#Every time I catch a little break I'm dying to escape || Aaravi x Miranda ( biteyourcrush )

[royalreef]

I'd live life without my legs to make sure yours stopped hurting I'd give up my will to live to make sure yours is burning I'd stop loving, caring, trying if you'd never wake up crying

I wanna hold you til' it feels like it's been long enough to stop saying I miss you, stop saying I miss you I wanna kiss you til' you know without me telling you that I will never leave you, I will never leave you

[royalreef]

@biteyourcrush @spkyscry

[royalreef]

It's her and Aaravi's anniversary today, and it seems someone is feeling the mood. She might not feel much like getting outside, no, but she is in a pleasant mood, and has gotten chocolates and flowers together, and has tried to get Aaravi something that she might appreciate. Here's to three years together, and hopefully plenty more.

[royalreef]

@biteyourcrush​ replied to your post:

Love wins~ 

      LOVE WINS!!!! And the wall that she has burst through, kool-aid style, to kiss her wife, her ul’kiha, her most beloved, loses.

[royalreef]

        At the blink of an eye, her serfs have constructed an egregiously large throne, all shiny gold sides and jewels larger than a person’s body. Legitimately, it happened in the blink of an eye. Once there was nothing there, just empty space and grass, covered with fallen leaves the color of sunset, and now there’s a towering seat of decadence sat in its place. There are steps, more like ladder rungs than a proper staircase, all mother of pearl and shimmering in the low light of autumn, made for merfolk hands and feet to grasp. Steps which disappear after Miranda bolts up them, sliding back into the monstrosity of wealth and glamor.

       At the top, she settles comfortably into a velvet seat, made to elevate her even further above the heads of everyone below. She sits there, in clear view, outline of her body made all the more stark against the clouds, against the grey-blue sky the same color as a coelacanth’s underbelly. No one else to outshadow her, no way to miss her, no way to not hear her.

       It’s the perfect position to make her voice echo. A voice which barely needs it, already naturally made to carry for miles, and a voice that is fully capable of breaking eardrums if she so wanted to. A voice which is being made all the louder and all the worse, by what is fundamentally a modified megaphone that is being held up to her mouth.

       There is only a moment of horror and silence before it comes, letting Miranda lift up her hand to her chest in the typical manner, her favored gesture.

       And then she speaks, loud enough to rattle the heavens themselves, to crack open the earth, to make birds flee into the skies and the scurrying things into their burrows, and to create soundwaves that turn anatomy into a gross mockery of itself.

@spkyscry @biteyourcrush @chaosmultiverse @foulflames @omnifobia @comfeemoth @fullcfphobias @daeamour

         “I WAS THE ONE WHO AARAVI LOST HER VIRGINITY TO! SHE HAS TAKEN THE FULL FISH DICK AND I HAVE FELT HER AROUND ME AND KISSED HER SO SWEETLY IN THE NIGHT! WE HAVE FUCKED IN HER TENT, AND IN HER BED, AND IN MY BED, AND UPON HER COUNTER, AND HER COUCH, AND WITHIN MY RV, AND UPON MY THRONE, AND UPON ALMOST EVERY PIECE OF FURNITURE WE OWN!

      IN OUR APARTMENT!! OUR BEDROOM!! IT IS OURS, BECAUSE WITH HER IS WHERE I BELONG AND WHERE I FEEL SAFE AND WHERE I FEEL LOVED!! AARAVI FEELS LIKE HOME TO ME! WHEREVER SHE IS, IS WHERE I BELONG!

       WE ARE UL’KIHA! SOULMATES! WE SHARE THE SAME BREATH, THE WATER THAT FLOWS THROUGH MY GILLS ARE THE SAME THAT FLOWS THROUGH HER LUNGS, AND WE ARE MATCHED AS ONE! NOT EVEN MY KINGDOM CAN SEPARATE ME FROM HER! NOTHING CAN!

