#some folks dont

[starry-bi-sky]

(Part of this post with older brother danyal al ghul)

...Okay, look. Sam knows she's staring. She knows very well that she is staring. And that if she doesn't stop staring it's gonna draw her unwanted attention, and that will only have to make her explain why she's staring. Which she doesn't want to do.

She's trying not to stare, which she thinks she should get brownie points for. She tries to look away, to find a spot on the wall to stare lifelessly at, maybe she can burn holes into some of these annoying socialites' heads. But eventually her eyes drift, and suddenly she's back to staring again.

Can you blame her though? Damian Wayne looks like a very close mini-me of her fucking best friend. Seriously, it's like looking into a mirror to the past. If that mirror to the past had green eyes rather than blue and a distinctive lack of a facial scar.

The first time she sees him when her parents drag her over to Bruce Wayne to butter up to him she has to do a doubletake. Then a triple take. Then a quadruple take, just for good measure that she was seeing what she was actually seeing. She was sure she looked like one of those stress toys that when squeezed had their eyes pop out comically like a Saturday morning cartoon, that's what she certainly felt like anyways.

Look, Danny's come a decent way from being that scowl-y, jerkish little ten year old she first met when he arrived like the wind to Amity Park five years ago (even if he was still occasionally scowl-y and jerkish), but one thing that's stayed the same is how reserved he is about his home life prior to being taken in by the Fentons.

He doesn't talk about it much, and Sam's come to know that he's very good at changing the subject when it gets brought up. Even after being friends for nearly four years, the only thing she and Tuck know for certain is that he has a little brother that he refers to as 'starlight', whom he cares a lot about but left on really bad terms with. And that he's never met his father, but wants to and knows who he is.

He's never told her or Tucker who he was though, and glancing at Bruce Wayne, Sam is realizing why. She can begrudgingly acknowledge all the good he's done for Gotham, but... well, if Danny told her that Bruce Wayne was his dad, she wouldn't have believed him at all.

But she's starting to see the resemblance, as subtle as it is.

And she sees the resemblance to Damian Wayne, her eyes dropping back down to him as he wears a very Danny-like scowl on his face, arms crossed behind his back as his eyes swept around the ballroom. He was five years younger than Danny, and god it was so, so weird.

His eyes turned on to her, and they locked gazes for a moment.

Involuntarily, Sam makes a startled noise and looks away. Fingers tap against her purse, black and purple and unfortunately a clutch that only held her phone and her wallet in it. She would have kept a knife on her, but her parents put their foot down and there was a security detail at the door. Only in Gotham.

Silently, she was hoping that the little Danny-me didn't say anything. Or at least, he hadn't noticed her staring. Which was a tall order if she ever heard one -- and unfortunately, her silent prayers went unanswered as her mother's eyes dropped down onto her.

"Did you say something, Samantha?" She asks in a sickeningly sweet voice, a sound that makes Sam's skin crawl. Her dad and Bruce Wayne's attention also turns onto her, and she glowers at her mom from the corner of her eye.

"I didn't say anything." Sam says, barely keeping her tone polite as she turned her head away. Her mother clucks her tongue, disapproving, but from her peripherals doesn't pester her more

Bruce Wayne, the bastard, takes that time to turn to Sam and grace her with his dime-a-dozen billboard smiles. "I've been talking with your parents this whole time, Miss Manson, you must be terribly bored. How is your schooling going?"

Sam eyes him up and down. On one hand, she immediately wants to be snarky. It's none of his business what her school life is like, she doesn't care for his fucking small talk.

On the other hand, this was Danny's whole father. Someone who she knows that Danny has wanted to meet for, what she's assuming, his whole life. He's never brought it up much, but she remembers that very quiet, solemn conversation she and Tucker had with him where he admits to having never met his dad. But god does he want to.

And... wait. Sam's eyes narrow, and she meets Bruce Wayne's eyes. Does this man even know Danny exists? She drops her gaze down to Damian, who was staring at her suspiciously, and then back up to Bruce, and she alternates between them.

Why was Damian living with Bruce, but not Danny? Why hasn't Bruce done anything to reach out to him - what was going on with Danny's biological family that Danny had to be separated from them, but not Damian? Danny's always been kinda mysterious, but now things weren't adding up.

