#the clouds are making it darker and lighter >:(

[altruistic-meme]

curse you clouds!! you are affecting my reading!! and i have anka by my feet!!!!!

[lexiputellas]

One Slice Away from the broken vows series

You're not sure what wakes you first.

Maybe it’s the faint click of the front door unlocking, a soft metallic sigh you’ve grown used to over the years. Or maybe it's the gentle thud of something being set down on the counter—a cake box, maybe, or the rustling weight of gift bags. Either way, the sound slices through the fog in your brain like sunlight slipping between blinds.

You blink slowly into the muted morning. The sky outside is washed in that cold, overcast blue that always makes everything feel quieter. Softer. You’re still under the covers, half-dressed, a pillow clutched to your chest like it could anchor you here.

But it doesn’t.

The door closes again downstairs. A second of stillness. Then: deliberate, familiar footsteps. A rustle of plastic. The faint rubbery squeak of balloons being shifted.

Dolores.

You sit up, body sluggish and sore in places that have nothing to do with sleep. There’s a stillness in your chest that feels like a bruise trying to settle. You press your palms to your face, drag them down slowly, then throw back the covers.

The hallway is chilly. The floor under your feet cooler than expected. You pad toward the bathroom, brushing your teeth without looking too hard at your reflection. You pull on the soft beige knit set —comfortable, polished enough, the kind of fabric that doesn’t ask questions. You tie your hair up loosely, smear a little concealer under your eyes, press a warm-toned cream blush into your cheeks until you look human again. Or close enough.

Downstairs, the house smells faintly of vanilla frosting and helium. A few party bags sit open on the dining table, the tissue paper sticking out in lavender waves. Dolores is in the kitchen, already moving in that precise, quiet way she has.

She turns when she hears you. Offers you a small, knowing smile.

“Morning,” she says softly, like she doesn’t want to disrupt the quiet that’s still holding everything together.

“Morning.” Your voice is rough. Sleep, maybe. Or just everything else.

“You got everything?” you ask, glancing at the kitchen island, where the cake box sits, half-unwrapped, beside two boxes of balloons and a wrapped present.

“Yeah. Balloons still need a few more breaths.” She looks at you, more directly now. “You okay?”

You nod, too quickly. “Fine.”

She doesn’t press. She just hands you a candle—the gold one Nora picked out two weeks ago, shaped like a star, still in its packaging. You unwrap it quietly and press it into the center of the cake, smoothing the frosting a little where it shifts.

The two of you work in rhythm, like you’ve always done. She folds the paper napkins. You count out the plates. You start stringing up a soft banner across the window that reads Happy Birthday Nora! in glittery script. The sun finally starts to push through the clouds, casting faint shadows across the floor.

Once everything’s in place, you glance toward the staircase.

“I’m gonna go get Iris.”

Dolores nods. “I’ll get the lighter.”

Upstairs, Iris’s room is filled with the soft wheeze of her humidifier. The air smells like lavender and something sweet—her shampoo, maybe. She’s curled in a loose ball, her hair a halo of messy curls on the pillow, one tiny hand resting open by her mouth.

You crouch beside the bed, brushing your fingers across her cheek.

“Hey, baby,” you whisper, voice low. “Time to wake up. It's Nora's birthday.”

She stirs, nose scrunching. “Mmh... cake?”

You smile despite yourself. “Yeah, baby. There’s cake.”

She opens her eyes—barely—and lets you lift her into your arms. Thumb pressing sleepily into your collarbone. Her breath is warm against your neck, and her cheek is soft and hot with sleep. You carry her downstairs slowly, swaying gently, careful with each step.

She doesn’t let go when you settle her into the high chair. You rub her back until she blinks fully awake.

“Stay there, okay? I’ll go get Nora.”

“Kay,” she mumbles, already reaching for a spoon.

Nora’s room is darker. The curtains still drawn, the air a little cooler. She’s a tangle of limbs on the bed—one leg off the side, the blanket wrapped around her shoulders like a cape.

You sit down beside her and smooth a hand down her back.

“Nora,” you whisper, your voice gentler than you expected. “Wake up, birthday girl.”

She groans, burrowing deeper into the pillow. “Too early.”

“I know,” you murmur, nudging her lightly. “But we’ve got a surprise. Come on.”

“What kind of surprise?”

“The good kind,” you say, smiling. “There might be cake involved.”

That earns you a grunt of interest. She cracks one eye open. “You have to carry me.”

You raise an eyebrow. “You’re nine now. You’re getting too big for that.”

She shrugs, unbothered. “Still your baby.”

You soften. “Always.”

She throws off the blanket and reaches for your hand. You walk down together, her fingers hooked around yours. When she turns the corner into the kitchen and sees the spread—balloons floating gently above the table, the cake waiting with its golden candle—she stops short.

Her face lights up. All sleep forgotten.

“Happy birthday, mi amor,” you whisper into her ear, hugging her from behind.

She smiles. Big. Honest. Her eyes shine, like maybe she still believes in magic. And for a second, so do you.

Then, her voice, smaller now: “Is Mama coming?”

You feel it then—how your heart twists at the quiet in her voice. The hesitance.

You nod slowly. “She’s coming later. She promised.”

Nora nods, eyes fixed on the candle. She swallows hard. Doesn’t say anything else.

You squeeze her shoulder. “Make a wish.”

Dolores has her phone out, filming quietly. Iris claps again, sugar-sticky fingers hitting the table. Nora leans forward. Closes her eyes. Breathes in.

The room stills.

She blows out the candle.

Soft applause fills the kitchen. Iris giggles. You kiss Nora’s cheek and grab a knife for the cake.

“You make a good wish?” you ask, keeping your tone light.

She glances at you. Hesitates.

“I wished Mama got to live here again,” she whispers.

You freeze. The knife still in your hand, hovering above the frosting.

Dolores lowers the phone.

Iris sticks another finger into the cake.

You bend down to meet Nora’s gaze, brush your hand over her back.

“I love you so much,” you whisper, smiling through it.

She nods, like she knows. Like she’s older than nine for a second.

You’re still kneeling beside Nora when the doorbell rings.

Dolores wipes her hands on a paper towel, already halfway to the door. “That must be her.”

You don’t move right away.

Your fingers are still brushing the edge of Nora’s pajamas, your mind snagged on that wish like thread caught on a nail. You feel it—a weight between your ribs. Heavy, quiet.

You smile at her again—gentle, steady—and cut a slice of cake for her and for Iris.

“Go ahead, baby. I’ll be right back.”

When you round the corner toward the door, you hear Dolores’ voice. Polite. A little surprised.

“Oh. You made it early.”

And then—

You see her.

Alba.

Black coat. Hair pulled back in a low, clean bun. A gift bag dangling from one hand, a small paper-wrapped box tucked under her arm. She steps inside like she’s not sure what version of this house she’s walking into.

“Hi,” she says. Simple. Cool.

You blink. “Hi.”

“I would’ve texted,” she says, lifting a shoulder, “but I figured—it’s a birthday, not a war zone.”

You let out a laugh. Quiet. Kind of real.

“You’re safe,” you murmur. “For now.”

Dolores slips away toward the kitchen—probably relieved to leave behind the weight in the air. You close the door behind Alba, smoothing your face. Trying not to let anything show.

She glances around the entryway. “So… how’d you manage to steal Dolores back from her golden retirement family?”

You snort, brushing your hands down your thighs. “Thinking I could do this alone was crazy. I don’t even know how I did it.”

“Yeah,” Alba murmurs, still looking at you. “I don’t either.”

It’s not sharp. Not cruel. Just honest.

That everything is messier than anyone wants to say out loud.

She follows you toward the kitchen, pausing just at the doorway. The smell of frosting and coffee and childhood laughter drifting through.

“She’s nine already?” she asks quietly.

“Nine,” you say, your eyes on Nora—cutting another slice of cake, her tongue poking out in concentration. Iris giggling beside her, stealing frosting with tiny, sticky fingers.

Alba exhales. “Wow.”

She steps into the room then, voice lighter, shifting something in the air as she bends a little and calls out, “Nora! Feliz cumpleaños!”

Nora lights up. “Tía Alba!”

Alba sets the gifts on the counter, lets Nora throw her arms around her. You hang back, just watching.

And for a second—

It almost feels like something close to normal.

But then Alba’s eyes flick to you. Quick. Searching. She doesn’t linger, but she doesn’t need to.

She knows.

She sees how long you’ve been trying to live in the pause between collapse and confession.

She lets Nora go, ruffles Iris’s curls with a soft murmur in Catalan, then moves to the coffee maker like she’s done it a hundred times. Like she never left. Like nothing broke.

You lean against the counter. Arms crossed—not defensive. Just tired.

She doesn’t speak right away. Just watches the girls—Nora leaning into Dolores, Iris laughing, the pink smear of frosting on her nose. All of it soft. All of it good.

“You look like you haven’t been sleeping.”

You don’t answer. Just pour your own coffee. It’s bitter. You drink it anyway.

“I know she cheated,” Alba says, voice low. “But I don’t know anything else. Not really.”

You stare down into the mug. Still. Silent.

“I don’t know how bad it got. I don’t know what she said to you. What you said to her. I don’t even know how long it had been cracking before it finally broke.”

You let out a breath. Not quite a sigh. Just a release.

“She never told me about the other stuff,” Alba adds, finally turning to look at you. “But I can tell… you’re just kind of here. Floating.”

You meet her gaze. Eyes still. Barely blinking.

“I’m not trying to pry,” she says. “But you can’t just sit in the middle of it forever. Letting it all hang in the air like you’re waiting for someone else to decide what happens next.”

Your throat tightens.

“You think I don’t know that?”

Alba shrugs. “I think you know. I just think you’re hoping if you stay quiet long enough, someone else will clean it up for you.”

You glance toward the girls again. Nora feeding Iris a spoonful of cake. Both of them giggling, sugar on their tongues.

“You don’t want to believe she’s not here,” Alba says. “So you don’t move. You don’t tell them anything solid. You’re not lying, but you’re not telling the truth either.”

You press your fingers into the edge of the counter. Something in your chest twisting.

“I’m not here to hurt you,” she says. “I just—someone has to say it. If it’s broken, you either fix it, or you let it go. But don’t float in this halfway place. Don’t make everyone guess what side of the shore you’re standing on.”

You swallow. Look down.

Say nothing.

“I love her,” she says. “She’s my sister. But I love you, too. And I love them.”

She nods toward the girls.

“And they need someone who isn’t just surviving.”

It lands. Right in your chest. Heavy and bright and painful.

“But I’m not going to push you,” she adds softly. “Just… when you’re ready to stop pretending it didn’t happen, I’m here.”

You blink hard. Nod once. Barely.

Alba straightens, exhales, and then says—

“Now. Where’s my cake?”

[tarantulasnot]

Francis mosses is just a milkman, a nobody. But you were a something he wanted, and what's the difference between wants and needs?

CW: weed usage, hair pulling, cum eating, elongated tongue, misuse of shape shifting, Francis is a shy little freak, sub Francis, marking, reader gets stoned and gets an idea,

It's gonna be... 𝓕𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓴𝔂 👅

You were so nice for a creature. Your smile, although a bit sharp was so mesmerizing. Your morning greetings were so pleasant, and genuinely made his day. He was so lonely, and you're small acts of kindness made him develop a small crush on you.

"Are you alright Francis? Your eyes have been getting darker." He'd shrug, however delighted that you'd noticed. "Mmm... Long shifts." You gave him a sympathetic look, and he looked the other way. "Come over tonight. I have something that might help."

So he came to you that night. He had changed out of his uniform into his button up pajamas, (1950s pajamas are Ebeneezer Scrooge couture okay 😭 lets act like that's sexy), and he approached your door, knocking on it.

Within a few seconds you had opened the wooden door, gazing at him with a smile. "Oh you're here already?" Another smile, it's like you're the original, but so much nicer. "Mmm, need all the help I can get." Your eyes scan him up and down and he shudders, but you shake your head, inviting him. "Take a seat on the couch, I'll be with you in a second." He does as told, but he's so stiff about it. Awkwardly sitting with perfect posture, his legs spread apart, and tapping his thigh anxiously. You return with a soft blanket and a two cups of hot cocoa, and two neatly rolled joints between your fingers. "Oh don't be so rigid, darling."

Fuck if only you knew the things you did to him. "Mmm, sorry about that." Francis apologizes, but you're quick to dismiss it. "I don't want to hear any of that." Settling down to his right, you pull out your lighter, and set the cups of warmed chocolate on the nightstand beside you. "Have you ever smoked weed, Francis?" The way you asked the question was so casual, that he looked almost taken back (this is the 1950s guys.)

"Mmm, well no." He glanced nervously at the joint in your hand as you set the end aflame, pulling on it once and holding the cocoa in your hand. You exhale the smoke and quickly take a swig. "I heard the coughing hurts."

You laugh, and it almost sounds like you're making fun of him. Once again, your teeth flash at him, and he swallows. Francis wonders how they would feel on his neck, his collarbone, his thighs... "Here," Lifting the other mug in your hand, you pass it to him. "If you exhale after a moment and drink this really fast you won't cough as much, if at all." He takes the drink, and sets it in his lap. However his attention is back in you and the way your lips curl around the blunt. You look so graceful about it.

"Here." You pass the joint to him between two fingers, and he copies you. "Now just take a small hit, this is your first time after all." The milkman nods, pressing his lips to it, and of course he doesn't listen. He barely feels it go down so after a solid 5 seconds you press your fingers to his lips and take the weed from him. "That's enough for you big fella."

Francis blows the white cloud from his lunge, and after a solid second of not feeling anything, he gets a scratchy burning feeling, and immediately sips on the cocoa. Afterwards he starts coughing, but it's not as bad as it would be without the drink. "H-Holy shit..." He manages in between coughs. "Damn that..." Francis leans back, his brain already starting to feel the effects. "That hits."

You chuckle lowly, taking another couple of puffs before passing it back to him. He goes through the cycle again before finally both of you are at a good high.

His eyes are dropped, eyelids lowered as he gazes at the wall. "Francis." You whisper, grabbing his attention, and suddenly he's locked in on you. Your hair, your lips, your eyes. God you're just a sight to behold.

"How are you feeling." He blinks at you, before smiling. "I feel great." He whispers. "Really good."

He moves a little closer, pulling the blanket further over himself. "Why haven't I done this before?" He leans his head back against the back of the couch, sighing. You can't help but appreciate the proximity. "Ummm..." He smells good, like deep cologne and the hint of flower in the air. "I don't know, but I'm glad you're feeling this good." Your hand goes to his thigh, landing on his knee and he shudders.

You had to be doing this in purpose. He felt his heart beating faster, and his body felt heavy. The way your fingertips glided over his knee to the center of his thigh, he wanted your hand just a bit further up. He wanted your hands everywhere. Really, he couldn't help it. His eyes fluttered shut as you kept running your hand over his thigh and he sighed heavily. "(Y/N)..." He whispered under his breath, and you took your hand away. You didn't want to push it, or do anything he didn't want.

You would have been an idiot to not notice that Francis had taken an interest in you. His flushed glances as you complimented him on his appearance, even if he was disheveled; or, when you touched his arm as a thank you for helping when you had "accidentally" knocked one of the bottles down.

"Are you alright, darling?" That nickname again, he parted his lips to speak. He wanted to be your darling, he had for a while. "I do like when you call me that." He admitted slowly, and his eyes sifted opened to peer at you. "Do you call anyone else darling?" He asked so innocently, but with a smidge of potential envy. "I don't." You reply simply, and you turn to face him fully. He returns the gesture, and now he's inches away from your face. "Mmm... So I'm your darling then?" He stated as though it were fact, speaking aloud.

Right in front of his eyes this time, your right hand drifts down to his thigh, and he twitches. "Mmm, don't do this to me." He wrenches his eyes from the scene back to you.

"What's the matter Francis?" It's his upper thigh this time that you graze, and it drives him to a point of no return. Already his pants are swelling with the thoughts he can't say, and if it weren't for the thickness of the blanket you would have seen it. However, you can feel the heat radiating from it. "Is there something wrong?"

Francis puts a hand over his eyes, he doesn't want to admit it, but he's already so painfully hard, a bead of precum staining his boxers and all you've done is pet his thigh. "Mmm... No- no." He shakes his head, and he nearly lurches out of his skin when all of a sudden your hand grazes over the spot that's affected the most. "Fuck- I just-" Francis mumbles, his hips chasing the contact, the stiffened member behind the clothing twitching beneath your ministrations. "Please-"

You don't deny him any further. You set your mugs to the side and crawl into his lap, and attach your lips to his. It's like a finely tuned instrument, both of you in sync, your hips moving over his slowly, and your kisses in the same agonizing rhythm.

He tries kissing you sweetly, this is the first time, but he can't control himself that well when it comes to this. "mmm- mm!" Your sharpened teeth bite his bottom lip, and he whines at the sting. But fuck he wants it, he wants those teeth to sinking into his neck, he wants the marks, he wants it all.

