#He has a deep respect for life and any living creature.

[velvetcake96]

Probably far away from “canon” but I see Clancy as a sensitive bad ass. Like yeah he’ll beat the shit out of someone, but he also names any animal that finds their way into the Bandito camp, uses the ashes from their fires to make sure their plants thrive, and will refuse to step on any plants because he loves all kinds of life. He’s cynical, he can handle himself in a fight, but he has a love for simple things and mellowed out for the most part.

Clancy is the most friend shaped of all the Tyler-sonas and I like to believe he’s a little softer because he seems like his own person from his letters.

[dark-moonlust]

Lust Beneath the Waves PART 2

Pairing: Kraken x f!mermaid reader

Summary: the ocean knows you are the Kraken’s mate and carrying his offspring. Your mate is soft and caring, taking care of your needs especially now that you are pregnant. He always shows you off and keeps you well-fucked and happy.

Warnings: minors don't interact, 18+!!!!, monster smut, explicit tentacle smut, egg preg, exhibitionism, Kraken has two🍆 🍆, triple penetration, cockwarming. Don’t like, don’t read.

Read PART 3 here.

The ocean knew your secret.

You’d mated with the Kraken.

It was a secret you wore with pride.

Whispers carried the news through the currents, and every creature beneath the waves knew of the bond you now shared with the most fearsome monster of the seas. You were no longer just a mermaid; you were the Kraken’s mate and you carried his offspring. Your belly was swollen with his eggs, a constant reminder that your mate, for all his fearsome reputation, was tender and devoted only to you.

When you first met the Kraken, you were reluctant and scared. But that was no more. You embraced your mating bond with pride and contentment. You were his soulmate, the most precious thing in his life. You lived with him in the depths of the ocean, in a lavish cave that was yours to do as you pleased.

The Kraken gave you everything: his love, his tenderness, his cocks and tentacles.

He kept you close, always, his wiggling tentacles cradling your pregnant belly while his double cocks stayed permanently buried deep within you, one in your pussy and the other in your ass. He kept you filled at all times, he was fiercely possessive and wanted to constantly show off your union.

You rarely used your tail anymore; the Kraken’s magic had transformed it into legs, and because he fucked your holes at all times, you didn’t mind not using it. After all, you were so big and heavily pregnant that it was hard to swim and move around. You relied on your mate to help you and enjoyed the sensation of being carried by him.

The Kraken’s magic coursed through your veins, ensuring that your body adapted to his needs and to his eggs. He’d laid his eggs inside you from both your pussy and ass. You’d expected the sensations to be overwhelming, but thanks to his magic your body accommodated them without any harm or discomfort. There was only a mild sensation of fullness rather than pain.

Deep within your pussy, five eggs were nestled against your cervix, each one smooth, rounded and about the size of a human fist. In your ass, the other five eggs were similarly aligned and pressed against the walls of your rectum in a magical chamber that sacked them together. You would carry them for twelve months so you had a long way to go.

Carrying Kraken eggs made you impossibly aroused and in need of your mate. You craved his presence and his cocks or tentacles inside you. His seed was nutritious for the eggs so you were always filled in both pussy and ass, no matter where you were or who was around. Each movement of his cocks caused the eggs to shift slightly, sending waves of pleasure through you and keeping you in a state of heightened arousal.

The Kraken showed you off to the other ocean creatures, his beautiful mate, swollen with his spawn and constantly pleasured by his cocks. It was a display of his love and respect for you and everyone was eager to take a peek at the Kraken’s claiming.

And you didn’t mind. You trusted him completely, loved him deeply.

It was yet another day, and you were the star of another show as your mate fucked you for all to see.

The ocean was bustling with activity, all kinds of creatures witnessing the Kraken’s claiming.

Lying back against your mate, your thighs were splayed open for all to see, supported by his tentacles. The Kraken’s appendages cradled your swollen belly, his suckers lewdly slurping your sensitive nipples. Your pussy and ass were shamelessly exposed as his cocks took turns filling up your holes. They thrust rhythmically and occasionally changed holes, making you moan and writhe.

“I know you can take more, little mate,” your mate’s husky voice spoke in your mind. “Open wide.”

“Hmp…” you opened your mouth and accepted a slimy tentacle in your throat. It fucked you slowly, leaking nutrient juices in your belly.

“That’s it,” he drawled, his eyes going with predatory hunger. “Swallow it. There you go, such a good mate."

Working your throat, you licked the slimy tentacle fucking your throat. You felt the warmth liquid drip into your stomach while his cocks continued their steady pounding, your body trembling with pleasure until you shattered and came with muffled cries. Your holes clenched around his dicks and he kept fucking you through bliss, adjusting you in front of the audience so you were kneeling on the seabed. With an audible squelch, the cocks left your drenched holes, Kraken cum leaking out of your pussy and ass, dancing in the water.

Keeping you securely in place, he spread your pussy open with two tentacles.

You heard gasps and whispers from the crowd, felt their gazes, their envy and arousal, and they only fueled your love for your mate.

“Look at my beautiful mate,” the Kraken said proudly. “My mate. Mine! The most exquisite creature in the sea. Look how sweet her pussy is, how pretty and tight.”

He thrust a slimy tentacle in your plump cunt, wiggling it deep, so deep that it nudged against the eggs nestled within you. Another one followed, stretching your walls and pulsing up inside you. You moaned, fisted the sand in your palms as the tentacles fucked you deeply while the slime in your mouth thrust up and down, its slimy texture coating your lips and throat.

“M-mhh-mate… mphhh…” you managed to say once the tentacle finally slipped out of your mouth.

“What is it, sweet one?”

“Nnaaahh… need it fast and hard,” you whined, and pushed back against the tentacles in your pussy. “P-please.”

“All in good time, mate. I’m showing everyone how perfect you are. I showed off your pretty pussy and now I need to show off your pouting little asshole before I fuck it.”

Whining submissively, you stayed put as he angled your hips to give the audience a perfect view of his domination. His tentacles fondled your swollen belly, the proof of your union as his appendages opened the mounds of your ass, exposing your pouting rosebud to every onlooker. The tips of a thick tentacle prodded and stretched the rim before slipping deep inside your ass. Another one joined in, bottoming out inside you.

“Look at my sweet mate.” The Kraken looked at the abyss’s creatures, his deep, resonant voice echoing through their minds. “While you all scorn and fear me, my beautiful mermaid has accepted me and worships me with her body. She accepts me so completely, her ass stretching and accepting me deep.”

You whined and panted and he brought his cocks over your face. You obediently licked them up, your hands pumping the massive girths. The tentacles delved repeatedly in your pussy and ass, pouring juices all over the eggs nestled inside you. His cocks now rubbed against your breasts, leaking against your sensitive nipples. You made a cradle with your plump tits and pumped his cocks up and down while licking and suckling the heads.

The sensations were overwhelming, especially when another tentacle started flicking your clit. White-hot pleasure blinded you and you trembled in another orgasm, your walls clenching around the tentacles pounding your depths. The Kraken followed, cumming with a defeating roar and thrusting both cockheads in your mouth so you could swallow every drop of his seed.

“Glrkh—mnhhh!” you sucked and sucked, breathing steadily despite the tentacles fucking your holes.

“Yes, such a lovely mouth. Suck me dry,” he drawled, slimes caressing your face.

“Nnnaaahh… Kraken,” you panted softly as you gave kitten licks to the head of each cock. He had just released but he was hard as ever. He always was. “Such a good mate for me. So hard and ready.”

“Always for you, little one. Are you feeling alright?” he asked, moving you so your were straddling his huge body, his tentacles cradling your thighs and waist against him.

“Hmm…’m alright…” you clutched him, oversensitive at the tentacles filling you so completely. Every thrust made you see stars.

“You love this, don’t you?” he teased, his voice a seductive whisper. “You love being fucked by your mate and shown off to everyone.”

“Yes,” you whimpered, breathless with pleasure. “I love it. I love being fucked by my Kraken.”

“Love you, too, my little mermaid.” His tentacles slid out of you with an obscene squelch and you whimpered at the emptiness.

“Nooooo….”

“I’m here, little mate, I’m here,” he said comfortingly as he repositioned his cocks and surged inside you to the brim.

You moaned loudly; his shafts pulsed inside you, invading you so completely and rubbing against each other.

“So beautiful,” he gazed at you, his tone softer but no less possessive.

“Shall we go home now, my Kraken? W…want you to fuck me to sleep.”

“As you wish, my sweet one.”

Wrapping his larger tentacles around you, he pulled you closer and began to swim, his powerful body and tentacles cutting through the water. His cocks throbbed within you, the thick lengths filling you completely as he moved in slow, torturous thrusts. He carried you through the dark waters, the journey home a blur of orgasms and moans.

The Kraken guided you into your cave and laid you down on a soft bed of seaweed and leaves. His tentacles cradled your belly while his cocks fucked you in gentle strokes. You moaned softly against him, exhaustion mingling with pleasure. You relaxed into the embrace of his tentacles and reveled in his warmth and security.

“Rest now, my little mate,” he whispered. “I will keep you safe.”

You gazed up at him, your eyes heavy. “Hmmm… love you,” you murmured. With his cocks still buried deep within you, he rocked you gently, lulling you into sleep.

“And I love you,” he replied, watching over you.

I worked really hard for this. I hope you liked it! Please reblog with your thoughts and comment what you want to see next. 🖤 Follow for more and turn on notifications for when I update.

[crystallizedtwilight]

Nightmare Before Christmas AU Overview:

🎃🦇🍂

OVERVIEW: This AU follows the events of the movie The Nightmare Before Christmas. Taking place a few years in the future, it focuses on the adventures of Lock, Shock, and Barrel as young adults. The trio has since been welcomed into the town by Pumpkin King and Queen Jack and Sally, though they still live happily in their treehouse on the outskirts. They enjoy life under their own command, free from the now-deceased Oogie Boogie, causing mischief and pulling pranks on the good folk of Halloween Town. Throughout their continued adventures together they discover that growing means learning about themselves, each other, and dealing with change. But one thing remains constant—they'll always be birds of a feather, now and forever.

BACKSTORIES: The trio came to Halloween Town under unfortunate circumstances. Each of their families had lived in the human world, as many monsters do, either nomadically, elusively in the wilderness, or by masquerading. The trio were all born in different parts of the the world during the height of monster hunting. They were three fortunate cases who were found by other monsters and taken to Halloween Town as orphans.

Once in Halloween Town, the trio often ditched school, feeling they weren’t as accepted as the local kids, and deliberately caused trouble which earned them a bad reputation. The three bonded over a love of mischief and the feeling of being outcasts, so when Oogie offered them a life free of rules, they were easily convinced to leave the town entirely to become his henchmen.

Unbeknownst to them, the reason monster hunting took place during that time was because Oogie was rampantly devouring human children. Essentially, they were orphaned because their boss had given humans in several towns desperate cause to hunt the supernatural.

They would not come to learn this until after Boogie’s death. They grew up resenting humans for orphaning them and were horrified to learn that they'd worked for the monster who forced humans to defend themselves as well as let their parents take the fall. Nowadays, they choose to give the human world a chance by regularly traveling all over the world.

LOCK:

Lock is an imp, which is a type of devil. He has nocturnal vision, speed, and a natural desire to climb to very high places. He can often be found on the roof of the treehouse or up a tree when he needs to think. In the human world, imps are stealth hunters in deep forests, preying on deer and other local fauna. However, Lock has a diet of junk food and candy since he was raised without these hunting skills in Halloween Town.

Imps are naturally solitary creatures and dislike group settings, so no imp has ever come through Halloween Town. This, unfortunately, gave Lock a subconscious sense of loneliness and doubt. This is why he tries the hardest to keep the trio together by rejecting any change, which at one point resulted in a huge argument with Shock when she wanted to start attending coven studies a few days a week.

Of the three, Oogie’s abuse rooted itself mostly deeply within him, as Oogie played into the “who else would want you” angle Lock already felt as the only imp in town. He often overcompensates for his insecurities with arrogance and acts childishly, selfishly, and even meanly at times. However, under it all, he has a good heart and just wants to know that his friends aren’t going to leave him.

Lock and Shock are rivals who motivate each other, constantly bickering over which one of them is actually the leader of the trio. At the end of the day, they respect each other's skills and would do anything to keep their friend safe, but you'll never hear them say that.

Eventually, Lock begins a casual fwb relationship with Barrel, under the terms "as long as it doesn’t change anything”—worried that if they labeled themselves and it went sour, he could lose his friend. Barrel, who had always been in love with him, happily agreed to these terms. However, despite insisting that they were only friends, Lock finds himself extremely jealous when another ghoul, Belladonna, takes an interest in Barrel.

Lock is overwhelmed to realize that he actually does have feelings for Barrel but has likely missed his chance with him by insisting they weren't together, and Belladonna is probably better for him anyway. In an emotional confrontation where Lock accidentally scars Barrel’s arm with a bite, the two finally confess their true feelings.

SHOCK:

Shock is a witch, which is a type of magical entity. Of the three, she is the most confident and intelligent. Most witches will start coven studies at a young age to learn how to harness their magic, however, growing up under Oogie, she was discouraged from doing so. After Oogie’s demise Shock found herself determined to pursue her dreams of magic. Unlike how it had affected Lock, Oogie’s vicious words of “you’re not good enough” were only fuel to her fire, and she took all that anger and turned in into passion for her studies. 

She demanded that Halloween Town’s coven mentor her, even though she was older than the typical witch who was just starting her studies. The coven saw her passion and agreed. The studying has three phases: master flying, master potions, and master hexes, and one cannot be learned until the previous is mastered. The process takes years but Shock is currently deep in her potions phase and can often be found nose-deep in a book or foraging for herbs. Mastering hexes is her dream and she is eagerly chasing it.

One night, while out for a flight, Shock encounters a banshee crying in the moonlight. Shock learns that her name is Calliope and the human family’s line that she watched over had comes to an end. Shock instantly feels drawn to her and they quickly become friends. Shock secretly makes it her mission help Calliope feel happy again. Eventually, the two develop romantic feelings for each other as well.

BARREL:

Barrel is a ghoul, which is a type of demon that feasts on the flesh of cold, buried humans. Like Lock, Barrel was raised on junk food and candy in Halloween Town so that’s the diet he prefers today. Ghouls are naturally nomadic due to their diet, needing to find different graveyards to dig in to avoid being caught. However, many ghoul packs often breeze through Halloween Town for events, and are genuinely regarded fondly by the locals since they’re always polite and up for a fun time.

Of the three, Barrel is the most easygoing. He wants to hang out with his friends more than he wants to prank people, but is always up for fun nonetheless. He also keeps scorpions as pets. Regarding Oogie, Barrel walked away the least scathed because Shock and Lock intentionally took the brunt of his anger to protect him since he was the youngest. This left Barrel with a sense of guilt for not being strong enough to protect his friends back then. However he’s worked through that by deciding he would never let either of them be hurt again now that he could hold his own.

Barrel always had a crush on Lock since the moment he met him. The feeling was not mutual, and it wasn’t until Barrel kissed him much later in life that Lock even entertained the idea. Despite this, Barrel continues to love him timelessly and patiently, despite Lock still having a lot to work through and trouble recognizing his own feelings.

CALLIOPE:

Calliope is a banshee, which is a type of fairy that heralds death. She is sweet-natured and very new to the ways of Halloween Town, having grown up in the human world. She loves dogs since, like her, they also warn humans of danger. She has taken a liking to Zero in particular.

Calliope develops feelings for Shock who not only helped her feel at home in Halloween Town, but also helped her find her happiness when she never thought she'd smile again. Nowadays, Calliope is happier than ever before.

BELLADONNA:

Belladonna is a ghoul who lives in the human world with a pack of other ghouls. They masquerade as a human band/roadies, live nomadically, and actually put on some good concerts. Ghouls don’t kill or cause any harm to humans (they love their audiences!) but they do eat corpses by raiding graves at night. They breeze through Halloween Town once or twice a year for big events.

Belladonna is instantly attracted to Barrel when they meet at one of Halloween Town's formal parties. She is fun, good-natured, and helps Barrel learn about what his kind is up to in the human world.

JACK:

Jack still reigns as Pumpkin King, alongside Sally whom he recently wed. Regarding the trio, Jack feels guilt for overlooking them when they were children. Jack had a no-kill policy when it came to humans and Oogie Boogie did not—due to this conflict, Jack banished Oogie to the outskirts, and he is the reason the town has a guarded gate.

Jack was especially bitter about this rivalry, since he used to be friends with Oogie, and declared that Oogie would never be allowed into town again. Moreover, anyone associated with Oogie needed a by-name invitation from Jack himself before they’d be allowed into town. Even though the trio were just children at that time, Jack declared there would be no exceptions, and ignored the fact that the trio were actually in real danger with Oogie, which he found easy to overlook since they were so ill-behaved and rude to him.

At the end of the movie the trio have a change of heart and warn the townsfolk that Jack, Sally, and Sandy are trapped in Oogie's lair. Even though Jack was able to defeat Oogie before needing the town's assistance, this helped him see that the trio are actually good kids and he was wrong to ignore their circumstances for so long.

Nowadays, Jack tries very hard to make up for his mistake. He has declared that they are welcome inside the town, removed the gate, and regularly defends them when they prank the townsfolk (and Jack himself). Sometimes, Jack tries too hard, requiring their attendance at Town celebrations which the trio roll their eyes at. They regard Jack as a nerd, but know he is well-meaning. The mayor still dislikes them, but trusts Jack’s judgement.

SALLY:

Sally, now Pumpkin Queen, gets along quite well with the trio. Because she is so clever, she’s the only person in town they’ve never managed to prank, and she even managed to prank them once. Though Queen is her title, sewing is her passion and she happily has taken up the job as town seamstress, eagerly designing clothes for all the wonderful shapes that call Halloween Town home, trio included.

Shock actually enjoys Sally’s company and thinks of her like an older sister, even confiding in or asking her for advice at times. Lock is still a bit skeptical and cold with her since he is forever done with authority figures, though Sally finds him funny. Barrel likes Sally just fine, and really enjoys how soft and comfortable she makes all his clothes.