Was Danny given up? Does Bruce just not want Danny, but wanted Damian? Why the fuck does Bruce Wayne know about Damian but not her best friend -- or does he know and just not care? He's fought for custody for his adoptive kids before, does he just not want to fight for his other biological son? Does he think Danny's not worth it?

She's never cared much about the Wayne family before, other than to hear about the advancements on WE's eco-friendly tech, but Sam thinks she's gonna have to look into why Damian Wayne was living with the Waynes.

Slowly, with a protective anger beginning to burn in her gut and crawl up her throat, a scowl slowly curls at the corner of her lip as she redirects her glare from her mother onto Bruce. "It's going fine," She says curtly, jutting her chin out defiantly. "Me and my friend Danny started a petition to fix the leaky faucets in the girls and boys' bathrooms in order to conserve more water for the rest of the city."

She eyes his face, waiting to see if anything like recognition flashes through it. And- and nothing. Sam breathes in slowly through her nose, trying to quell the red that's blurring the edge of her vision -- does he just, not know where Danny is?

Her parents however, make vaguely displeased expressions. "Our Samantha is... quite passionate about her pet projects." Her dad says, laughing low and nervously, "she's very vocal about silly things like that."

"Her friend Daniel is perhaps even worse than she is sometimes." Her mother adds on, fanning her face with her perfectly manicured hands with a sigh. "I swear, he's the one that keeps dragging her into these things."

Sam's anger turns on its head, and she whirls on her heel like a fire-breathing dragon. "It's Danyal." It rolls out like instinct. Danny's told them both that he hates the Americanized pronunciation of his name, but in a rare moment of restraint, puts up with it for reasons unknown to her. "And Danny doesn't make me do anything, it was my idea."

The name, Danyal, seems to ring some kind of bell in Brucie Wayne's head, because she sees him and Damian quietly perk up like two cats pricking up their ears. Her eyes flick onto him immediately, something dangerous rearing its head. So Bruce Wayne knows about Danny. And he's not reaching out to him. Is he? She's not sure.

She does know that she's gonna rip his throat out if she finds out that he's known about Danny this entire time and has been ignoring him while favoring his little brother. She'll hunt down Aragon herself and steal his dragon-shifting amulet and wreck house on Bruce Wayne if that's the case. Batman and his league of vigilantes be damned. Her parents don't notice her slowly turning head towards Bruce.

But Bruce does, and she makes direct eye contact with him. His smile doesn't falter, he just tilts his head like a curious puppy and looks at Sam's parents. She hopes Bruce can read minds, she hopes he can hear her threatening him.

"Danyal?" He asks, and Sam doesn't know if she hates the fact that he said it correctly or not. She just continues burning holes into him and hoping he might spontaneously combust.

Her mother waves her hand dismissively, tilting her nose up poshly into the air. "Our dear Samantha's little... foster friend from school," she says, not even bothering to hide her disdain, "a creepy little boy with the most garish scar on his face. He's a rude little thing, not good for polite company."

Scratch that, Sam mentally alternates between ripping into her parents and Bruce. She whirls on them. "Do not talk about Danny that way." She all but snarls, and they all but ignore her.

(She's tearing up the upholstery when she gets home. She's going to paint over the fine china. She's going to do something to make them pay for this.)

"Oh yes, he was taken in by that freaky Fenton family a few years ago." Her dad continues in lieu of her mom, and they both shake their heads disapprovingly. "It's just what our city needs, another menace."

"Danny is not a menace." Sam continues, raising her voice while her hands shake with rage. Her parents finally look at her, but she can already tell that they're going to scold her for raising her voice. She bulldozes over them and jabs her black-painted finger at them. "He's got a bigger heart than the both of you combined."

"Samantha, please." her mom says, exasperated. They both give her disapproving looks, Sam thinks about grabbing champagne off the tray of a nearby waiter and throwing it in their faces. "You defend that boy far too much. What do you actually know about him and his family?"

Sam sets her jaw, puffing herself up like a dragon protecting its hoard. She steps into her mom's space. "I know that he loves the stars; you can ask him anything about astronomy and he could give you an entire lecture on the formation, class types, and various gasses that stars are made up of. He can tell you how the Earth was formed, he can tell you about the visible light spectrum and about light curves, and a whole ton of other stuff that I don't really understand. But Danny loves talking about it."