       SHE IS MY WIFE! WE ARE MARRIED!!! I LOVE AARAVI WITH ALL OF MY HEART, AND I DREAM OF MY FUTURE TOGETHER WITH HER, A FUTURE WHICH WE SHALL FORGE TOGETHER! I HAVE PROMISED TO HER THAT I WOULD STAY WITH HER TO THE END, THROUGH THICK AND THROUGH THIN, THROUGH SICKNESS AND THROUGH HEALTH!!

      I LOVE THE PRETTIEST, MOST GORGEOUS, MOST TALENTED SLAYER THERE EVER WAS! THE BEST SLAYER THERE EVER WAS! SHE IS CLEVER AND SHE IS SMART AND SHE IS STRONG AND SHE IS CARING AND SHE IS LOYAL AND SHE IS PASSIONATE AND SHE IS DRIVEN AND SHE IS EVERYTHING I HAVE EVER ASPIRED TO BE! I LOVE ALL OF THE SIDES OF HER THAT SHE HAS SHOWN ME, EVERYTHING THAT SHE HAS TRUSTED ME WITH, AND I CAN ONLY WISH THAT I COULD BE A FRACTION OF AS MUCH TO HER AS SHE IS TO ME!

        AND YOU ARE ALL MERELY JEALOUS THAT YOU HAVE NEVER EVEN FUCKED HER LIKE A BUOY BEING TOSSED ABOUT IN A HURRICANE AS I HAVE!!!!!!!!!!!! LOSERS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

[royalreef]

@biteyourcrush​ replied to your post:

Lore Accurate Aaravi backflipping off a cliff, quick-deploying a cooking pot to toss bone broth ingredients into mid-fall, hot-swapping from adventuring gear to pajamas (enchanted with +++Warm Snugglability), then catching the cooking pot and completed broth mid-air, activating her paraglider and swooping *RIGHT* into bed with Miri.

      Fantastic!!! Wonderful!!!! S+ tier!!!!!!!! Five stars!!!! Platinum grade!!!!!! Miri would clap, but the instantly delighted trill and the wrap of her body will have to do in its place — mostly because Miri is busy holding onto the broth to make sure it doesn’t spill onto the sheets. She just washed them, she’s sure Aaravi knows, and getting the fitted sheet on once was already an ordeal and a half alone. Likewise because she would hate to ruin Aaravi’s nice bed and pillows, just on sheer principle alone. She is still technically cheering though, because there’s nothing else those happy sounds coming from Miri could be if not cheering, in their own way.

       For her rewards: her ul’kiha is snuggling into her side already, head tucked under her chin and arms wrapped around her side, scales subtly cool to the touch ; Miri slowly taking sips out of the bone broth, letting it warm her and getting her daily calcium, purring softly in praise of her beloved’s perfect cooking ; and the EXP bonus Aaravi naturally gets from her wife.

[royalreef]

@biteyourcrush​ replied to your post:

"Honestly? Maybe... that's a good thing for me. Maybe I could do with a little less slaying in my life- not like what I've been doing up to this point was helpful to anyone." 

Of course, there were things she *could* still absolutely slay the shit out of (invasive dungeon species, actual threats to the people she cared about, a few notable dads)- but the near omnicidal way of thinking she had gotten drilled into her before? Nah- no way she could go back to that.

      “Oh!!” Ah fuck, the timelines were crossing again. At least it’s helpfully sidestepped that her prior statement was a joke, prodding at some other Aaravi in some other place confined by some other rules, trying to derive rage for nothing other than Miranda’s enjoyment — though, the shift does give this Miranda some vertigo. That’s quite a feat, considering the lack of any innate sense of balance. She’ll deal with the versions-of-herself collision later, a much different topic has cropped up.

      ....... And, quite honestly? This is... not bad news, either. Miranda’s fins flit up to attention and stay that way, some flicker of blue light pulsing on Miranda’s face and staying there. Eyes catch on Aaravi, her Aaravi, her ul’kiha, beloved and dear, and stay there. It’s not upset. That’s clear, from the moment it begins, that she is not upset and that is not upset that is sitting on her face.