So you can't blame him when he grabs your hips and bucks into them, his eyes squeezed shut as he pushed his tongue into your mouth. Only to lose when your much longer one, which he hadn't noticed before, fills his. Your mixed saliva drops down his chin and he starts fully thrusting against you practically, his hands on your waist and your assisted pressure. "oh fuck- fuck-" he parts from the kiss to groan into your shoulder, and he sits down, begging into your ear while you did all the work. "Feels so good-"

Francis had been so lonely, so pent up. "Mmm more-" He pleaded, but you felt like being a little cruel to him. He could take it.

Your hand pulls his hair backwards and his hips jerk, a long moan escaping his throat. "You want more?" Your hips went faster and his eyebrows furrowed upwards, sweat at his hairline as you relentlessly dug your hips into him. "Huh, darling?"

The grip you had on his hair was just tight enough to ache and when you shook him around a little bit he couldn't stop himself from crying out. "yes!" He gasped, and suddenly he admitted what he wanted. "Please I want your fucking teeth in my neck- I want your tongue on my chest and-" he didn't even need to say it for you to know what he meant, because he keeps dragging his hips over yours when he has the mind to.

You quickly ripped his shirt open, and he shuddered when you let go of his hair. His tired eyes watched you get on your knees in front of him, his lip pulled between his teeth as you immediately peppered his neck with kisses.

I'm too lazy

@the-lazyyy-artist

[blushcoloreddreams]

Your guide to perfume layering

1. Simmilar + similar

To highlight a note of your preference combine two fragrances that have it present in their olfactory pyramid. This won’t change the scent much just amplify it your favorite aspects of it. Example: Bianco latte with vanilla 28, two vanilla fragrances (although the first one is a lighter fluffy vanilla and the other a darker boozy vanilla) or Bianco latte with Dama Bianca (my personal favorite combo) to create the perfect sweet and delicate vanilla . Or if you want something with rose + rose you can combine Delina with Delina exclusif of Delina with Roses vanille or even Delina with intense cafe since they all have that rose accord.

2. Complex + simple

I have two types of simple perfumes that work well for anything. The first being “simple” straightforward vanilla scents like Bianco latte to add a touch of sweetness to another type of fragrance like wood, ouds, and florals. This really helps with exploring other types of fragrances and slowly leaving your comfort zone. I talk about Bianco latte a lot since it’s one that I feel can wear everyday just rotating what I’ll combine with it. If you want other vanilla suggestions here’s a little list: Vanilla 28 (this one was actually created to be layered with other Kayali fragrances), commodity milk, vanilla skin, vanilla bourbon, Madagascar vanilla, Dulce, cloud, happy dust and tihota). Another type of scent that I use to layer with everything is a “second skin” scent like a simple clean musk scent like dedcool milk, white rice, glossier you, not a perfume, Rosie, l’eau papier, 11 11. This will add a background of cleanliness to whatever other scent you are wearing. If a fragrance has two notes you detect well like you can choose one aspect to enhance. Example cherry and oud like in “invite only” by Kayali I can mix it with love fest burning cherry to accentuate the cherry or amplify the oud by adding oud for greatness

4. Minimize what you don’t care for

For example, if you live in a hotter climate and you think it’s not appropriate to wear that sweet perfume you can add something citrus forward to give it a bit of tanginess and balance it out. I do this with one of my favorite combos La vie est belle l’eclat and CK IN 2 U

3. Layer well known acords

If you want to be really artsy and act like a perfumer you can layer perfumes that are common in accords

Examples

Fruity + floral

Floral + fresh

Saffron + leather

Rose + lychee

Green + citrus

Mossy + citrus

Tea + lactonic

Lactonic + coffee

Final tip: I find it easier to layer fragrances that are simpler or designer fragrances because they are blended together to be simple enough where you can understand them where niche fragrances can sometimes have so much going on that is hard to classify on a simple category and it’s easy to make them clash with something making them harder to layer.

[plaguewormart]

Tw self harm

Vincent growing more and more anxious as the weeks pass. In the beginning of his pontificate, the stress of becoming pope Innocent XIV clouds his mind enough that he somehow manages to get through the days, but as the days start becoming normal and as Vincent starts settling into a routine, he starts thinking.

Thinking of those he left behind, mumbling their names in his prayers as he wonders if they’re still alive. He thinks of the children who treated him like a grandfather, and of how he will never see them grow up. He thinks of the parishioners who would welcome him into their homes and pray with him even on the darkest days.

Some nights, Vincent lays awake - often on the cold floor instead of the large bed - and he tries to recall the faces of his flock, and he cries as he realizes the memories are fading.

When he does sleep, Vincent often awakes in a cold sweat, his heart racing. Sometimes he can remember the dreams, other times they are nothing but a heavy darkness filling his soul.

Sometimes Vincent finds himself tracing the scars on his body. There are many, some remnants of a childhood spent playing outside, while others come from far darker memories.

He was young when he first learned how pain can be used to stay focused.

He misses the pain sometimes.

On particularly bad days red marks will join the scars on Vincent’s hands and arms. He makes sure no one notices. In meetings where the fates of human beings are discussed as if they were nothing but numbers, Vincent will keep his expression as neutral as ever as his right hand makes its way into the left sleeve of his cassock. He doesn’t flinch as fingernails dig into the skin on his forearms.

A few times - on days where he wakes with a scream in his throat and reads letters from all around the world, letters begging for help that he will never be able to give - he has to clean drops of blood from the inside of his cassock’s sleeves.

Vincent regularly prays for forgiveness, yet he keeps thanking God for the modesty of the vestments he wears. His arms are a mess of bruising and scratch marks more often than not, and he has taken to wearing undershirts to minimize the risk of anyone seeing the results of his sinful habit.

He convinces himself that it isn’t as big of a sin as other types of harming oneself. He knows of those who take blades to their skin or who burn themself with matches and lighters. Vincent isn’t actually hurting himself, he thinks, he is simply coping.

-

Thomas is the one to find out about it. Of course he is. He notices how the Pope keeps tucking his hands into his sleeves, and dismisses it as a nervous habit - until he looks closer and sees the blood that coats the Holy Father’s fingernails.

Thomas begs the Holy Father to stop. “You are the vicar of Christ on Earth!” He cries. “You cannot believe that this is the best way to handle your stress?” Thomas understands the Pope all too well, but in his eyes Innocent could never deserve the pain that Thomas inflicts on himself.

Thomas cannot stop himself from crying as he confronts the Holy Father. Tears are running down his cheeks as he asks Innocent to quit the habit. He cries into the Pope’s shoulder as Innocent envelopes him in a warm hug.

-

Vincent makes sure that Thomas doesn’t notice the way he slides a hand into his sleeve behind Thomas’ back as they embrace.

[yearningaces]

OOOOOH OH I HAVE AN IDEA OH MY GOD HANG ON

TIME TO GO BACK TO KY ROOTS AS A LOVER OF THE INCOMPREHENSIBLE SUCH AS ELDRIDGE HORRORS

tw: briefly mentioned death, end of the world stuff, a touch of unreality?

2,080 words

•

You were born with an odd birthmark. In the center of your chest, a strange marking of a few speckled points that form a shape, the skin lighter in between them, almost as if scarred. It's always been there, as common as a freckle, or a mole, or a blemish. It's a part of you.

Until it's something else.

Because you found an old bookstore owned by a sweet old couple with a heavy history. The isles seem endless, the books soon become tomes. And deep in those endless shelves, you find a dark book. The leather stained black with a purple sheen, stars painted along its spine. And the cover has a very familiar marking. One you see every time you look down, every time you glance in a mirror.

When you bring the book to the front, the couple seem equally confused. The older woman laughs when you say why it's so odd. Claiming it's yours since it apparently has 'your mark' on it. Her tone is light, playful even. Amused enough to let you take the book home.

So, you do. You bring it to bed as you settle in for the evening. And with baited breath you open it to the first page.

•ҠҴұѬғҾұҭӀѬҐұӂһӁҾұҾѬ•

…

What?

What is that?

The rest of the book is the same.

You set it aside, deciding if nothing else it's a pretty decoration. And you roll over to settle into sleep.

Although your dreams aren't what they usually are. Instead, you're adrift in an endless darkness, lit up by distant stars and gaseous clouds, stardust, and planets. It's breathtakingly beautiful if you had lungs.

Your consciousness drifts, bodyless, a light, the littlest star falling through the endlessness of existence.

And you fall closer and closer to a certain light of morpheus colors, it looks like pillars. Orange and red and white space dust, asteroids, matter forming three massive columns forming a triangle. One of them looks darker than the others, the colors fading, scattering. In the center? A light. So warm and inviting it is that you fall closer and closer to it. But in the center of this great light, is a hole. Tiny, microscopic, but very much keeping this form from being complete.

And as if it senses you, it morphs. It shifts within the pillars. Galaxy long appendages begin to reach out, swirling masses of matter changing colors with each wave of motion.

But the stars surrounding the 'pillars' brighten. The appendage returns within. It's not a random formation, it's something to contain. Keeping whatever is within the bright swirling mass of colors you could never hope to name, locked inside.

You drift through the vastness, closer. A soothing rumble of vibration somehow moves through you. An attempt to speak?

And suddenly, within your consciousness is another.

'Ah… you have returned to me…'

'Little Star… They hid you well.'

'Not well enough.'

The colors and lights begin to fade. The endless voice creeping in. The form within the prison of stars reaches out in a sorrowful seeming attempt. Noises you couldn't begin to phrase tearing from it as your consciousness is drawn away, back to where it's supposed to be.

Wide awake in bed. The next day. The dream isn't really remembered, little more than fragments that leaves you with a strange happiness in your chest.

You go about your day, unaware of the shift in the universe. Something no longer dormant, no longer willing to exist in the endlessness, confined within its prison.

Not when it knows you exist.

The next time you glance at the odd book, you have to do a double take. Because it's no longer unreadable.

•ҠҴұ Great ҰұӂһӁҾұҾ•

You flip through the book near frantically. Some words are understandable. 'betrayed', 'end', 'must', 'others', 'imprisoned'. Beyond them, it's just as much of a jumble as everything else was.

Astronomers everywhere make note of an oddity that night in their usual studies of the skies above.

That same night the dreams return, more vivid, more clear. Once more you're nothing but a little light adrift and falling gentle through it all. Closer to the pillars you saw once before. Only… another one looks faded and flickering.

The swirling mass of colors and forms writhes within.

'Were I a benevolent thing, I might be appeased with moments.'

'I am not.'

'Come closer, little star. Fear nothing of myself.'

It's not your consious choice to do so, but you do glide through the emptiness, slowly growing closer to something that seems endless and yet knows exactly where you are. You could almost imagine planet sized eyes surrounding you, following you. Soaking in every drop of light that you are in this moment. The form moves, it's figure amorphous and near endless as it lowers. Down, down, down until you look upon what might be a head? Nearly the size of the Milky Way in your mind.

'There you are,' the voice in your head croons sweetly, the sheer force of it rattling your very mind.

'So close, and yet… not complete.'

The head tilts, blending into the rest of its form. Once more shapeless.

'You are out there. Somewhere.'

'I will find you.'

Your bright starry self drifts inadvertently between the pillars. Close enough that a portion of the looming mass breaks away from itself. Reaching for you, calling to you. The closer it gets, the warmer your very consiousness begins to feel, an achingly sweet searing heat.

'Nothing could pray to stop me.'

And you wake up.

Somehow well rested, ready to tackle the day… but strangely wanting to go back to sleep. Back to the warmth that slowly fades as you wake.

•The Great ҰұӂһӁҾұҾ•

The tomb more legible but no less confusing. 'consume', 'all', 'taken', 'hidden away', 'prevent', 'remove'.

That day, a mass of reports come in, something happening far beyond where humans travel. But the rippling affects are already being felt.

Something is restless, and the stars are going out. One by one.

What can you do when night falls but return to bed? As if you hadn't been waiting all day, wanting that comfort, the restfulness you've never had until recently. And you find it once more.

Only this time you're within the pillars, the last one dim and fading. Your consiousness brighter than before, adrift freely wherever you wish to be within the center. The endless form of swirling light and colors circles around you. The strength of its attention heavy as a weighted blanket on a cold night.

'I have found you.'

The ominously soothing voice whispers in your thoughts.

'My little star, my missing peace.'

You can feel the sudden ache of being incomplete for a moment, yet it feels like a millennium. This is what it has felt for so long it's forgotten what being complete could possibly be.

The world around you swirls, the imprisoned encompassing you within lifetimes of space. Appendages as massive as planets growing smaller as they approach, for your comfort only. Most hovering closely, the few bravest brushing so very carefully against your light as if a spring flower growing graciously towards the sun.

'You will no longer be alone.'

'I will be there soon.'

'Fear for nothing, want for nothing, for I will bring everything and more you could ever wish for.'

You feel yourself fading once more, waking.

'Soon, sweet star.'

'Soon.'

The next morning it's made public. The expanses of space are somehow vanishing. The nothingness creeping across the stars. Faster each moment. Count them down. Breathe your last.

And yet when you wake, it's the softest sleep you've ever known.

•The Great Devourer•

You can read the tomb.

It tells of a creature known as The Great Devourer. The end of all. One of many creatures. The Endless Expanse being the Creature who broadens the universe, creating more and more as it moves. The Living Breath, the creature who brings the aspects of life to the most unexpected of places, The interlinking Bonds, the creature who binds the rules of existence together, establishing what can happen due to what. And the eldest of all, The Great Devourer.

While the other beings can be seen as creators, life gives, The Great Devourer will be the one to snuff out the candle of everything. Consuming all of existence until there is nothing left and it feasts upon itself, leaving a once endlessly existence void of all.

Fearing the fourth creature, the three bound together, creating a prison at the farthest reaches of the universe.

Bound by stars and void, confined within something greater than itself. Weakened when it's very heart was removed. Unable to escape.

The Great Devourer's heart was contained among the three for a very long time, before it fell from their grasp. Adrift through space and time until it fell to earth. Remade into something new. Something like you.

'It is time to return, little star.' the sweetest croon whispers in your head as you place the tomb down. Listlessly walking back to your bed. The room is dark, the air is cold, your bed is the most inviting thing you've ever known.

'Sleep,' it urges softly, the subtle jolt of electricity moving through your very nerves, your limbs suddenly so very relaxed, your eye lids closing.

Your consiousness leaves you for the last time, drawn to the endless skies above, drawn to where you belong. Only… the pillars are gone. The stars surrounding it are gone. And the skies surrounding you shift. Darkening into nothing as you suddenly change, moving halfway across the universe. Surrounded once more by it, The Great Devourer. It shifts, slowly encircling. You feel warm, heavy, tired. Wanting nothing more than to be closer, where you belong, where you've always belonged.

'I am here, my little star,'

'I will hold you close,'

'I will bring you home.'

You can see the few stars beyond its form fading, no… vanishing. All at once in giant sections, as if consumed. Suddenly gone. Leaving nothing but darkness with no end or lapse in its wake.

Your thoughts for a brief moment feel a flicker of human panic. This shouldn't be happening, what about you? Where are you? Where is your body?

You feel yourself wake, your consiousness attempting to return to the very human call of your mind, back to earth, back to your body. Like every time before. And you start to open your eyes, the sky outside dark, cold, freezing, you hear screaming, breathing is near inexistent, your lungs burn, your body paralyzed-

'No.'

The sudden booming demand rattles the very reality of existence, and all at once you snap back to where you are within this things embrace. In so deep a sleep you'll feel nothing.

The Great Devourer finally reaches out. An endless amount of appendages reaching, grasping, embracing as it draws you towards its center. The hole that never could be filled.

You are warm, and you are safe, and you are loved.

'No, little star.'

'You belong here,'

'you do not deserve to be there,'

'You must be here, where you are home.'

There's a brief moment, a flashing knowledge that your body is gone. It no longer exists. And with that, your consiousness solidifies where it is. Brighter, more vibrant, swirling and glowing in a far tinier fluidity than the endless expanse above you.

The sheer force of emotions that roll through you all come from The Great Devourer as it draws you closer, and closer. Adoration, reverence, a heavy warmth and gentleness, and so much more that defies all known words. But it is filling, and as you are drawn into The Great Devourer's embrace, you are both at once complete.

You are lost within what was your beginning and has become your end, never to so much as remember the fleeting mortal existence you once held.

To forever feel nothing but the purest of endless love, feeling as if laid within the softest of comforts, the gentlest of sleep, and every few millennium between your restful, endless drifting, you might rouse enough to hear the murmurs of The Great Devourer.

It's voice coming from within and surrounding you, whispers of comfort, of anything, of everything.

The Great Devourer is once more freed. Whole, and complete. To roam the universe, to consume its fellow creatures craft. To one day consume all, even itself.

Until The End

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Burst Your Bubble

Sequel to this, this, this, and this

what would logan do if he found out bub had an admirer? 

Logan’s in purgatory. He deserves it. He was wrong and he must’ve been really wrong if even he can admit it. He was wrong about Bubbly. He made assumptions that he didn’t even realise. He did the same thing everyone else does to her. Underestimated her. 

He hasn’t spoke to her since the argument. He’s seen her but not for long. She disappears in a cloud of bubbles before he can approach. 