Her face twists and scowls, "I know he cares a ton about the environment and about fixing light pollution, and preserving the forests and natural habitats of animals." She nearly jabs her finger into her mom's chest, "I know he loves dogs, and that there's one he feeds every day on the way to school that he calls Cujo, its a St. Bernard puppy and Danny carries him around whenever he sees him after school, and is in the middle of training him."

It's not a total lie, but it's not the whole truth either. Cujo doesn't need food, but Danny gives him it anyways. "I know he likes spicy food and loves movies but specifically only sci-fi and horror, and he hates most martial arts movies. His favorite superhero is the Martian Manhunter, but Batman comes in at a close second." For reasons to her that were pretty unknown, but it didn't matter.

"I know he loves wordplay and making puns, which I would have never expected from him when we first met, but it's so unbelievably Danny-like that I can't imagine him not making puns." And she smiles a little to herself, she remembers the first time Danny intentionally made a pun once and it got startled laughs out of both her and Tucker.

Her smile suddenly falters, and she swallows. Her lips purse up, wobbling, and she very quickly glances over to Damian Wayne, of whom is watching her with a vaguely bewildered expression alongside Bruce.

She turns her eyes back onto her parents. "And I know that he worries a lot, even if he has a shit way of showing it. I know he had a little brother that he hasn't seen since he was adopted by the Fentons, and he doesn't talk about him often but when he does he he calls him 'starlight'." From the corner of her eye, she sees Damian jerk.

"So- so, so what if he's not 'good for polite company'." Sam's voice, embarrassingly, cracks down the middle. But she's so angry over Danny's behalf that she doesn't really care. "Or that he can be mean, and critical, and stubborn. He's learning, and he's becoming kinder by the day. That's more than I can say about you."

(She remembers when Danny finally admitted to her and Tucker being his 'closest friends'. It was sometime before the portal incident, and it felt like a milestone because beforehand he only really referred to them as his companions or allies.)

(At the time, he'd looked unsure of himself. Skittish like a stray in the back of an alleyway, almost shy in his own way. It had come out stilted, slow, like an infant taking its first steps, and it would have been endearing if it hadn't been heartbreaking.)

Her parents rear back like she'd struck them, and her mother holds a hand against her chest in aghast. Sam doesn't care, she blinks the sting out of her eyes. "Samantha." Her mother starts.

Sam cuts her off, "I don't care what you have to say, you-- you pricks." she snaps, around her, there are gasps. Belatedly, she realizes she's grown an audience, but again she doesn't care. "Danny might be an asshole, but he cares. And I'd rather be around someone whose mean but cares, than someone whose nice but doesn't."

With that, she whirls on her foot and turns on Bruce Wayne, who has been silent the entire time with a surprised expression on his face. He starts to shake out of it when Sam turns to him, but she doesn't give him the chance to speak. "Enjoy your party." She snarls, and then stalks away.

[filurig]

OK I WENT AND SCANNED THE ZINE I MADE AND... here are most of the pages - so every middle "spread" has one left and right page on the back of it and then a bigger pic once its unfolded, but didnt include every side for every larger spread.

this basically explores a bit of folke and adrian's relationship - adrian, the Creature, ends up finding folke's brother's recently deceased corpse and imitates his appearence, the only real way for a basilisk in their world to learn to shapeshift into something.

So their relationship is a bit complicated. but also, it ends up eventually settling into something that isnt only full of bitterness...

[iooiu]

playing around with future donnie’s design and all i can say for sure is this:

1) lose an arm gain three

2) dies

[twottie-m8]

[eskildit]

wonder what palamedes’ dad is like. the little we know about him seems to suggest hes just a normal sixth house citizen. took a sabbatical to parent palamedes, not a member of the oversight body. shout out to this man who was living a normal life and then his thirteen year old son became his boss.  

[cottoncandylesbo]

TOMORROW.

hi. soooo... i might (ALLEGEDLY) have made a couple of Bad deals and now MEAT PLANET LLC. needs to raise some funds.

i'll have some loyal employees there with me- here's how YOU can fucking help!