OTHER KIDS:

Growing up, the trio didn’t like the inner-town kids (Corpse Kid, Mummy Boy, and Winged Demon, as they’re referred to in the movie). The trio saw them as “goody-two-shoes” who grew up nice and cushy inside the town gate, happy to follow Jack’s ever order, and going home to loving families every night. However, the inner-town trio prove to not actually be so bad and take earnest steps to make the trio feel welcome in town after Oogie’s demise.

MISC FACTS: ▪️ The trio regularly utilize the towns tomb portals to travel all over the human world. They're particularly interested in celebrations or festivals that are similar to Halloween. They're technically not supposed to interact with human festivities so openly, as fear of the unknown gives monsters more mystery and therefore more fright factors on Halloween, but Sally knows they do so and keeps their secret: [1] [2] [3] [4]

▪️ They upgraded their treehouse to be more spacious: [1] [2] [3]

▪️ They gave each other piercings to signify them being friends forever

▪️ The three of them were brought to Halloween Town just days apart. They were then named as a unit after the merism. However, they did have other names before they arrived, though they no longer want to use them.

▪️ None of them know how old or when their birthdays are. They mark time in a very general sense by how many Halloweens it feels like they've had together.

▪️ This AU began as sketches in 2018 and I posted my first art of them publicly in 2020. I was inspired by the Photo Booth pin. I thought it would be fun if the trio took pictures in the more modern sense, capturing their shenanigans with selfies and documenting their mischief, which is why the first couple drawings are framed that way.

The second thing that inspired me was the screenshot of Oogie saying he’ll decide which of the trio to eat when they displease him, and the general theory that the masks in the treehouse are from previous victims whom he had eaten. I thought since Jack destroys Oogie at the end of the movie, maybe the trio gets the chance to grow up, hence an AU about their happy, older years.

ART TAGS:

🎃 Entire Nightmare Before Christmas Tag

💘 Lock/Barrel Tag

🩵 Calliope Tag

💚 Belladonna Tag

🤩 Fan Art of My AU Tag (THANK YOU!!)

INSTAGRAM:

best_trickortreaters

[chaosfae-writes]

𝐦𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐝𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐥

premise: the lioness gnaws on her favored maiden.

pairing: yandere!cersei lannister x poc!reader

warnings: abuse of power, gender identity issues (slight, but this is cersei), wlw, dead dove smut.

ao3

a/n: although I love show cersei, she was watered down a bit. I wanted to see more of her delulu side, and exploration of her gender issues. Sansa Stark cameo! Sansa is just a baby that needs protecting! <3 anyways, enjoy! <3 do not repost my works!

Cersei Lannister doesn’t have companions.

An unruly child grew into a woman with a crude tongue. Where she lacks empathy with a blackened heart, she makes up for her beauty and charm—- that only extends so far.

Golden locks, and fair skin—- with a temper of a lion. Deludes herself that she has been deprived of her inheritance to Casterly Rock, and is the true queen majesty of all seven kingdoms.

Everything belongs to her.

Her kingdom, her brother, her children —- even you.

A possessive creature. Her love only extends to what she craves, and what she sees in herself. And whenever she senses a threat upon her possessions, that anyone could snatch away her toys —- the lioness becomes irate.

A small council, and a small flock of handmaidens. Only a handful of maids are entrusted in the queen’s space, but only one to bear witness the queen at her rawest.

You are punished by her unsought favor.

To clean her, to dress her, a vessel for her to unburden herself on you. Mistakenly you offered sympathies as a woman one day —- perhaps, too kindly.

Prior, you were just a handmaiden blending in within the palace.

The late king had struck Cersei, you catered to her. Cleaning her split lip, all you spoke was that a queen should be respected, no matter what she has uttered.

All you did was to perform your duty as the queen’s servant … no ill will. Perhaps it’s your shyness, or your taught obedience that caught Cersei’s meticulous eye.

Eventually, she demanded more of you. Requesting your presence for everything, and eventually more demanding—- more touchy.

Dressing you in her house’s colors—- gold and deep red. Adorning you with luxurious fabrics, and discreetly pinning a lion brotchee upon your shoulder. It brought a wave of embarrassment, for such clothing is above your station.

Showering you with such gifts as a king does so to his paramour. It became abhorrent at times to nearby eyes—- more than once, you caught her father’s cold glare.

Conversing with you—- or rather at you, rambling on about her fits of rage upon her father’s lack of respect, how she isn’t respected as queen, how the small folk should be kissing her feet—- or how her little brother should’ve died at the birthing bed.

Delusions of greed and arrogance woven with the silk of self-wallowing, and pity.

Always touching.

Grazing your skin by the fingertips, her breath upon the slope of your neck, gripping your mound tightly as if she possesses any ownership. Sending Bernadette —- against the maid’s growing irate —- to fetch for you almost every fortnight.

To the point where you don’t even sleep in your own chambers anymore.

-

The traitorous wolf is dead.

Long love the youthful stag.

A feast, a celebration held by the newly crowned king. As he cheers over the death of one of the noblest men to live. A cruel boy who immulates his mother’s strife. A feast of dancing, and platters of luxurious food, merry music and jesters.

Seated beside Cersei, as well as her other maidens Bernadette and Senelle. Carefully, your eyes float a peek at the little dove seated beside Joffrey. Sansa is now a shell of the young girl she once was. Pity dwells within you, a somber child, who’s eyes never leave her lap.

You were once that child, once hopeful, only for life to beat you as if you were nothing. Life doesn’t spare the young, age has no limits.

You’re picking at the fruits and meats on your plate, rather bored at the royal nonsense. Gossip among ladies, and redundant chatter of politics among the lords —- it doesn’t pertain to you.

Never has, never will.

As a young girl, it bothered you. How unfair it was that the town folks suffer, as the noble float above the clouds with fine clothing, unending platters of food, and spoiled beyond their dreams.

Now, it doesn’t matter. The bitterness doesn’t matter. Grief to spite, to then an achromatic sense of life. You learned that you are no different than these flocks —- we all are born, then we die all the same, buried in the same soil we go.

But fantasies of escaping to the East, to the land of your ancestors —- to start anew keeps you hopeful. Meet someone, have a babe or two. Live on a farm fruitful of crops.

Lost in your thoughts, you don’t sense a presence looming nearby, ever so watching, gawking at its prey.

“May I have this dance?” A voice soaked in sultry warmth, beckoning and confident. Startling you to jump just a bit, turning over your shoulder, standing above you, is Jaime Lannister. Gold yellow hair, smooth and silky, and a confident smirk to match.

“Lord Commander.” You speak in a gasp, bowing your head respectfully. Jaime’s smile twitches, growing wider—- Lord Commander —- not many address him as such. It’s always Kingslayer , never an ounce to respect.

“May I have the pleasure of a dance?” Jaime’s tone is more smoother, his canines flashing as if he’s ready to bite.

Cersei’s eyes narrow, “Jaime, let her be.” She tries to keep her voice low. Jaime scuffs playfully, “ And why? All these squawking hens must be such a bore.” He turns to you with a boyish grin, making you laugh softly.

All it does is make Cersei more annoyed. She has been upset all evening—- rather all day. Cersei found you earlier in the morning tending to Sansa. The little girl was bruised and broken by the mongrel of Cersei’s beastly son.

Tending to Sansa felt wholesome, it filled a void inside you. Reminded you of how it felt to be a mother again.

It irritated something in Cersei, to see you so kind to another.

“Thank you, Ser,” You cautiously say, you can feel Cersei’s tension. Doe eyes flutter back to Jaime, “But there are more gracious ladies who are more suited for your hand.”

Jaime tsks at your rejection. “ Nonsense. These birds are not to my taste.” He out-stretches his hand, not taking no for an answer.

Hesitantly, you take his hand, his fingers curl around, no space for escape. Jaime guides you by the feet, feeling the heat of anxiety flood your flesh, as if you felt the thousands of gazes in your direction.

But—- the daggers lodging themselves in your back were from a pair of greens.

A clunky sway between four feet, it’s quite difficult to catch up to Jaime’s step. Unaware at first to steady yourself; Jaime takes this to his advantage, slithering his palm to the nape of your tailbone, luring you into him.

Muttering low, “Follow my lead.” Jaime whispers. Slowing his footfalls, you follow his pace. Clenching your jaw, rather upsetting to be in this position, in the hands of a noble —— in such a vulnerable display.

“I am afraid I won’t be much of a dancer,” Your eyes glued to your feet, a little flumpily. “I haven’t had lessons.” Not daring to glance upward at his intense eyes.

“And weren’t taught lessons on manners.” Jaime jests, earning your head to snap up swiftly, now eye to eye, with a frightened stare of a doe. “Have I offended you, Ser?” Your eyes wearily gaze down.

Jaime chuckles, “There it is again,” his finger curls under your chin, making you look at him in the eye. “Most of the dance, you have not addressed me with so much as a glance.”

You hum, eyes downcasted to the flooring. “My apologies, I am accustomed to not stare too long at the noble.” Swapping harshly, your throat clenching a little.

“Mousey little creature, you are.”

You breathe a titter, bowing your head still, “The bored lion plays with the mouse.” Shyly staring at your feet, careful not to step on his toes.

“Bored isn’t the word.” Jaime whispers, tilts his head closer, attempting to catch your eyes. He leans in your space, you can feel his warmth beat against your face. His nose is just inches from yours.

“Merely curious.” Jaime teases. “My sister has had many maidens, but never any has been beautiful.” He has always snuck glances.

Your eyes slowly gaze up, fully taking in his golden hue.

A natural skin of rich brown —- not many folk in the West possess such color, he can tell you are not of Andal birth. Your flesh shines as sun brown, and curly tresses brushed back to a gold thin lined headdress.

You hum low, not intrigued in his antics, your mind is too preoccupied by another twin —- one who is more meaner.

“You hide yourself in plain cloth, dare to deprive a man?” He chuckles, but his eyes are heavy with need. A simple dress of royal blue—- not the colors of the house you serve, it doesn’t shape your bodice, nor do you seek for it to.

“There is nothing beneath to be desired.” You snip softly. A ripple of fear shivers your flesh, sneaking glances over Jaime’s shoulders. Barely a glimpse at the royal table, a flash of angry green eyes burns you.

“I beg to differ.” His voice pulls you back, eye to eye now. Jaime swirls your bodice around, his open palm tight on your tailbone. Sending a shiver upon the curve of your spine, never been touched by a man.

“My sister has kept you all to herself, I’m envious.” Jaime holds you to his chest, heavy breathing collides. “You tend to her hand and foot—- is there any way you can tend to my needs?” A smirk curls on Jaime’s mouth, ready to sink his teeth.

“When I am cold in my grave.”

“A knight and a handmaiden,” Jaime’s shrugs his head, “A sight all too common.” Gesturing to this as it could be a casual affair. He enjoys your bite, so used to the familiarity of women throwing themselves at him, such easy prey to play with, but he rejects them all.

This is new, a fun game.

You admittedly enjoy his touch, Jaime is breath-taking. Golden honey hair, a strong beautiful sculpted nose, and beautiful green hues.

“I must behold my reputation.” You said in a hush, “I am a lady in your sister’s circle, it would be improper to entertain her brother—- a Lord Commander no less.” You hum low, a small twitch of a smile.

Before Jaime could speak, you catch a glimpse of an ornery glare from a distance, burning with fury. The boldness fades on your lips, but confidence still lingers.

“Doesn’t your oath forbid you of any intimacy?” You jest with him, but your mind is still wondering for Cersei, as well as making sure your feet are coordinated.

You’re nearly breathless, and frightened.

Jaime feigns shock. “My oath won’t be burdened nor broken, if it is kept a secret.” He twirls you again among the sea of dancing lords and ladies. “Secrets can be delicious.” He whispers a wisp into the shell of your ear.

“Even poison can be enticing.” You tilted your chin at him, Jaime smiles, his hands circle your waist even closer to himself. His thumb stroking against your waist.

The environment blurs for a moment, it feels nice. To be treated with kindness, and gracious banter. To not be touched so harshly. But simultaneously, it’s all too much. As if a foreigner in unknown land, touch such as this is—- new.

“How could anyone deny themselves pleasure? Even if it’s —- dangerous?”

You gasp, mouth agape, for once, you didn’t have a snip to his flirtations. Jaime hums a chuckle, “Why, has the mouse lost her tongue?”

“I—”

“The Queen is ready to retire for the evening.” Bernadette’s voice floats behind you, and you thank the Gods above for her —- for just a moment. To be freed from this burning grasp.

“A thousand apologies, Ser. I must tend to—”

“My sister… yes. ” There is a mirth to his tone, mischievous. His eyes stare as if he knows something, toying with it his tongue.

“Yes…” You nod with a timid smile. You bow your head to him, grabbing the skirt of your dress, “I am grateful for the honor of a dance, Commander.” Jaime’s mouth is agape, and genuinely it spreads to a wanton smile.

“ Jaime.”

You gasp a breath, eyes taken back. Jaime grabs your hand into his, his thumb caressing your knuckles.

“Please call me Jaime.” His eyes are pleading, almost glassy. You blink, a simper of appreciation. A royal has never been so amiable with you. Always ‘my lord’ this, and ‘my lady’ that.

“Thank you, Jaime.” You say, a human sensation of appreciation is twinkling like feathers in your belly. It feels nice.

A cough emits behind you. You close your eyes —- it’s time. Lashes blink back, “I must go.” Feet backpedals, hands slowly slip from the warmth of his fingers.

“Yes, you must go.” Jaime says coyly.

Oval nails slip back to your stitching, you twirl around to walk behind Bernadette. Duckling footfalls in line, as Bernadette walks with a hast stride, slinking through the dancing bodies.

“Our majesty is very impatient.” Bernadette’s voice is snarky, as if she chastises a child.

When has she ever not been?

All you can do is strum in agreement.

As you both reach the king’s high table, you catch Cersei’s eyes. Envy as green as her hues, mouth wrinkled. Immediately she stands from her chair, bidding her son a good evening —- all he does is give her a wave and a cantankerous smile, too busy boasting with low lords.

You immediately follow behind Cersei’s trail, biting your tongue, the edge of your jaw clenching in unbridled anger.

Bernadette is not far behind, trying to level at Cersei’s shoulders, but Cersei snappily dismisses her with a flick of her wrist.

Bernadette is sent away to her own rooms, much to her dismay.

-

The lioness is prowling.

Foaming at the maw.

Cersei walked with a firm gait. Her hands clasped over each other, her lips twitching; her brocade fabric sways against the flooring. Her brother —- her lover, and her maiden in such a display.

The walk back to her chambers is eerily quiet. Anxiously your fingers fiddle with your rings, as your belly is churning as slippery eels.

Hastily, you grasp the large oak brown door handles, opening it wide for her—- hopefully pleasantries can ease the tension.

Without a look at you, Cersei immediately walks into her chambers. Harsh fingers tugs at her dress collar, Cersei’s back to you. Routine is often instructed to undress her, but she isn’t thrilled to be touched yet.

“Prepare my bath.” She demands, without even looking at you. “Yes, your Majesty.” You speak in a strain. Rolling your sleeves up to the joints of your elbows.

In the washroom, you fill the tub with warm water that has been on flame for awhile. Carefully, you begin to pour in scented oils, put her bar of soaps on the dish tray, and a rag over your forearm.

Cersei strides to the room, only in a crimson robe, with golden threads. Her face is cold, frozen in disgust.

Ungraciously Cersei drops her robe, it glides down her arms. She steps out of the bundle of fabric, and into the steamy bath. The routine commences—- you have it ingrained on what she likes.

As you kneel, Cersei untangles your headdress uncouthly, letting it fling to the floor, your hair flows down your shoulders. You resume your duty, as if nothing happened.

You unclasp her hair from the gold clips, softly caressing her skull. Untangling her swirls, and unclipping her jewelry. Tenderly, you knead the nape of her neck, to the slope of her throat, to her collarbones.

Cersei moans, closes her eyes in content, but she won’t be manipulated by your touch.

Her eyes flicker open.

“Bring me wine.” Curt and sharp. A dismissive wave of her hand. You stand up from your knees, grabbing the wine jug, pouring the dry sweet Arbor wine into her cuppee.

“Did you enjoy yourself?” Cersei asks, if possible, the heat of her jealousy can boil the bath. Hesitant, you cautiously say, “Yes, the Lord Commander is a gracious dancer.” You offer her the goblet.

“Formalities,” Cersei chuckles, her head bobs tipsily, “ Ser… Lord… ” Her laugh dies, with a frown, “—with how you were fondling him, might as well refer to him by his name.” Her voice is sharp. She snatches the cuppee from your hand.

“I wouldn’t dare to speak to him so formally.” You say, sinking into yourself more and more. You resume cleaning her, trying to get through the night.

“Is it men you seek for?” Cersei asks, twisting the cuppee between her fingertips. You shake your head, “No, your grace.”

“No?” Cersei’s voice rises in pitch, almost mockingly.

“I do not seek companionship.” You peek through your lashes, trying to keep your composure. As a fawn caught by the hands of a hunter.

A thread snaps in Cersei’s mind at those words.

“If I bore a cock, perhaps you would be enticed.” Cersei hissed, her milky fingers clenching her gold cuppee. Her voice slithers into an incoherent mumble, ‘If I was born a son, we would be wedded.’

Her drunken vulnerability turns sour once more.

An empty malicious thought plagues Cersei.

“The Mountain has a taste for sweet gentle creatures—-” Cersei whispers, fiddling with your sleeve. “He would eat you alive.” An airy laugh escapes her, head reclines. She’s rambling poison, trying to hurt you, as if you have pained her in return.

“Perhaps then your whorish behavior would then be satisfied.” Cersei growls into her drink.

You remain mute, not daring to speak in your defense. It’s better fitted to let her ramble in her delusions. Cersei’s eyes spark again, feline eyes stare at you.

“Remember what he did to our late Princess Elia Martell? That was just sport for him.” Her face morphed to a devilish grin, hazy eyes sharply baring into your wet doe ones. The threat is clear, but you don’t catch the bait.

“All of the realm recalls the tragedy.”