He deserves that. He should’ve known from the start that it was too good to be true. Someone like her deserves someone better than him. Just like Jean. 

He chews on his cigar. He hasn’t lit it. The acrid taste stains his tongue. He tried not to smoke as much since the first time he kissed her. She said he tasted like tobacco so he tried to change that. He’s been gnawing on the stogie all day, flicking his lighter on and off. If he lights it, that means it’s really over. 

He growls and puts the lighter in his pocket. He moves the cigar behind his ear and pushes his shoulders wide. He sits outside in the grass. He hoped he find her picking flowers or just wandering. 

Maybe he should get up and do some wandering of his own. As he walks by a cluster of women doing that weird stretching on mats, he sees a familiar head of white hair. Orora nears him as he steels himself. She always sees right through him. 

“O,” he greets her grimly. 

“Logan,” she says tritely. “Have you seen the bubbly one?” 

He frowns, “why’re you asking me?” 

She laughs and gives him a look. Has he been that obvious? No, she’s just nosy. She’s always been. 

“Trouble in paradise?” She prompts. 

“We ain’t...” he begins then growls. “Orora...” 

“It’s fine,” she waves him off. “Figured I’d ask. I’ve been looking for her. I thought she was some dish soap bubbles but it was just Beast cleaning his beakers.” 

He almost laughs. The idea of her following a trail of bubbles is comical. Then it just reminds him how he undermined Bubbly. She doesn’t deserve that, especially from him. 

“East den?” He suggests. That’s where he would check next even though she hasn’t been there in over a week. Ten days to be exact. Ten days and four excruciating hours. 

“Alright,” she tilts her head, her hands on her hips. “I’ll find her. If not, I’m sure Charles can help with that.” 

He grunts and nods. She struts off and he sighs. A couple walk past, arm in arm, as if taunting his loneliness. He’s lost again. He only realises then how she grounded him. How for once in his life he felt like he belonged where he was. 

He goes inside. The sunlight is pissing him off. What’s there to be so bright about? His world is darker by the minute. He takes the cigar from behind his ear and twirls it in his fingers. 

He’s caught by a noise. That twinkling flutter that makes his chest rent. He slows and keeps his steps light. He nears the door as it comes again. There’s clapping and a waft of bubbles floats by him. 

Logan peeks around the frame. Kurt sings in German as he juggles candlesticks plucked from around the room. The disposed tapers are in Bubbly’s lap as she applauds him and bounces to his melody. He uses his tail to add to the show, tossing between his hands too. 

Kurt stills then dissolves into a cloud of black. In an instant, the tapers disappear from her lap and the candlesticks are neatly returned to their places with the wax in place. He pops back into clarity right beside Bubbly as she squeals. 

Huh, when did he get back in town? 

Logan wets the end of the cigar between his lips as he watches. 

“That’s so cool!” Bubbly chimes. “Thank you!” 

“For the bubble seeress, I would make all bad things--” he snaps his hands, “poof! Your smile is worth it, fraulein.” 

She giggles again and bubbles swirl up in a rush of pink and purple. The smell of cotton candy tugs at Logan’s stomach. He’s hungry, but more painful is his jealousy. 

“Those bubbles. So beautiful,” Kurt praises. “I’ve never met one such as you, with the...” he makes a noise reminiscent of the bubbles clustering. 

Logan snarls without thinking. Bubbly looks past Kurt before he can hide. She frowns. He’s never seen her look so upset. In an instant, her joy is gone. 

“Ah, Logan,” Kurt stands to greet him, entirely oblivious. “I have returned!” 

Logan doesn’t say a word. She bursts into one large bubble and rolls through the air. She floats through the open window and Kurt peers around in confusion. 

“She is gone!” He searches the empty room. “She is like that American film, where the pink princess floats down in the big bubble, yes?” 

Logan shakes his head at the outdated reference. Even he saw that one. He sniffs. 

“A very shy fraulein,” Kurt remarks. “But wonderfully delightful, isn’t she?” 

“Mm, what about Orora?” Logan grits. 

“We have parted... amicably. She stopped sending lightning down upon me at last,” he smirks crookedly. 

“Hm, well, maybe you need the break,” Logan shrugs and bites down on the cigar. He grumbles and continues down the hall.  

He needs to do something. He needs to show her how sorry he is. To show her that he knows how amazing she is. 

[respectthepetty]

Nine is *that* intern

Nine did not just intern with Jane and date him. He was *the* intern who didn't have a background in the field yet got the big job!

But I don't think that it was *just* that Nine got the job without the background. I think Nine got the job based on Jane's idea!

And the colors tell me this!

Brown Boy Tae in his brown shirt is still filling up a pink water bottle because he misses his Pink Person Mee.

Pink Person Mee is wearing pink and black because she is falling for Black Brooder Judy.

Red Rascal Pie is wearing red because she is a badass who has always known herself.

But Yellow/Orange Oddity Pah is only painting with his color this week because he struggled with self-confidence and self-image thinking he wasn't talented enough.

And, of course, Green Guy Ryan wore pink "self care" heart socks,

and a little heart on his purple sweater over his heart because he is in love with Jane.

So what does this have to do with Blue Boy Jane?!

I wrote a couple of weeks ago that my handy dandy 7" Chromebook's screen resolution was soooo dark that it was hard to tell if Jane was black or blue.

BUT IT WASN'T THE SCREEN RESOLUTION!

Like all the other characters, colors evolve based on interactions and feelings with and for other characters. Tae is carrying a pink bottle, Mee is wearing black, Ryan is in his heart era, and Jane's blue has evolved throughout the show to be lighter, yet the show confirmed that Jane was dark blue . . . which is because of this Black Brooder!

It has to be difficult to be a light Blue Boy in love with an intern when Jane has this dark cloud of his previous idea-stealing boyfriend who got the credit and the job for his idea lingering behind his back, no?

So not only was I finally told what Jo's job is (THE PRESIDENT!),

But now I think I pieced together why Blue Boy Jane is so damn dark all the time!

A Black Brooder not only took credit for their shared idea and got the big directing job, but also broke Jane's heart because they were dating and Jane helped his boyfriend, who had no background in the field, since he loved him!

I don't know why I'm smiling. Well, I know why I'm smiling because a good color narrative makes me happy, but that's a sad story IF it's true which it could not be true and I just made up an entire thing that is actually not the story and that specific previous intern experience could have nothing to do with Nine and Jane's relationship and Nine only dated Jane and nothing more.

But Jane does seem a lot lighter around Ryan.

Well, anywho! Ryan is wearing pink (for love) and Jane's (light) blue next week

While Tae is going through his Sad Boy Era in black because his heart is broken and he is miserable and when people are sad and heartbroken their colors turn darker and . . .

I THINK I'M RIGHT ABOUT NINE AND JANE!

[soprawrites]

☾⋆⁺₊✧ The Night's Song ☾⋆⁺₊✧

Joshua Rosfield x reader

CW: mostly fluff, brief mentions of illness (and blood), pining, some spoilers leading up to the end of the game, fem!reader

WC: 1,610

Notes: This has been sitting in my drafts since I first finished the game back in 2023 and I think it's finally time to upload it! The nursery rhyme mentioned is based on this IRL one (Sorry, I couldn't find any with English subtitles, let me know if you want a translation!). I decided to use this one since Dhalmekia is primarily inspired by MENA cultures so I figured it would fit.

Also, shout out to @my-my-my for giving me the motivation to finish this! This one's for you queen! 💖

Read on Ao3 here!

The hour was getting late, the already clouded skies growing even darker as what little light was left peeking through them waned. Although the past few days in the hideaway held a tension so thick you could cut it with a knife, tonight’s strained atmosphere was a tad lighter than usual.

There were those who enjoyed a quick drink over at Maeve’sin the ale hall, hanging about and conversing, while others retired for the night to catch up on some much-needed sleep. Shirleigh was rounding up the children to get them ready for bed as well. A few Cursebreakers lingered as they were giving their last reports of the day to Otto.

It was just a rare quiet and peaceful night. One that hadn’t been had for quite a while, considering everything that had happened in thepast few weeks. And with the coming battle at hand against Ultima, one could say it was a much-needed night to help ease everyone's concerns; yours included.

You had just finished giving your report to Otto, and finding yourself feeling anxious and not ready for sleep or in the mood for ale, you wander to a more secluded part of the hideaway that overlooks the blighted waters of Bennemure Lake.

Sitting on the ledge, your legs dangle off the side as you get as comfortable as you can on the wooden deck. If Shirliegh hadn’t already put the kids to sleep they would have been right by your side wanting to copy you, which would have ended in a long battle of trying to get them to stop and an earful from the aforementioned teacher at how dangerous it would be for them to do that.

You look off into the night sky as you lean back. With the clouds constantly hanging from Primogenesis, it was a lot harder to see the moon and stars. Oh, how you longed for the sight. The nights back in Dhalmekia, the land you used to call home,were always bright. The twinkling stars had always been a beacon, guiding you towards your destination. It was rare, but on occasion the sky would cloud over, making the already crisp desert nights even colder. Ever since leaving your home, you hadn’t appreciated the night sky as you once used to, only now and again. It was especially so as you got busy doing work with the Cursebreakers. 

A gentle breeze draws you further into your reminiscing as it rustles past you. With the cool wind blowing against your face, you close your eyes to bask in the serene moment. It was quite odd, having this still moment in time. If you thought about it, it felt like the calm before a dark and foreboding storm. Deciding it better to not concentrate on the source of your restless energy, you set your focus back to other things.

As you sit with your thoughts to yourself, you recall a time from when you were young, when it was a night just like this and sleep had evaded you. Your mother hadnestled you, and with your head in her lap, she sang you a lullaby. It was one you had always looked forward for her to sing to you, finding excitement in the playful tune.With the gentle melody of your mother's voice and her hand combing through your hair, you had always fallen asleep easily.

You start humming the melody of the lullaby, hoping to ease your anxiety. You jump slightly, eyes snapping open as you hear the wood creek to the right of you indicating the presenceof another.

“Oh, forgive me, my lady. I hope that I am not interrupting,” a soft-spoken voice drifts over to you.

Your heart flutters at the sound of his gentle timbre, a voice that you would always recognize, and as you glance at the man who had spoken to you, you see a small smile has graced his boyish features.

“Not at all,” you shake your head with a smile of your own tugging on your lips.

“Is it alright if I sit with you for but a moment?” Joshua asks quietly. With a slight nod of your head, you inch a little to the side, allowing him space to sit next to you.

“May I ask what song it was that you were humming just now?” Ever curious he was, wasn’t he?

“Ah, well, it’s an old Dhalmekian children’s song that my mother used to sing to me on nights I was being too fussy,” you reply with a reminiscent smile. “It’s about a bird learning not to mess around with a coeurl or else he’ll get scratched,” you continue, voice full of mirth as you reflect on the lyrics of the lullaby. “It’s mainly sung by parents to teach their children to listen to them.”

An amused smile takes over Joshua's face as he remarks, “I see. I can certainly see how it would,” he pauses for a second mulling over his words, “persuade children to behave.”

A light laugh ripplesthrough your chest as you consider his remark. Persuade was surely a nice way to put it. In your mind, it was quite a crafty way of getting children to listen. Though, as an adult now, you can see how on the nose the song is. But as a child, it was just a fun bedtime story to you. Before you get lost in your childhood thoughts once more, he carrieson.

“I recall there being a somewhat similar nursery rhyme in Rosaria that the nursemaids would often sing.” He pauses to recall the rhyme from his youth. He considers humming it for a moment before deciding against it. “Though, I believe that you would sing it far better than I ever could.” He chuckles lightly, a teasing smile quirking his soft lips. He couldn’t remember the last time he had sung the rhyme, let alone sung a song at all.

Face flushing with warmth, you try to ignore the way your stomach fills with butterflies, a modest smile forming on your features. “Hmm, I’m not so sure about that. I am anything but a singer.”

“My lady, I do not jest. Your voice is quite mesmerizing, like a siren’s. It drew me in the second I heard its gentle call.”

You hesitate, not entirely sure on how to respond. The way he had put it makes your heart want to interpret his words in a way that you new you shouldn't and yet the heat you feel on your face stays steady. You have to remind yourself that, as the son of an Archduke, speaking like that probably came naturally to him.

“Is that so?”

“Quite.”

His voice is but a whisper. Your heart is pounding in your chest as you stare into his crystal blue eyes. His strawberry blonde locks sway as the airy night breeze flutters between you. You can smell the herbal and clean fragrance that always follows after him as the wind carries it to you. It's a pleasant scent that makes you want to draw closer to him. You realize that you can feel his radiating warmth as his head dips low, his eyes never straying from yours. When had he gotten so close to you? 

He opens his mouth, about to murmur something more when a sudden bout of coughing wrackshis form. Concerned, you reach for him, placing a hand on his back in an effort to soothe him as he leans away from you.

“Are you alright, Joshua?” His name still feels foreign on your lips, the urge to call him ‘Your Grace’ still there, but he had insisted that you call him by his given name not long after you had first met. “Should I go bring Jote?”

He raises a hand, dismissing your concern as a few more coughs shake his frame and when he pulls away the hand that had been covering his mouth you notice a few droplets of dark red blood. You’re even more concerned by the sight, constantly aware that his illness could worsen at any second.

“I’m quite alright, my lady. There’s no need to worry.” You’re not entirely convinced and when he sees how your eyebrows are drawntogether from worry, he tries to reassure you once more. 

“Truly, my lady. Though, I fear this is my sign to retire for the night.” He sighs tristfully, a shaky waver hidden in the sound. “How lamentable. I had been enjoying our time with one another.”

“And I as well. However, it’s alright. Your health is what is most important.” You give him the most reassuring smile you could muster. Feeling somewhat bold you continue, “And, you are always more than welcome to join me next. That is if you would like to.”

“I would love for nothing more.”

He stares at you for a moment longer before rising from his seated position and you follow, standing in front of him. Before Joshua turns to leave he gives you a gentlemanly bow. “Well then, my lady. I thank you for allowing me the honor of your presence.” 

He holds his palm out to you and when you place your hand in his, he presses a soft kiss to the back of your hand in parting. The warmth from his touch comforts you, your heart swelling with tender affection, and yet aching all the same.

“I will see you on the morrow.” 

And with that he’s off, leaving you to wistfully gaze at his retreating form. A longing for something you know you will never have sinking ever deeper into your gut.

[adobe-outdesign]

eventide colour review? I feel like it could have been so good but just misses the mark

Eventide is a color I've always liked more than most people seem to. I don't think it's great by any means—see below notes—but I like the aesthetics of it a lot. I feel like it works well as kind of an "updated" starry colour while also being unique due to the sunset theme.

However, with that said, I think it has three major issues:

Straight gradients: If you look at the Koi above, you'll notice the gradients on its fins line up vertically. This means that if it ever moved its fins, they would be mis-matched. This is lazy use of gradients and makes a lot of pets look worse than they should.

No contouring: Another issue is that the gradients don't actually bend with the form of the body—a straight line applied to a sphere should be curved. Because the gradient doesn't do this, it looks very flat.

Too many colors: Look at the below stock image for a second. There's really only three colors: orange, a dusky yellow-orange, and a dark blue. However, with eventide pets there's five—dark blue, cyan, red, orange, and yellow. This makes the pets look busy and makes for a less coherent color palette.

There are, of course, exceptions to all three of the above—but it's rare, especially because eventide is a pretty consistent colour, for better or for worse.

Eventide was released after conversion, so there's no old art or styles to discuss.

Favorite Species:

Usul: You know how I just said eventide pets have too many colors? The eventide Usul is a good example of this, as it only uses three (cyan, dark blue, and red). This makes it a lot more coherent than most eventide pets, especially with the stars being such a prominent part of the design. The straight gradients are also gone, with the arms both being red, the bow being red, the tail and mane being starry, and the ears becoming starry only at the tips. I just wish they all had this much effort put into them.

Hissi: The eventide Hissi isn't too fancy, but once again, the lack of straight-across gradients really helps it. The extra shininess is nice, and the spots are handled well, being either a lighter or darker shade of similar colors in the palette. I also like that the underbelly gradient is sightly offset from the rest of the body.

Kougra: The Kougra's super simple, but I think it works well. The colored linework looks good, the markings are easy to see and read, and the gradient application is relatively unfunny and, again, not straight-across. Also, the lack of clouds here kind of works for me.

Least Favorite Species:

Meerca: No colored lineart combined with one of the flattest gradients out there—not only does it not contour with the body, it doesn't even fit the perspective on the tail! The head also gets completely lost because it seemingly has no shading there. Also also, the gradient is too short, making the transitions between colors all the more jarring.

[kosmickal]

I’m not done fleshing him out, but I’ll give a few info about him.

• Name: Nephele Sans

• Birthday: June 15th

• Height: 5’2

• Age: In his 30s

• He’s an outcode

• His au is called Stratustale (I’m still working on that)

• Nephele wears a hoodless jacket, so the clouds around his neck and wrist aren’t part of the jacket, it’s part of him.