[frostedpuffs]

* If you want them to break up but get back together/get together as a different side of the love square, that still counts as a "Yes"

[5mary5]

This is kind of..an au i guess? I hope the end isnt too... sudden? I just hope it makes sense since I'm not much of a writer, wanted to get this out of my chest and share it with yall

Obey me with a player who got isekaid inside the game?

You know hose manhwas where the mc reads/plays this game and then when they go to sleep they are isekaid inside of what they were reading/playing and they use the knowledge they have to survive in this world? What I'd this happened with out mc?

Like there are SO many ways this could go right?, for one you could completely ignore belphegors cries for help at the start of the game before you go up the stairs to meet him, survive the year without getting close to the brothers and just..go but go where exactly? This isn't your world right? Noone knows you here, you mom or dad aren't here non of your siblings (if you have any) or friends or even your cousins and grandparents, you are all alone

So you decide to go through how the original game goes because what is there to lose right? And somehow let's day you do it, ypu make the pacts, travel time lines, meet lillith, and gain their trust but what happens when the exchange program comes to end? Diavolo wants to send you home, to the human world, but this isn't your home.

So what if you try to explain to diavolo that you are from another universe? you have this uneasy feeling, as if something- or more like someone is watching you- As If warning you that what you are about to do is a bad idea

There's only one person demon who knows both the past present and the future, is it □□□□□□□□□□□□? Or maybe □□□□□□□□? Are they the same person?

[wavernot4love]

hey idkhow folks i just want to say some stuff about tonight's show as someone who was there, in a completely respectful manner (this is mostly just me talking to myself because i just feel bad & want to help in these situations):

so tonight a handful of songs were cut from the setlist - sixft, sunnyside, visitation, boring, i may not be thinking of something else.

all night dallon was being really open, moreso then usual expressing gratefulness for the crowd & band and basically repeatedly saying it was a blessing he gets to do this and have the kind of problems he has, lots of emphasis on turning negative things into something beautiful etc, which i now see probably ties into the other stuff -

choke came super early, then razzmatazz, then everyone walked off stage.

dallon walked back out and immediately led us in all just singing a song together pretty emotionally, acapella, my memory is failing me but it's a popular older song (a cover). he was mostly sitting on the stage during this.

then came opening band. of the band, just anthony came back out for this one. dallon came into the crowd, something i'd never heard of for that before, and no theatrics like with visitation, we just sang together, and he stayed out with us for a really long time.

overall dude just seemed rather sad/off. don't want to elaborate too much but trust it was significant enough that it had me (and others) genuinely worried. but moments like opening band seemed to mend that & just were great moments of connection. in that moment, everything was alright.

some of us waited after, kinda out of concern/wanting to make sure everything was ok.

maybe 20 minutes ago homie walked out to the bus and smiled and waved to the couple of sections of us (we all kept our distance & just sat there, it was just maybe a dozen of us). we waved back & told him to take care and stuff. he still seemed down, but i was just glad to see he was ok.

overall i just want to say please show him all the love there is at the coming shows (i believe toronto is next). i love this project and it's clear he does and i just want him to know how much we care, regardless of what's up (the details are none of our business of course)

sorry for bad formatting/wording, i've just had a couple experiences where something like this has happened at a show (different bands) and every time i just feel horrible and just want to help.

just give these shows to come so much love for me, and treat homie with kindness, is what the point of this post is <3

[degengxrl]

hamas wouldnt exist without israels oppression

hamas wouldnt exist without israels oppression

hamas wouldnt exist without israels oppression

hamas wouldnt exist without israels oppression

[sgt-farron]

[starry-bi-sky]

rewriting my childhood friends jason and danny post be like: “how do i better convey that jason is also as “ride or die” in this friendship with danny as danny is,,,” (while still being from danny's point of view)

“Oh i know!” *turns 85 degrees towards Danny* “:) im going to hurt you”

[filurig]

goatsss

[skittishlikefromthewar]

one of the things i love about the show is like.

in s1 he's supposed to save this terrible team from relegation, but oops it's a taller order than anticipated and oops maybe he's not quite okay himself

in s2 he slumps back through the door with his tail between his legs and has to admit yeah maybe he fucked some things because yeah maybe his father damaged him a little more than he wanted to say and okay okay, maybe he's actually got a lot of work to do

in s3 he's putting the work in. he's making changes in himself, he's facing his problems and he's doing so well with it that he.....has a complete emotional breakdown. because hey uh *nervous laughter* what do you do once you start letting go of your maladaptive coping mechanisms?? haha no seriously haha how do you be okay now??? and the man he loves has no idea how to help him and can only try to be present with him while he struggles and tries to figure it all out. and ultimately he has to fucking rally and he's gotta pick his whole self up and tell people thank you and tell people fuck you and make the daily choice to move forward with his life.

now am i talking about jamie or am i talking about ted?