      She... She would not say she’s excited? That word doesn’t feel right, it implies something that does not sit correctly in Miranda’s stomach and which she cannot swallow. Not elated either, but... something else. Something other. A pleasant wash of something, something warm and tinted bright as it shines towards implication, towards suggestion, towards the future and all that lies within it. The name denies her, darts between her fingers as she reaches for it, fickle and fine and perhaps even nameless entirely. Maybe this is a feeling that cannot be passed from one to the other in language, maybe it is something that can only been seen and felt for yourself. Maybe it is something that she has to arrive at, rather than merely being led, some secret place hidden in the annuals of time and of life that only some can stumble across.

       She leans forward, nudges her head against Aaravi’s. Nuzzling into her feels right, the path strange and unfamiliar, but her gut tells her that she should touch Aaravi now, to hold her so that she can feel the touch of someone else’s body, to know that she is not alone and that Miranda is there, with her. That Miranda intends to stay with her, to let her in, to follow her outside and wherever she will go. That she can promise, in the touch of her hands at Aaravi’s side, pulling her close, that Miranda will not leave her where loneliness can get in.

       “I.... I think it could be a good thing. I think you’re right.” Miranda does not address the implication that sits there, that waits for them, though Aaravi can surely see it between Miranda’s words anyhow. The suggestion that Miranda too is offering something to this conversation. That there is something of her own that, she thinks, she could leave behind, and not go back to, something that was hers and had haunted her from the moment she came screaming into the world, marked in blood that wasn’t hers. Something too, that had felt its blades dull and its teeth rot and fall, something that Miranda less and less felt compelled to return to, that offered her no solace and no refuge, that no longer even had compulsion and anger and fear and retaliation to feed off of. 

       There are several words that end in -cide, after all, and one of them Miranda walked up onto the land holding hands with. If Aaravi could let go of one, then so too could Miranda let go of hers. 

      She had other hands to hold, and hands which needed to hug Aaravi close, and she could not be distracted from such an essential goal.

         “I would not mind that. Not at all. It... It might be a good thing for me as well.”

[royalreef]

(( Honestly, it doesn’t bother Miranda so much that her and Aaravi were not fated, that they wouldn’t find each other in every universe and love each other in the same way every time. In fact, it’s what she prefers and is happiest this way.

Miranda’s all too keenly aware that she was not promised anything that she has right now. She knows that the Merkingdom could have easily decided upon somewhere else to station her as a place of first introductions. She knows that she could have never come up onto land at all, that the Merkingdom could have easily decided to have someone else act as ambassador, or to keep their Crown Princess closer at home. They could have decided not to begin land-Merkingdom relationships at all within her lifetime, or trashed the idea before she was established on land, or even before they started properly at all. It could have just remained as an idea, never to be actually explored.

She could not exist. Miranda’s far too familiar with the fact that she was conceived for a purpose, that there was a clear intent behind her creation. Something, anything, could have happened that meant the King and Queen simply never decided to create her. She could have simply not been the one to make it, devoured in the womb before she was even born. Something could have happened in her early childhood to kill her, or any other time, either from a failure of her health or because she was disposed of.

She could have met someone else. She could have met anyone else. She could have been arranged. She could have decided that she would never be allowed this kind of personal wants and desires. She could have shut down. She could have never trusted the land to begin with.

From the moment that she was born, Miranda was told over and over that her life wasn’t her own. She was living for something else, someone else, that she had a purpose and a duty and she was made to perform it. If she failed to perform it, and to perform it well, she could be removed, destroyed. She was a tool, a means to an end, and for as much honing and care and dedication went into her, an expensive tool is still a tool, and still can be replaced if something goes wrong.

Her fate was already decided, already written. Taking it into her own hands was a mistake, something that she would have to be punished for, something that was to be discouraged. It would ruin everything. It would kill people, it would tarnish her kingdom, it would invite ruin into the responsibility that she was supposed to wield, and it would all be her fault. Every moment of every day she was told that the future was in her hands, the future of her entire kingdom and all of their people and culture and history and life, and any tiny mistake means that it would expand out and ruin and destroy and the only person to blame would be her. It doesn’t matter how flimsy the justification was, whether or not that would actually guide her choices or if it made up for the way her family treated her, it was a justification nonetheless. It was blame. It was power over her.