• He changes different tones depending on his emotions. Basically, when he’s feeling positive emotions he gets lighter and with negative emotions he gets darker. In some cases, when he’s experiencing strong positive or negative emotions, a few things happen. With positive, rainbows start to appear and with negative rain or lightning start to appear. I drew this to give a better idea of what I mean.🧍🏾‍♀️💥

That’s all I have for now. I’m not sure if these info will change, so far I’m okay with them, but I’ll let you know if I make some changes. 😶

[somanyratsinthewalls]

Congratulations on 700!! May I request Magenta Rooster? Our lovely Corazon is so clumsy to begin with and I really wanna see how clumsy he can get during drunk/high sex (I'd love to see him high af tbh) some fluffy smut would just be 🤌🏼 chefs kiss

When I read this request from @firefistussy I screamed because it's the cutest thing I've ever heard in my life. As a stoner who loves dorks and high sex, this was the perfect set up.

Under The Influence (18+)

Pairing: Corazon x Fem!Reader

Prompt: Drunk/High Sex

WC: 2000

Warnings: I wrote this high on 20mg of edibles (I felt it was appropriate for this occasion, but sorry babes if it sucks ass) high sex, marijuana usage and mention, p in v sex, unprotected sex, OKAY JUST LIKE A BRIEF SECOND OF BUTT TO V BUT DONT DO THAT, ITS FUNNY FOR THE PLOT, fingering, creampie, breeding, clumsy idiot cora, awkward sex, cute cora tho.

— —

It was a hell of a day. 

From sun up you had been busy with paperwork and handling purchase orders for the Don Quixote family. You hated being associated with such an infamous family, but they always paid your salary on time and that was what mattered. Being a member of a notorious pirate family came with another perk… you never had to worry about running out of weed. The Don Quixote family was dealing in markets much darker than marijuana, so they had no problem keeping your supply full. 

All you wanted was a hot shower and to lay up on your couch with an obscenely large joint. And so, you made plans to do that after retiring to your quarters for the day. You rolled yourself the perfect marijuana cigarette and set it down on your pink mirrored tray (a “gift” from your boss) next to the lighter. Next, you stripped yourself of your sweaty clothes and started the shower. 

Once hot enough, you stepped through the foggy glass door and submerged yourself under the water. You let out a long sigh as the hot water soothed your tired body. You take the time to tenderly massage your scalp while you shampoo and condition your hair. Once the products were rinsed out, you lathered your body in the sweet vanilla scented body wash that the men around you always commented on. 

After your shower, you hopped out and dried off before you wrapped yourself in a short, black terrycloth robe. You towel off your hair and return to your bedroom where you flopped onto your loveseat and grabbed the lighter. You bring the joint to your lips and light it carefully so that it burned evenly. 

You throw your head back against your velvet throw pillow as the first clouds of smoke hit your lungs. You kick your feet up entirely so that you can recline on the couch as you continue to smoke. You weren’t sure how many minutes had gone by before you heard a gentle knock on your door. 

*tap tap*

“Come in…” You shout as you exhale smoke. 

The door opens but you don’t turn around. 

*thunk*

“Shit-“

You hear the lamp on your end table rattle. 

“How did you know I was up, Rosi?” You smile and take another hit off your joint, knowing exactly who it was without sitting up and turning your head.  

“The whole place can smell that you’re up. You’re not exactly discrete.” Corazon says with a smirk as he walks towards the couch. 

“I wasn’t trying to be.” You grin and tilt your head back on the pillow so you were looking up at his imposing figure upside down. You hold the joint straight up so that it was near Corazon’s face. “Come take a hit?” You asked. 

Corazon shook his head but didn’t back away. 

“I shouldn’t. I’m still on the clock.” 

“You’re always on the clock… with that monstrous brother of yours… come on, a few puffs won’t hurt.” You coo as you wiggle the marijuana closer to him. Corazon sighs before plucking the joint from your fingers. 

“You know I can’t say no to you…” He huffs as he sits opposite your reclining form on the loveseat. His large stature requires you to put your legs up and crossed on the back of the couch to make room for him, your robe riding up your nude thighs a bit. Corazon catches himself ogling your exposed skin and adjusts his gaze. He takes a long drag from your joint and you raise your eyebrows expectantly. 

He starts coughing immediately, violently.  

“Gods, Rosi take a drink.” You giggle as you hand him your glass of wine. He chugs several sips and then catches his breath. 

“It’s been awhile…” Corazon chuckles and tries to cover for his inexperience. 

“You’re so cute. Just shotgun it from me.” You smile and take the joint from his large, outstretched hand. His huge fingers made it look comically small. 

“Just… what…?” Corazon looks up at you with his brows furrowed. 

You laugh again and sit up to cross your legs in front of you on the couch facing the blonde man. 

“I’ll smoke, and blow it in your mouth. It’s less harsh for you that way. Come here.” You say as you straighten up and beckon him closer. 

Corazon looks nervous as he leans closer to your much smaller frame. 

You suck in a large hit and reach out to grab the back of his head and gently pull his mouth to yours. You breath the smoke out slowly into his open mouth, lips just barely ghosting each others. Corazon inhales the smoke and breathes it out much easier this time. 

He pulls back and smiles down at you. 

“That was better…” He laughs. 

“I liked it too… come here.” You whisper as you take another long drag. You pull Rosinante by his hair back to your lips, pressing them together lightly this time before exhaling the intoxicating smoke. 

���If I was speculating… I’d say you were trying to get me high, Miss y/n.” Corazon says as he breathes out another cloud of smoke in your face. 

“Hmmm and what would be so bad about that?” You muse as you prepare to give him another hit. You deliver the thick smoke straight to his lungs while darting out your tongue to swipe across his bottom lip, teasingly. “Afraid you might not be able to resist your subordinate with your guard down?” You whisper into his lips. You unfurl your legs and rest them on either side of Corazon’s body. 

Corazon blows out his smoke. He shifts his body so he’s hovering over you. 

“Who says I’m resisting?” Corazon smirks. 

“Kiss me, Rosi.” You softly plead in your dazed state. You drop the almost finished joint in the ashtray beside you. 

Wordlessly, Corazon presses his lips firmly onto yours as he cups your cheek gently with one hand, the difference in pressure sent your mind swimming. He tasted like both tobacco and marijuana. He slid his tongue past your lips to explore the rest of your mouth sensually. You sighed in approval and he slipped his hand up your bare thigh to rest at the juncture of your leg and body, squeezing your flesh teasingly. 

You buck your hips with need. 

“What do you want, y/n?” Your massive blonde lover asks you. 

“Touch me…” You say quietly as you spread your legs fully beneath him. 

“As you wish…” Corazon whispers as he moves his hand from your hip bone to swipe two fingers down your slit and back up, wetness from your hole coating his large digits. He circles your clit gently, and you whimper, the marijuana heightening every sensation. 

“M-more, Rosi.. w-want to feel you inside…” You plead as he teases your clit with soft pets. 

“You know how I feel about saying no to you…” Corazon smiles before plunging those two fingers into your quivering hole, a deep groan leaving you as he crooks them upwards immediately into your favorite spot. 

“Shit.. yes… just like that…” You say as you grip the blonde locks at the back of his head, bringing his head closer to your chest. Corazon uses his other hand to rip your robe open as he balances carefully on his knees, he then delves into your right breast with an eager mouth. He suckles desperately at your erect nipple as you melt into his touch. 

“Just a little more, yes, fuck Rosi!” You thrust your hips up into his palm so that it would rub against your clit while the pads of his fingers hammer into your g-spot. “Shit, right there… I’m gonna cum, fuck!” You pull harshly on Corazon’s hair as you see stars and gush all over his large hand. 

You breath heavily and loosen your grip on the back of Corazon’s scalp. You sooth over the patch that you pulled on with soft strokes of your hand. 

“Good, love?” Rosinante pulls away from you and asks. 

“Yes, just take me to bed now, please.” You demand with a wicked grin. 

Without needing another verbal reminder of how he’d always tell you yes, Corazon picks you up in his strong arms and carries you to the bed. 

“Fuck-“ Corazon huffs as he trips over your discarded high heels and flops the both of you onto your purple comforter unceremonious. 

You can’t help but giggle up at him, shocked he’d survived this long on earth with how clumsy he is. Choosing to ignore his misstep, Corazon attacks your neck with nips and bites, sending you immediately back into the mood. Your head was still so fuzzy from the weed and now the orgasm, that you shivered under his rough kisses. 

“Turn around for me, baby.” Corazon whispers into your skin.

You gladly obliged and sluggishly toss your robe off and position yourself on your hands and knees on the bed. It took far longer than it should, due to your inebriated state, but it gave Corazon the time to strip himself of his own shirt and pants. He comes up behind you wearing nothing but his pink love-heart printed boxer shorts. Swiftly, he tugs down his underwear and lets his painfully erect cock spring free and prod at your soft skin. Corazon’s head was swimming with intoxication and arousal as he smoothed one large hand over your spine and nudged the head of his cock into you with the other. 

“Fuck me, Rosinante…” You coo as you push you ass back into him. 

“Yes, mama… Anything you want…” Corazon pushes his hard member into you and sinks about two inches in before you yelp and push your hands back against his abs. 

“Cora! Wrong fucking hole!” You grit out as you whip your head around at him. 

“Gods! Sorry! Fuck!” Corazon jumps back in surprise and pulls himself out of your ass, even though he had just dipped his tip in. 

“Lower!” You hiss out. 

“Right, shit, sorry baby…” Cora grips his hard cock and shifts it lower and finds your drooling hole without any more difficulty. 

“Yesssss…” You moan out as Corazon bottoms out inside your wet walls. 

“Fuuuuck…” Corazon groans as he begins to thrust his hips against yours, lost in the feeling of your pussy sucking him in. 

“Harder! Fuck, Rosi, harder!” You yell as your eyes roll into the back of your head. 

“Anything for you… OOF-“ Rosinante grunts as he loses his balance on top of you and ends up pinning you to the mattress on your stomach, slipping out of you in the process. 

Frustrated, you groan. 

“Get on your fucking back.” You push him by the shoulders and flip his body over. You straddle his waist and align his weeping cock up with your clenching hole. 

“Please give it to me, mama…” Corazon whines at you. 

It was such a beautiful sight, high out of his mind, drooling on himself trying his best not to slam his hips up into you. You oblige and sink yourself down on his massive cock. You grin stupidly as your pelvis reaches his, his public bone tickling your clit. 

You brace your hands on Corazon’s massive torso as you begin to grind yourself back and forth on top of him, making sure his length was rubbing against your g-spot with every movement. You couldn’t help but moan as you begin to get closer and closer to your second peak of the evening. You grunt like an animal as you grind yourself to the edge of another orgasm.

“I can feel you getting close…” Corazon whispers out as he grips your ass with one hand and wraps the other gently around your throat. “I’m close too… want you to cum so you can milk me dry, baby… just let go… use me…” 

With those filthy words you finally snap and release all over Corazon’s thighs and abdomen. 

“Fuck!” You cry out and throw your head back. 

“There it is, stay there and take all of it…” Corazon grips you by your shoulders and pushes you impossibly far down on his cock, causing you to whine at how it pushes against your cervix. 

“So… full…” You sigh as you collapse into Corazon’s shoulder. 

You can hear laughter rumble from your lover’s chest. 

“I’m tired, too.” Corazon says. “Best we go to sleep before we raid the kitchen.” 

You immediately pick your head up from the crook of his neck. 

“Oooh, kitchen?” Your eyebrows raise. 

Corazon rolls his eyes. 

“I’ll fix you a snack.” 

— — 

Hope you enjoyed!

Xx Mo 

[anyknotrants]

Prompt: Broken bullet

words: 1615

warning: mentioned torture, implied/referenced panic attack, Jason and his amazing coping mechanisms

Jason wore a broken bullet around his neck. 

Not just any bullet, no, it was the first and only bullet he fired when he went into the Titan Tower to kill Robin. 

He knew it was bit fucked up- okay, a lot fucked up, but he was a Bat, did you expect him to deal with his emotions in a normal way? 

It just- it reminded him of that day. It reminded him of the way he almost killed, and brutally tortured, an innocent kid. 

Because that’s what Tim was in the end, an innocent kid that just wanted to help.

It reminded him to keep himself in check, it reminded him what happens when he slips, when the green clouds his mind. 

But it was supposed to be secret. Jason was not stupid, he knew this was about the worst way to cope, but he couldn’t help it. It was supposed to be a secret, it was by design, that even if someone was the bullet, they wouldn’t know it to be the one from the Titan Tower. It was just impossible. 

So of course Tim figured it out. 

Jason still had no idea how. 

It was a slow night, one of the rare nights when the even rarer blue moon was visible, which was a surprise on its own. 

Jason, Tim and Duke were the only ones taking care of Gotham right now. Bruce was with Clark for some unknown reason (something about the moon??), Dick was in space with Wally on a mission or whatever, Steph and Cass were in Hong Kong (trying to find a cure for some flower disease (???)) and Damian also who knows where. (Jason would know, if he bothered to check, but he didn’t)

As the night ended, both Red Robin and Red Hood retreated back to the Cave.

“Alright boys, that’ll be all from me, I'll alert you if there would be some emergency, but until then, Oracle signing out, good night.” A voice came from the cave speakers, and not a second later, a click that indicated that Babs was, in fact, signing off. 

Jason parked his bike —making a mental note to himself to look over it and clean it later— tossed his helmet on one of the benches, and all but melted into one of the couches. This night may have been quiet, but the last three sure as hell haven’t. 

“So…” Tim started, sitting in front of the Batcomputer, clicking away at the keyboard. “Any new jewelry or accessory that you’ve acquired?” he asked, still not looking at him. 

Now that had Jason���s mind kicking up again. Because as nonchalant as he tried to sound, there were obvious strains in his tone, and his posture. And the question was also really specific. 

He wondered for a moment if this was about the wedding band he had from Roy —when they eloped in Vegas, black out drunk, after Jason left Gotham after the Tower incident— but no, that couldn’t be it, that was months old news, one that his family already knew. 

“What are you on about, Timbit?” he asked, going for a lighter tone, and only seeing Tim tense up more. 

“Oh, I don’t know, any used weaponry? A broken bullet, perhaps? One that you couldn’ve used… I don’t know, in a fit of rage?” Tim’s voice was getting darker by the second. 

Jason’t blood freezed in his veins. He couldn’t- could he? No, there was no way he would— right? How would he even know? No, this had to be a mistake.

“What are you talking about?” Deny, deny, deny. That seemed to be the safest route here. He sat up on the couch, as Tim turned to face him, slowly. His mask was gone, and there was nothing short of pure anger and hurt in his eyes. Jason wondered for a second if he hadn't taken a dip in the Pit. 

“So— you mean to tell you you are not wearing a bullet that you fired at me in the Tower around your neck?” 

Jason's heart stopped. 

How did– how did he— he wasn’t ever supposed to— 

“What— How did you—”

“So it’s true!” Tim shouted, all but jumping from the chair, but still keeping his distance. 

“No-” 

“So you just casually wear a bullet that could have very well killed me, when you broke into the Tower? When you broke into one of the only safe places I had, when you tortured me?!”

“If you just listened–”

“NO! you wanted a reminder, didn’t you? A reminder that I’m only alive because you CHOSE TO LET ME LIVE!!?!”

“YOU—!” Jason roared right back, green nudging at the corners of his vision. He took a step towards Tim- and immediately stopped. 

Because Tim flinched. He flinched away from him, even though Jason was still a good few feet away. He flinched, and only now did Jason notice the slight shake over his whole body. 

The green melted away faster than it ever appeared. 

Because Tim was scared. 

Tim was afraid of him. 

Jason really, really fucked up. 

The silence in the cave was overwhelming. 

Jason took a step back. Loud enough that it was heard, but not loud enough to evoke any more memories— nightmares, that he already has. 

He kept his hands where Tim could see them, and started walking backwards, until he hit a wall. Even as the younger teen glared daggers at him for doing so, his posture relaxed, even if the slightest bit. 

He slid back down the wall, now sitting on the floor, a good 8 feet away. Slowly, as slowly as he could, he reached for one of his more visible knives, keeping the other hand still up. Tim tensed slightly again, but not by that much, after all, whatever was Jason about to do he could fight off the knife easily enough. 

But that didn’t happen. No, Jason unsheathe the knife, leveled it to the ground, and slid it over the floor towards Tim.

The young boy could only stare, as the cold metal clanged at his feet. He dared to look down, losing sight of Jason for a moment, but when he looked up again, Jason was already sending another one. 

Tim was confused for a second, scared, but by the third dagger, he realized what Jason was doing. 

He was disarming himself. 

He was disarming himself, to Tim, even though Tim just shoved some rather alarming and violent behaviour. 

He was disarming himself for Tim.

By the time Jason worked himself up to pass over his last gun as well, Tim had a sizable pile of various weaponry at his feet. 

They both knew that Jason had more than that. All of them always had more than that, he didn’t think anyone in this family ever went without at least a batarang anywhere, but the message was clear. 

Jason disarmed himself, gave his weapons to Tim, so the teen could feel safer. And the worst part? It was working. 

They stayed in silence,  Jason slumped against the wall, his eyes avoiding Tim for a moment. Tim’s gaze never left him. 