[llamagoddessofficial]

Already posted this on ao3, but I thought Tumblr would like it too. A lovely commission courtesy of Valacre- cecaelia Skull getting to show his spookier and scarier side.

Some TWs, for this! Bleeding, near drowning, kidnapping and general yandere behaviour, vomiting, being pressured into eating. Proceed with caution if these things bother you!

You felt calm. Very calm.

You really shouldn’t have felt calm. You were probably actively dying. Sinking deeper and deeper into an ocean abyss, bleeding from a head wound you sustained from thrashing against coral in a panic, you couldn’t tell if the way the world was darkening around you was from your consciousness slipping away or your depth increasing. Perhaps a bit of both. 

... But... you just felt calm. The toxins had already well kicked into your brain. 

That was the thing, about sinking too deep in scuba gear. At depths, pressure changed the properties of whatever gas was in your tank. Unless you had a special concoction, suited for the extreme conditions, a tank of normal air would gradually become more and more toxic to your body the further down you went.

The regulator in your mouth, the very thing keeping you alive... was also the thing slowly killing you.

Nitrogen narcosis, right? You thought, nearly giggling. We learnt about it in dive class. What a dumb name, for something that’s gonna kill me.

The fact that you were sinking didn’t bother you. The fact that you were dying bought no panic. In fact, you could hardly remember why you panicked before. Again, you nearly laughed... you were so dumb, it was entirely your own fault you were in this position. Chasing a beautiful fish over the reef, further and further, not even noticing your dive group disappearing from sight. 

The nature had been so beautiful, the fish so pretty... the waters so calm.

You went over an edge, the coral shelving away. You hadn’t seen the bottomless, terrifying void until it had already opened up beneath you.

All struggling did was make you hit your head on a jagged coral branch. Nothing could stop the cold current from sucking you down.

You barely registered the plaintive beeping of the dive computer on your wrist. Quietly, uselessly, trying to warn you that you were getting too deep. 

... Eventually, your regulator slipped out of your mouth. 

Huh. Oh well.

...

Lights.

Lights filled your vision. Lights in a rainbow of colours, beautiful and vibrant, catching in the glass of your dive mask and casting across your face. The glimmering tucked around your fading mind, drawing it upward, drawing it away from the brink of nothingness. 

A warm red colour moved closer, and closer, and closer. Pretty. The other nice colours still surrounded you, but the red was the most dominant of them. It was a welcome break, from the endless black and blue that you were sinking into... you felt big hands, on either side of your face, a comforting sensation. 

Is this what dying is like? You stared at the warm red. It’s nothing like what people said it would be like.

You could hear a soft humming. You felt it in your core, too. The drunken, narcotic-esque sensation of the gases was slowly replaced by a much softer and more pleasant emotional state. Less giggly... more peaceful.

Something touched to your mouth. Warm. And suddenly, you could breathe again. A distant, disconnected sense of relief in the back of your head- like despite all of the easy feelings around you, deep down, you were still afraid to die.

... The red glow grew brighter. As it did, the peaceful feeling picked you up, and carried you away.

You were more than happy to let it.

///---///

Your eyes opened.

...

You didn’t expect that.

Immediately, panic rushed through you. It was so dark, so horribly dark - am I dead!? - you sat up, head rushing with a wave of nausea, your lips and fingers were heavy and tingly and your eyes felt as if they were swirling in your skull.

You instantly threw up seawater.

... A cave. You were in a cave. You let out a slow breath, it quivered slightly at the end, eyes darting around the chamber and desperately attempting to gather as much info as possible, hand coming up to wipe your mouth. The walls were black and glossy, seemingly volcanic, and the ground beneath you was dry.

... Wait. You forced yourself to slow down. How can I see?