Cersei’s face falls a bit, her smile morphs to a frown, her eyes narrow spitefully. She hoists her slender leg up, splashing her bath water everywhere, even drizzling your fabric, and face; earning a flinch. Your eyes scrunches shut, from the swash.

“Scrub.”

Gently you resume washing Cersei. The wash cloth soaps her skin, avoiding her lower regions, not daring to touch her —- it will only spark her. You save that task for last.

Cersei gulped down her wine, the warm twang floods her blood, and her mean strike.

Cersei calms for a moment, her eyes staring yards away. Finally, her body is cleaned, and you cautiously dove your hand into the soapy water, scrubbing her mound. You can feel her pubic hair through the rag. Out of instinct, Cersei bucks her hips against your palm.

Cersei moans happily.

“My brother desires you.” Cersei slurs, just a little. Staring into her wine, her fingernail scraping against the gold engraving. She speaks in a manner as if she talks to herself. You ignore her, swallowing harshly. Cersei is bristling, you prepare yourself —- for the outburst.

Her wet hand reaches for your hair, waves of midnight brown. Her fingers fiddle with the tresses, coiling into a makeshift fist.

“Pretty little thing…” Cersei deadpans, her pink mouth purses. She tugs downward, causing you to wince. And without any hesitation, her back hand swacks your cheek, sending you to crash into the flooring.

That was Cersei at her gentlest.

Cersei stands from her tub, her tuft of hair in view, nose down at your pitiful state. Crumpled onto the floor, cheek swelling, wet moon eyes —- fragile and broken, just how Cersei likes it.

“My husband wasn’t so kind.” Cersei spits, “He didn’t grant me such mercy.” Cersei’s bare foot grazes against your belly, slightly pushing. Towering over you as if you were a mere worm.

The late king was a brute, harshly thrusting his drunken rage onto Cersei. His swollen belly crushed her, and to add salt to the wound, after violating her body, he would whisper Lyanna in her ear.

“Undress.” Cersei seethes.

Shakily, you untie your dress, one shoulder at a time. “If you dare lay with Jaime—- or with any man, I will cut that tongue out of your little head.” Cersei clicks her tongue, “But oh, that tongue of yours is too delicious. It would be a waste.”

You slip out of your dress, with only a simple white cotton undergarment. Cersei snags your cloth, tearing it to thin ripped shreds, ‘as so a man would’ , Cersei thinks.

Cersei kicks the cotton against the floor by her foot, as you stand shivering under her watchful gaze.

“Kneel.”

As you kneel onto the chilled flooring, Cersei waltz to the bedding, leaning onto her spine, her legs spreading as if she’s presenting a feast.

Crawling on all fours as a dog, head bowing, nose flaring to maintain a steady pace of breath. Closer and closer now, you can feel the heat from her thighs, a natural essence emits from her mound, damp and fresh with herbal water.

Cersei’s fingers sought through your hair, fondling your scalp; guiding you further into her.

Your nose goes against her pelvic bone, her blonde tuft of hair envelopes your entire mouth, tickling your skin. Cersei’s fingers interwoven with your curls, tugging against your scalp sharply now, tight at the roots.

You catch yourself voluntarily suckingly her clit into the cave of your mouth. Sloppily nibbling and licking her folds.

Suckling her mound, mouth latched onto her as if savoring a succulent fruit. Your nose pinned against her hair, all that can be heard is the echo of your tongue lapping. Cersei’s grip is woven tight, it feels like pricking needles against your skull.

Cersei hisses through her teeth, legs spreading wider, hips thrusting against your mouth. Completely at her mercy, her palms holding your head, struggling to breathe, as her cunt is spilt and soppy against your mouth.

Hair not as dark as Robert’s but thick as his once was in his youth, it stirs something in Cersei. As a pot boiling at the rim, she snaps.

“If I was born a son,” Cersei shouts, nearly at her peak, thrashing you off of her. Wiping your mouth by the back of your hand, it glistens with Cersei’s slick.

“Perhaps then, I would have my way with you, not in such a secret!” How dare Jaime try to sway you in his bed, although Cersei warms it herself.

“Fuck you on the hill of Casterly Rock!”

Cersei isn’t always this cruel. Sometimes, she can be kind, and gracious —- as much as she can. Find the humor and joys in her privileged life. When she isn’t drunk, when she can hold a conversation—- she is tolerable.

That Cersei is ‘sweet’ , and in those sparse moments, you can forget that you are merely a servant, and she is the Queen.

“On the bed.” Barking orders as if she is a commander on the battlefield. As you crawl onto the mattress on all fours, Cersei serves herself a handful of your ass, fingers digging.

A pregnant pause.

“Do you desire my brother?” Do you desire a man?

Your face wrinkles in a silent sob, shaking your head, “No, your grace.” Bowing your head down in-between your arms.

“Do you not find him attractive?” Cersei goads, her finger tracing between your cheeks. “No—” a whack against your backside, causing you to wince in pain.

“As children, many couldn’t tell Jaime and I apart.” Cersei says, as she relishes in the blooming heat of your ass. “We mirror each other in so many ways.”

Even both acquire the same appetites.

“You insult him, you insult me.”

“What do you most yearn for in this life?” Cersei asks, tracing your skin, leaving goosebumps in its wake.

“I have no ambitions.” You tiredly say. Sucking in your lips into your mouth, tasting your tears. Blindly blinking with damp lashes. Cersei ignores it, humming low in her throat.

“Every little girl has dreams,” Cersei goades, hovering over your spine, her mouth edging near the shell of your ear. In a warm whisper, “to seek for a prince to whisk them away. Surely I did. ” Her pink tongue slithers, and kitten licks your ear, the warmth jolting a shiver to your mound.

Cersei’s mouth trails down from your cheek, to the slope of your neck, leaving behind open kisses. Scraping the skin of your shoulder with her teeth, nipping here and there —- as if an animalistic urge to tear you apart has overtaken her.

“To be Lady of Casterly Rock, is that what you want?” Cersei says, sitting up again, smacking your back, she hums at your whence.

“I do not yearn for a title,” You wail, speaking through choked tears. “I serve only you.” Wrinkling the satin sheets, bunched between your fingers. Strands of hair cling to your tear stained cheeks.

Cersei plunges her fingers into your cunt, making you cry out. “Does this cunt serve me as well?” Tight walls sucking her fingers in, velvety cave explored.

Intrusive thoughts plague her mind. Images of Jaime crawling and ravishing your body; kissing, biting, and licking. It drives her mad—- with lust. She yearns for it to be three of you.

He is hers, and you are hers.

But what if you two convalude with each other? To leave her behind? To have a life together? An intimacy she has no space to shoulder herself in.

“You plot against me—” Cersei yells, her chin wobbles. Any inkling of logical reason is dwindling now. “Where do you go at night?” She interrogates, nose flaring.

“You slip through the walls, parade yourself for the guards?” She spoke through the cage of her teeth.

“I do not conspire against you, Cersei.” You shrivel, trying to inch further into the bed. “I do not want a life as such with Jaime, I desire to stay here …” you swallow a sob, “in the Red Keep with you.”

That is not enough.

You are Robert, and she wants to hurt you—- sex is electric, or it can be painful. She will fuck you as Robert —- this is what men do. Powerful men take what they want, this is what her father would do —- take, take, take, take ! Power, fear! Take all that she desires, take what she loves—

Love?

Affection isn’t a foreign concept to Cersei, but it isn’t something she gives freely. Only threads of herself can feel her love.

Cersei exhales deeply, trying to organize her thoughts.

Her eyes open blankly, one closes lazily after the other.

“I can see it now,” Her voice is hushed. “A Lannister wedding. Lavish as it can be. Gold it shall be.” Cersei’s head glances down, with an unhinged smile.

“I take Jaime as my husband, and you as my paramour.” Her head is swimming, the wine has sunk her even deeper. “Or perhaps, you as my bride. Oh —- how my father would throw a fit.” Cersei slurs and chuckles as a child.

“If only I was a man,” Cersei leans her body down, engulfing your body into hers. “We would live here, as a man would not be questioned on how many mistresses he possesses.” Her slender fingers creepily slip near your ass.

Guiding the slope of your under thigh between her legs, resting her cunt on your kneecap. The soft tuft of blond hair tickles your bare skin, grinding herself.

Soft wet slick sounds fill your ears, as her fingers grip and tug on the meat of your ass. Her hips are thrashing a bit more harsher now.

Her milky hands slither up the hill of your navel, cupping the weight of your under breast; twirling your brown nipple between her fingertips, twisting.

You hiss at the sting, as she relishes in your distress. Cersei bows her head into your chest, swallowing your breast into her mouth. Her tongue lapping at your nipple, her ivories nibbling and tugging harshly against the skin.

Violently suckling your tit, as you twitch and gasp; worried she might bite it off by the teeth. Despite the astringent offense upon your body, the wave of pleasure cascades you.

Skin breaks into bruises, as you twitch. Sensations of pain and pleasure blur, confusion and ecstasy. Without thought, your fingers caress Cersei’s hair.

Cersei’s mouth releases your breast with a wet pop. A tint of burgundy against the brown of your skin, a reddish ring encircling your nipple. Her puss leaves your knee.

The tip of Cersei’s tongue glides down the path of your belly, down to your navel, to finally your pubic bone. Her warm breaths tickle you.

Raspy moans escape from Cersei, as she slowly licks your mound. Plump, and soft. Flickering with her pink tongue, teasing you.

Her green eyes watch you, as her tongue slips through your folds, tasting you. Delving deep, to your puckering hole. Fucking you with her tongue, no matter how much you fight yourself, the sensation of her mouth on you always sends sparks.

Wetness echoes, as her cheeks puff up against your mound. You move your hips down, fucking yourself on Cersei’s mouth. Slamming your hand against your bedding, gripping the sheets between your roving fingers, as undignified grunts leave your lips.

Cersei admires your heaving bare breasts.

The lioness is selfish—- her mouth leaves you. You whine, stiffly leaning back. Her mouth is damp with your essence. With a harsh slap on your cunt, and another. Cersei finds her enjoyment in your misery, as you mutter for more.

“Pathetic little mercies.” She taunts you.

Silently, Cersei kneels once more, twirling her legs. Lifting your knee upward, over her shoulder, along with your other leg underneath her.

Both of your puss connect, dripping with want. Panting, and sweating, only grunts are in conversation. Your hair is messy, damp baby hairs cling to your forehead.

Cersei’s milky fingers hold the flesh of your thigh, as she rides your cunt with hers. Spilt wet clits, dancing together. Electric sensation that pulls the silky moans from you, as Cersei rides you fast.

Your fingers daringly hold her jiggling ass, fondling her asshole. Toying with it. Cersei squeals at the intrusive touch. A primal surge takes hold of you, placing your fingers into the cave of your mouth, soaking in your saliva.

Your hand cups Cersei between her ass, fiddling the bridge between her asshole to her gaping pussy hole. Her head falls back, as you plunge your fingers inside of cunt.

Her golden hair is loose and disarrayed. Cascading down her face, a lion reduced to a whimpering kitten. Your leg twitches against her chest, Cersei bites at your calf dully.

Your toes curl and flex, as the pit of your belly is unfurling. A choppy high-pitched moan spews from you, your head digging back into the pillows.

Cersei shrills a yes , as her climax reaches itself to the heavens. Bruising your thigh under her fingers. Cumming together, Cersei grinds herself onto you, connecting together, with no space of separation.

Clits throbbing against each other, stinging pleasure. Riding your highs, gently thrashing her clit against yours, earning airy moans. The tuft of her pubic hair against yours fuels the sensation.

Cersei moans delightfully, satisfied with herself. Her body towers over yours, crawling into your heaving arms; not caring of the dewy sheen of sweat that covers your body.

Legs interlocking together, as she pulls you into her arms fully. Turning herself onto her side, her knuckles stroking your hip.

These are the sparse moments you enjoy with Cersei. When she is human, when she relishes in touch, rather than harshness.

“Jaime should not be burdened with duties of the King’s Guard.” Cersei whispers. “He needs a bride. Father is aging, and one day, Castlery Rock will be in need of a lord.” She is mumbling now, mostly to herself.

“That disease of my little brother will defile us with his whores.” Hate spills from her naturally, as it always does.

Her voice trails into silence, her fingers snagging onto your flesh, pulling you closer to her.

Sleep takes Cersei, sinking into the mattress. Paralyzed in her hold until slumber overtook you as well.

The morning sun shone through the windows, baring its light onto your eyes. Rubbing your eyes by the heels of your palms, sinking deeper into the blanket furs.

The hinges of the chamber doors creak, jolting you further into reality, eyes heavily leaning to shut closed. Clicks of heels follow, and a hum.

“It seems the morrow has escaped us.” Her voice is light, cheery even. Not an inch of maligne in her infliction. It’s eerie how the mask can slip on and off—- a performance.

Cersei leans, invading your space, seating upon the mattress. Her eyes lower, and darken. How easily eerie her charm and spite can transmute to one entity.

“If I were to find you in the arms of another,” Cersei says, her voice on edge, taking one step closer, her lips stretch into a gritted wolfish grin. “I will gladly brand your cunt with the sigil of my house.” Her green eyes unflinching, her lips smirking devilishly.

Silence prevails, your hair cascaded against your face. Barely hiding your shame, you subtly nod; submitting to her demanding presence.

Cersei smirks, “Good.” The lioness prowls around her chambers, licking your blood off her paws. A victorious slaughter, a fragile doe locked in her cave, with broken limbs—- and a broken spirit.

-

Peace and quiet.

You inhale a deep breath, as it floods your cavity. Solitude has finally granted itself upon you, away from the yaws of the lioness.

Flexed fingers stroke against the wall, basking in the brisk air. The balcony’s view is marvelous. Unclipping your cleavage, so the breeze can grace your breasts, and sweep against your scalp.

Cersei had taken her leave for a meeting with the king’s council. And surely, no mere maid is allowed in such a space.

Away from her suffocating touch, you can relax in your own skin. A thought comes to you, there are a handful of empty rooms to explore. Your feet carry you down the corridors.

Without thought, searching for an empty chamber, you find one. With the tug of the knobs, you walk freely inside—- only to be greeted with whisking reddish hair.

A gasp catches itself in your mouth, holding your stomach, kneeling legs curtsying in respect.

“Lady Sansa.” You bow your head dutifully. “A thousand apologies, I didn’t intend to intrude.” As your feet backpedal to the entrance, a soft whisper calls.

“Please stay.”

And just like that, her sweet child voice sweeps you.

“Oh, little wolf.” You pinch the fabric of your dress, lifting as you walk with haste. The instinct to hold Sansa over took you. Sitting on her mattress, engulfing her in your arms, quickly her red hair melts against the sapphire threading of your dress.

Sansa’s head is tucked in the crook of your shoulder. Quietly sobbing, her delicate fingers grip against the base of your back, as would a cub cling to its mother’s teat.

Caressing her hair, you shush her softly, rocking her back and forth. “I’m scared.” Sansa’s words are muffled, vibrating against you. “I want to go home.” She wails, mewling.

“My sweet girl, how I long for you to be safe.” You whisper, “I’m so sorry for what has happened.” You kiss her head, muttering apologies into her hair, hoping your kindness weaves itself into her hair, and stays for a rest.

The morrow stretches into noon, as you watch over Sansa. Comforting her in placid silence, brushing her hair. Humming a melody, as your fingers thread intricate braids within her auburn flaming hair.

This feels like home again.

Outside of these walls, both are prisoners within a castle. But here, in this moment, is a woman, and a child. Reliving memories past, as a mother, and as a daughter—- through each other.

To heal these wounds, as mother and daughter.

Just for a moment.

[feroluce]

NO OK BUT I'M STILL NOT OVER BOOTHILL AND DAN HENG AND THE JADE ABACUS IN ENA'S DREAM!!!!!

For some extra context, I have a whole henghill manifesto I wrote over here, but the tl;dr is that Dan Heng decides to use the Jade Abacus of Allying Oath to save the Express Crew the first time. Boothill urges him to think it over carefully, but he doesn't stop him. And then, the second time Dan Heng decides to use it, we get this instead:

And just! That's so!! so!!!

Because like. We see in the first battle against Sunday that that Jade Abacus is effective, like we really do just get an entire army lead by a whole-ass Emanator of The Hunt right to our location and ready to fuck shit up. It's important. It's incredibly valuable. That is a huge amount of power to hold in the palm of one's hand.

But Tiernan's relic works the same way.

Galaxy Rangers are terribly dangerous. Boothill comments on this when discussing Acheron's motives, because he can't believe anyone would be stupid enough to get The Hunt on their asses. They're considered to be on a level even above The Annihilation Gang.

And now, with the burial relic, he has a way to get thousands of them, almost immediately, and all in one place.

And you can't tell me that wouldn't be something extremely useful to Boothill, like literally life-saving. He's wanted by the IPC. He makes his living as a bounty hunter. His whole driving motivation in life right now is to do whatever he can, up to and including throwing away his own human body, to ruthlessly hunt down one man and kill him in revenge. Like that has to be dangerous, the IPC is a massive entity with far-reaching influence and money and power and weaponry. He surely must have already had some close calls.

Like can you imagine it? Galaxy Rangers are solitary creatures. If Boothill were to find himself near death, he would probably be all alone. Do you think he had regrets? Did he wonder if anyone would find his own burial relic? Did it feel the same way it did when they melted his flesh, replaced it with metal? Did he lay there with his vision slowly blacking out until he thought of home, and family, and the little daughter who he never even got to hear her first word, until he was so full of fury that he could prop himself up on his rage like a crutch and find help?

Tiernan's relic would have been like a get-out-of-jail-free card. Just for one time, no matter where Boothill was, someone would find him. The Galaxy Rangers aren't sociable or organized between themselves, but they help their own. Someone would save him.

He chooses to give all of that up to help Dan Heng.

And I just cannot get over it, especially the wording of it, the pause before he speaks, the gentle way he tells him to hold onto his once-in-a-lifetime treasure...!! He wants Dan Heng to leave this to him! He wants him to keep this precious item that will help him save his companions again in the future! And maybe it's just...wishful thinking, me reading too much into it? But I mean. Just the way he says it...