“....it does serve as a reminder.” Jason broke the silence, startling Tim a bit. He did not expect him to speak so soon. Sill, the admittance from Jason left a bitter taste in Tim’s mouth. He thought they were getting better, That Jason cared, but all this time– 

“But not for the reason you think.” Tim’s eyes snapped back to Jason, not even realizing he let his gaze fall, wide, still scared blue eyes meeting ble-green ones. Come on Tim, you can do better than that, and— no, those tears better stay in. 

When Tim didn’t respond, Jason took that as his cue to continue, averting his eyes yet again, fiddling with the zipper on his jacket’s sleeve. 

“It serves as a reminder, but not— well yes, it reminds me of how I almost killed you, how I almost killed an innocent kid–” There was a growl growing in Jason’s chest, begging to be let out. Jason took a deep breath. Don’t scare the kid. Don’t make him run again. 

“It reminds me what happens when I lose control, it reminds me why I shouldn't.” He choked back a sob. Damn, emotional conversations were hard. No wonder Bruce didn’t like them. 

“It helps keep the Pit at bay, because every time I look at it, I remember. I remember the kid that looked up to me that I beated up. I remember my baby brother, who I tortured, who’s trust in anyone I shattered. I remember—” Jason’s words were spilling faster and faster, giving the speedster’s run for their money, but once he started, he just kept going—

His words were suddenly cut off, when an object the size of a human child collided with him.

Jason looked down. 

No, not an object. A kid. 

A kid who was sobbing into his chest, clutching him like a lifeline. 

Jason wasn't sure what to do. The kid never hugged him on his own. Sure, there were the half-hugs, and group hugs (courtesy of Dick) but he never— he never….

Jason wrapped his hands around Tim’s stupidly small body, keeping his touch gentle, not wanting to hurt, or to trigger Tim. 

Only when Tim pressed himself even closer to him —which, wow, Jason was not sure if that was possible— did Jason tighten his drip, all but squeezing the life out of him. 

Jason didn’t know when tears started falling from his eyes as well, or when both of them stopped. 

He just sat on the Cave’s floor, holding his little brother in his arms.

(not my proudest work (far from it) but it could be worse)

[youkidding-me]

expanding on my previous post about orym witnessing cyrus's funeral

the silken squall burn their deceased over open bodies of water or forests, so their spirits can keep travelling after their bodies are gone

because of this, they have to move the city to the closest body of water/forest

the loved ones or volunteering magic users take turns watching over the body and keeping it cold. it's also a way for the deceased to not be left alone, assuring them their community is with them until the end

during the few days of travel, the immediate family will be showered with love, provided with food and having their house cleaned by their neighbours/friends/distant family. this is to give them time to mour and to prepare the cremation ceremony

dorian's house is the biggest tent in the city, made of probably a few dozen tents connected between each other and almost as tall as a two-story building

everyone lives in portable homes but it's colorful and organized. the tents have creative patterns either weaved, embroidered or painted on them. the stone roads make mosaics of air genasi motifs

the wyvernwind home is the only one covered with a huge linen roofing, though the normal colorful tent peaks underneath it

the entire wyvernwind is dressed in linen. not entirely, though, just their jewelry. dorian is always impeccably dressed, but his rings, earrings, boots, belt and shoulder piece has linen sewn around it. his father and mother are the same

dorian is almost always busy watching cyrus's body, recepting other air genasi that wish to bring food to the wyvernwinds, hand-making the wooden boat that will burn with cyrus in a few days

orym spends a lot of time with goyan enlil-wyvernwind, dorian's mom, since zeru wyvernwind seems to have assumed most of the work on land

(orym suspects the man is avoiding his grieving home's emotional needs like the plague)

they talk a lot about dorian - his childhood, his adventures outside that city, his music, his fight - but she also seems interested about orym

more than once orym thinks if she actually wants to know about his life with the air ashari and how much it's her common diplomatic gait

"the linen?" she answers orym. it took him three days to build courage to ask. "have you noticed how our skin looks against the sky?"

goyan was the slightest darker than dorian, though her hair was a lighter blue. the resemblance to her son was undeniable, even if her eyes were green like cyrus's

"you look like the sky on a clear day"

"every day is clear up here" she said with a smile. "under all this linen, against the blue, what do we look like?"

"clouds" orym answered, and she nodded. "we look like clouds. it's an old tradition that says that, if we cover our loved one in linen, we'll not be saying goodbye to a loved one, but to a cloud passing by."

she managed to say the entire thing with posture, but drops everything she's holding and covers her mouth, breathing hard. "oh no, my baby! my baby, my baby, my baby..."

and orym comforts her, knowing too well what she's feeling

orym can't help to watch cyrus, but he's everywhere else: his hands bleed after cutting all the wood for the boat, he seems to be the only reason dorian remembers to eat and drink water, and he loses his sleep to hold his insomniac lover

"i'm such a fucking failure. i suck, i suck so much. i can't do this, orym, i can't fucking do this" dorian growls against his chest

"i'm right here, my love. we'll do this together. you're doing incredibly, i'm so proud of you."

"it should be him in my place. i was never meant to be here, this not my place"

orym swallows the vision of unconscious dorian in his arms under the radiant gaze of predathos. he wants to smack dorian for saying nonsense, but he knows that pain too well. "not a lot of people can say they were so loved until the very end. in times of chaos, you are giving cyrus the treatment of a prince."

"i barely feel like myself most of the time. i can't remember the days."

and orym holds him, because he knows how it feels

zeru comes back the morning of the ceremony, the sixth day of orym's stay. his skin is ashy and his light blue eyes have sunk into his skull

goyan is keeping him company, touching his arm, his face, his back - and he leans into the touch every time with fail

they have a family meal and zeru avoids dorian's gaze at all costs. orym doesn't know if dorian noticed, because his gaze is equally focused on the table

by the end of the day, the city is reunited, with the wyvernwinds ahead, by the edge of the silken squall. beneath them, the ocean glistens dark blue and purple

cyrus's boat is perfectly tailored for his size, filled with a few of his belongings and his body fully protected by linen. before sending it away, an old genasi lady cuts off the linen on the wyvernwinds clothes and puts the fabric in the boat as well

cyrus floats away, though always closest to dorian than anyone else in the world

dorian whistles a tune as a guard raises a flaming arrow, that flies when the tune ends

fire silently burns the boat into dust as the dozens of genasi watched in complete silence. the only heir of the silken squall holds himself up, though his fingers squeeze orym's painfully

the first time dorian and zeru look at each other is when the last pieces of brumestone fall and there's nothing else to watch. father and son look nothing alike, orym notices - zeru's angular jaw and broad built is an almost ghostly replica of cyrus. dorian's dimples and loose waves resemble his mother a lot more

they don't say a word. dorian's tears are loud and choked, cutting the night air like a knife to the gut. zeru's tears are ragged and tired, ringing with his deep voice, like the land cried with him

goyan hold both of them, closing themselves from the rest of the world

orym decides to leave with the other genasi citizens back to his quarters. as much as he promised he'd be there for him, this was the time for the wyvernwinds. when dorian needs him, he'll be right there to help and support him, like dorian is for him

the night fell, but the sun will always rise in the end

[coyfoxarts]

MLP Redesign, Part 4 + Princess Celestia and Princess Luna

( P1, Unicorns ) + ( P2, Pegasi ) + ( P3, Earth Ponies ) + ( Mane Six )

PRINCESS CELESTIA

Her coat has been changed to be a bit more pink, as well as have several yellow, orange, and white markings to try and resemble the colour of the sunrise, as well as to match the style of Lunas markings.

Her mane and tail have been changed from the flowy, magical effect to a more cloud-like shape and pattern to resemble the skies.

Her crown, armor, and shoes have been changed to have a more sun-shaped style to them, as well as the gem on her chest plate being changed to a symbol resembling a sun and moon.

PRINCESS LUNA

Luna is now a bat pony, I just felt like that worked better for her :^)

Her coat has been changed to be slightly more purple, as well as having multiple spotted patterns, both darker and lighter than her main coat colour.

Her mane and tail have been changed from one solid colour to a variety of blues, tinted with purples and teals, both in an attempt to make her and Celestia look a bit more similar to one another, and to represent an aurora borealis.

Her crown, armor and shoes have also been changed - Hers have been changed from black to silver, and to similar style to Celestias, but with a moon motif as opposed to sun.

[miabebe]

The Legend of The Sea

"You're crying? You must be turning human, the MerFolk don't cry."

"Of course we do. Why do you think the Sea is nothing but salt?"

Pairing: Choi Seungcheol × reader Genre: Heavy Angst, Romance, Implied smut Word count: 14K (completed) A/N: This was supposed to be a very long fic with lots of dialogue and lot of plot but I decided to take a turn and write a shorter version! It's very different from my usual writing style, it would be great to receive your thoughts and comments! I'm considering writing a epilogue if the response is good :) Tags: @xcynthiaaa @dr3aluv5 @unlikelysublimekryptonite @orcasandtea @letsplayitcool @idubutily

It all started the day you woke up on the beach with that unbearable pain searing through you.  

The air was cool, the sand was hot; the seagulls were flying across the blue sky, the sound of the waves was like a beautiful melody – it was like a perfectly painted picture. It should have felt pleasant, it should have felt serene, instead you felt immense pain, like your guts were turning inside out and your chest was being split into two.

And it just wouldn’t stop. Even if you thrashed about in the sand or let out soundless screams clutching your chest, nothing could make the pain stop.  

Except the soft laughter.  

Someone else was here. 

As the pain ebbed at the sound of a voice, fear came rushing in its place.  

Someone else was here.   

Your instincts told you to hide so you did, scrambling to your knees in the sand, crouching behind one of the many large boulders scattered around, trying your best not to be found. And to not let curiosity get the better of you….. until it eventually did.

You allowed yourself to peak, just a little, just to put a face to the voice and instead saw a bouncing fluffy cloud of white. Strange. You didn’t know clouds came down like that. Or that they had eyes, because suddenly, this one looked right at you.

You immediately retreated back into your hiding but it was in vain - within seconds, it made its way over and much to your surprise, jumped right into your lap, covering you in wet, eager licks. You panicked, trying to defend yourself, although it didn’t feel like much of an attack.  

And that was when you saw him.  

First, he was just a silhouette, a dark outline against the sun but when he crouched down to meet your eye, you realised he was the most beautiful thing you’d ever seen. He had such pretty hazel eyes, lighter in the middle, darker on the outside. Then there were the thick, dark eyebrows and thicker darker hair, swept back by the wind. He was wearing a white dress shirt, the first two buttons (unnecessarily) undone, the sleeves (needlessly) pushed up to his elbow. But your eyes were stuck on his lips – red, full of life and moving – he was saying something.   

You can’t hear him, not with the way your stomach was turning and turning and turning and then unable to hold back, you gave in. You turned and doubled up, finally throwing up all that discomfort into the sand, breaking into a fit of cough. The man before you though, wasn’t fazed. Rather, he was efficient, quickly getting up, pulling you away from the mess gently and handed you the bottle of water he had on him. You refused - water was only making you more nauseous.

He didn’t insist, instead he unfolded a large piece of cloth, (later you learnt that it was called a picnic blanket) and threw it over you. It was only its warmth that you realised – unlike him, every bit of your skin was exposed. You held the fabric closer to yourself hoping you could just bury yourself in the sand instead of having to face him – something about the way he looked at you made you feel very vulnerable.  

He then asked if you were feeling okay but only received silence as an answer. The truth was, you weren’t. Not only were you in the middle of nowhere, you had no idea why or how you got there. It seemed like he understood that; like he realised you were lost and needed help. When he got up and held his hand out though, you didn’t take it. Instead, you took support of the boulder behind you and got up on your own, only to lose your footing and stumble right into his arms. You instantly pulled yourself away and took another faltering step and then another, and then fell right back into his arms again. He was amused but didn’t say or do anything except watch you try, ankles sinking in the sand, knees unfaithfully giving away every time, until finally you gave up and took his hand. Slowly and silently, he led you far away from there.  

That day you learnt his name was SeungCheol.  

----------------------------------------------------------

That white cloud, Kkuma, was apparently what humans called a dog.  

While humans efficiently seemed to walk on two legs and could converse for hours, dogs apparently walked on four legs and couldn’t talk. Though you certainly looked like a human, you often wondered if you and Kkuma were the same. You too happened to find long hours of walking and talking difficult and more than anything, you didn’t seem to enjoy the company of other humans that much. That’s why the last one month, you spent most of your time with Kkuma, far away from most people, all the way across the town, in a small settlement between the lake and the mountains, in Seungcheol’s cottage.  

Seungcheol’s home was your safe haven. Rather, Seungcheol was your safe haven.  

When you were with him, when you looked at him, you always forgot that it had been four weeks and you still had no idea who you were, that you had no memories, you had no life.  

Because Seungcheol gave you a life. He taught you to walk the way you saw mothers hold the hands of their little babies, encouraging them to take a step forward. He taught you to read, scribbling away alphabets with you for hours on end, even when little children laughed at you for not understanding. He taught you that a fork was not the same thing as a comb and that water was used to wash yourself, and that fire was hot and burnt things.

He didn’t just teach you things, he cared for you. He noticed you liked the red and filled your wardrobe with red dresses. When you told him you really liked the taste of fish, fish was all he cooked for weeks. Though he never seemed to like being away from Kkuma, his little princess, he would always leave her behind to give you company whenever he left. 

Seungcheol left the house every morning at the break of down. So did most men, you noticed. The lady who lived down the stone pathway told you that men went out to make money while their wives, who stayed at home, cooked for them. That day you tried to cook for the first time, and asked Seungcheol if you were his wife. He laughed, then choked on a fish bone and asked you to leave all the cooking to him from here on and so you did.

Every day, Seungcheol would cook before he left while you stood beside him, watching in awe, handing him whatever he asked for. You usually ate breakfast and lunch with the animals in the stable but you always had dinner with Seungcheol. No matter how long he was gone for, end of the day, he always made it back to you.   

You watched the sun slowly setting behind the mountains. He should be here soon, which was why you shouldn’t be sitting by the lake anymore. Seungcheol always warned you to maintain a safe distance from it, to never go too near. He said it was dangerous, that people drown because they cannot breathe under water. You had seen it.  

When the woodcutter’s young boy fell into the lake a few weeks ago, you watched him thrash in the water, struggling to come up. A few brave people jumped in to save him but the boy never came out again. Everyone in town was scared of the lake, they hated it. Only the old ‘crazy’ lady that lived by the edge of the forest ever went near it. She wasn’t afraid of it; she said the lake was barely dangerous - it was the sea that was bad. That it had terrifying monsters and horrors that should never be uncovered. She liked the lake and honestly, so did you.

You liked how it never really felt cold and how the temperature was always just nice. You liked how all the fish swam up to you whenever you dangled your feet in, sitting by the bank, how at peace it all made you feel.  

But when you saw Hannie in the sky, you immediately pulled your legs out of the water and hid the wetness of your feet under the fabric of your long skirt. Hannie was Seungcheol’s other pet, a pretty, baby white dove. He wasn’t a pet, not really, he belonged to the skies but Hannie loved to follow Seungcheol everywhere and Seungcheol loved it just as much. Actually, the whole town seemed to love white doves – it was on their flags, their shields, their uniforms. Seungcheol said it was the emblem of the kingdom. You had no idea what that meant, and frankly you didn’t care much. All that mattered was that whenever you spotted this little white bird, instantly recognisable by the small tinge of red right in the middle of its chest, it meant Seungcheol was home. As it softly landed on the fence, right before the sun was completely engulfed by the mountains, you heard Seungcheol’s horse and opened the gates to let them in.  

Over dinner, Seungcheol told you about the fight that broke in the marketplace. It’s a funny place the market, something always seemed to be happening there. On the weekends, you would follow him through it as he went vendor to vendor, making his purchases. The people of the market were actually sweet. They would always smile and try to talk to you but you could never bring yourself to talk back, you could never find the right words to say. Instead, you’d simply stare blankly then move closer to Seungcheol, holding on to him. Eventually, they all started assuming you couldn’t speak. You didn’t correct them and looking at your reluctance, neither did Seungcheol. He would simply wave them away, or shoo the kids who seemed to tease you. As long as you were outside, Seungcheol would never leave your side or your hand.  

You didn’t like going out very much, the big crowds and all those loud noises were always highly uncomfortable but the few times Seungcheol insisted you come with him and said it would be fun, it was actually not that bad. He took you to the town’s lights festival, where every inch of the streets and houses was covered with the prettiest coloured lights, and also to the annual horse racing competition which was exhilarating beyond belief. Your favourite though was children’s drama day, when the little kids of the town participated in skits looking a lot, lot smaller than the original characters were supposed to be. He didn’t though, take you to that big feast that happened in the castle. You didn’t really mind – something about the castle was just very unnerving.  

It stood tall and proud, all the way at the edge of the town, up a long winding route, at the edge of the cliff, looking down at the sea waters. Initially you had no idea what a castle even was, but over time you learnt that it was where the king lived. The king was the most important person in the town and supposedly the kindest, wisest and strongest man too. If you didn’t know better, you would have thought Seungcheol was the king. Afterall, he helped everyone in the neighbourhood, he solved the fights in the markets, he protected the settlement from the wild dogs and other beasts of the forest. But Seungcheol was not the king. The king lived in the castle and Seungcheol lived with you.  