You turned around. Just behind you, the dry rock shelved away into a large pool. And a faint, blueish-green light emanated from all around its edges, where the mirror-like black water met the stone. Algae? Plankton? Whatever it was, it was just enough light to see by, and it was undeniably beautiful.

... You shuffled over to the water’s edge. Kneeling by it, you leant over, and drew your hand through the still water- the cave grew brighter, as a trail of light followed your palm, flickering across your face and casting soft ripples over the sloped walls.

... The panic didn’t leave you completely. It probably wouldn’t, until you were curled up in your own bed at home. But... something about the bioluminescence helped your emotions settle. It was genuinely beautiful to look at, and the sound of moving water filled your ears, grounding you to the moment. You weren’t dead at the bottom of the seafloor, you weren’t being eaten by some terrible beast. Though you struggled to make sense of the cave’s dimensions in the low light, it certainly wasn’t small and you were grateful to be spared any nightmarish claustrophobia. Not to mention the fact that you were grateful you had light at all.

You took your hand out of the water. Watching the droplets fall, creating their own little flashes of light, made you suddenly realise something. 

... The cave wasn’t the only thing that was dry. You were bone dry, too. You touched your dry hand all over yourself, but felt no damp. How long have I been asleep?

For a moment, you suddenly worried that you shouldn’t be breathing stale cave air, and you reached up as if to cover your mouth. But... you also realised that you had no idea how long you’d been unconscious for. Clearly, long enough for you to dry. 

... Your wetsuit was gone. So was all of your scuba gear. You looked down at yourself, confused; dressed only in your swimsuit and rash vest, your tanks and hoses weren’t anywhere to be found. Even your dive computer was missing from your wrist. 

Looking up only confused you further. No longer frightened about stale air or whether or not you were dead, you noticed there were clothes laid against the rocks closest to the pool edge. Clothes you didn’t recognise- clothes that absolutely weren’t yours. A slightly damp towel, and a very damp shirt, placed neatly and flat... as if someone had taken their sopping wet items off after coming out of the water, and laid them out to dry. Given how warm (yet still somehow fresh) the cave air felt, you could definitely see things drying. 

Possibilities flashed through your mind. Did you do that, then pass out and forget? Or was there someone else here? You weren’t sure whether to be afraid of that possibility.

“... You’re not gonna get much done sitting on the floor.” You murmured to yourself, instinctively wanting to fill the silence. Regardless of your quietness your voice bounced off the cave walls. “Might as well have a look around.”

Eventually, you forced yourself to your feet. You were a little wobbly... but nonetheless, you were alive.

The cave was, to your surprise, empty aside from you. No other signs of life. No spiders, no worms, no bats or flies- just those smooth dark walls and the shine of the reflected pool light. It was a decently sized cave, more than enough room for you to stand to your full height and stretch your arms above your head. Gradually, you shuffled your way into the back; the roof edged down slightly, before rising up again. You supposed that counted as a second part of the cave.

The second chamber was still a good size, but it was much smaller than the first chamber. It felt a fraction cooler. The light from the pool had grown so dim that you had to use your hands to navigate, feeling the walls to make sure you didn’t fall over- very faintly, above you, you could make out a hole. Though no light was coming through, you felt fresh air on your face... you let yourself enjoy some relief at the knowledge that there was a source of breathable air. You weren’t going to suffocate.

... Though you felt around more, there was no third chamber, and no potential way out aside from the crack directly above you.

And... nobody else was in the cave.

The clothes by the pool must’ve been me. You thought, a strange sensation falling over you. Maybe I have a concussion...?

...

Wait. Your head.

You gasped aloud, remembering that you had hit your head on coral. You reached up to touch your head, expecting blood, expecting matted hair, expecting something, anything at all. 

... Your fingers touched dry seaweed.

You paused. The seaweed... it wrapped all the way around your head. Like someone had wrapped it for you. And you felt no pain when you touched the area that you had hit against the coral- in fact, when you moved the seaweed aside, your fingers felt nothing. No scab, no scar, nothing. It was like you had never been hurt.

...

Something wasn’t right about this. The strange sensation grew, uneasiness intensifying. You stumbled back into the first chamber, eyes on the floor to make sure you didn’t trip over anything in the half-darkness, you wanted to look at those damp clothes again to be sure you didn’t recognise them.

You looked up, over to the bioluminescent pool, mostly to see clear light again and partially to try and calm yourself with its gentle blue glow.