I really do think it comes from a place of deep kinship and respect. That there's a lot of thought and feeling behind that statement. Something from one Pathstrider of The Hunt to another. Boothill fought for his home and his family, he fought really really hard! But. Sometimes that just doesn't matter. And now he's watching Dan Heng fight for his, too.

When he made that decision the first time, Dan Heng was in the parlor car of the Astral Express. He was completely removed from any danger. He could have chosen to get the hell out of Dodge and not look back. Obviously we know he would never even consider such a thing, but it was technically an option, and Boothill watched him decide to go back into the proverbial lion's den for his friends anyway. And I'm sure that was part of what sealed his decision, to later use Tiernan's relic instead of the Jade Abacus to summon enough people to disrupt Ena's Dream. Because he greatly values ideas like righteousness and justice and saving people, and Dan Heng so beautifully embodies all of that and then some.

Boothill doesn't have people to protect anymore, only ghosts to avenge.

And there is just something so endlessly endearing about him wanting to help Dan Heng, to make sure his friend doesn't go through that the way he did.

[niallerspayno]

With You Always (Zayn Malik x reader) - Fic Request

Anonymous request: My idea is Zayn Malik x reader (female/gender neutral) , where the reader is an equestrian (aka horse back rider) and she ends up taking a bad fall off her horse and need to go to hospital. Like how would Zayn react to that whole situation, and then maybe reader makes him lay down to hold her on the hospital bed after getting fixed up?

Masterlist

You’ve always known that horses were more than just animals. They were your escape, your partners in a world where the connection between rider and horse could feel almost magical. From the moment you were old enough to ride, you knew this would be your life. Raised by two trainers, you learned early on that success in equestrian sports came from a balance of hard work, trust, and, above all, a deep respect for the animals you worked with. As a professional horseback rider now, you’ve made a name for yourself in the industry, but the path hasn’t always been easy. Every day, you push yourself and your horses to new limits, striving for perfection, but you wouldn’t have it any other way.

Your world has always revolved around horses. But on one fateful evening, everything shifts.

The invitation arrives for a charity gala in support of animal welfare. At first, you’re hesitant to attend—another night away from the barn, another night of dressing up and mingling. You’d much rather be spending the evening in the stables, practicing with your horses. But a close friend convinces you that it’s for a good cause, and you eventually agree to go.

You expect the usual gala—polished people in suits, forced conversation, and a general sense of formality. But as you walk into the venue, something feels different. The music is soothing, a live band playing soft, acoustic tunes in the corner. You find yourself drawn to the melodies, allowing the rhythm to wash over you as you scan the room, taking in the familiar faces.

That’s when you see him.

Zayn.

He’s standing by a small group of people, but you can’t help but notice him. He doesn’t seem like the typical gala guest, the starched collar and stiff demeanor you’ve seen too often. Instead, Zayn is relaxed, his eyes thoughtful, his demeanor calm. He’s wearing a simple black shirt and jeans, effortlessly blending into the crowd while still managing to exude an undeniable presence. His attention is on the animals—there’s a small group of rescue dogs roaming the space, and Zayn is gently petting one, his focus completely on the animal, as if nothing else matters.

You’re not sure why, but something pulls you toward him. You approach hesitantly, struck by the soft smile he gives you when your eyes meet.

“Hey,” you say, almost shyly. “You’re into animals too, huh?”

Zayn’s smile widens, a warmth in his eyes that makes you feel instantly at ease. “Always have been,” he replies, his voice calm and inviting. “Animals are… well, they just get it, you know?”

You laugh softly, nodding. “I do. Horses are like that for me. They’ve always been the one constant in my life.”

The conversation flows easily from there, the two of you sharing stories about the animals you’ve loved and cared for over the years. You quickly discover that, like you, Zayn’s love for animals runs deep. While he’s not involved in the equestrian world, his passion for rescue work and animal welfare is unmistakable. He’s been involved in various animal rights initiatives and has an undeniable love for all creatures, big and small.

But there’s something else that catches your attention. It’s the music.

Zayn mentions offhand that he’s always found solace in music, too. You learn that he’s a musician—one of the most successful in the world, actually. He’s used music as a way to connect with people, to express emotions and experiences. You mention your love for music as well, your appreciation for the way it can evoke emotion, the way it can tie together moments in life.

“It’s funny,” he says, his voice growing more animated. “I’ve always thought animals and music share something. There’s this connection, like they both have their own rhythm.”

The spark between you is immediate. It’s a mix of shared passions—animals and music—that forms a bridge between your worlds. The way Zayn talks about his career and his art, his ability to see the deeper meaning in the things around him, resonates with you in a way you didn’t expect. The more you talk, the more you realize how much you have in common, how much you both understand the need for connection, whether through animals or through the universal language of music.

By the end of the night, there’s no doubt in your mind that something has shifted. You didn’t expect to meet anyone who would make you feel so seen, so understood. But with Zayn, there’s a quiet confidence in the way he listens, the way he speaks. There’s no pretension, no barriers, just a shared love for the things that matter most.

When the evening wraps up, Zayn asks for your number, and you give it to him without hesitation. As he walks away, you can’t help but smile to yourself, knowing that tonight was only the beginning of something unexpected—and possibly extraordinary.

...

The arena is alive with excitement. The rhythmic pounding of hooves against packed dirt, the hum of the crowd, and the crisp tang of morning air fill your senses. This competition is one of the most prestigious of the season, and you’ve worked tirelessly to be here. Every jump, every stride, every moment has been meticulously prepared for.

Zayn is in the stands, a quiet yet unwavering source of support. He’s come to several of your competitions now, but it still makes your heart flutter to see him there, even if he tries to blend in with his baseball cap and sunglasses. Earlier, he had kissed your forehead, his hand lingering on your cheek as he murmured, “You’re going to crush it out there. Just don’t forget to breathe.”

As you mount Thunder, your trusted partner and cherished horse, you feel that familiar rush of adrenaline. You pat his neck gently, whispering, “Just you and me, boy. We’ve got this.” The crowd fades away, the world narrowing to just you, Thunder, and the course ahead.

The first jumps are seamless. Thunder glides over each hurdle with precision, his power and grace unmatched. The crowd is electric, cheering louder with every successful leap. You catch a glimpse of Zayn in the stands as you round a corner—his body is tense, his hands clasped tightly in front of him, his eyes never leaving you. His belief in you is palpable, and it fuels your determination.

But as you approach the final, most challenging jump, disaster strikes.

Thunder’s stride falters at the last second, a miscalculation that sends both of you tumbling. The world spins as you’re thrown from the saddle, hitting the ground hard. The pain is immediate and excruciating, radiating from your side and leg, leaving you breathless. Your head slams against the dirt, and the metallic taste of blood fills your mouth.

A sharp cry escapes your lips as agony surges through your body. The crowd gasps in horror, the cheers turning into murmurs of alarm. Everything feels distant, muffled, as if you’re underwater. Thunder scrambles to his feet nearby, unharmed but clearly distressed.

Zayn is on his feet instantly, his heart dropping into his stomach as he watches you fall. He doesn’t think—he just moves, pushing through the crowd and vaulting over the barrier with an urgency he’s never felt before.

“(Y/N)!” he shouts, his voice breaking.

He’s at your side in seconds, dropping to his knees, his hands hovering as he takes in the sight of you—your face pale, your body trembling, and your leg twisted at an unnatural angle. His chest tightens at the sight of blood on your temple.

“Baby, I’m here,” he says, his voice steady despite the sheer panic flooding his system. “Don’t move, okay? Just stay with me.”

Your eyes flutter open, the pain almost too much to bear. “Zayn…” you whisper, tears streaming down your cheeks. “It hurts so much.”

“I know, love,” he says, his hand finding yours and gripping it tightly. “I know. You’re going to be okay. I promise.”

The medics rush onto the field, their voices urgent as they assess your injuries. A fractured femur, possible rib fractures, and a concussion—they’re rattling off words that make Zayn’s stomach churn. He refuses to let go of your hand, his presence an anchor in the storm of pain and fear.

“Sir, we need to move her,” one of the medics says firmly.

“I’m coming with her,” Zayn replies immediately, his voice brooking no argument.

As they lift you onto the stretcher, you cry out in pain, your grip on Zayn’s hand tightening. He leans down, his forehead brushing against yours. “I’m not leaving you,” he whispers fiercely. “Not for a second.”

...

The sterile white walls and fluorescent lights of the hospital blur as you’re rushed through the hallways. Every jolt of the gurney sends another wave of pain rippling through your body, and though the medics are speaking in calm, measured tones, their urgency is impossible to miss. You’re slipping in and out of consciousness, the world fading in flashes of light and muffled sound.

But Zayn never leaves your side.

He’s there, running alongside the gurney, his hand still clasped tightly in yours. His face is pale, his dark eyes wide with fear, but he keeps whispering reassurances, his voice steady and unwavering.

“You’re strong,” he says softly, his thumb brushing over your knuckles. “You’re going to get through this. Just hold on, love.”

When they wheel you into the trauma bay, a nurse gently tells him he has to wait outside. Zayn hesitates, his hand tightening around yours, as if letting go will mean losing you.

“Please,” he says, his voice cracking. “Take care of her.”

The nurse nods, her tone gentle but firm. “We will. I promise.”

He lets go, his fingers slipping from yours, and it feels like the ground is falling out from under him. Left alone in the hallway, he paces back and forth, running a hand through his hair as he tries to steady his racing thoughts. Every second feels like an eternity, the worst-case scenarios playing on an endless loop in his mind.

Finally, after what feels like hours, a doctor steps out. Zayn is at her side in an instant.

“She’s stable,” the doctor says, her expression calm but serious. “She’s suffered a fractured femur, two broken ribs, and a concussion. She’ll need surgery to repair the leg, but the prognosis is good. It’s going to be a long recovery, but she’s strong.”

The weight on Zayn’s chest lifts just enough for him to breathe. “Can I see her?”

The doctor nods. “She’s being prepped for surgery, but you can see her briefly.”

When he steps into the room, his heart twists at the sight of you. You’re lying on the hospital bed, pale and fragile, your leg immobilized in a temporary brace. The beeping of monitors fills the room, and an IV drips steadily beside you. But your eyes flutter open when he walks in, and the faintest smile touches your lips.

“Hey,” you whisper, your voice weak but filled with relief.

Zayn moves to your side, his hand finding yours again as he sits in the chair next to your bed. “Hey, love,” he says, his voice thick with emotion. “You scared the hell out of me.”

“I’m sorry,” you murmur, tears welling in your eyes. “I didn’t mean to—”

“Shh,” he interrupts, brushing your hair back gently. “Don’t apologize. None of this is your fault.”

You squeeze his hand weakly, your eyes searching his. “Thunder… Is he okay?”

Zayn smiles faintly, his thumb stroking the back of your hand. “He’s fine. A little shaken, but unharmed. He’s being looked after.”

Relief washes over your face, and your eyes close for a moment. “I was so scared…”

“So was I,” he admits, his voice breaking. “But you’re here, and you’re going to be okay. That’s all that matters.”

Before long, the nurses come to wheel you to surgery. Zayn presses a kiss to your forehead, his lips lingering as if he’s willing his strength into you. “I’ll be here when you wake up,” he promises. “I’m not going anywhere.”

...

The fog of anesthesia clings to you as you slowly drift back to consciousness. The world feels heavy and blurred, a haze of distant sounds and faint sensations. Gradually, the sterile light of the hospital room comes into focus, along with the rhythmic beeping of monitors and the faint hum of voices outside the door.

And then there’s him.

Zayn’s voice reaches you first, soft and full of quiet strength. “Hey, love… It’s me. I’m right here.”

You blink slowly, your eyes adjusting to the light. When you finally focus, Zayn is sitting at your bedside, his fingers wrapped tightly around yours. His face is etched with exhaustion, his dark eyes shadowed but filled with relief.

“Zayn,” you whisper, your voice hoarse and trembling.

He leans closer, his thumb brushing over your knuckles. “I’m here,” he murmurs, his voice raw with emotion. “You’re awake. Thank God.”

Pain tugs at your body when you try to shift, and you let out a soft whimper. His free hand immediately moves to your shoulder, steadying you. “Don’t move, love. Just take it easy. You’re fresh out of surgery.”

Tears blur your vision as the memory of the fall rushes back. “I thought I wouldn’t make it,” you admit, your voice breaking.

Zayn’s jaw tightens, his grip on your hand firm but gentle. “Don’t say that,” he whispers. “You’re here now. You’re safe. That’s what matters.”

Tears spill down your cheeks, and he leans in, wiping them away with tender fingers. “It hurt so much,” you choke out, your body trembling. “I couldn’t stop it… I couldn’t—”

“Shh,” he soothes, his forehead pressing softly against yours. “I know, baby. I know. But you’re so strong. You fought through it. And I’ll be here to help you fight through the rest.”

You squeeze his hand weakly, grounding yourself in the warmth of his touch. “I’m so scared, Zayn.”

His voice softens, and his eyes meet yours, steady and unwavering. “You don’t have to be. I’m not going anywhere. We’ll face this together.”

For a moment, the room is quiet except for the beeping monitors and your ragged breaths. Then, through the haze of pain and exhaustion, you whisper, “Will you… hold me? Please?”

Zayn’s eyes widen briefly, but his expression softens almost immediately. “Of course,” he says without hesitation.

He glances at the narrow hospital bed, his brow furrowing. “We’ll figure it out,” he murmurs, more to himself than to you.

Carefully, Zayn slips off his shoes and climbs onto the small bed beside you. He maneuvers himself with the utmost care, mindful of your injuries. When he finally settles in, he wraps an arm gently around your shoulders, pulling you against his chest. His other hand cradles yours, his thumb tracing soothing circles over your knuckles.

You let out a shaky breath, the warmth of his body immediately easing the tension in yours. “This… this helps,” you murmur, your head resting against his chest. The steady beat of his heart is more comforting than any drug.

Zayn presses a soft kiss to your temple. “Good,” he whispers. “Then I’ll stay like this as long as you need.”

His presence is a balm, the weight of his arm around you grounding you in a way nothing else could. For the first time since the fall, you feel safe—truly safe. Despite the pain, despite the uncertainty of what’s ahead, you let yourself relax in his embrace, your breathing evening out as sleep starts to pull you under.

“I love you,” you whisper, the words soft but full of truth.

Zayn tightens his hold just slightly, his lips brushing against your hair. “I love you more,” he murmurs. “Rest, love. I’ve got you.”

And with that, you drift into a peaceful sleep, his arms your shelter from the storm.

[intimidating-fettuccine]

Hello! Are you willing to do an Offerman x reader, where the reader is immortal since the 1550s and has a hard time getting close to others?

Hello! I'm writing this as though Reader is an immortal human, as it wasn't specifically mentioned, I hope that is alright! I hope you enjoy!

Homeboy is interested in you immediately. I've said before that Fen is drawn to interesting and unique people, and becoming immortal and being able to survive in the Underworld for sure makes you interesting in his eyes. However, as much as he wants to rush up to you and ask you a ton of questions, he takes his time and reigns it in. It's obvious to anyone around you that you seem anxious and shy around others, so he does his best to gradually worm his way into your life, like a true gentleman. He would start slowly, simply greeting you when you passed each other, and then working up to small talk, and then conversations, and then asking to hang out sometime. The plan is simple, but he executes it over a very, very long period of time so you don't get stressed out by it.

Once you finally accept Fen into your life, he's so excited by it. He does admire you for being able to survive so long (technically even longer than he's been alive in my canon), and I feel like he would have deep discussions with you about your life, events you lived through, thoughts about certain things that have happened. It can be hard for even demons to progress with times changing over hundreds of years, so he worries about if you were able to handle something like that. He truly wants to get to know you as well as he can, so he tends to be glued to your side like a lost puppy once he's allowed into your space. He continues to always respect your boundaries of course, and step in if necessary if someone else is disrespecting them, as he's grown to care about you so much, and he hates to see you uncomfortable. Once the two of you start dating, he sort of officially becomes your guard dog, always looking out for you and helping you in any situation should you need him to do so.

If you'd like to come out of your shell more, let people in besides just him, he's more than willing to help you get to know people, much like how he got to know you in the first place. I feel like he definitely introduced you gradually to his brothers and his mother at least, because family is so important to them, and they are also incredibly respectful of your boundaries. I feel like Fen is just a good buffer in general, and that he has this ability to make people relax and have a good time. However, if you'd like to live life without lots of company, that's also fine by him as well. You've already lived all these hundreds of years just fine, so he trusts your gut if you feel like you're doing alright, and you don't want to venture out of your shell any more than you already have. So long as he can continue to stay by your side, Fen is content to go along with anything you'd like. The Underworld can be an overwhelming place, and I can see him regularly checking in with you to make sure that you're doing okay. For someone like you to have become immortal can be a very rough experience, as not many mortal creatures can handle the change well, but you have made it this far just fine, and so he's proud of you. He's always proud to know that you allowed him into your life and that you allow him to protect you, and he will continue to do so for as long as you allow him.