After dinner, like every other day, you sat in Seungcheol’s study, practicing writing your alphabets as he went through endlessly long scrolls of his own. Today when you handed him your work, he scolded you yet again for rushing through the last few lines. You knew you shouldn’t have but you can never help it because the faster you finished, the sooner Seungcheol would read to you. Granted you knew how to read now but you weren’t really good at it, not everything made sense. The small books were easy but they were boring - it was always about animals and children and other things. The big books were where everything interesting was.  

Every night before you went to sleep, Seungcheol would bring out a book, sitting down by the fireplace and you would curl up next to him, leaning over as he read to you. Sometimes he would read out history, recounts of great wars and heroes and sometimes about legends, the fire breathing dragons, sea monsters, fairies in the woods. While you listened to all of them with the same fascination and curiosity, a selected few made you feel somewhat…..different – the ones about true love. About two people fighting all odds to be together. About two people wanting to be with each other more than anything.

Whenever Seungcheol read those to you, you somehow saw yourself in those words. Or rather, those words in you. You found that ‘quickening heartbeat’ whenever your hand brushed against the man beside you. His compliments made the ‘heat in your cheeks rise’. There was a constant ‘nervous fidgeting of the fingers’ when you were around him and sharing of the ‘secret glances’. Even now as he was reading you were looking at him, at the way his lips were moving and how soft they looked and wondering how much softer they would feel against yours.

When Seungcheol turned to you, sensing your eyes on him, meeting them without hesitation, you could have leaned in, you could have found out. But you didn’t; you didn’t dare. Instead, you looked down at the book, at the pictures of the prince and princess dancing, wondering if you too had a happily ever after written in your fate.  

Maybe it was, because a few days later, when Seungcheol looked at you like that again, you didn’t hold back anymore. You didn’t want to. This time you leaned in, gently pressing your lips onto his, discovering much to your relief that they were indeed every bit as soft as they looked. His eyes widened when you pulled back immediately, but he didn’t say or do anything. Then a silence followed, heavy with confusion and anticipation and so many other things that you couldn’t quite fathom so you quickly excused yourself from there stating it might rain and you forgot to close your bedroom windows.

As you shut the doors of your room behind you, hand on your chest, you felt your heart racing away but you should have been at peace, right? You had finally plucked up the courage and satiated all that bubbling curiosity. Instead, you felt like you were going to lose your mind – now that you had a taste, you wanted more.   

Days passed before you finally kissed him again.

It was on a rainy night and you were sitting closer to him than usual, as though the fire was not enough to keep you warm. It started the same way, first a few stolen glances, then a long silent stare and then you were kissing him, soft and sweet but this time he pulled back and you didn't let him. Instead you grabbed a fistful of his shirt, holding him close, whispering that you wanted to do it again. He listened, kissing you back but it was different this time and god did it set off something in you.

His lips became demanding, and his hands were everywhere - in your hair, running down your back, on your waist. He took your breath away, quite literally because he just wouldn't stop and you couldn’t breathe. You didn't want to either but after what felt like eternity, you had to break apart, feeling all giddy. Seungcheol then gave you the brightest smile and one last peck. 

That went on for many more days. Sometimes it was sweet and simple, sometimes hot and heavy. Initially the books were your only witness then there were more. The peaking sun as he gave you a peak before he left in the mornings, the pots and pans of the kitchen while he focused on you instead of the burning bread, and kkuma, when he forgot to seek while she hid, his attention on your mouth instead. Everything was going blissful.

Then one day Seungcheol didn't come home even after the sun set.

You waited by the gate for a long time, but neither Hannie, nor Seungcheol, nor his horse could be seen. That was the first night you spent alone - shivering in the cold and terrified. The storms had begun outside, the rain was drowning everything in its way and as each hour passed, you sunk deeper and deeper into despair.

Even when the sun came up again the rain didn't stop, the pain didn't stop. Though you hadn't slept or eaten in hours you only thought about him. Even kkuma got tired of waiting and curled up in the warmest spot in the house but you stood by the door the whole time until you couldn't anymore.  

Not when you saw finally saw Hannie in the sky but Seungcheol didn't follow. That was when you knew something was terribly wrong. You immediately grabbed a lamp and were ready to set off to find him on your own when you saw the paper tied to the bird’s little foot. I'll be back soon it read in the handwriting you recognised was Seungcheol's, a wave of relief crashing over you.  

But it took very, very long for 'soon’ to come.

The rain had stopped, the sun had set, the sky had cleared and the stars were pitifully watching the way you sat against the door, desperately fighting your eyes threatening to fall shut. That was when you felt Seungcheol's hand on your face, gently tucking your hair behind your ear.  

You instantly got up, throwing yourself into his arms and for the first time ever, broke down, sobbing into his chest. He held you like that for as long as you didn't let him go, softly patting you, telling you it was okay, and that he's home. There was apparently a landslide near the mountains and he had to help the people stuck there but you didn't care what his reasons were. You were never going to let him go ever again, you'd fight the sun from coming up tomorrow morning if needed.

Seungcheol simply laughed and said first you should fight your stomach, it seemed like it was struggling in there. It was only when you admitted you hadn't eaten since last night that he let you go and walked into the kitchen to whip you a quick morsel.

That night he said he was too tired to read to you. Instead, he placed a soft kiss on your forehead with an apology and was about to retire to his room when you held him by the hand, scared to let him go again. He tried to comfort you but the tears just wouldn’t stop, not until he cupped your cheek and kissed you, whispering about how he missed this, how he missed you. You confessed that you did too, and his absence made you feel terrible, like never before.

Let me make you feel good then he said. But if he wanted to help you, why did it seem like he was pleading? Like if you didn't agree he would lose it? So you agreed, letting him do whatever he wanted, whatever he needed.

His mouth was hot on yours, hands wandering all over and when they tugged the strings of your dress, you let out an inaudible gasp against his lips. He swallowed your words, undressing you slowly, with his hands and his eyes. You felt so bare, so exposed yet you didn't feel like hiding from him - you wanted him to explore you however he could and god did he do it.

If you thought his mouth on yours felt good, the places he put it now were��wild. It was like he somehow knew every sensitive bit of your skin and went straight for it. He wasn't lying, this was better than good, it felt euphoric. He unravelled you with his touch, his hands in places even you hadn't felt yourself. You wanted more, you wanted so much more and he gave it, over and over again, letting you feel every inch of him, reaching as deep inside you as he could, like any distance between the both of you was unbearable. You let him consume you in his fire as the pain turned to a pleasure like never before, a coil tightening in the pits of your being. The both of you whispered each other’s names for as long as you could hold it until you finally let go and so did he, filling you with every last essence of him. As you laid side by side breathless, staring at the roof, you saw the stars have come down, swirling across the ceiling and you fell into a deep slumber.  

When you woke up that morning, the sun was almost right on top of the cottage, half the day having already passed. Seungcheol didn't leave that day, instead he was right there, pressed against your back, wrapping you in his embrace, your limbs messily tangled with each other’s. When you tried to free yourself from him, he pulled you closer, burying his face in your neck, taking in as much of you as he could before he said he had to leave again. I'll come back to you, he promised and you did not let him see how tears brimmed in your eyes as you waved him away.

After that day though, you never cried again. Or ever slept in your own bedroom. Like promised every night Seungcheol returned to you and every night you lay between the sheets together, some days making love, some days simply talking and laughing away, some days just drifting away to sleep in each other’s arms. It truly felt like happily every after but you forgot, happily ever after was only for fairytales.

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It was just another normal day. The both of you had woken up as usual to the crowing of the rooster before dawn. You gathered the vegetables in the garden while Seungcheol made the most wonderful soup, perfect for a cold day. After he kissed you goodbye and left, you cleaned the stables, drew water from the well, tended to the garden, washed up, donned your favourite red dress, ate lunch, took a nap, played with kkuma, and finally, sat by the lake again, trying to catch your breath. It was the same routine as the last eight weeks.  

As you unconsciously plucked on the grass, your mind couldn’t help but wander back to a question that had been plaguing you these days. Was this all your life was going to be? The same routine, waking up everyday knowing it was going to be the exact same as yesterday and will be the exact same as tomorrow? Sure, you loved Seungcheol and Kkuma and Hannie and this little life you had built together, but you couldn’t help but think if you were made for something more. This couldn’t be it right?  

It wasn’t. And you were moments away from finding out.

You were so lost in thought, you didn’t notice Hannie in the sky until he landed right next to you, making you hurriedly jump to your feet to get away from the lake only for your damned dress to get tangled between your feet, making you fall right into the waters. Thank God Seungcheol had reached just in time to see you disappear under the surface and immediately dived in. Using all his might he pulled you up before you were lost in the depths, coughing and catching his breath as he crawled onto the bank.

That was the first day things went very, very differently.  

Instead of greeting Seungcheol like you usually did every day, you shivered, walking away into the house to dry yourself. You didn’t change into another red dress but a blue on this time that made even Seungcheol raise an eyebrow in surprise. Dinner was not the same too. The kimchi which never ran out had finally run out, there was apparently no fish in the market today and seungcheol bought eggs for the first time. When he insisted you would like the taste, you tried it and you indeed did like it, a lot. He grinned at you and said you could always trust his word but how could you anymore? 

He told you to stay away from the lake, that people couldn’t breathe under it but when you fell in, you could. In there you felt, if not more, just as alive and breathing and the water – it spoke to you. At first you were sure you were dying - you should have listened to Seungcheol, you should have stayed away but here you were in the middle of the lake, so close to death that you were hallucinating voices. But when you realised you were actually breathing, you listened. 

Finish your mission Y/n. Finish the mission and you can become who you really are again. You can join the waters again. 

You didn’t understand.  

That night instead of a fairytale, you ask Seungcheol to tell you about the legend of the sea again so he did.

Centuries ago, back when there was magic on Land, there was an ancient war between two of the most powerful kingdoms of Earth – the Chois and the Kangs. They battled tirelessly, day and night, for months to the point where uncountable bodies began piling, resources began running out and even the heavens begged them to stop - there would be nothing left of the Earth this way. But that’s the thing about power – relinquishing it was not an option.  

Finally, one unfortunate day, the Chois gained an upper hand in battle, forcing the Kangs to seek refuge in hiding. The Kangs though, disappeared overnight - though the Chois searched every corner of Land, they could not find them. It was only when they sort to use magic to find them that victors of the battle realised, they had lost their most prized possession – the Sceptre. The sceptre was like the motherboard of all magic on Earth – it was the source. After years of combing every inch of Land, the Chois finally came to the conclusion that the Kangs and the Sceptre were in the one place that no one on Land could reach – The Sea.  

Indeed, powered by magic, the entire kingdom of the Kangs and all those who stood by their side had retreated into the ocean, making a life for themselves there. Using the magic, they kept themselves alive, preparing once again to battle for what they believed was rightfully theirs. But the Earth could not take another war, at this rate, nothing would be left and so, the Council of the Land and the Council of the Sea were formed, to keep peace between both kingdoms. After months of debate, both councils came to a Pact.

The Kangs were allowed to keep the magic but were forbidden from ever stepping on Land. The very magic they stole was used to strip them of their ability to breath air, forcing them to stay in the waters for life. The Chois on the other hand, were allowed to rule Land but were never to see magic again – the Land would not know of it and would not use it anymore. And most importantly, the Land and the Sea were never to meet. Every single ship in sight was burnt, boats were torn apart, walls were built at the border of every coastal city.  

Over generations, not only did the Land never interact with the Sea but they began to fear it, malicious stories of monsters and merpeople making their way into children’s bedtime stories and fairytales. A few brave, rebellious souls would try to break The Pact and venture into the Sea but no one really lived to tell the tale.

Seungcheol said that there will never be anyone with a tale to tell because like all legends, this too was no more than just a story and a speculation. But for the first time, you don’t believe him.  

Instead, you think merpeople truly do exist and as impossible as it sounded, you might just be one of them

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You looked at the pretty red dress you had laid out on the bed for today.  

Today was important for more than one reasons.

Today was the annual citizen’s banquet, which meant it was the first time you were going to the castle. Today was also the first time you were going to see the king and most importantly, today was also probably the day you were going to find out who you really are.  

You didn’t tell Seungcheol about what happened that day in the lake. Maybe because he believed that the Legend of the Sea was not true or because you yourself were not sure you entirely believed it, but somehow you, who told Seungcheol about everything, didn’t tell him about this. You needed more confirmation first, you needed to go into the lake once more.

But surprisingly, the lake you once liked so much looks more daunting now. You were not afraid of drowning, rather you were afraid what being able to survive the waters would mean. You kept avoiding it, telling yourself one day you couldn’t go in there because you had to brine the vegetables and that you had to bathe the cows or whatever other excuse you could find until one day all the chores were over and you ran out of excuses. You had to go in now.  

Carefully looking around to make sure there was no one in sight, you sat down on the bank, put a foot first, then the other, then slowly lowered yourself in, submerging into the waters, kkuma’s barks fading out, the voices taking over.  

Finish your mission Y/n and join the waters again.  

It was true.  

You weren’t imagining things, you were indeed breathing in there, the voices were real, everything was ridiculously real. It didn’t make any sense but it also really did. The water felt like home, like you belonged. You could swim much faster, better than you could walk. You felt stronger, more powerful, more like you in there. Even though the lake looked like it held darkness, you could clearly see everything below – the animals, the plants, the life, all of it. Oh, you wanted to join the waters, you wanted to be here forever.

But when you opened your mouth to ask what the mission was, only the gurgling sound of bubbles left you. Somehow just the thought was enough because you heard the answer soon enough and it sent a chill down your spine.  

Kill the King.  

You looked at yourself in the mirror, donning your dress.

The price for finding out who you were was to kill the king, the most important man in the town.

You couldn’t.

Taking the life of another could not be the price of your truth. So, you had decided to forget about it. It was wrong and unethical and whoever asked you of that had clearly lost their mind except….. it was you.

The more you thought about it, the more you could not deny it – the voice in the lake was your own, as though you had left yourself a message, a reminder. Why on Earth would you want to kill the king? Then again, how did you, someone who clearly belonged to The Sea, find themselves on land? Why was it that you remembered nothing?

Maybe killing the king had a bigger purpose, a noble one, after all, all kings were not necessarily good.  

You had to find out. You had to meet him and see for yourself.

And as though the universe was aligning things into place for you, the night you decided to ask Seungcheol about visiting the castle, he mentioned that the king was arranging a grand banquet to which all citizens of the town were invited. He said if you were not comfortable you didn’t have to go but you cut him off much to his surprise, insisting that you want to attend.  

That’s how days later you found yourself standing at the gates of the castle as the crowd of town poured into the estate on either side of you. Seungcheol was supposed to pick you up tonight but instead there was a carriage waiting for you, with a message relayed by the footman that he got caught up in something and will meet you in the banquet.

The banquet was arranged in a large hall right in the middle of the castle and it was perhaps the most stunning place you had ever seen. The stone walls were covered in drapes of red and purple, the large windows shining with the views of prettily trimmed gardens. There were beautiful paintings everywhere, statues of men in armour and food of all kinds being serve around. Almost the whole town fraternised under the large golden chandelier, each dressed better than the other, chattering away in small whispers. You stayed near the large pillars of stone, as far away from the crowd as possible, eyes still looking for Seungcheol, ears trying to tune out all that people were saying around you.  

But you couldn’t ignore the loud sound of the trumpet as it echoes through the hall, followed by an announcement that the King had arrived. As your heart thumped away in your chest, he appeared, at the top of the stairs that led down into the hall, dressed in what you thought was rather simple for a king. You wanted to move closer to get a better look as he descended down the stairs but you realised everyone around you was bowing down to him so you mirrored it, staring at the white marble of the floor. Its only when a pair of pretty leather shoes appear right before you that you allow yourself to look up, facing the one person you were to see tonight – the king.

He was nothing like you hoped. He didn’t look malicious, or evil or like he was even capable of doing something wrong. He had the kindest eyes, crinkled with crows’ feet as he smiled at you so warmly, you felt nothing but comfort. Only one other person in this whole town ever made you feel safe like that. From the looks of his salt and pepper hair, he looked like he was aging, and the wisdom that came with time also shone on his face. He smiled so pleasantly, didn’t dress in a way that showed off all his wealth, and didn’t seem to harbour any sort of superiority because the moment the music swelled to life, he held his hand out to ask you, a commoner, for a dance.  

The whole town looked at you as though they were waiting so you placed your hand on his, letting him lead you to the middle of the floor as everyone else immediately moved to pick partners of their own.

Seungcheol had taught you how to dance. When you expressed your interest to go to the banquet, he told you there would also be a dance accompanying it and showed you how it was done. He was so patient with you, even though you stepped on his foot and banged his head with yours a few hundred times, bursting into a string of apologies whenever you did. But he only laughed, holding you close and dancing with you through the rainy night. You wondered where he was right now but that was the least of your worries considering you were dancing with the man you were deemed to kill and to your absolute disappointment, you could not find one reason to do so.  