... A large, glowing red eye stared back at you.

...

You were frozen. Completely. More than just your physical body- it felt as if the air around you stopped, as if your blood in your veins turned to ice, as if your heart paused in its beating and your breath turned to stone in your throat.

...

The eye didn’t disappear. It wasn’t a stress hallucination, it wasn’t a mirage. As the leadden moments ticked on, the eye remained.

Silent.

... The eye... was in a skull. It twitched faintly. Only half of the head was above the water, the algae faintly shining where the sides of its face met the water. A vicious crack in the top of its cranium... just from the size of the top half of its face, you knew it was huge.

A siren. It must be a siren. A siren big and powerful enough to recover from such a frightening and severe injury as a head crack.

Trapped alone in a cave with a siren.

The realisation filled you with a numb, hollow kind of fear. It spread through every limb like a pale fire eating through paper.

Am I breathing? I don’t know if I’m breathing.

...

The siren, silently, lifted a few more inches out of the water. The only sound was the faint rippling of the pool. Droplets rolled down a smile of razor teeth.

...

You screamed. 

How could you not? Pinned in a small cave, with a beast right out of your nightmares. For a split second, a flash of confusion across its huge face. You tried to scramble away and back into the second chamber, somewhere you’d be out of its reach.

Its smile quickly returned. In an instant, massive black tentacles shot out of the water, sending up sprays of light; though you were aware of the siren’s size you had no idea of its dexterity. Before you could even turn around to run, tentacles seized your arms and legs; wet half-sentient masses of muscle wrapping tight around you. You felt the suckers press your skin, the slimy dark limbs squeezing and twisting, your bones suddenly felt so fragile and your screams so useless. Your voice just bounced off the smooth cave walls.

The tentacles pulled down, and instantly your legs gave way under you. He started dragging you toward him, toward the water- you watched in horror as his grin only grew, razor mouth and feverish red eye growing closer and closer. Death itself, pulling you in, images of those teeth driving into you made you begin to lose feeling in your extremities.

Like a child realising there was nowhere to run from the monster, you squeezed your eyes shut. You didn’t want to look, you didn’t want to see the teeth getting any closer, you didn’t want to see the eye fill your vision. You didn’t want to see it coming. 

The pulling stopped. You were numb, you’d drawn into your head, you didn’t know if you were even still screaming anymore.

Crack.

The sound of something breaking made any sound you might’ve been making catch in your throat.

...

... Except... you didn’t feel any pain. Seconds ticked by, and you didn’t feel the heat of blood, or the sensation of shock setting in. The tentacles hadn’t moved, still holding onto you tightly.

Whatever had crunched, it wasn’t your bones. 

... You were still hyperventilating. But confusion allowed you to, slowly, open up your eyes.

The horrible grin was inches from your face, leering down at you. As was the equally horrible eye, bathing you in an overpowering red glow.

... But also in front of you, was two sides of a cracked sea urchin.

...

You stared blankly. The siren... he was holding them. One half in either massive clawed hand. It was a decently sized urchin, full of golden edible uni. 

One hand was big enough to seize your face, crush your head.

...

The siren, upon getting no response from you, moved the split urchin a few inches closer. Like he was showing it to you. You tried to lean away, but he just responded by moving it slightly closer again.

... You glanced up at his face. It was a horrifying thing to behold. Jagged misshapen teeth, a half shattered skull... scars lining his body. That big iris, unblinkingly staring into your Soul. Not giving you an inch of space, as if he wanted to consume you just through eye contact.

...

Back down to the uni. Moments kept passing. Moments where he didn’t maul you to death.

...

... Wait.

No... 

You pulled in a little frightened breath. 

He didn’t like that, a flicker of something else crossing his expression. That same expression as earlier, when you screamed. Like he didn’t like it- like he was getting upset.

Memories were starting to return, now. Fuzzy recollections of lights filling your vision. Alive in a cave, with new clothes drying on the rocks, your injuries bound and healed... 

... This siren had saved your life. Hadn’t he? Dressed your head wound, removed your heavy gear. He rescued you, put you in what must be his cave.

... He was trying to feed you.

Oh no.