[skybristle]

BENDING HORIZONS IS DONE!

my local group is done!!! short descriptions r below cut!!!! im so so excited guys omg. please ask abt them [also pls rb this took ages and im rlly proud of them!] toyhouse link here that also has full individual images!!! point out ur faves! im so excited to present them to you all [please like them please like them please l- /lh]

without further ado, here we go! in seniority [and image] order

Plunging Flows of Ash [PFA] - he/him [woman!!] He’s definitely winning his senior of the cycle award! He’s been pretty depressed and poorly functioning from the jump, but would often rely on his partner, Sparks, for help and support. When she’s in her darkest hour, and his privileges as senior are needed, he consistently fails to deliver despite her constant aid in return… and after the mass ascension, he just falls off the face of the earth, sleeping through his own depression even as his dysfunctional group desperately needs him. The catalyst for everything- as he fractured his group in two with his actions and fails to rise to their needs, and he has a chronic inability to accept his own wrongdoings and the fact things have changed. Associated Slugcat: The Colorburst Countless Swirling Sparks [CSS] - she/any Well known among iterators for her many, many methods of iteration and other inventions, Sparks was built with an unusually large [and haphazard] structure that she uses to its full advantage. Always with countless screens pulled up around her, always on some project, eating up her own escapism. She was failed by her creators long ago, but is so desperate to see her fellow iterators happy she keeps pushing on. In lieu of Ash, she has risen to a faux senior status - though lacking any powers to enforce her position. Only about half of the group [Ochre, Chimes, and Aurora] answer to her with any respect of authority- she has not been able to reach the others. Her resentment for her situation with her former lover is festering, and may explode violently once things go awry… Associated Slugcat: The Brainiac

Erupting Maw [EM] - she/her She’s fucking crazy!!! Worshiped as a god by her colony, she has not coped with their loss well. Originally seeking to replace the void left by their departure, she created purposed organisms to inhabit her city and later her can… but watching them rip eachother apart was simply so much more cathartic. She has full control! Her ego and disdain for other iterators as lowly in comparison only grows. Over the cycles, her can has become notorious for having some of the most deadly creatures. She’s an expert of bioengineering… but is the danger in seeking her aid worth it? Associated Slugcat: The Gladiator

Budding Ochre Opportunities [BOO] - she/flor Based on solarpunk aesthetics, flors city and can truly is a delight! With a colony full of roof gardens and brilliant colors, she herself has taken to turning her puppet chamber into a garden. Kind and compassionate, though cutting and assertive, she has made peace with her situation as an iterator and is just trying to live a good life. As flor adds to flors collection, she doesn’t consider any of it may posit a danger to her structure. But she would be at peace with that, too, if it were to occur. The only question is if those who care about her, such as her dearest Chimes, would be. Associated Slugcat: The Recon

Resonant Chimes [RC] - he/him He’s really just chilling, hanging out. No secret problems here, no deep-seated depression over the loss of his colony that he hangs onto, no karma flowers being poured into his puppet coolant just to feel something, none of that! Collecting music, friends with slugcats and scavs alike, having a good time. He’s surprisingly intelligent and has his morals more sorted than just about anyone here, but he’s held back by general apathy and his losses. Maybe, so many cycles detached from their creators, he won’t have to worry about losing anyone again. As long as he drinks the tea, he doesn’t have to think about it, and can pull himself closer to those below who left him. Associated Slugcat: The Gardener

Reaching for Caged Starlight [RCS] - she/it/ast Frustrated endlessly, as most iterators are, by being locked in a box, she’s determined to put an end to this. Not by ascension, though. She’s determined to free them from their cans- allow an escape from this maze. Ast wants to remove the puppet from the umbilical, in a manner where they don’t lose themself completely. Much easier said than done! Its undoing, however, is its cautious and methodical nature. She is too light on her feet to simply dare and cut the wire, let alone having the experience to snap the mechanical arm entrapping her. But, she has all the time in the world, and she will one day see the stars they made her mocking name after. They’ll all see. Ast will get there, by any cost necessary, even if her fellow iterators are disposable to this goal. Associated Slugcat: The Seamstress

A Glittering Aurora [AGA] - she/he Need some gossip? He’s your guy, all right! She burns her endless time away on global chats, basking in the amusement and the knowledge. A bit of a nuisance to her own local group, as she simply can not keep a secret, but… what happens when technology degrades, the message board is silent, he no longer can block out his circumstances,,, and the drama reaches a bit too close to home? Associated Slugcat: The Copycat Wandering Whispers [WW] - they/them A very quiet, lonely iterator, Whispers strays to themself. Only allowed to speak to their fellow iterators for shipments, or, occasionally, their senior for guidance, there were few connections for them besides to the one who vanished off the face of the earth. With their personality thoroughly destroyed by the iron fist of their colony, they simply… quietly observe. But they may hear something they’re not supposed to, and, desperate for a replacement for their mentor, lead themself astray. The road to hell is paved with good intentions, and they will glimpse the void in the end and take the plunge. Associated Slugcat: The Mercy

[yunarim]

「 ₊ ❤️‍🩹 dorm leaders with natasha-like reader 」

── ⋯ where's a doctor when you need one? ✧ rus ver (original) : here! ✧ characters : dorm leaders ✧ tags : female reader (she/her pronouns), fluff, slight mentions of injuries, reader kinda works part-time at NRC as a nurse, reader wields a gun but no violence mentioned (she just uses it canonically but i left only the part that she only has it in her property) ✧ note : might edit this later since i'm not quite satisfied with my own translation from rus but that's it for now

「 Riddle Rosehearts 」 ⏤ ⊹ Probably encountering such a friendly person for the first ever time during his whole lifespan.

⏤ ⊹ Perplexed by your behavior enough to actually spend some time to try figuring out what is it that motivates you to act so selflessly. There is no way you ask him whether he feels okay everyday just out of your free will? Right?..

⏤ ⊹ It's amazing how patient you are being with Ace and Deuce, given they can be pretty much to handle. 

⏤ ⊹ Realizes you are a ray of light in a dark realm. Honestly, is it even legal for you to be in the NRC among them, such ... malicious creatures?

⏤ ⊹ Once you told him that there are many people in the NRC who need your support. He did not even believe you at first, dismissively suggesting that you are deliberately shielding yourself in front of others in order to earn public recognition.

⏤ ⊹ Being the only girl and not having magical abilities in the college dedicated for gifted magicians... He wondered how you felt the moment you got here.

⏤ ⊹ His opinion changed dramatically the moment Ace and Deuce casually mentioned that after going to the mines to restore that ridiculously expensive chandelier, the one who cured their injures was none other than you. 

⏤ ⊹ Actually was strictly against of you doing anything medicine-related due to the fact he doesn’t even know you have a diploma, so that making you certified specialist.

⏤ ⊹ You: I had my own clinic in my world.

⏤ ⊹ Riddle: I beg your pardon?

⏤ ⊹ Apparently, that one nurse NRC had is fired by now PLEASE–

⏤ ⊹ Riddle wants to look up to you in order to be just as collected and patient as you are.

⏤ ⊹ During all the time you spend at NRC he never ceases to be amazed at how unwaveringly confident you are when some unexpectedly difficult situations occur, but at the same time you never lose your humanity and concern for others.

⏤ ⊹ Ready to take care of you when you forget to do it yourself – you are also a living human being who needs rest and care.

⏤ ⊹ He is not very good at expressing his emotions, so you don’t expect obvious actions and words from him, but get ready for the fact that he will often drop by (apparently) your infirmary with a pinkish hue on his cheeks, saying "Good afternoon ... Y-You're not breaking any rules, are you? Fine then... I tried to make tea according to your recipe, can you check if it's okay...?"

⏤ ⊹ You are always present as a nurse during when unbirthday parties are being hold in case someone gets sunstroke or gets hurt on rose thorns.

⏤ ⊹ If suddenly you know how to use this huge gun... how do you even lift it, it looks like it weighs three times more than you yourself?!

⏤ ⊹ Is this what they call alternative medicine?..

⏤ ⊹ Overall he sees you as an extremely caring mother figure ahem ergh uh older sister.

「 Leona Kingscholar 」

⏤ ⊹ The fact that you are a woman automatically sets you apart from these uncouth students.

⏤ ⊹ Before you have time to say anything, let alone even do anything, he sees the accumulated life experience in your eyes. Those eyes can’t lie.

⏤ ⊹ Actually, no one expects it but he treats you with an enormous amount of respect from the very beginning. It took Ruggie a few days to get used to the fact that Leona doesn't behave as he pleases when he sees you.

⏤ ⊹ And when you stumbled upon him and said that deep sound sleep is good for his health he even thought that maybe you were some sort of an angel.

⏤ ⊹ Sadly, happiness didn’t last long.

⏤ ⊹ You noticed that he sleeps way too much, and that time you started lamenting that excessive sleep can harm his brain activity and blah-blah-blah...

⏤ ⊹ However, you still found yourself carrying an orthopedic pillow every time you go to the botanical garden in order to collect some herbs, so you leave the pillow near the bench Leona usually sleeps on.

⏤ ⊹ In case you stumble upon a sleeping Leona while walking through the garden, you try to adjust his sleeping position so that his neck won’t hurt when he wakes up, and during these moments he simply tries to hug you or pull you onto his lap. 

⏤ ⊹ You see him as a big capricious kitten mainly but you still have a lot of work to do, so you carefully put him back and whisper something gentle with your soothing voice.

⏤ ⊹ Mentally chuckles smugly every time you make a very subtle remark about the political system in Afterglow Savannah (the only fact he trusts you enough to explain something about throne succession in his family is quite amazing itself).

⏤ ⊹ You won't notice it outwardly, but he is extremely grateful to you for the way you spend time with Cheka and tell him interesting stories about your world.

⏤ ⊹ He is sincerely proud of you. You are a wise, caring and patient woman. He doesn't even want to joke around with you as he usually does with everyone around him. You are too amazing.

⏤ ⊹ In case you use a gun... Seriously, do you have an endless facts list to surprise him with?

⏤ ⊹ Doesn't show it, but is concerned if it's hard for you to hold this colossus gun in your hands.

「 Azul Ashengrotto 」

⏤ ⊹ Truthfully speaking, he asked Jade and Floyd a couple of times if they can distract you so that you wouldn't sneak into his office and start lamenting how hard he works and how he needs to take a break.

⏤ ⊹ He was surprised that you were extremely attentive when he tried to make a shady deal with you, according to which you could potentially become a nurse in Mostro Lounge.

⏤ ⊹ Your attentiveness actually comes from the need to measure dosages extremely accurately, that he could understand, but he wasn’t prepared for the fact you would read the shady part written in a tiny font at the bottom of the document with the same meticulousness.

⏤ ⊹ After your refusal to work for him, the part about how your conversation turned into a discussion of the cost of renting the premises and how much Crowley screwed everything up remains unsolved...

⏤ ⊹ Why Azul ended up being the one fixing all the mess Crowley caused in the first place? How insanely hard it was to start running a business with instant losses, and not to mention!–

⏤ ⊹ What do you mean you made sea buckthorn tea.

⏤ ⊹ Actually Azul can’t even realize what does he feel every time he accepts your care. He believes he is unworthy of your kindness, but as a result he clings to it like a lifeline.

⏤ ⊹ He doesn't remember when was the last time in his life he felt so... valid? Has he ever been appreciated the way he is now?

⏤ ⊹ At first he assumed that your kindness extends to everyone indiscriminately, but got incredibly surprised when he realized that perhaps you pay a little more attention to him than to the others?..

⏤ ⊹ And you are definitely not stupid to waste your nerves on just, uh, anyone.

⏤ ⊹ Jade and Floyd are constantly mess with him that upon NRC graduation Azul should definitely lure you to work with them.

⏤ ⊹ In case you know how to wield that giant cannon... Uhm so care to get married after graduation?

⏤ ⊹ You're so cool, it's just unbelievable, please make him a soothing tea before his heart breaks his ribs and jumps out of his chest, alright?

「 Kalim Al-Asim 」

⏤ ⊹ Finally someone who matches his energy!

⏤ ⊹Kalim is the embodiment of sunshine, while you behave more in a patient way.

⏤ ⊹ But overall you two are NRC’s brightest sun rays.

⏤ ⊹ Kalim is constantly dropping by the infirmary to bring you something to eat (Jamil actually played crucial role in cooking all those things Kalim brought but still consider Kalim wasn’t doing nothing!! He spent sleepless nights trying to master making your favorite dish, so he could get you something to eat anytime you would want to!).

⏤ ⊹ You!! You are so tender with kids around you!! You are so amazing!!

⏤ ⊹ A couple of times he saw you outside the NRC telling different stories about your world to the kids in the park.

⏤ ⊹ Next moment you were already creating your own fairytales, completely dissolved in that natural coziness. 

⏤ ⊹ He gets amazed every time he spots you sorting herbs in the infirmary. How could you remember so many different names and medicine properties?..

⏤ ⊹ Consider yourself famous in his family, given how often he tells little facts about you during phone calls. Be also prepared for the fact that if you happen to go visiting his family you’ll be accepted as an Al-Asim new family member.

⏤ ⊹ The result: you help Kalim's parents with chores in the kitchen and with cleaning, not afraid of doing extra work at all.

⏤ ⊹ Sometimes you forget that Kalim is actually not a child anymore, and Jamil reminds you that you shouldn't spoil him too much, but you can't help but running your fingers through his tousled hair during rare breaks you have a meal or just go for a walk to sort your thoughts.

⏤ ⊹ Once he saw how tired you seemed after having a long work day and ran up to you, asking if everything was okay.

⏤ ⊹ You just smiled softly, saying that you were fine, it’s just after another overblot happens the wounds are always much more serious than minor abrasions and cuts.

⏤ ⊹ Kalim gently hugged you, declaring that this hug would serve as an energy boost for today.

⏤ ⊹ From that day on, Kalim asks Jamil to wake him up much earlier than he usually does in order to run into your office and give you a reassuring hug (he returns to bed for another twenty minutes sleeping right after, but let’s omit this okay-)

⏤ ⊹ Surprisingly, you feel better indeed, but you always make sure to not leave such a nice gesture go unnoticed, giving Jamil your hand-made fruit marshmallow so he would give it to Kalim.

⏤ ⊹ Kalim: happy.

⏤ ⊹ Everyone: happy.

「 Vil Schoenheit 」

⏤ ⊹ If you work part-time at the NRC infirmary, then he’s ready to go to Crowley to figure it out so that you get an immediate salary increase.

⏤ ⊹ He knows how important medical knowledge is, and yours is on another level.

⏤ ⊹ Would you like to join his agency? Or maybe even start developing your own brand of cosmetics, given how well-read you are and how well-versed you are in herbs.

⏤ ⊹ He wasn’t insisting when you refused but surprisingly for himself got a little upset.

⏤ ⊹ However this illusory feeling quickly left him as soon as you suggested making a few adjustments to his own cosmetics, and advised a mixture of herbs that could strengthen the effect obtained from Vil's cosmetics.

⏤ ⊹ If you have joint potionology classes he always tries to cooperate with you.

⏤ ⊹Highly respects such an incredible woman like you. Please consider it requires A LOT to earn the praise from the Vil Schoenheit himself, so you’re quite privileged.

⏤ ⊹ Always ready to din common sense in your enviers’s heads. How can anyone possibly believe that you are working for some imaginary benefit?

⏤ ⊹ A woman with such caring touches and boundless attention to her patients simply can’t be a fake, aiming for ephemeral titles or unwanted recognition.

⏤ ⊹ There are no ulterior motives in the way you sincerely offer Vil a few remedies to increase stress resistance and stimulate concentration during work.

⏤ ⊹ To some extent, he doesn’t fully understand why are you being so nice and selfless, but he never argues with you. He's not an idiot to even say anything against you (why would he though? You’re stunning).

⏤ ⊹ Often comes to you for your advice since he genuinely values everything you say.

⏤ ⊹ His words won’t help or encourage your if you suddenly find yourself in a difficult situation or just get tired at the end of the working day. However, he is the person who will convince you that you just need a proper rest. Vil definitely makes you tea, helps you do all night skin routine and makes sure that you fall asleep peacefully.

⏤ ⊹ Your cannon looks absolutely intimidating, maybe it's even better that you haven't had a chance to use it anywhere except for crushing especially hard and large-sized reagents in the process of making potions.

「 Idia Shroud 」

⏤ ⊹ Girl, what anime did you isekai from?

⏤ ⊹ To be honest Idia was simply scared when he saw you.

⏤ ⊹ He has never come across such piercingly sincere and caring person alive. Idia doesn't understand why you care about him so much in the first place.

⏤ ⊹ It's not like he grew up surrounded by love and care to realize how to accept such a sudden kindness.

⏤ ⊹ How did you even manage to stumble upon him when he literally does not go beyond his room?

⏤ ⊹ Ah, that's right... As soon as he thoughtlessly tried to pat Lucius, you noticed him on your way to the infirmary.

⏤ ⊹ He thought you were taunting him when he found a pack of kitten stickers on his bag, along with a small note that said “If you have time, stop by the infirmary, I would like to give you tea leaves that I dried myself. I heard your brother makes great tea.”

⏤ ⊹ NO WAY HE WOULD EVER–

⏤ ⊹ That day Ortho accompanied Idia straight to the infirmary, where he left his brother, humming some catchy pop song, and call it a day. The tips of his hair blazed with a delicate pink, and only the mischievous sparks flying off smoldered with ardent scarlet.

⏤ ⊹ For the first time he saw someone so mesmerized by his hair. Sure thing he stood out noticeably among people with this amusing feature of his, but he observed such a childishly genuine interest without a bit of malicious intent perhaps for the first time in his life.

⏤ ⊹ After a few more ‘trips’ to your infirmary, he came to conclusion that you are incredibly enduring. People usually either ignore him or make fun of him.

⏤ ⊹ You though, you never rush him, never force reactions out of him.

⏤ ⊹ Fortunately for him, the fact that you never force him to do anything against his will helps him demonstrate his gratitude slowly, but quite effectively.

⏤ ⊹ If you have any problems with the equipment, consider that they are no more, because Idia is always ready to fix anything or improve your equipment out of his own curiosity he got while working with you.

⏤ ⊹ At first when you tried to fix his completely shattered sleep schedule he resisted capriciously as if being an annoyed child.

⏤ ⊹ But you are not a simple woman to just leave it like that.

⏤ ⊹ No kitten stickers until he sleeps at least seven hours.

⏤ ⊹ It doesn't matter at all that Idia is rich enough to buy at least a whole factory for the production of those stickers–

⏤ ⊹ Now your so-called quarrels have become a kind of a local joke between you two.

⏤ ⊹ At first he got scared when he saw your cannon, but now he just wants to upgrade it, even though you insist that you won't shoot it without a need (and believe me YOU won’t ever use it on people bc why would you even do that okay?).

「 Malleus Draconia 」

⏤ ⊹ First, the very fact that you are not afraid of him is truly amazing.

⏤ ⊹ Second, just how discerning you are, given you straight up went asking him whether his horns hurt when he sleeps?

⏤ ⊹ You are extremely interested in how his body works from a medical point of view, since its physiological characteristics are very different from your understanding of how the human body works. However, Malleus is not a human at all, so your curiosity is understandable.