You hoped so hard that you were right, that the king was a bad man and you were given this mission to make things right but he wasn’t. As much as you tried to not eavesdrop, you still heard whatever the people around you were whispering away. They were all in praises of him. They said he was a great man and under his ruling, the town was doing better than ever. They said the harvest was good thanks to him, that the they were safe from invasion thanks to him and were all living well thanks to him.

A part of you knew they were right – you had seen how happy and peaceful the townspeople always were, something that was only possible if they were in good hands. You could see for yourself what a wonderful man the king seemed to be and how everyone truly seemed to love and cherish him.

But a part of you didn’t want to believe that. You had to find a reason, something had to be wrong, you needed to justify why killing him was important. That was the only way to find out who you are.  

And as though the universe which had been so helpful so far decided now was the time to create chaos, the trumpet echoes through the hall again, announcing the arrival of the crown prince. When you see the person standing at the top of the stairs, you instant freeze, feeling your guts twist the way they did the first time you ever saw him – Seungcheol.  

Seungcheol was a prince. He was the crown prince of this land which meant he was the first born of the king.

That meant...... your mission was to kill the father of the man you loved.

As the townspeople gathered in the gardens below, you stood in a balcony of the castle, looking at the stars dancing in the sky.  

The whole night you had been feeling nothing but numb. The moment Seungcheol had appeared you excused yourself from the king, rushing out of the hall, trying not to throw up. Seungcheol immediately followed asking if you were okay but you didn’t answer. You did not see things unfolding this way. Not only did you not find a single reason why you had to kill the King, now you had one for why you shouldn’t do it.  

Seungcheol asked again, looking for answers in your expression but you just looked away, muttering that you had no idea he was the prince. He said he wasn’t trying to hide it from you, he just didn’t think about it. The whole town knew he was the crown prince so he never had to introduce himself that way. Besides, he didn't like to his status as royalty to define him so he didn’t usually mention it to anyone. As far as why he didn’t live in the castle was concerned, he started living in the cottage when he was 14 years old. That house was his mother’s, before the king and her fell in love and got married. After she passed away in the childbirth of her second child, he moved there so he could feel closer to her. His father too thought it was good for him to live among his subjects, to learn their problems and to gain their trust.  

You had nothing but silence to offer in return. It was all too much, all at once.  

The loud whispers of the town started fading out as the King walked in, standing among them. Seungcheol didn’t look too happy as he stared at the scene below him. He said he was worried about his father. You felt that churning feeling in your stomach once again. He said that he was getting old and it was getting harder for him to negotiate with neighbouring kingdoms, to keep war at bay. You didn’t understand what he meant.

He claimed the town was happy now but 3 months ago, nothing was going well. Their kingdom was under attack, everyone’s lives were threatened, the future looked very bleak. The king had somehow managed to save everyone then but unknown to the people, it was temporary. His father tried his best to negotiate and talk to the neighbouring kingdoms but there was no use – war has been declared against them yet again and he was worried King Choi was not strong enough for battle.

You held his hand stroking the back of it softly. He then apologised to you, confusing you even more. You asked him why but you had an idea already – he was taking his father’s place in war; he was going to lead the army.  

You felt as though someone pulled the ground below your feet and Seungcheol’s grip on your hand was the only thing saving you from falling. As crown prince it was his duty and you knew and understood but the thought of being away from him again was killing you on the inside. He said he wouldn’t be gone for long but you know what war meant - there was no guarantee of him even returning.

You hugged him shaking your head, refusing to let him go or insisting that he take you along with him but he simply hugged you back claiming that was not possible, it was dangerous. He told you to move to the castle while he was gone. Here you would be taken care of, you wouldn’t be lonely and most importantly, you would have the chance to get closer to his father.

You froze.  

Seungcheol let you go, making you sit on the moss-covered stone bench, sitting next to you. He said he wanted to leave you in good hands in case he didn’t make it back. You refused to listen to anything else, he promised he would always come back to you, that meant he had to come back. He laughed at your futile stubbornness, tucking your hair behind your ear, looking at you with a strange longing. You give him a soft peck on his lips to let him know he had no reason to long for you, you were always his. He pulled you in for more, taking your face in his hands, his mouth desperate against yours, like it was the last time, like a silent goodbye etched in his kiss.

It was only when the applause rang downstairs that he let you go, pressing his forehead on yours, sighing. You felt tears threaten your eyes once again as he caressed your cheek with his thumb softly, like he was trying to memorise how your face felt under his touch. He said he wished he had longer with you, he wished had done this earlier and slid onto the gravel floor onto his knees, looking up at you softly.  

Marry me, he whispered, holding your hands. 

You stared at him wordlessly as the sky behind you came alive with lights, fireworks prettily burning against the black canvas of the night. Maybe a few days ago if he asked you would have said yes without him even needing to finish. You would marry him right there and then but now you were torn. Kill the King. The words were constantly ringing in your head. How could you marry him if your mission was to…..  

He understood your silence as hesitance, saying you didn’t have to answer now, you could tell him when he returned - that way he would have something he had to come back for. He then pulled out a small necklace from his pocket, making you wear it, saying it was a reminder of him while he was away. You touched the pendant, feeling it with your fingers. It wasn’t like any jewel you had ever seen - it didn’t shine, it was an odd shape and it looked rather dull. He said it was a shell and it was from the sea.  

If he noticed your shocked reaction and stuttering as you asked him how he got it , he didn’t mention it. Instead, he answered that there was a path from behind his cottage that led to the other side of the forest, to a sea cave where land and sea met fearlessly. Before you came into his life, that was his favourite place to go - he often spent his free time there and that’s where he found this.  

You wonder if it’s a sign from the universe, receiving a part of the ocean at a time when you didn’t know what to choose.  

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The next morning, trumpets rang through the entire town, announcing that the neighbouring kingdom had declared war and the crown prince was leading the army to fight. People spilled onto the streets to watch the armoured and determined cavalry going to serve their kingdom, Seungcheol leading the troop all the way in front on his horse. You stood at the highest terrace of the castle, watching him leave, going further and further away, until the distance engulfed him and you couldn’t see him anymore. You barely had him to yourself for five minutes in the morning to say goodbye before he was called away. You convinced yourself that all this was temporary anyways, he would come back.  

With a heavy heart, you walked down the wide corridors of the palace, kkuma following your every step. You lived here now. Seungcheol had people shift your few things from the cottage to his room in the castle. Though the bed was beyond comfortable and the room was bigger than the whole cottage you lived in previously, you didn’t spend much time in there. Instead, you roamed around the gardens and corridors or stepped out into the marketplace that you never ventured in without Seungcheol by your side. Any place was better than his room. It reeked of loneliness and most importantly, it overlooked the sea. As much as the breeze gave you unexplainable comfort, it was also a constant reminder of your mission.  

As time passed, you found yourself less and less inclined to fulfilling your task. You tried your best to not let yourself be swayed but in vain – you could not help but like the king. He was nothing but welcoming and kind to you. Maybe Seungcheol told him or maybe it was just a constant in the Choi family, but he insisted that every night you join him for dinner. He would ask about your day and make light conversation, but unlike Seungcheol, he would retire early to bed. He was sick. You could see in the way he coughed through his meal, the way his eyes keep fluttering shut in tiredness towards the end of the night. Yet he did all he could to make sure you were alright.

He introduced you to the library in the castle and if you thought Seungcheol’s study had a large collection of books, this place was massive. Books were lined all the way up till the ceiling, there were all sorts of maps and globes scattered all over the room, shelfs lined with little trinkets and souvenirs from his travels. The King explained that Seungcheol like his mother, loved to explore and like him, loved science and this library was where it all came together. He used to be unstoppable ever since he was a child and his curiosity always landed him in trouble – the whole town was banned from stepping on the beach but nothing could stop him. He always wanted to explore the sea.  

It surprised you to learn about Seungcheol’s fascination with the sea because he had always told you to stay away from water, that it was dangerous. You spent days of your time in that library, going through his journals and drawings, but didn’t really understand all the scribbles of notes he had jotted everywhere. You did see on the map though, the location of the sea cave that Seungcheol had mentioned about, wondering if you could get any answers there, but somehow you could never bring yourself to go. The answers of the questions you had so far had not been pleasant.  

Then one day as you sat on the wooden floor of the sunlit room studying what looked like drawings of some strange contraption, Hannie appeared in the sky.  

You immediately got up, running out of the room, down the corridor, up the stairs, all the way to the top, to try and see Seungcheol reappear where you last saw him.

He didn’t.

Clouds made their way, covering the strong sun, submerging the town in a strange gloom. It all felt too apocalyptic. You rushed to find the King, learning that he was holding court, making your way to the hall, stopping right by the door and hiding yourself to overhear the discussion.

The Chois were ambushed.

More than half the forces were dead or injured, many were missing and as though your greatest fear came true, Seungcheol was missing too. He was also very badly injured and no one had seen or heard from him in two days, it was highly likely he succumbed to his injuries. You refused to believe it. He said he would come back to you, which meant he would, you believed him. But no one else seemed to share the same faith as you. They were going to give up, surrender the throne to prevent an attack on the town itself. That was when to everyone’s surprise you barged in.

You insisted nothing was wrong with Seungcheol and they had to find him and finish this war. They tried to reason with you, tell you the facts but you refused to hear it. You questioned how they could give up so soon and why they aren’t even trying to find him. They claimed they had to clear out from enemy territory, that it could be dangerous going back there. You turned to the King hoping you could at least reason with him but his tired old face looks like he’s already mourning his son.  You ran out of there, unable to come to terms with what was happening.

You would find him yourself if that’s what it took.

Rushing to the royal stables, you picked the horse that looked the strongest and forced its gates open, ignoring the crimson bleeding out of your hand as you cut it on the metal. Before the poor stable boy could stop you, you mounted it, riding out of the palace, into the unprepared town. People hurriedly ran out of the way, pulling their carts and children to the side, nothing but wind left behind as you raced through. You had your eyes on Hannie flying in the sky above you. You knew it could lead you to him, you just had to follow. You were almost successful in crossing the gates of the town, into the woods, when the royal guards caught up, surrounding you.

The head of security begged you to stop, that you were putting the kingdom in more jeopardy and you couldn’t let your desire to protect one man affect everyone. You wanted to argue, tell him that you didn’t care about anyone else and to insist that they let you go but when you turned and saw all the people stepping out of their houses to see what the commotion is, you let go the reins of the horse. Yes, finding Seungcheol was most important to you, but not at the cost of so many people’s lives. You knew better than that, you could never be that selfish.

As though Hannie sympathised, it landed on your softly shoulder, nuzzling your neck, cooing in your ear. You took him in your hands, the bloodied hand further darkening the red on its chest, a thought forming in your mind. You smudge the blood onto your fingertips, tracing a word onto its white, a word that you knew would bring Seungcheol back to you. As you set it free hoping it would find him, you watch the yes etched on it, praying to the skies that when it returns, Seungcheol follows it like always.  

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You didn’t return to the castle after that.  

Turning your horse in the other direction, you rode to Seungcheol’s cottage by the woods, the only place you felt close to him. The big room and big bed of the castle might be physically comfortable but nothing made you feel at peace like this house, your safe haven. You were curled up in the bed for hours now as the sun slowly began to descend behind the mountains. You just had to give it time. You kept telling yourself it wasn’t a matter of if Seungcheol returned but when. He would come back for you, he would fight all odds and come back, you knew it.  

The sound of the horses neighing at a distance made you sit up. The royal guards must be here to escort you back to the castle now that it was getting darker outside. You didn’t want to go. You couldn’t stand being in that castle again.

Grabbing the oil lantern nearby, you soundlessly left through the back door, kkuma following you just as quietly. You thought you could just wait it out until the guards didn’t find you and returned to the castle but when kkuma began wandering away, you had no choice but to follow her. Not listening to your hushed whispers, with a mind of her own, she ventured into the forest and thoughtlessly, you followed. It’s only when the trees parted that you realised where you were – the sea cave.  

You didn’t know what you were expecting when Seungcheol mentioned about this place but it was beyond beautiful. The crystal blue waves were racing back and forth on the golden sand, the stone wall of the caves were gradients of brown rocks and green weeds. There were holes eroded onto the roof, the evening sun softly pouring in and in that soft light you noticed in the corner, folded are some blankets and books that clearly belonged to Seungcheol – he indeed must have spent a long time here. Kkuma settled herself down in the warmth of the bundled cloths, as you placed the lantern on a nearby rock and kicked your shoes off, feeling the warm sand under your feet.  

The water was inches away. The Ocean, the place that, if you had assumed right, was your home. Every bone in your body was craving to be in it, to submerge in it, to just feel alive in it once again. You walked ahead, taking one step after another, but the closer you moved to the waters, the further it seemed to be moving away from you. You quickened your steps, but the Sea kept retreating, pulling away. It surprised you to receive such hostility from waters that always looked so welcoming but not more than the voice that boomed through the cave, making you look around in panic. There was no one, you were all alone and kkuma too was fast asleep, like she didn’t hear anything. When you turned back to the sea, you bit back a scream, coming face to face with a woman, whose eyes were piercing into you, her lips curled into a smile as her voice echoed through the cave again. 

I see you’ve finally found your way home.  

Pain like no other seared through your head, making you fall to your knees in agony, your dress fanning out in the sand. As the woman bent down to your level, you scrambled back, swallowing the phantom lump in your throat, taking a better look at her. Holding a staff in one hand, she looked as old as time, her white hair and ragged clothes floating like she was still in the waters and that’s when you realised, she wasn’t actually here – it was apparition, like… magic. As though she read your mind, she confirmed it indeed was magic, that she controlled all the magic of the Sea - she was after all the Sea Witch.  

You recalled Seungcheol’s story about how the Sea had taken away magic from the Land, watching the legend come to life before you as the woman floated a few feet above the ground, looking at you expressionlessly. Who am I? Do I belong to the Sea? Why am I on Land?  You knew she was the only one who could possibly have the answers and she did - for a price.  

She pointed at the shell on your neck, claiming it belonged to the Sea – give it back and you could have all the answers you wanted. You held it in your grasp; it was the only thing of Seungcheol’s you had with you. You could either lose it and learn who you are or keep it and walk away, return to the castle. You could let your forgotten past remain forgotten and think only about the future with Seungcheol.  

But is there a future? She asked, reading your mind yet again. You knew what she meant. Seungcheol went to war and people died in war all the time. If he did not make it back, you had no place on Land, no home, no one to call your own. But if you were to find out who you truly are, you could then return to where you truly belonged. You tightened your grip on the shell, the pressure opening your wound, the blood spilling again. Giving up this necklace meant admitting to the possibility that Seungcheol will not return. How did that make you any different from all the others in the court who you lashed out at? 

The Sea Witch looked at you fighting your own battle in your head. She held out her hand saying if it was meant to be, then Seungcheol would return to you, regardless of whether you had this necklace or not. You know she’s playing you but give in, ripping the chain from your throat and throwing it into the waters, watching it sink into the dark bottom.  

The waves which seemed so afraid of you, raised themselves, almost as though bowing to you and the Sea Witch mirrored their action before straightening and looking up but this time, respectfully not meeting your eye.  

What do you seek, Princess of the Ocean.  

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You held the dagger in your hand tight, hands not shaking as you approached the dining room.  

The moment you returned to the castle, the maids had told you dinner was served and the king was waiting for you. You washed up and changed out of your sand filled clothes into one of your usual red dresses. Maybe there was a reason why you liked red so much – maybe deep down you knew you needed to hide the blood on your hands somewhere.  

You had to kill the King tonight.  

You stood in front of the large doors, the dagger that the Sea Witch gave in your hands, hiding efficiently in the large fabric of your dress. Once you stepped in, everything would change. You would become the killer of Seungcheol’s father, but you would also finally be fulfilling your duty to your people, the MerFolk.  

The Sea Witch told you the story from when it all began. The legends were all true. The merfolk were real, the life under the sea was real, everything you had experienced was real. 3 months ago, you were a part of the Sea, living a carefree life as the youngest princess of the royal family. Then one move by King Choi and everything changed.  

Over the centuries even though the entire ocean was ruled by just one family, without the power of magic, land had split into many Kingdoms and many rulers. Unlike the peace in the Sea, Land was always at war with itself, neighbouring kingdoms attacking and occupying towns – they never got rid of the battle they thought they won. One such battle happened three months ago at the Kingdom of the Chois where they were invaded by their neighbours, the Hans. At the brink of losing war, King Choi did the unthinkable – he set sail.

His deep interest in the Sea, that his son eventually inherited, had led him to spend years of his youth designing and building ships, the last of which had been burned during the Pact. The Sea allowed his soldiers to take an alternative route to attack their invaders and drive them out but the moment the ships had touched the ocean waters, years of peace dissolved into chaos.  

As the calm waters were shaken, towns under the Sea began falling apart – many merfolk died, many lost their homes, many lost their way back and among all the tragedies, the greatest one was losing your mother, the Queen.  