You didn’t have a choice, did you? You felt like if you didn't eat the food, he would eat you. Slowly, your hands came up, they were shaking almost comically... you reached forward, taking one of the sea urchin halves.

Judging from his reaction, it was the correct move. His unbearable smile inched wider. And across his tentacles, a dim pulsation of green and yellow light, for seemingly no reason other than happiness. 

You didn’t have anything to remove the edible parts with, so you had to use your fingers. Your hands were shaking so much that it took a few tries to actually get it out. But you managed, eventually.

... It was good uni. Incredibly fresh, salty, slightly sweet. But you had to force yourself to eat it. You felt intensely sick from the fear, your head was swimming and several times you had to suppress your gagging. Don't upset him. Just eat it. The food, though the sweetness did ease some of your dizziness, was impossible to enjoy in any way; the entire time you ate, the siren stared at you. He had an intensity only a wild beast could muster. Inches from you, so close you felt his massive breaths washing over your face... watching every. Single. Bite.

... It couldn't have taken long. But it felt like it took hours. Finally, you swallowed the last bit, and to your immense relief he didn’t try to make you eat the other half of the urchin. 

He seemed pleased- for now.

... His free hand lifted up. You flinched, closing your eyes again; you felt a large claw trace over your cheek. 

It only confirmed your fears. 

Sirens don't feed just anyone. They fed their children, their family, or their... 

... Their mate. 

The tentacle grip around you finally eased. Slowly but surely, pacified by your eating, he withdrew; though the wet limbs dragged across you as they retreated, like he was savouring every moment of contact. The red light of his eye became less and less dominant, the calming blue of the pool returning to your vision.

... He made a sound. It sounded like a deep growl. But given the grin on his massive face, and his obviously pleased disposition... it was probably closer in nature to a purr.

He slipped under the water’s surface, leaving only a glowing ripple behind.

...

... You forced yourself to slow your breathing. You forced yourself to stop thinking about the terrifying implication of what you’d just experienced, but nothing could stop a few tears slipping down your face, nor a few shuddering breaths escaping from your chest.

A siren... was keeping you. Probably as his mate. Not just any siren- a massive, terrifying cecaelia, who clearly had no intention of letting you go. That's why he left you with most of your things, but took all your scuba gear, wasn't it? So you couldn't dive out of this cave.

No... no, you couldn’t think about that. You swallowed the fear, only letting a few more frightened sobs free before scrubbing the tears off your cheeks.

This isn’t ideal. But... you’re alive, at least. You thought. You wouldn’t have survived if he didn’t intervene. So this is better than nothing, right?

Yeah. Yeah, right. You bit the inside of your cheek. You needed to be thankful you were, at least, alive.

You’re alive. Your wounds have all been tended to and healed. You’re safe, somewhere warm and dry, with a supply of fresh air. The giant siren might be freaky, but he bought you food, and even clothes.

He clearly wants to keep you alive. You’re gonna be okay.

“I’m gonna be okay.” You said, weakly... to nobody except the cave walls.

///---///

Skull watched, silently, as the boat moved further and further away. Only once it was out of sight did he allow himself to move through the water again, iris re-igniting. If it had come too close to the den entrance he would’ve attacked.

... He was closer to shore than he liked to be. But it was important he was close to fresh air, and places he could source human things from. For you.

His chest... it warmed so much, at the thought of you. His mate. He had been alone so long, desperate for so long. Now, he finally had company.

... Sure, you were afraid. But it was only natural for a potential partner to be resistant to first advances. It just meant he needed to keep you in the den, and prove he’d be a strong, capable mate. Right? One of his tentacles lashed out, catching a fish. The other divers with you, the members of your pack, were clearly idiots- they didn’t protect you. They didn’t even notice when you were in distress. They didn’t save you when you were hurt... not like he did. 

He felt himself warming even more, pride returning, tentacle immediately crushing the fish. He rescued you. He held you close in your weakest moment, and filtered air into his mouth for you. He stemmed your bleeding, he cradled you in his arms, saved you from the brink of death. He held you close for hours, blanketing you with healing magic until he was certain you were stable, nearly killing himself from the exhaustion of ensuring you would be safe. 

He was a good mate. Fish blood seeped out into the water around him. You would see, eventually, how good he was. All he had to do was keep you in one place, and prove it to you, no matter how much you fought him.

All he needed was time.