⏤ ⊹ People are usually horrified by him, or prefer to dissolve in contempt radiating from them. Malleus just chuckles, but he gets puzzled when he's talking to you.

⏤ ⊹ He doesn't quite understand how to respond to such a delicate display of genuine concern, but you're not rushing him anywhere, just asking him to take care of himself a little more.

⏤ ⊹ Once you asked him what could save him if the wounds would be extremely severe.

⏤ ⊹ Maybe he was too serious for answering ‘Your voice would be the best remedy for me’.

⏤ ⊹ He had to consult with Lilia what to do when something aching unbearably right there in his chest, and yet you smile softly at his answer and say that his reply is quite reasonable due to the fact that he is not a human being.

⏤ ⊹ Excellent, now you think that ordinary medicines will not help him (which is also true, but still), because he does not belong to the human race.

⏤ ⊹ However, he is in no hurry. If you’re being patient, then he’s enormously enduring. Why hurry when you have all the time in the whole dimension?..

⏤ ⊹ Will you be happy if he helps you heal all the people in the universe?

⏤ ��� Yes, that's right, it's impossible... And yet you selflessly devote yourself to your work, endowing everyone with a gentle smile.

⏤ ⊹ You two often talk about the differences between your worlds while your patients are sleeping.

⏤ ⊹ He learns how you make tea just by looking at your elegant light movements. Malleus is generally very observant, so his eyes are always focused on you. If he continues glancing at you like that, maybe the other students you look after will start spreading rumors that there is something going on between you two.

⏤ ⊹ Malleus is actually absolutely mesmerized by your voice and during those rare days when you have the opportunity to have your time alone with him somewhere outside the infirmary, he asks you to sing anything you would like to.

⏤ ⊹ A lullaby from your world is perhaps the best thing he has ever heard in his entire lifespan.

⏤ ⊹ What an incredible woman you are.

⏤ ⊹ You even know how to wield a cannon. In fact, he wouldn't want to test your abilities and is even glad that you don't use it at all.

© yushiiae 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬 𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐞𝐝. 𝐝𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐫𝐞𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭, 𝐜𝐨𝐩𝐲, 𝐦𝐨𝐝𝐢𝐟𝐲, 𝐨𝐫 𝐜𝐥𝐚𝐢𝐦 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐲 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤𝐬 𝐚𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐨𝐰𝐧.

[thepaperpanda]

Floral Hair Adornments || Ao’nung x fem!Omaticaya reader

Masterlist

Summary: You braid Ao'nung's hair, though at first he is hesitant about the idea. However, as you work on his hair, he comes to appreciate the result and is pleased with the outcome

Warnings: none

Word count: 1687

Author: Rouge

A/N: prior to reading, it’s important to know that: the reader is female Omaticaya ✤ today’s prompt: putting flowers in their hair

As a member of the Omaticaya clan, you had a deep respect for the ways of your people. When you joined Jake Sully and his family in the journey to the Metkayina clan as they fled to seek refuge, you knew that it would be a challenge to understand the reef clan customs.

____________________________

The air was thick with the sounds of the sea, the chirping of insects and the calls of strange animals echoing in the distance. As you made your way through dunes covered with lush unspoiled vegetation, you couldn't help but feel drawn to the coast.

The Metkayina clan was known for their love for the sea, and you were curious about their way of life. You had heard many stories about the reef people, about how they lived in harmony with the ocean and the creatures that called it home. As you approached the shore, you saw a group of young Metkayina men gathered around a fire, laughing and joking with each other.

One of them caught your eye. His name was Ao'nung, and he was the chief’s son. He was unlike any other Metkayina you had ever seen. He was brash and overconfident, always pushing his limits and testing the boundaries of his abilities. Ao'nung was also known for his arrogance and rough demeanor, and he had a reputation for being disrespectful to others.

As you approached the group, Rotxo, a close friend of Ao'nung, noticed you and leaned towards one of the other boys to whisper something. Soon, a burst of loud laughter erupted from the group.

Curiously, you asked, "What are you laughing at?" Though, deep down, you knew they were likely mocking your appearance.

"Look at her skinny tail, it's like a twig," one of Ao’nung’s friends said, gesturing with his hands.

"Yeah, and her legs and hands are so thin, useless," another chimed in, laughing while giving you a cold glance.

You tried to brush off their comments, but it left a sour taste in your mouth. You couldn't understand why they found it amusing to mock someone's appearance like that. “Ha-ha. Your current behavior is quite amusing. Were you not taught that making fun of others is impolite? Perhaps it's not something you can understand with your limited intellectual capacity, though…” You commented bitterly, slowly raising one of your brows.

As you spoke to him, the young boy felt his cheeks flushing with anger. How dare you pick on him, he thought. He clenched his fists and tightened his jaw, trying to hold back his emotions, but it was no use. "What's your problem?" He snapped at you, his voice laced with bitterness.

After glancing around and stopping your glance briefly at Ao'nung, you spoke up, "You started this, and there's no reason to be so unkind to me." You then turned and left, walking along the shore and letting the little waves bathe your blue feet, knowing there was no use in sticking around with young Metkayina boys. As you walked away from Ao'nung and his friends, you felt hurt and upset by their cruel words. However, you didn't expect to see Ao'nung following you shortly after.

"I'm sorry," he said quietly, looking down at the sand after lining up with you. "I didn't mean to hurt you. My friends can be harsh sometimes, and I should have stopped them."

You were surprised to hear him apologize, but also felt a sense of relief that someone from the group seemed to care. You replied, giving him a brief glance, saying "It's fine, really. I've gotten used to the mocking."

Ao'nung couldn't help but feel a sense of guilt gnawing at him as he reflected on his past behavior. He had been so cruel, mocking not only the way you looked but also Sully's siblings. He could remember the way you had looked at him, hurt and defeated, and he couldn't shake the feeling of regret. He knew that he had been in the wrong, and he wished that he could turn back time and make things right. The memory of your brief glance made him cringe, and he couldn't help but feel like a monster for making you feel that way. “Listen, Y/N, can we start all over?”

You stopped in your tracks and placed your hands on your hips, giving him a withering look. "Are you seriously asking me to forget everything that was said? You were absolutely horrible, not only to me but especially to Kiri and Lo'ak. But, I don't like to hold a grudge, so we can give it a shot."

Ao'nung turned to you, a glint of curiosity in his eyes. "Tell me more about yourself then," he said, a hint of eagerness in his voice.

You raised an eyebrow, slightly surprised by his sudden interest. "What do you want to know? And are you seriously going to leave your pals behind?"

"Everything, and yeah, I bet they can hang out a little without me," he replied, a grin spreading across his face. "What do you like to do? What do you dream about?”

You hesitated for a moment, not used to opening up to strangers. But there was something about Ao'nung's expression that made you feel comfortable, so you began to share your interests and aspirations.

As you talked, he listened intently, his eyes bright with fascination. It was a refreshing change from the teasing and mocking you had experienced earlier, and you found yourself warming up to him.

When you finished speaking, Ao'nung smiled. "You're really something," he said. "I hope I can get to know you better."

“Maybe,” you replied a little softer than you intended. As you walked along the dune near the shore, you couldn't help but admire the beautiful wildflowers growing in the sand. They were bright and vibrant, contrasting with the neutral colors of the dune. You felt a strong desire to pick some of them up and take them with you. You turned to Ao'nung, eager to share your admiration of the flowers with him. "Look at these flowers! They're so beautiful, aren't they?" 

Ao'nung glanced at the plants, but didn't seem to share your enthusiasm. "I guess they're okay," he said, shrugging his shoulders.

You couldn't understand how he wasn't mesmerized by their beauty. "Don't you think they would make a great decoration for our homes?" 

Ao'nung shook his head. "I think it's a little silly to pick flowers just for decoration. They belong here, in the wild, where they can grow and thrive."

You realized that he had a point, but you still couldn't help but feel a little disappointed. The flowers were just so lovely, and you wanted to take a piece of that beauty with you. "Can I braid your hair?" You asked suddenly, a little shyly.

Ao'nung's eyes widened in surprise, and then he burst out laughing. "Braid my hair? That's not necessary and a little ridiculous!" He exclaimed, rolling his eyes a little.

You gave him a look. "It's not ridiculous," you said. "You owe me something after all, for the mocking you used on me. And I would be happy to braid your hair, if you'll let me. Perhaps I could completely put the past behind us and give you the opportunity to know me better.”

Ao'nung hesitated for a moment, then he shrugged. "Fine, but don't expect me to like it."

You picked two plants and apologized to Eywa for picking them without a particular purpose. Then, you turned to Ao'nung and as he sat down on the sand, and knelt behind him, carefully undoing his hair and slowly brushing it with your long, thin fingers. You braided Ao'nung's hair with skill and precision, weaving the strands in a beautiful pattern. As you finished, you delicately placed the two flowers you had picked earlier into his hair, creating a stunning adornment. “There. It looks good! Check it out, if you want.”

Ao'nung was hesitant at first, not used to wearing flowers in his hair, but he trusted you and let you work your magic. When he looked at his reflection in the water, he was surprised to find that he actually liked the way he looked.

"Well, it's not bad, actually. It's a bit too feminine for my taste, but I'm sure my sister would have loved it. Tsireya enjoys decorating my hair with various types of adornments herself," he told you, smiling a little.

As you and Ao'nung were enjoying the view, a loud whistle caught your attention. You turned around to see Rotxo approaching, and as soon as he noticed Ao'nung's hair adorned with flowers, he burst into uncontrollable laughter, holding onto his stomach. "What the hell, Ao'nung! I had no idea that you preferred your hair to be so tidy!”

Ao'nung had enough of Rotxo's teasing about his hair, and he straightened up, fixing his gaze on him. "Enough, Rotxo," he said firmly, "It's called fashion, and if you can't appreciate it, that's your problem. I like it, and that's all that matters."

Ao'nung's words elicited a chuckle from you. It was surprising to know that he had an understanding of fashion, given he was portraying himself as a bad boy. "We should start heading back to the village, the eclipse is coming soon," you suggested.

Rotxo approached Ao'nung and attempted to adjust one of the flowers in his hair, but Ao'nung swatted his hand away with a loud hiss as he showed Rotxo his sharp fangs.

As Rotxo gave his friend's shoulder a little push, the three of you began making your way back to the village. "I wonder what others will say about your new look, Ao'nung," Rotxo pondered.

Ao'nung shrugged nonchalantly. "I don't give a damn."

As the three of you arrived at the village, the sky was already darkening, and the first signs of the eclipse were beginning to show. The air was getting cooler, and the wind had started to pick up. The village was abuzz with activity as people gathered to spend time with their loved ones.

Ao'nung turned to you and gave you a sly wink, and you couldn't help but feel a surge of excitement at the connection between you two and a sense of warmth and connection with him, despite the awkwardness from earlier. The eclipse was a beautiful and awe-inspiring sight, and you were grateful that the promise of a new beginning was on the horizon.

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

I just read through the Wish Upon A Star event for the first time and it's a nice heartfelt story! But hoo BOY do some things about this event feel unexpectedly heavier now with the context of Book 6 and what's currently out for Book 7, particularly with the Diasomnia boys ...

Wish Upon a Star was really nice for the Shroud brothers' story in hindsight! I wouldn't say the event has anything "essential" (you can still understand book 6 without seeing any of Wish Upon a Star), but it definitely adds extra context (like sprinkles on top of an ice-cream sundae!) and some vague foreshadowing to the upcoming main story happenings. (It helped a lot that both brothers were featured cards for this event; they could share the spotlight!) We learn some new information that is fundamentally rooted in what we already know of the Shroud brothers (ie Idia is into video games, Ortho is supportive of his brother) and how it all plays together in a grander narrative. Star Rogue was actually first introduced in this event as something important to Idia and Ortho's childhoods, which later becomes a recurring motif in book 6. The book even closes on Idia playing it with all of his new NRC friends (?). The legend of the Starsending itself, of course, refers to the story of Pinocchio, where a puppet turned into a real boy--a theme which eventually carries over to Ortho, the robot that gains humanity. Additionally, we get a more in-depth exploration of Ortho and Idia's relationship in Wish Upon a Star. We see that Ortho, despite being a robot who would easily be able to look up anything he doesn't understand, still has a child-like wonder about wishes coming true and even dedicates his own wish to hoping that his older brother's wish comes true. It's Idia who expresses a deep cynicism for the Starsending and acts like a buzzkill (pointing out that the stars most likely react to people's body temperature rather than light up in response to being whispered a wish). This reflects their behavior in book 6 too: Idia is the one who has given up hope, and Ortho is the one who seeks to help his brother's dreams come true.

I guess something similar applies for the Diasomnia boys? 🤔 Although to be fair, this event came out in summer of 2020 (when the game itself first launched in March 2020), so we didn't know a ton about the Diasomnia boys back then. A lot of what they said for their wishes would have easily been dismissed as just normal characterization, but it definitely comes off as more ominous knowing what we now know of book 7:

Sebek’s wish: “I wish for the whole world to kneel before our king.” WELL. You definitely got that wish granted, Sebek 😭 cuz all of Twisted Wonderland is about to kneel over in a deep sleep once Malleus’s UM spreads far enough… Sebek is pretty much always going on about how powerful Malleus is, but in book 7 it’s not so fun having to deal with that magic now turned against us and set on consuming the world.

Silver’s wish: “I wish… for my father to have a long life.” When we first heard of this, the assumption was that Lilia would outlive Silver?? Especially with how spry Lilia is portrayed to be… BUT THEN IT TURNS OUT 700 YEAR OLD LILIA’S MAGIC IS ON THE DECLINE AND HE WANTS TO GO DIE ALONE IN A FOREIGN LAND 😩 Silver also mentions during his wish segment that he owes a lot to his father and isn’t close to repaying him for everything he has done. This is a sentiment Silver shares again in book 7… in which he then proceeds to break down and cry in front of Malleus about those insecurities 😭

Lilia’s wish: “My wish is… for humans, fae, and all other species to live in harmony.” This one hits super different because right now we’re witnessing Lilia’s past self as a general actively fighting against humans and being suspicious of them. His present self is much more peace and harmony loving, even instilling in Silver a respect for all creatures and lecturing Malleus and Sebek for their sometimes ignorant behavior towards other races. He acknowledges the challenges that come with bringing together those from all walks of life, but he’s also the first to preach about how the importance of it. People may be weak alone, but they can come together like the threads on a spindle to become something stronger together. This is a testament to how much Lilia’s feelings and him as an individual have evolved over time. What’s even sadder is that when you read Lilia’s words, it definitely sounds like he’s reflecting on his unsavory past, and wishing for a better world for the future: “You've learned about […] all the countless tales of our failure to compromise, and the resulting conflicts? I have no desire to see such history repeated.” So he makes the same wish every year…

Malleus’s wish: “I wish for Roaring Drago (Gao-Gao Dragon-kun) to make a friend.” Gao-Gao makes his first appearance in Malleus’s Labwear vignettes, but becomes a more integral part of Malleus’s story in other materials, then culminates as a motif in book 7. The importance of this virtual pet cannot be understated in regards to its connection with Malleus’s understanding of human lives and change. Prior to book 7, we see Gao-Gao as something “like Malleus”—it’s alone, a dragon hatched from an egg. (One can say that wishing for Gao-Gao to have friends is a metaphor for how Malleus himself wants friends.) During book 7, the perception of Gao-Gao changes; now it is likened to Malleus’s loved ones. He fears them leaving, just like Gao-Gao does when he’s all grown up—and so Malleus justifies his extreme actions with the excuse of, “I want them to live a happy fantasy forever and ever, just as though Gao-Gao were with me for all of time”. It’s how Malleus rationalizes his actions and comes to understand others. What makes Gao-Gao and even more prominent symbol in book 7 is its ties with Lilia; as Malleus notes in his Starsending segment, Gao-Gao was a gift from Lilia’s travels… and Gao-Gao set to leave once it has fully matured, so, too, comes the painful reminder that Lilia set to leave soon. It puts more pressure on Malleus to act, to come up with some kind of solution for a “happily ever after”. It’s his way of keeping his friends with him… whether they want it or not.

[honest-moth-of-silver-grove]

Hi. I don’t know if requests are still open or not, but I was wondering if you could do some headcannons of Hector, Isaac, Alucard and Trevor helping their S/O through a panic attack??

If you feel uncomfortable writing this or if requests are closed please feel free to ignore this request. I hope you are well and staying safe 💞

Ask: Hi. I don’t know if requests are still open or not, but I was wondering if you could do some headcanons of Hector, Isaac, Alucard, and Trevor helping their S/O through a panic attack??

If you feel uncomfortable writing this or if requests are closed please feel free to ignore this request. I hope you are well and staying safe 💞

A/N: Requests are still closed as of right now, but this one made it in before that- I’m just a super slow tortoise when it comes to getting things done. (I think I’ve had like a year of writer’s block. That or it was just a major depressive episode… Who’s to say?) Anyways, onwards and upwards! Here is how I think Hector, Isaac, Alucard, and Trevor would help their S/O through a panic attack. I hope they're good, normally when I'm panicking I just let myself freak tf out lol

☮ ☮ ☮

Hector: 

Hector knows exactly what a panic attack is. Okay, well maybe he doesn’t know all the psychology behind it, but he’s had plenty himself, so he understands how overwhelming they can feel. 

He may not pick up on the fact that you’re having one right away if he’s preoccupied with making night creatures at the moment. But he’s also one to worry about you- he’s lost almost everyone he’s loved in some way or another, so he makes a point of checking in between every couple of creations. 

He’ll see your labored breathing, the fear in your eyes, or the way you bend your body in half and know immediately that something is wrong. He’s learned from observing your behavior: which words and movements mean you’re happy and which ones mean you need help. 

He’ll physically come over to you, and place a reassuring hand on your shoulder. If you’re in his workshop, or somewhere else that isn’t exactly an ideal calm spot, he’ll usher you- carry you even- if he has to, to a safer place where the two of you can sit quietly. 

If you’re okay with being touched, he’ll hold you close to him, placing one of his hands on the small of your back. Using the other, he’ll grasp one of your hands and bring it to his chest so you can focus on the rhythm of his heartbeat. 