Her death left the entire Ocean without a leader, without a protector. Your sister, the oldest in the family, who had been trained for years to take over as queen was missing, like many others in the aftermath. The kingdom waited for days for her to show up until it was not practical to anymore – the ocean needed rebuilding, it needed leadership and guidance. As the only one left in the royal family, you had offered to take your mother’s place as queen but the Council of the Sea refused. You were young and inexperienced and unlike your sister, you were not trained to take over the Kingdom. They wanted to hand the Sea to the Hwangs, another family who had their eye on the throne for centuries now and were willing to take up the responsibility of the Ocean.  

You couldn’t let that happen, not only would it crush your mother’s dreams if the Kang lineage of rulers ended with her but also the Hwangs were notoriously famous for their aggressiveness. Under their hands, there was no saying what the future of the Ocean would look like. The citizens of the sea protested too – they were all on your side, they wanted you to rule and so the Council of the Sea and the Hwangs agreed – if you could prove yourself worthy.  

Kill the King of the Land.  

Blood for blood. Get revenge for the destruction of the Sea, that was the order. That was the price for you to get back your kingdom and 100 days was all you had to do it.

That’s when they called on the Sea Witch. Breathing on Land for 100 days would require very powerful and ancient magic, something only she was capable of. But it would not be so straightforward. The process would be excruciatingly painful, almost like becoming a new person, like being born again - quite literally because it would wipe out all your memories, everything you know of the Sea would be taken away. You would be sent to Land like a blank slate.  

That meant you had 100 days to go on Land, figure out who you were, learn of your mission and complete it. Should you fail, not only would you lose your kingdom, but the waters had no forgiveness for those who disobeyed magic so ancient – you would join them again, but as sea foam.  

Today was day 92. You only had 8 days left.  

You pushed open the doors of the dining hall, eyes falling on the King tiredly slouched in his chair waiting for you. He must’ve fallen asleep because he didn’t move when you approached. You looked at face responsible for the death of your mother, the disappearance of your sister, the destruction of your kingdom and you felt numb. You still couldn’t bring yourself to hate him, but you also couldn’t walk away. Yes, if only he didn’t bring out his ships you wouldn’t have lost so much, you wouldn’t be here but you know like any other good king, he did it to save his people. And now you had to do whatever it took to save yours.  

And then fate smirked.

Just as you raised the knife and were about to plunge it in his chest, you heard the fluttering sound of wings and on the balcony landed Hannie, looking more red than white. The knife slipped from your hands, landing on the floor with a thud as the king stirred awake. His guards burst into the room as the royal trumpets echoed through the night. You rushed to Hannie in the balcony, the one that overlooked the town, and saw the oil lanterns of the houses, slowly increase in number, getting brighter and brighter in the darkness. The king and his men departed immediately and so you followed them, holding Hannie in one hand and your dress in the other, running down the palace corridors and out the gate to see a crowd gathered.  

As it parted, it revealed Seungcheol's horse and holding onto its reins walking it was Seungcheol, bruised and battered, blood splattered all over him, multiple wounds gashed open, barely but still alive. Take a staggering step at a time, he approached his father bowing and whispered, We won before collapsing into the gravel.  

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Seungcheol was immediately taken away by the royal physicians as the king announced to the people that the war was over and the town erupted into cheers. You tried to follow the doctors to be with him but they closed the door on your face, asking you to stay out. So, you stayed right outside, the whole night, prancing about, biting your nails, as you waited for the news.  

Instead, you were met with screams. You don’t know what they were doing to Seungcheol in there but he was evidentially in unbearable pain – you could hear in the way the screams ripped out of his throat, like he was in pure agony. It went on for hours and it was so terrifying to hear, you felt your heart shatter every time it rang through the halls. 

Finally at the crack of dawn he seemed to calm down and the doors finally opened. He was deeply wounded and his body was beyond exhausted, he just needed some sleep, the physicians assured you and the king, who unknown to you had also arrived. You thanked them and hurried in to see Seungcheol peacefully lying on the bed, bandages wrapped all over his body.

You sat beside him as the king gently stroked his son’s hair both proudly and sadly, muttering that he would pray for him to heal soon. As you held Seungcheol’s hand in yours, the king requested you to stay by the former’s side till he woke up. You assured him you would, to which he nodded and to both your shock and horror, pulled out the dagger which you had dropped in the dining room the day before. You held your breath as he placed it on the table beside the bed, not even looking at you. I believe this is yours.  

He knew.  

He figured out that you had attempted to take his life, but the tired old man didn’t say anything as he left. Instead, the royal guards placed at the door told you what you needed to know.

You failed your mission. Not only had you let down your people, you were discovered and now you were to be tried for treason. You only had till Seungcheol woke up. Lips quivering, you held onto his hand tighter. 

You didn’t know if fate was showing you mercy or prolonging your agony but it took almost 2 whole days for Seungcheol to finally wake up.   

You hadn’t left his room since you had entered it. Not only were you not allowed to, but you didn’t want to leave Seungcheol’s side. You either sat beside him, or in the balcony overlooking the ocean for hours together with kkuma curled up next to you and hannie flying around in the sky. The two of them had been awfully calm, as though they too knew what was coming.

Finally, on the 94th��night, just as you had closed the doors of his bedroom and prepared your bed to sleep, Seungcheol stirred awake. You immediately rushed to his side as his eyes fluttered open, and the moment they landed on you, he broke into the most peaceful smile. You sighed in relief, softly holding his cheek in your hand, asking him how he was feeling.  

You said yes.  

Hannie flew into the room like a reminder of your message to him but his words only pained you. Things had changed so much since then. Not only could you not marry him but you had now become worthy of his hatred. You don’t think you can bear to see anything but love for you in his eyes.

Leaning down you kissed him, whispering that you loved him and that you wish no matter what, he always remembered that. He didn’t seem to understand your words, still reeling in the happiness of your acceptance of his proposal as he pulled you into his arms, wrapping you in the embrace you were craving for.  

As the two of you laid for hours together, wrapped in each other, he told you how they had been ambushed before they even reached the battlefield - someone had betrayed them. His horse had saved him, taking him away into the woods, far from his attackers but he was already very badly injured. It was Hannie who arrived with your yes that truly saved him. He knew he had to come back for you so he pushed through. He regrouped what was left of the army and infiltrated the enemy camp that was prematurely celebrating their victory and gained the upper hand.  

You snuggled closer in his warmth, hoping he wouldn’t see the guilt on your face when he spoke of you like you were his saviour. Everything would change tomorrow. Tonight was your last night with him, your last chance to create a memory for him to remember you by. As he went on about how tomorrow morning he would talk to the king about the wedding, you kissed him, cutting him off. Tonight you only wanted to love and love you did.  

Of all the nights you spent with Seungcheol, nothing felt like this. There was a strange desperation carved in the way you undressed each other, hands roaming, names whispered against skin. You took the lead this time, clambering on top of him and he stared at you like you were his whole world and more. Tucking your hair behind your ear, he told you how lucky he was to have you and you pushed the recurring feeling of guilt down and claimed him for yourself one last time.

A clash of hands, tongues and moans, he matched your need, leaving marks of love on your shoulder and chest. Burying your face in his neck, you held back the tears of pain and pleasure and a goodbye all dissolved in one as you came apart above him. Like always his arms held you in his embrace as though stopping you from losing yourself but it was too late. Everything had fallen apart already.  

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When you woke up, the bed was empty.  

Seungcheol was not in the room, neither were the maids scurrying in as usual, cleaning up and neither were the guards who were placed outside the doors all these days. You walked down the corridors which were overtaken by a strange emptiness, wondering where everyone was. It was late in the afternoon judging by the sun but the palace was looking bleaker than usual.  

That was when your eyes fell on the flag of the kingdom hoisted down, flying low.  

Mourning.  

You rushed back towards the bedroom wing of the palace, heart beating erratically against your still lungs, till you found the royal physicians walking out of a chamber, looking dejected. The kings chamber.  

As you got closer, you noticed the officials of the royal court had all gathered around, dressed in black, heads hanging, faces in sorrow. They parted, letting you walk in to see Seungcheol standing at the edge of the bed, looking down at the king who laid peacefully in a slumber he would never wake up from.

The moment you put your hand on his shoulder Seungcheol turned. He wasn’t crying but there was so much pain in his face, it made you want to take him in your arms and hide him there forever. But you didn’t. You rubbed his arms softly whispering that you will wait for him outside, knowing he needed time with his father, the last of his family.  

But the moment you stepped out, the royal guards surrounded you, their spears pointing at you from a distance and you knew the time had come. By the order of the late king, after Prince Choi was awake, you were to be imprisoned for treason. For life.  

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You might have been forced into a four stone walled dark cell for 5 days now but there was no greater prison that your own mind. As the moonlight creeped through the metal bars of the window on top, you sat crouched in the little dark space, leaning against the cold rocks. It was always so silent in here, you only ever heard the crashing of the waves against the walls, each ebb and flow reminding you of where you truly belonged.  

With the king now dead, your mission was complete, you could go back home. You could go back to your people, you could take back your kingdom but somehow you lacked the strength or the will to fight your way out of here. It would mean facing Seungcheol, who in the last many days had not come even once to see you. With each passing minute in his absence a part of you was glad to not see the disgust he would hold for you but another was broken at the thought of this being the end of the love you shared. As you fought your inner battle as a lover and a princess, time, the one thing that you did not have, kept slipping away.  

And then for the first time in 5 days, a shadow other than your own was cast in the moonlight. Seungcheol’s.  

You stood up, taken aback by his presence after so long but more by the sound of the gates opening and the guards asking you to step out, leading you out of the prison cell. You were free.  

It was only then in the light of the fire lit corridors that you saw him, dressed in finery like never before and on his head rested the whole responsibility of the kingdom - the crown. 

It was no longer Prince Seungcheol, he was now King Choi Seungcheol.  

Seeing him like that, your heart swelled with pride. When you found out Seungcheol was the prince you weren’t really as surprised as you should have been because it was only then that things made perfect sense. You had seen the king in him all along. One of the reasons that you loved him so much was because of what a good man he was, always thoughtful of others, always helping those in need, always looking out. No one was more worthy of being king than him.   

But before you can say anything to him, the maids brought you away to his room, complaining that you needed a change of clothes and a good bath. As they helped you strip out and scrubbed your neglected skin, they talked about how Seungcheol was furious when he learnt of your imprisonment. He insisted that you be released at once but he could not do anything as the royal guards would only take orders from the king. Stubborn to get you released no matter what, he sped up the coronation, which was due two weeks later and was crowned king just hours ago. His first order as ruler was that you be immediately released.  

You asked to be left alone for a bit, soaking yourself in the water after days now. Why did Seungcheol let you go? Did he not believe you tried to kill his father? Or did he love you so much that he was willing to forgive you for the attempt?

You couldn’t even ask him. He would not be free of the coronation festivities which apparently went on till sunrise and you didn’t have long before you had to return to the ocean – it was already day 99.  

Maybe it was better this way. You had your duties like he had his. Maybe if you left without giving him an explanation and without getting one, it would be easier for the love between the two of you to die. It had to die. The two of you belonged to two different worlds. There was no a happily ever after written for this story.   

You slid against the bath, submerging yourself into the waters, trying to breathe in peace again.  

But the nightmare had not ended. The voices were not gone.  

Kill the King.  

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When you walked out of the bathroom, Seungcheol was there.  

He was sitting on the edge of the bed, dressed in his usual simple clothes again. In fact, he was wearing the same white shirt as the first time you ever saw him. The irony was not lost on you. It was like fate was not tired of the joke after joke after joke it was playing. 

You walked in, asking him what he was doing away from the celebrations when you noticed what was in his hands. The dagger. Your dagger.  

It's been a while since I told you a story.  

He looked up, meeting your eye in the mirror, his finger dangerously dragging against the blade.  

Do you remember the legend of the sea?  

Why was the talking about this to you right now?  

There's more, he claimed, standing up, turning to you. In that blue sea of dangerous creatures and vicious beings also lived the most beautiful woman in the world.  

You can hear your heart thumping in your ear.  

One day, the woman of the waters found herself on land. She was sent with a mission.

You took a step back. How could he possibly know all this?

You may have forgotten everything Y/n. But I didn't. He walked up to you. You may remember only 3 months of our love, but I remember 10 years of it.

You didn't understand. You didn't understand at all.

The young woman had been interested in the Land and humans ever since she was a little girl. Even though the merfolk were clearly warned to stay away from humans and shallow waters were dangerous to swim in, she would always escape the barricades quietly, to see whatever little of Land she would.

Finally, when she was 14 years old, she discovered a little secret - a sea cave. It was the only place where the waters next to land were deep enough, where she could get close to the land without being in much danger. She would come there often just to look at the sand and the rocks but she never saw any humans.

Until one day, a young, 14 year old Prince, distraught at the loss of his mother had ventured into the forest all alone and found the cave.  

You remember Seungcheol telling you he moved to the cottage after the death of his mother when he was 14.

The price was also just as interested in the Sea as she was in land but unlike her, he did the stupid thing of entering the waters - he immediately started drowning.

That was the day she saved him the first time. Holding her breath to the point she couldn't anymore, she pulled him onto the sand before disappearing into the ocean. The last thing he remembered was seeing her most beautiful face.

After that the prince came everyday. Initially the young girl never showed herself. He knew she was there though, deeper in the waters, lurking silently. He would come every morning and just sit in the sand doing his assignments, glancing at the sea every once in a while and when the sun would start to set, he would return. Slowly, much to his anticipation and delight, she started coming up closer and closer to the surface until one day when he was 16, Seungcheol for the first time, put his hand in the water and touched hers.

It was magical, like nothing he ever felt before.

Then he started to get reckless again, trying to enter the waters, almost drowning too, but this time she held his hand and taught him to swim. Of the many hours he spent in the cave, a few minutes were always in the water, swimming by her side, and the rest were just watching her glide through the waves.

When he was 18, he created something extraordinary. He had always been a bit of a science man but after years of trial and error, he had finally made a device - a little mask of sorts that could help him breathe underwater, for about an hour or so. He didn't have to hold his breath anymore - he was able to spend longer under the sea, longer with her.

When he went to show it to her, she had discovered a little secret of her own - weeds. Not any kind but a very particular one that only grew in the Sea witches house. She apparently used to work for one, to learn magic, like all her other siblings did. There she had come across these very special plants that allowed merfolk to breathe on land.

That was the first time she stepped on land. The moment she did, she succumbed to her knees, throwing up water in the sand. Even the weed had its downsides, the most important one being that its affect only seemed to last an hour or so. But the hour she had with him on land and he had with her in the waters were more than enough - Their worlds were no longer barriers.

That went on for years, these secret meetings. Initially it was just sharing laughs, then dreams, then the thought of a whole life together. He taught her how to read and write their language, she drew him maps of different lands, far away in the sea. He taught her about science and she taught him about magic. His stories about the land animals fascinated her and her stories about the sea creatures terrified him.

When he was 20, he kissed her for the first time. When they were 22, they made love and when they were 24, around a 100 days ago, she told him she had to come to land for a mission.

It felt like someone had knocked the air out of your lungs. How was any of this possible?

She didn't say what her mission was, just that she had something to do and she needed him to help her. She would apparently arrive on land with all her memories gone and she needed him to guide her to find her way back. He didn't understand but she didn't have the time to tell him more. She just handed him a shell necklace and told him to give it to her when the time was right, it would help her figure things out.

So did you figure it out Y/n? He took you hand, placing the knife laced with his blood in it. Was your mission to kill my father?

You shook your head slowly, still processing all the information.

"It was to kill you."

The moment you heard your voice again in that bath, you felt like your life just left you. You thought the mission was completed - the king was dead. Then why were you still hearing it.... except you didn't complete the mission. You didn't kill the king, you didn't use the dagger.

Now the king was right in front of you. The man you just  discovered you had been in love with your whole life. The man who made you fall in love with him all over again. The man who you had to kill to stay alive.

But he didn't look even a little fazed.

The sky behind you was starting to get brighter. The sun was rising. The 100th day was nearly here.

"Its okay." He whispered, moving closer to you without an ounce of fear. "Do it."

How could he love you so much, enough to die for you?

You could feel the tears rolling down your cheeks. He gently wiped it away, shaking his head. You kissed the inside of his hand on your cheek, and then pulled him close, feeling his mouth against yours for what you knew was the last time.

As you whispered an apology, he assured you it was okay. That you were the most beautiful thing that ever happened to him. And there was no better way for him to go than you being the last thing he saw.

You took a step back.

"Till death do us apart."

And then another step.

"Till death do us apart."

And then another, till you reached the window overlooking the ocean, you back against it.

You smiled at him.

He was not the only one who loved you enough to die.

The sun had risen quite high by now. You were simply a silhouette against the light, an outline and soon a memory. Before Seungcheol could even realise what you were doing, you leaned back. He ran towards you, as you let yourself drop, only just missing his outstretched hand trying to pointlessly save you, taken away by the winds, taken away to the sea.

As the sun fully rose in the sky, the dagger in you hands landed in the ocean with a splash, sinking to the bottom slowly, disappearing from existence.

And around it was sea foam, finally reclaimed by the waters where it belonged, gently floating away in peace.