And she doesn’t want to just have that all over again. She doesn’t want to love someone because she was told to love them, told that it was always going to happen, that she was always going to have to love them. She doesn’t want to be told that her breaking out from the Merkingdom’s grasp was destined, because she knows this is a lie too. Miranda’s a testament to all the people she could have been, all the people she nearly was. Their ghosts are leveraged against her constantly. And she doesn’t want the universe to tell her and confirm to her that the Merkingdom was right, that they were always right, that this is good, actually, that it is something that she should want and aspire to and crave.

What Miranda wants is to be able to finally have the option to say no, to have a choice in the matter, to even just have the ability to consent at all. She cannot agree to something if the ability to reject it was never possible, and she wants to love Aaravi because she wants to love her. She wants to make that decision. She wants to love Aaravi not because of some indeterminate and eternal quality, but because she is Aaravi, because of all of the facets of her that exist and she can hold and know. She wants Aaravi to have earned her love, not merely stumbled into it, and she wants to earn Aaravi’s love in turn, to promise her things that she can give, to say that she will change and actually will. Miranda wants it to be real. She wants it to happen for a reason, she wants to say that, yes, every part of Aaravi is lovable and to be able to show her proof, she wants to be there for every step of the way.

There’s a reason why Miranda’s drawn specifically to prophecies about princesses falling into eternal slumber or that they will be poisoned to a death-like state, because a prince or a knight coming by and breaking the curse was not a part of that destiny. She already knows she’s doomed. She already knows the worst is written in the stars for her. What Miranda wants is a way for that to not be the end, for a stray element outside of it all to defy the stars. She wants to be saved from the castle, and for them to do it despite the thorns and the dragon, and she wants them to want her so much that nothing else can stand in their way, to defy death itself.

Fate has never once served Miranda, she’s always just served it. Fuck the crown, fuck the stars, she wants a boring life with the woman that she loves.

[royalreef]

@biteyourcrush​ replied to your post:

And you KNOW Aaravi's gonna pull out the ocarina and join in with her- she didn't travel to all those dungeons to learn the sacred songs of the seven sages to NOT put on a little duet with her wife!!!!!!!! 

       Duet! Duet!! Duet!!!!!!!!!!

      Already her head is tossed up and back, revealing the soft patch of skin at the very top of her throat, where her gills come together to nearly meet, and there’s a rumble in her chest and a call on her lips that could make the heavens weep. Duet! Duet!!!!!! The thought is exciting, enticing! Enough to make her start early, to sing from the very thought, animal and instrument and princess and the sea incarnate all at once, living and breathing into the sound that fills the space so completely that it doesn’t seem to be coming from her. Love without words, love without reason, love that exists only in the waves and the breath and so must be sung, never spoken, indescribable sounds that demonstrate the full extent of Miranda’s lungs, of the vocal organ inside her chest.

      There are reasons a pipe organ holds the same name as those within the body, composed of such similar structures, and all of those reasons are on such perfect display.

[royalreef]

@biteyourcrush​ replied to your post:

"I'd like to see THEM try and eat five cheese wheels and some wall chicken in under five seconds, don't act like just that wouldn't be impressive by itself!" -Aaravi, you are focusing on the wrong thing I think.

      “I have seen it!!! It truly is a thing of awe and terror in action — I believe you can even unhinge your jaw better than Vera can! And the speed!!! It is just a blur of hands and cheese shrapnel!” No, no, Aaravi’s clearly focusing on the right thing here, Miranda can back her up on it. This is clearly what was intended.

[royalreef]

        “I AM MIRANDA MISHRA!! MIRANDA VANDERBILT IS DEAD!! LONG LIVE MIRANDA MISHRA!! LONG LIVE US!!!! TO LOVE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

        Oh yeah, she’s still up there. She’s going to be boasting about her wife and how much she loves her wife and how her and her wife have the hottest, sloppiest sex, until eventually even her voice gets sore. That’s an accomplishment!