He takes deep calming breaths and urges you to match yours to his. 

Once you're past the worst of it, he’ll leave you alone momentarily to go and make the two of you tea. The two of you can sip your tea and enjoy the company of your many adorable undead pets together. It may be unnerving to some, but to you, when you’re all together, it helps make the world look less intimidating. 

Isaac: 

Isaac doesn't panic often, or, well, ever to be quite honest. He used to be terrified as a kid, but now that he’s a man in charge of his own destiny, that’s all behind him. That doesn’t mean he’s unaware of your feelings or anything. As a matter of fact, he prefers the focus to be on your feelings so he doesn’t have to share his. 

The first thing he has you do is drink some ice-cold water, to help your brain shift its focus from your overwhelming feelings to the shocking and quite refreshing feeling of the cool liquid going down your throat. 

The second thing he does is rub soothing circles into the pulse points on both your wrists. He learned from an acupuncturist in one of his many travels, that these points, called the Great Abyss and the Spirit Gate respectively, are good pressure points to use in alleviating feelings of anxiety. 

Thirdly, he makes sure those in and around the palace respect your privacy. He ushers any passersby away and uses his night creatures to reroute people to ensure no one other than him sees you in this state. He doesn’t want you to feel negatively judged for having feelings, because he lived his life like that for so long and he knows how awful it is. 

Once you’ve reached the peak of your panic attack and begin to come down, he’ll ask if you want to talk about what triggered you in the first place. After all, he is the King of Styria now. If it’s something he can change in the palace, or in the way people work, you can bet he’s going to fix it for your benefit. 

If it isn’t something he or you can change, but rather something you have no other choice but to live with, he mentally makes peace with it and urges you to do the same. Yes, feelings of panic are scary and they mess up your entire day, but if this is a part of who you are, he doesn’t want you to feel in any way angry at yourself or at fault. People carry all different burdens, this one just happens to be yours. And Isaac is more than happy, to let you know, you don’t carry this one alone. 

Alucard: 

Alucard is pretty stoic most of the time, at least, he tries to be. He’s not used to vocalizing or expressing how he feels. Hell, he doesn’t even really know how to process all that he feels, much less share it. So it’s safe to say, being a knowledgeable and comforting presence is foreign to him. 

Greta and Sypha do end up teaching him a little bit, but you’re gonna have to be very honest and open with him going forward if you want him to anticipate your needs beyond eating and sleeping every once in a while.

You’d most likely come to him and tell him. Either with an “Alucard, I need you,” or even a whispered, “Help.” And he’d come running, like superspeed running, over to you. 

Are you hurt? Are you bleeding? He’s checking for blood. No blood! Okay, any bruises? No bruises! He’s going through the physical list when he notices the way you’re trembling, the way you keep grasping at your chest, and the way you keep shaking your head ‘no’. He soon realizes it's not that kind of injury. 

He takes you to your room and sets you gently on the bed. He asks you directly: what can he do, and what do you need? Whatever it is he’ll get it, or he’ll ask for someone else to get it, so he can stay there in the meantime and hold you. 

He lets you play with his hair, something he rarely does, to keep your mind occupied on something else. He’ll even shift into his wolf form if you’d prefer a big fluffy doggie to cuddle with. 

Stemming off of what he’s learned from Sypha and Greta, he reminds you how much he loves you, and how much you mean to him. He thinks you’re a wonderful person- brave and strong. Panic attacks don’t change that. And he’s not upset or even shocked- life is scary, and your guys’ life has been very scary. 

Basically Alucard just wants you to know that even though he isn’t an expert at emotions, he’ll stay by your side, throughout it all. 

Trevor: 

Trevor actually used to have panic attacks a lot as a kid, but back then he had his family to help him through it. After they were taken from him, he shut down emotionally- something he needed to do to survive. So now, his emotional IQ isn’t the greatest. That doesn’t mean he’s not observant though. 

Being a trained monster hunter, he’s good at reading people. He can spot fear or aggression from a distance, and he’d definitely be able to sense panic in you. 

He would want to make sure the two of you are in a place and position for you to freak out freely, preferably away from prying strangers’ eyes. It’s not that he’s embarrassed, he just wants the two of you to feel safe enough to calm down, and it’s hard to do that with a bunch of judgemental eyes on you. 

Trevor’s priority is safety: so once the two of you are clear of people (or night creatures), he turns his attention to you. He instructs you to take deep breaths: in through your nose and out through your mouth- he remembers reading something about that in one of his family’s books a long time ago. 

If you’re not too hot, or in the middle of an anxiety-driven hot flash, he’ll offer you his coat/cloak to grip on or to cocoon yourself in. If you choose the former, he’ll place a reassuring hand on your shoulder, and practice his breathing with you. If you prefer the latter, he’ll pick your wrapped-up form and cradle you in his lap. And he’ll tell you stories from a happier time in his life- something he doesn’t share with anyone other than you- to distract your mind. It’s his way of being vulnerable with you. 

Trevor knows he comes off as stony, bitter, and just completely over-it in general, but he never wants you to think he feels that way about you. He loves you, and he prides himself on his ability to protect you and keep you safe. You’re his family now. He’s going to stick through it all with you- thick and thin. 

He might even softly sing some of the old Romanian lullabies his mother used to sing to him. But that’s only if you’re really, really panicked. Once you start teasing him about how he’s really just a big softie, he knows you’re going to be just fine.

[oceansssblue]

100 CELEBRATION – PROMPT 7. MERMAID AU

TECH/ FEMALE READER 💖

WARNINGS: This story alternates between reader's and third person (Tech'ish) pov. Seahorses can survive in cold temperatures in this fic because I say so. Fleeting mention of mer-child abandonment. Very tiny non-graphic shark attack. Otherwhise fluff, fluff and fluff!

Note: this is my third time –second for Tech– writing mermaids for our clones! In this one-shot, both Tech and female reader are mermaids, though from different sub-species. Hope you like it, let me know!

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Below the surface, where the world is a myriad of blues and different marine kingdoms coexist, there are two subspecies of mermaids. Shallow mers mainly live in lakes and ponds; the few that not, never wander too far away into the cold, dark depths of the ocean. Their thin, iridiscent scales are more suited for warmer temperatures; while the thickness of the deep-water mers allows them to travel surprising distances down where the sun can no longer reach. Deep-water mers have strong powerful tails and sharp canines and claws that turn them into dangerous predators; shallow mers, though agile and fast, aren't a comparable threat.

You've never seen one of them.

You've heard the stories, of course; heard of their aggression and how they lurk in the darkness to hunt any poor creature that has dared to enter their waters alone. You've seen the scars that their claws and bites have left on some of your people; deep marks carved deep into scales and skin. They've appeared on your nightmares –when you were nothing but a kid–; bubbles tinged with the scarlet red of your blood. Everyone shares the same opinion about them; they're hostile, dangerous, and you should never, never, never, get close to any of them.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

It's a beautiful day. Rays of sunlight reflects the water in a way that makes it sparkle; almost as if thousends of tiny stars had fallen into it. The ocean is cold enough for a dive into it to feel refreshing; but not as much as to bring unpleasant shivers to your skin.

You spend most part of the morning exploring the reef and curiously observing different types of starfishes around the corals; pausing here and there to play with the ocasional mischiveous octopus or angry crab. After so many years living in the sea, you know by now when to interact with them and when to give them space; and you are very careful of respecting the sealife around you. It's a delicate balance for all of you to live in peace.

After a small but satisfying lunch you make your way to your best friend's home; a tiny seahorse you've long decided to name Yellow. Basic, you're aware; but well, your friendship started many, many years ago, when you were finally getting the trick on how to properly swim. When your mother left you. Once a shallow mer gives birth, the mother takes care of her child until the newborn has adquired the knowledge on how to survive on it's own; then, they follow different paths, so the young mer learns to face the difficulties of the ocean on it's own. If he's strong enough, he'll push through; and one day he may reunite with others and close the cycle with a child of it's own. Perhaps for some it may seem like a cruel thing; but that's how it has always been, how your subspecies still exists today. It's a solitary life; but there are so many unexpected places to find friends.

Yellow's home consists in an almost complete circle of redish and orange corals not too far away from the water's surface. There's a lot of plancton in this part of the reef; so it makes sense for the small seahorse to have settled here. He's as chirpy as always to greet you; swimming excitedly around you before anchoring his tail to a strand of your multicoloured hair. You chuckle at the thought of it looking almost like a tiny seatbelt for your hipocampus friend.

"Good afternoon, dear Yellow" you tell him affectionately, the knowledge that he doesn't understand your language never detering you into chatting with him. "What shall we do today, mm?"

You like to go on little adventures with Yellow; explore new parts of the reef or perhaps make new acquaintances together. He's a little energetic thing, and so adorable you never get bored with him.

"Wanna' try to find some parrot-fish?" You propose, and he moves his tiny dorsal fin in agreement.

He may not get your every word; but he can read into the way you move and talk. By the tone of your voice, he knows you're offering some exploring. If he didn't feel like it and he'd prefer to stay closer to home, he'd have let you know by staying completely immobile.

"Mision parrot-fish it is. Hold on to that seatbelt" you smile happily, and slowly begin to swim.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

In the end, your innocent trip turns to be a heartbreaking disaster; an encounter with a triaenodon shark has an unexpected outcome. They're usually pacific creatures, but the blood slowly trickling from one of it's sides has evidently scare the animal enough to react agressively at the posibility of a second predator going in for the easy kill. You've got no time to try to difuse the situation; as the wounded shark inmediately lurches for you. A terrified Yellow abandons the now precarious cover of your hair; releasing air to quickly let himself sink into the ocean and away from the fighting scene.

It's a game of swim-dodge-redirect from there. Finally, to your relief, the shark exhausts herself and decides to cautiously leave; and panting, body aching from the effort, you let out a long sigh of relief. The terrifying part of the encounter isn't the minor wounds you now carry on your skin; not even the fear and adrenaline. No; the real scary part is that Yellow is nowhere to be seen, and you can't seem to find him after an exhaustive search.

Tears in your eyes at the thought of losing your tiny best friend, you continue swimming downwards in the direction you knew he escaped to; so anxiously focused on finding him you don't even notice the way the water darkens around you and the increasing cold that freezes your skin.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

"Yellow!" You call him in a happy cry when you finally get sight of him.

In just two quick ondulations of your tail you're floating right next to him; and the little seahorse inmediately goes to hide on your hair.

"Oh, Yellow" a tear finally manages to roll down your cheek. You talk to him in a hushed, tender whisper. "I was so worried for you! I thought I was never going to find you! Oh, dear friend, I think we're gonna' have to take a break from exploring for a while..."

You're so overwhelmed by being reunited with the small hipocampus that you don't even notice the way he seems to shrink away; and tug insistently at your hair. You don't even realise you're not alone anymore until you hear the sound of something big moving too close to you in the darkness of the water.

Fear instantly spreads through your body, and you tense scanning the ocean around you. It's then when you noticed that fuck, you're deep; the cold almost unbearable and your eyes having trouble adjusting to the lack of sunlight. You don't see the creature lurking until it's right in front of you.

It's a deep-water mer.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Tech curiously observes the mer interacting with the tiny hipocampus. She's nothing like he has seen before. There are so many differences between them that the deep-water mer can't help but put a stop in his journey back home to study her. It's highly unusual to find one of them here; it's too cold, too dark, and their bodies aren't enough adapted to be permanently exposed to the depths of the ocean.

Tech has never come across a shallow mer before. Their subspecies live in different layers of their wide acuatic habitat; and shallow mers are incredibly timid, elusive creatures, always opting to flee without further questioning than to expose themselves to any danger. He can understand that; evolution hasn't gifted them with the same resources as deep-water mers. For the rumours he's heard, Tech knows shallow mers lack of pointy canines and their thick, resistent skin; tail also smaller, thinner, and less powerful than theirs. While the shallow mer subspecies had slowly adapted to a tranquil, mostly uneventful life on the surface, deep-water mers had had to perfectionate their hunting techniques; and any useful fighting traits had been inherited through generation after generation to what they are now.

Tech can't really understand her words; they sound similar to their language, though in a higher, more melodious register. Still, he can read the relief and melting worry in her body; the way she seems to sag upon finding the small yellow seahorse, who quickly hides in her hair. Tech observes them curiously; are they... friends?

She has a small heart-shaped face; her big expressive green eyes, plush lips, and button nose giving her an innocent look. Streaks of blue, green, red and yellow paints her long half-braided hair without an apparent order; perhaps trying to imitate the vibrant colours of the corals of the reefs above. Two pairs of small thin fins protrude from the tragus of each ear; probably vestigial and without real function. Her skin is much paler than his; and while deep-water mers have dark blue and black scales, colours shared as well with the tail, shallow mers apparently carry a very different canvas on their body. The scales on her upper chest begins with the same pale tone of her human skin, and transitions to a mint and persian green towards her tail. Tech notices it's much smaller and narrower than his; the flukes aren't as pointy, and there isn't a stinger at the end. It's a mix of the previous greens and some darker emerald colour as well.

Tech's own colours mostly mimetizes him with the depths of the ocean; but even with that advantage, he has remain staring for too long to pass completely unnoticed. At least by one of the two creatures barely twenty feet in front of him; the hipocampus trying to alert her fellow distracted friend.

Tech can tell when she exactly realises they're not alone. Her whole body tenses; eyes quickly scanning the water around them. They pass right over him once; then, her frightened gaze returns to his figure and transforms into terror. She freezes staring at him.

Tech understands her fear; it's only sensitive. She can barely see him from this distance in the depths of the ocean; his blue-black tail dissappearing in the darkness. Tech realises right then that, as much as he has heard stories of shallow mers been shy, mostly innocent creatures, it's possible she has heard stories about them as well; and by the mers reaction, Tech can guess the ones about deep-water mers aren't as pretty.

Still, Tech's endless curiosity hasn't been extinguished after one brief examination; so he very slowly aproaches her until they're nothing but three feet apart from each other. Tech's attention is again redirected to the creature's hair; the small underwater currents softly moving the few colourfull strands that escapes her braid in a half halo around her head. Up close, it holds an almost iridiscent hue; and Tech reaches a clawed finger to carefully trace a strand up and down, enthraced. His eyes scan the shallow mer again, and Tech has a sudden realisation that surprises himself; she's pretty, and he's so confused and lost at his own thoughts he can't do anything else but blink at her. There's endless beauty in the ocean, he has admired it countless of times before; and yet, no creature had personally called to his desires and perception of attraction like this.

Lost in his silent pondering, it takes Tech a few minutes to realise the level of stress the poor creature is experiencing at his presence. The shallow mer is uncontrollably shaking; eyes shut tight and heartbeat speeding at such a pace Tech can hear it in the quietness of the ocean. He had asumed she'd understand he meant no harm by now; but clearly there's another million options that are passing through the mer's mind, and Tech decides to give her space.

Upon the swoosh of his tail, the shallow-mer carefully opens her green eyes again; analysing him in what feels like an eternal second. Tech does his best in appearing relaxed and non-threatening.

The silent mutual observation lasts ten more seconds or so; then, the shallow mer makes an abrupt turn and sprints in a fast swim upwards, clearly running away. Tech can't help but feel dissapointed; but even if he's mostly sure he could catch up to her with a bit of effort -and something inside of him saddens at the thought of never seing her again-, he decides the best course of action is to let her go.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

You return to the reef and give your goodbyes to Yellow in a blurred daze. Once alone, the adrenaline of your friend's dissapearance and the encounter with the deep-water mer drops down; and you feel so exhausted and drained you inmediately curl up in the safe, hidden space between the rocks you call home.

That night you go to sleep thinking on him; on how unfairly stronger and powerful he looked with his sharp claws and muscled tail. It's a fitfull dream at first; though as the night advances and the fear grows distant, other details come to light. You suddenly remember his mesmerising amber eyes; how soft his bronze skin looked, tone much darker than those of shallow mers. The colours of his tail, so different to hers; a navy blue mixed with black, with just a hint of details in faded white and cyan. The impresive width of his two tail flukes and the sharp stinger in between. He made a fine mer.

The abrupt thought rips you of your light slumber. You wake up, panting in surprise. Surely you can't find the predator that almost made you have a heart attack atractive, right? He could have killed you; you'd like to think you're a bit more intelligent than that.

But he didn't.

The tiny little thought crawls like an unexpected visitor into your mind; and then, you can't think of anything else. He could have killed you, hurt you, but he didn't. Why?

At first you thought he was going to attack you. When you first felt his dangerous clawed hand reaching for you, you had shut your eyes in terror, waiting for the inevitable doom to come. Claws and canines biting and tearing delicate skin. But nothing had happened; nothing further than a... Could you call that a caress? Was that it?

Now, away from the danger and with your head in a clearer state, you picture the encounter again in your head. You try to remember the expresion on his face; realising there was more genuine, innocent curiosity than vicious agression. And he hadn't even tried to chase you when you had swam away. Could he hold the simple gentle curiosity for you you felt for the smaller creatures you often explored in the reef? Would he... Would he not attack you if you came across each other again?

It's a dangerous thought; and when the new day starts, you can't seem to quieten it inside your head.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

A rush of electrifying excitement zig-zags through Tech's body upon identifying the creature swimming in the distance. He interacts with orcas and whales enough to know the figure is somewhat unique; at least in this depths of the ocean. He hovers in place, patiently observing. He doesn't want to scare her away like last time. What is she doing down here again?

Tech scans the dark water in search for the hipocampus. He had the impresion the shallow mer had followed the small animal here last time; perhaps the situation has repeated itself. After a quick eye-search, though, he brushes the posibility away. She came her on her own. Why? There's no reason why a shallow mer would have to swim this deep.

Tech notices the way she swims in short bursts of energy and how her eyes constantly flicker around; like she's stubbornly looking for something. If not the hipocampus, what could that something be?

It has to be him.

It's the most logical answer; and yet, some part of Tech refuses to believe it, perhaps because he doesn't want to be hurt and dissapointed if it isn't. With a mix of hope and waryness, the deep-water mer swims towards the visitor; slowly announcing his presence to her.

The shallow mer's eyes widen in surprise; just a hint of fear and caution taking a grip on her. She doesn't make any move to run away, though; instead, she floats in place and stares.

