Nanaki!”

Ah, look at that. The Amyrlin knows his name. One of them, at least.

“Nanaki, stay--” she crouches over him, flinching as she stares down at his chest. “Oh, blood and ashes. Tomomi. Tomomi!”

Distantly, he hears a door fly open. “Mother! What--?”

“Bring that girl to me.” There’s steel in her eyes when the Amyrlin looks back at him. “The one sitting with Zen. We’re going to need one of her miracles tonight.”

Don’t, he wants to say as black rolls over his vision. If I see her again, I might like her.

When he wakes, he’s warm. In terrible pain, but...comfortable.

“Ah!” That gasp bubbles through him, curiosity opening his eyes before conscious thought can. The room is bleary, the sunlight turning everything bright and painful, but he makes out red, and then green far too close. “Obi, you’re awake.”

“Am I?” he mutters blearily. “Where...?”

He glances down at his wrist, bandages tight and aching beneath them. To his chest, covered in a cloth so bloody it’s brown. He’s alive, and yet...

His brows furrow. “How do you know that name?”

“Ah...”

Her smile comes into focus, the one he hates to see, only today it’s toothy and nervous, not sweet. Enough to set his own heart into a rabbit’s beat, fluttering and anxious, and--

That’s not his. That anxiety, it’s-- it’s--

“Stay calm,” Shirayuki tells him, her name as known to him as all of his. “I’m afraid...I had to do something that was very...unpopular.”

He blinks slowly, calming his racing pulse. He can’t help but notice that her own breathing calms as well. “Is it something I’m not going to like?”

“I don’t know you well enough to say, but...” Silver flashes behind his eyes, the memory of a charred bracelet on the ground by a wrist. His wrist. “I’m going to guess...no.”

“Oh,” he groans, eyes closed. Isn’t that just his luck. “Blood and ashes.”

[ask-healthy-light]

First Meetings

I won't lie and say that I was a suave and charming stallion at the time, and that I somehow managed to sweep the Princesses off their feet. In fact, I think the opposite is true. Took a while for any charm to develop. I'd say that even back then, I was not the subtlest of creatures. But then again, I never claimed to be. It all started with me hiding in a bush, holding my breath, not moving a muscle. Honestly, I don't even remember what I was doing in there in the first place. I think I got startled because I had heard something approaching, and I hid, as I was worried it was one of the town bullies, who finally decided to chase me deep into the Forest. Either way, as I hid in the bush, a tree fell on me, nearly crushing me. I have no idea how I didn't notice it breaking and falling, as I was very aware of my surroundings. Thank my lucky stars, it just pinned me by the legs, so I sat there for a while. I couldn't go anywhere, and it was too heavy too lift on my own. So… I started to sing an old tune to cheer me up. It was the wedding song I had once heard my father sing to my mother. It was old, and very few knew the song, but at the time, it was the only thing I had to comfort me a little. Perhaps it could grant me a little hope that one day, I'd find what they had, even if it was just a fantasy back then. That's when she came up to me: the embodiment of the Sun. My Sunlight. Heh… She just strolled up to me and smiled. I hadn't even noticed her as she listened to me sing the song. Luna soon joined her, but the two of them stayed quiet and simply listened, before I finally noticed them. I was surprised to say the least, for I had never heard of an Alicorn back then. There were a lot more of them, thousands of years ago, but I had never met any, until that day. My town was small and nameless, so it's not like they were from there. Once I noticed them standing there, though, Celestia offered to help me, and Luna shortly after. With the two of them helping me lift the tree, I was freed in no time at all. When I finally could stretch my legs again, they asked me why I was here, all alone in the forest, and what I was doing. I told them the truth, I was just talking to the Sun, and the Moon and the stars. I'll never forget the look they gave me, for it was absolutely priceless. They asked what I meant, and I showed them. I told them how everything had a soul, from trees to rocks, beasts to plants. Even the Sun, the Moon and the stars. If you spoke with them, they would listen. Little did I know, that they were my Sun and Moon, and they were listening, right then and there. I guess it's funny, looking back and seeing how things turned out. Once we were done talking, they soon left. I certainly didn't expect to see them again after that, yet the next night, they were there again, and they asked to hear me sing again. I was never one to disappoint a beautiful mare, especially the two of them. Turns out, I did have some charm after all. Written by: @thedumbguywithaheart43 Edited by: @jdeck306

(Thanks for reading! And if you enjoyed, please reblog! Thanks in advance!)

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