                                                    But it’s all worth it, all for Aaravi.

[royalreef]

@chaosmultiverse​ || Continued from here.

      The noise as he knocked the packages from the shelf made Miranda’s fins rise, shift, flutter as if they were caught in the wind. They weren’t still — not even as much as the three pairs would typically imply. Every part of them moved, from the fluff against her cheek that rose and fell like how a bird might fluff its feathers, or the broad surface of each fin, made of hundreds of long filaments that connected together but frayed at the ends.

      She didn’t seem alarmed by it, still grinning up at him, still with a full-body wiggle that wouldn’t let her stay still, but it was intriguing to watch. Everything made them shift, everything made them move, reacting to ten thousand different sounds that reached them, sounds that were so soft or so far outside of everyone else’s range of perception that they could not hear, but which Miranda was constantly taking in. It was a hyperawareness, a strange bodily difference in the same way someone might be instantly aware of all the things that were touching their body at once, without being overwhelmed by it.

      This was more quiet than the capital. More quiet even than the smaller towns she had visited. No one sang with voices low to carry true over miles, no one was having a conversation from across town, there was no open and constant dialogue like what she was used to.

      That was not as unusual as it had been, when she had first come onto land. She was aware that landfolk were both far quieter and more loud than she was used to, different in ways that either left open voids or new points to prick at all the most uncomfortable spots. But it was one thing to do as she had always done, even within the Merkingdom, to not interact with nor look at those laypeople, so far below her, distractions as to the real prize. It was another to exist within a population. Not set apart from them, but there, with them, in the same spaces and doing the same things.

       It was unbelievably, unspeakably, exciting. Miranda would have much to brag of to Aaravi, when she got back home.

      “I require milk? And eggs, and paper towels- but there are many different kinds, all packaged differently, and I do not know what the differences are? Oh! And there are some specific spreads I am looking for as well, but I do not know where they are. What is a cream cheese?”

      She lifted the list up again, tilting her head sideways as she glanced at it again. That made one fin flop to the side, while the other perked up higher — giving her a profile something like that of a confused puppy. Sweet, and big-eyed, and all soft at the edges. Something that made the heart ache, in a sweet kind of hurt that begged to be fed and to grow, instead of to fade away. Her tongue poked out of her mouth to complete the expression, two purple tips blepping with thought and intention.

      The entire motion made the few necklaces strung around, a few delicate golden chains interrupted with emeralds and a singular string of pearls, clink and sway against each other, shining in tandem with the same cold metal that made up her crown, the four pearls that did not look quite right.

      “I do also have to pick up salmon — but I’m going to do that afterwards, not here. If I have access to something better and something fresh, then I do not see why I cannot make an extra stop! I already know how to do that, it is just that this is perhaps my third time inside... somewhere like this? A supermarket? So I do not know how this... does.”

[royalreef]

       —and a VERY happy second anniversary to her and Aaravi!!!

                                   It might only be midnight, but she is CELEBRATING already!!!!

[royalreef]

       That reminds her, though — her and Aaravi’s second anniversary is coming up. She’ll have to arrange something nice for her, as well as see about the typical foods to be shared with their friends and loved ones, and start thinking about what gift to get her... Maybe they could go out someplace? Or stay in again? There are so many choices to be made, but they’re happy choices, and the planning comes with a thrill of its own.

      It’s nice, to worry about something so small and yet so meaningful. Something that’s hers, something that fills her with love and with want and with belonging, and something that she can share. This new normal is still settling in, still making a home of itself in her bones, but she wants it to. Out of all of the different options that have been laid out in front of her for what her future could look like, Miranda thinks she likes this one the best. Nothing would make her happier than doing this for the rest of her life, for laughter and celebrating with friends and kissing her wife until their lips are numb. What wonder, to live with Aaravi’s hands wound into her own.

[royalreef]

@biteyourcrush​ replied to your post:

"I mean, your taste is still good so nah, not really." Aaravi is bustling about because god damn if the subs are gonna be unionized then they're gonna be FED this Christmas, too! She does turn with a gremlin-like grin after a moment.

"Honestly, this just means I get to get in on bullying the gorgon too, yeah?"

Oh Vera... rest in peace. The slayer sees you as a *party member* now.

        “But of course my taste is good — I married you, did I not? And only those with the most exquisite, the very finest taste know how to appreciate you as you are!” It’s nice for Miranda to be able to join in, for the first time in all their Christmases together. It’s nice to feel like she’s not merely getting in the way but being able to help out, that she too can help provide dinner, that she can show her love in such a physical way, that all of this is not wholly Aaravi’s burden to bear. Sure, she still gets to set the table, fussing over silverware and napkins and the like, but the briefness doesn’t wholly satisfy.

       As does being able to continue teasing Vera, in the gentle ribbing kind of way that’s so common to Miranda. None of them would be in the union if they weren’t familiar with it, still taking favor as one of Miranda’s favorite go-to love languages.

        “Please! She has earned her stripes as ul’kiha, so that means she especially gets to be bullied by you. You know I could never deny you the honor, and she knows how to handle herself!”

[royalreef]

@biteyourcrush​ replied to your post:

BITING HER BACK BITING HER BACK BITING HER BACK BITING HER ON THE SNOOT- 

      BITING HER WIFE AND BITING HER WIFE AND BITING HER WIFE AND BITING HER WIFE AND BITI—

      —Oh! She stops then, blinking a few times. First, merely blinking her third eyelid, before blinking her actual eyelids proper, pupils rounding out and going soft. They almost seem to cross, just a little, as Miranda focuses so intensely on her snoot, on Aaravi, on her teeth as they fit against the plated scales there.

                 For a long while, she stares, fins standing up at attention, her breath held.

     And then it comes back, slow, heedy. The growl slides in slow, accompanying Miranda’s hands as they find Aaravi’s hips, as they slip beneath her shirt. Her body curls at once, reflexive. Back arching and tail curving in slow to sweep herself in closer to her ul’kiha, a flash of blue going up along her fins like dancing candlelight. The space between them diminishes, all gone within seconds, the air enveloped by that growl, the call of thunder before a storm. All electric, enough to make the hair stand up on the back of your neck, metallic taste that runs down the tongue and into the throat.

      Miranda twists her head to the side. It has to be slow, meticulous. This type of intimacy isn’t really made for the cheeks and shorter jaws of her wife, but they’ll make it work, find something. Miranda’s bottom jaw opens, free purchase for Aaravi’s own, if she can fit Miranda into her mouth. It’s just the perfect setup for Miranda’s teeth to press against that silk-soft expanse of skin under the jaw, right below where the tongue rests and between the two crests of mandibular bone. It’s delicate enough to feel all the serrations on every edge of those fangs, feel their points as they graze against tender flesh, as they bear down.

       Careful, careful now. It’s a dance. Bite each other, hold each other with tooth and with fang, and trust that the other won’t betray that. Hold each other’s breaths between their teeth, with no guarantee that the other will not kill them in an instant. All the while being able to do just the same, just as easily able to rend the other apart, rip their jaws open and tear their skull apart, and to decide not to.

       Or perhaps not. Miranda knows Aaravi isn’t a merfolk, and that her jaw is not the same as the same killing implement which has restructured their skull to match.

      But it feels the same. Miranda’s life still lies within Aaravi’s hands, Aaravi’s life lies within Miranda’s, and that’s the essence of it all. That’s the sweet thing that Miranda tastes, as her tongue flicks forward and runs along that vice-grip. It’s what has her claws flexing as she traces up and over Aaravi’s stomach, feeling the corded muscle there, touching and holding and feeling the curve of her hips, the curve that Miranda so likes, the curve that Aaravi has and she lacks, something to drive her wild.

      And it’s what Aaravi hears, as Miranda speaks her intent in her language-before-language, needy, primal, simmering hot as she presses herself close, curling up and around and between Aaravi’s legs.