Tech resists the urge to get closer and greet her, swim around her and gently brush his tail with hers as he does with his family. He doesn't want her to flee; so he patiently waits for her to make the first step.

Almost as if understanding this, the shallow mer flicks her flutes and cautiously shortens the distance between each other. Coming to a stop in front of him, she takes a deep breath; then, a high melodious voice breaks the silence of the ocean around them. She's talking to him.

Tech's inmediate surprise must be visible in his face. Frowning, he tries to make a sense to her words; but he doesn't get the full meaning of it, just an impresion of what she's saying. Tech thinks -or wants to believe- she's greeting him.

The shallow mer sighs quietly. Observing him for a few long seconds, she makes a move forward; a trembling hand extending towards Tech's face.

He tenses; not a product of fear. She doesn't have claws like him; Tech doesn't think the shallow mer can hurt him much with her bare hands. It's more of a wary reaction. He doesn't know what she wants; and the thought of her touching him admitedly sends a sort of carefull expectation to his body. Tech has shared a few kisses here and there with a female friend from another pod of deep-water mers; but it was sort of an agreement for them both to experience the situation together, and not out of real desire or attraction. Now, this mer... Not knowing where she stands, what her intentions are, being unable to talk to her about it, makes him nervous.

Breathing heavier and without tearing his eyes from her face, he let's her be. He shivers when he feels her soft fingertips playing with his hair; closing his eyes involuntarily before watching her with surprise.

She shows him a shy smile and then repeats the gesture in her own hair; exactly like he had done the day before. It's like she's trying to tell him something with it; and Tech flushes finally comfirming she came back because she's curious about him as well.

Tech nods; and calling his courage, he repeats the gesture on her. This time she just observes; she doesn't flinch.

It's a game of reconnaissance from there. They curiously study the other, hands no longer touching in order to try to respect their space; sometimes asking for a better perspective or trying to ask questions with mimics along the way. At one point, she opens her mouth and points with her index at his teeth, tilting her head. Tech answers showing her his sharp canines, and the shiver she gives him this time is clearly a joke, paired with an entertained smile. Tech chuckles and nods. They could look scary, he supposes. The deep-water mer makes a "no, no" sign with his hands before pointing back at her; indicating a clear "i'm not going to hurt you". The open, friendly smile she gives him is blinding.

They spend almost an hour interacting with each other. When she finally points upwards, signaling her need to return to the surface, Tech feels an instant urge to keep her with him a little longer. He knows he can't, though, shouldn't; perhaps she has other things to do.

He makes a "wait" sign and -upon her nod of acceptance- quickly dives down in the ocean; tail moving powerfully in order to take him to his home as fast as possible and back.

When he returns, he's got a mix of algae and zebrafish crushed scales in his left hand. Zebrafish are an incredibly species; they can regenerate a whole fin amputation and their own heart damage. It's one of the most interesting creatures Tech has spent his time studying.

He tries to convein this to her, his voice gentle and calm while he tries to represent his explanation with his spare hand. She frowns, completely lost at first, glancing down at the mix in his hand and back at his face. Then, he tries to draw a starfish with his index, and upon poiting to the still angry wound on her side and shoulder insistently, an "oh" of understanding washes over her expression. She nods with an appreciative smile.

Tech's hovering so close to her now that he can feel her breathing pattern in front of him; the tiny change of the water movement when it passes through her gills. Tech has them at both sides of his pectorals; while her's are positioned a bit lower, towards the end of her rib cage.

He studies her wounds with critical eye, wondering what could have caused them. There's a few scratches here and there; probably produced by the drag of skin against rocks and corals. A bigger one on one of her sides above the beginning of her tail looks like a shark bite. None are deep or particularly worrying; but Tech knows they must hurt, and if he can help her, he will.

Tech swipes some of the mix in two fingers and gently presses them against the indents of the bite. The shallow mer hisses in pain, her body reflexively trying to shy away; but he makes a soothing sound with his voice and the mer looks at him, breathing through it and regaining awareness of herself. She stays patiently put while he helps her.

Heartbeat speeding inside his chest, Tech slowly dares to trace the pad of his thumb over the scratch on her cheek. He knows the minor wound needs no medicine, it's already healing on itself; but he can't keep his hands to himself. She's beautiful; expresive eyes and cute nose, colourful hair and a elegant, delicate body he wishes he could further explore.

She shivers; but the deep-water mer doesn't detect any fear from her, can't smell anything of the sort in the ocean around them. Her eyes lock with his; and even if no words are exchanged, Tech can't help but feel there's some sort of silent conversation there. Wonder, desire, caution. A longing reflected in the other mer.

The moment has stretched too long, and Tech drops his hand back to his side. He nods, signaling that his work is finished; that she's free to go now if she wants to.

The shallow mer doesn't take her eyes off of him. Tentatively, almost as if testing his boundaries, she grazes her tail with his in a gentle, thankful gesture. Tech's aware that the gesture could be considered flirting in their species; and blushes slightly.

He hears her soft chuckle. Then, she swims up and they grow apart again.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

You grow fond of him. It's easy to do so, really; once the frigthening first impression is out of the way, you can see further than that, and every small thing you discover about him apeases you more and more as weeks pass by.

The first few days are just more of those cautious, curious interactions. As you slowly get used to the others presence, you both start to grow more relaxed and playful; Tech –his name is one of the first things he teaches you– eventually inviting you for a long swim, and you happily accepting. You can't help but observe the way he moves; the power and strength in his long blue tail, mesmerised. When he catches you gawking, a tiny satisfied and knowing smirk makes it's way to his face; and though you inmediately look away, embarassed, you can't help but think it looks good on him as well.

A month after your first encounter you ask him to follow you to the surface. You know it's not ideal for him, his scales and skin too thick to cope with such warmth for long periods of time; but you know he'll be okay for a couple of hours, just like you are able to cope with the depths of his comfort zone. Tech nods curiously and explores with you every inch of the reef just like a kid. It's him who stares at you enthraced this time; marvelling at the way the sunlight flickers off of your iridiscent scales, at how shiny and bright the greens become. When you glance at him in confusion as to why he had stopped, wondering if he felt tired, he stares straight at your eyes and whispers one of the few words he has learned in your language.

"Pretty".

It makes you blush and internally swoon for him. You answer with a radiant smile and quickly peck his cheek before swimming away. Tech looks at you in surprise before moving to catch up with you. He affectionately rubs his body against yours as he does and passes by.

He takes you to meet his pod. You're not going to lie, the first fears and doubts about Tech resurface with the intimidating group of deep-water mers; your instinct screaming at you at the obvious disadvantage, at the danger, encouraging you to run away. But Tech –sweet, intelligent Tech– inmediately notices it; and reassures you by constantly standing by your side and giving soft caresses to your hands and back. It helps that his family is openly friendly and accepting; with the exception of Crosshair. Tech brushes his reaction aside, telling you it's normal of him to behave like that. You hope you will grow on him with time.

The way they live, play and hunt is a spectacle to see and experience. Tech tries to give you a thorough explanation on why and how deep-water mers had had to learn and adapt like that; though with the small bunch of words he has managed to learn by now and his irrepresible excitement it's hard to follow him. Tech's patient, though, and you're curious; so with a bit of effort, you both make it work.

After his quiet, surprisingly normal and easy inclusion to his family, you take him to meet Yellow. You point at the small sea horse and tell him two words –"Friend. Pod"–; Tech's amber eyes filling with some sort of melancholic understanding before he's fiercely hugging you towards him. You tremble in his arms and press your forehead against the side of his neck, breathing him in; you haven't had this kind of contact in so long –it has been years since you last came across one of yours–, and it feels so devastatingly comforting you fear you'll grow addicted to it.

Your heart clenches when you see him interacting with Yellow. He's so big, and your friend so tiny; it's an adorable sight, and the way the seahorse quickly warms up to him and the mer gently treats him is simply adorable. With a fond smile on your face, you realise you're starting to fall in love with him.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

One of those nights when Tech can't help but feel alone, even with the knowledge that his pod is sleeping not far away from him, the deep-water mer follows his heart and thoughts and swims upwards towards the sky; towards where the stars seem to fall into the ocean. He knows his way around the reef by now; and with his speed, he's soon carefully peeking his head into the circle of rocks you sleep in and call home. You're curled up in yourself; arms crossed hugging your stomach. You look so small and vulnerable it tugs at the strings of his heart; and Tech carefully swims into your space and lays by your side.

The carefully brush of a tail against yours wakes you up; your gasp quickly growing silent when you realise it's Tech besides you. You look at him in surprise, quietly questioning him; and he answers in small melodious words in your mother tongue.

"Alone" he points at her, then at himself. "Worry. Miss".

You sigh and eliminate the tiny distance between your bodies, melting onto him.

"Miss you too" you whisper against his neck, tightening your embrace.

Tech hums happily and curls his tail around yours, softly caressing your hair. After a few minutes of memorising his embrace, when you stop hiding in his neck and glance up at him, he gently holds your chin in his grasp; amber eyes shinning with an unusual intensity.

"Love" he whispers delicately in front of your lips.

Your breathing hitches. Is he really telling you...?

Tech kisses you; a soft, reverent press of lips on lips that brands your soul with his name. It draws a sleepy, content sigh from you; and you answer him dreamily.

"I love you too, Tech".

You've finally found your mer.

THE END.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Tara! This one was so sweet, hope you' ve liked it, I love merfolk so fucking much!

Next up; prompt 8 with pirate!Hunter !! It might take me a little longer as I'm going on a trip with my friends soon.

Please, interact in tumblr! Wether if it's with a like, reblog or comment, it really helps the community to stay alive and personally make one feel more happy and appreciated. Can't deny I've felt a little ploff about it lately. Don't be a ghost, I promise I'm nice! ;)

See you in the next one. Take care.

Xx,

Blue.

Back to main masterlist here:

[maisonaime]

Ilithyia's Blessings

I got Covid-19 as a college graduation/early Christmas present :) enjoy the fruits of me being stuck in my parent's basement.

Summary: Rewrite of Feyre's reaction to finding out about the risks of her pregnancy! I (like many) hated how this was dealt with, and would personally love to see her rip the entire IC a new one for that bullshit. Diverges from canon the moment Nesta leaves the townhouse. Heavy angst and hurt for all, BUT a happy ending! Please note that I am atrocious at writing dialogue so forgive me.

Warnings: Pregnancy complications, family dysfunction, mentions of past trauma, emotionally abusive & generally unhinged behavior from all!

Part 1:

As the last of Nesta’s burning fury trailed out of the door after her, Feyre’s eyes once again met Amren’s. The tears there had turned sharp as glass shards. Power imbued with the abundance of life nestled in the High Lady choked the air of the townhouse, damp and salty and so very wrong. They had been so very wrong. 

Amren did not falter, but her stance was one of false ease. She had never wished so badly to be well-versed in the nuances of emoting and made a note to herself to observe her peers' reactions more closely; that she might glean some useful mimicry for a similar situation in the future. A creature of preternatural stillnesses and pregnant silences, Amren waited until Feyre spoke in a voice so deep it may have been derived from the pits of the Mountains themselves. 

“How long have you all known?” 

“You should really ask your ma–” bared teeth cut her off.

“I asked you Amren. How long?” Feyre snarled.

It was becoming uncomfortable to breathe, reminiscent of the cloistered air of the Prison. Amren was struck with the sudden realization that her powers were no match for her High Lady, not anymore.  

“Too long” she admitted unflinchingly. “I will apologize for my part in it, but Rhysand had his reasons and I saw the practicality of it. As your friend, I know it was wrong. You must understand Feyre, I have to be the one person who can separate emotion from decisions in this Court, it’s my first nature and my duty as Rhys’ second.”

Feyre just stood there, eyes wide, breathing hard. Her tattooed hands still clutching her stomach as though the babe would rip its way into the world for all the horror she felt in that moment.

“Has it ever once occurred to you…” – her voice burned through the condensed ether like the birth of a star, Amren winced – “has it ever once occurred to any of you, that when Rhys made me High Lady, he made me High Lady of this Court, not just his High Lady. I am High Lady of the Night Court, I am your damn High Lady. And if you Amren are his second, then you are also mine.”

Tiny ancient one be damned, she needed backup for this. She only prayed Varian had the good sense to bring Elain back to the townhouse, no one else would do any good for this moment. 

And to think I was lecturing Nesta on respect.” she seethed. “To think that I’ve put up with this ridiculous sequestering of my family by my family. Elain and Nesta are flailing as they grapple with bodies and lives they were born and bred to fear, just as I did. We treat Elain like a vapid flower as if she is not burdened to see between fucking worlds. And you all act as though Nesta’s viciousness will tear chunks out of me but you forget she is my sister. I have known her my whole life and she has not torn my throat out yet. Vicious she may be, but at least she’s godsdamn honest.”

“No one is denying this Feyre but I don’t see–” 

“What this has to do with me? With my child? There’s plenty you lot are failing to fucking grapple with right now. The very basic premises of duty and friendship to start with. What about the principle of allowing a female control over her own life, her own body?” there was a jagged edge of panic making its way into her tone, the air grew impossibly tighter. 

At that moment the door banged open once again and Amren winced again as Morrigan pushed her way into the room against the wave of unyielding magic pulsing from Feyre. She silently cursed Varian.

“Feyre, I’m so sorry. If we had thought there was any other way to keep you and the babe safe–” she began before she was cut off by a dark wave of Feyre’s magic. Not the same magic that silenced Tamlin’s voice at the meeting of the High Lords, but a plume of magic that quite literally took the place of the air in Mor’s lungs, bringing her swiftly, silently to her knees.

“Surely you aren’t going to tell me you knew what was best for my womb Morrigan, you couldn’t even protect your own from desecration.” Feyre spat down at her.

Amren stood frozen in horror, watching Mor claw at her neck, eyes bulging and mouth agape like a fish out of water. The spell lasted only moments before air rushed back into her purpling face with a harsh gasp, but both Fae were still frozen in place before their High Lady. 

“You all seem to have forgotten, that I live and breathe the powers of all the Courts of Prythian. That I am Made, my sisters and I. We are creatures to be feared and served before we are loved. You’ve failed me, and in doing so you’ve failed this Court. Make sure you let Rhysand see me say that when he looks into your mind.”

Mor blanched, “Feyre you can’t leave now, Rhys and Madja are so close to finding an answer.” Where the hell was Rhys, how had he not yet sensed the chaos threatening to level the entire block of buildings the townhouse occupied?

“I can and I will. I am not safe here, nor is my child. I will seek refuge where I can find healers and friends who will allow me the dignity of deciding what I do with my body, my child. That I would put my life in the hands of a healer who answers to my mate over me, a husband who seeks to deceive me and involve my entire family in doing so? No, I would be a fool to give away my life so passively.” she paced before them frantically, power collecting into thick bands that coiled around Feyre in a churning, horrid shield. 

No longer their friend, no longer their family. A mother and a female burning with primal rage and fear for the safety of her child, guaranteed only by her ability to protect it. Protect it from the world, and in these agonized moments, protect it from her family. A family that could no longer be trusted.

“He will rip apart the world to find you and the babe Feyre, this won’t do any good.” Amren spoke as bluntly as usual, but the edge in her tone betrayed her wariness. 

“Let him try. I’ve never had the chance to test my powers against him, have never needed to until now. I confess I’m curious to see if I can inspire the fear in him that he’s attributed to my name.” The crazed glint in Feyre’s watery eyes was wholly unnerving. 

“Feyre, I’m begging you, don’t do this. We all lived with the fear of losing each other during the war– you and Rhys actually did. Don’t let this tear us all apart again.” Mor was practically weeping, still draped at Feyre’s feet in submission.

“Mor, it’s not my decisions that have led us here. I’ll leave it to you all to decide how to proceed; this Court seems to conceive of its most coordinated efforts without my knowledge.” Feyre had stopped pacing and closed her eyes, all of that asphyxiating power rushing from the room back into those bands of black power coalescing around her. The hair on the back of Amren’s neck stood tall.

“Will you return girl?” she asked quietly, refusing to look away from the fierce specter of power they had so woefully forsaken. Accepting that there was little they could do to stop the events that had been set in motion.

Feyre’s head snapped to her, eyes black with rage, looking every bit the Made Fae that could undo curses and courts. 

“I will return when I have proven to you all that I can give birth to my son without your duplicitous interference. I will return when I have a Court and friends and a mate that I trust to bend the knee, not bring me to my own.” she said with finality. 

The vortex of power around Feyre crackled and snapped as Rhys’ careful warding of Feyre’s body collapsed under her iron will. A new source of power, alarmed and frenetic and reeking of Rhys, swept through Velaris and into the townhouse. It crashed into the whorls of Feyre’s might with a piercing screech. The windows shattered sending glass through the air. Amren and Mor curled into themselves to avoid the spray.

When the chimes of falling glass had stopped and Mor and Amren could uncover their eyes, Feyre was gone. Where her scent, her power, her body had overwhelmed the room, there was absolutely nothing left to indicate that the High Lady of Night had ever stepped foot in the townhouse. 

Somewhere in the distance, mountains rumbled, birds took flight and the citizens of Velaris cowered as Rhysand let out an unearthly roar. 

[mesozoic-system]

Fucking kill yourself already, you piece of shit. No wonder Roy left you. You're just a waste of oxygen and space

Fun fact: I know exactly who this is. No need to remain anonymous, or are you afraid of what your friends would think if they saw you telling strangers to kill themselves?

And I've attempted to before. The very first time I tried to take my own life was when I was 12. I took a handful of my medicine.

After I recovered, I started going to church. I found peace in worshipping God and Jesus Christ. I loved going to church, I loved being part of such a community.

I was raped at 14 inside of a church by someone I thought I could trust, and I tried to kill myself again when I was 15.

My view of religion turned sour, and I began to realize how fictional the Bible was, how evil it was. I turned my back on God and Jesus. If God's love is conditional, then I want nothing to do with it.

People like you, mindless Christians who follow an ancient book blindly, hoping it'll give you answers for the unexplained, it gives you comfort believing that there's something out there that you can trust.

And I respect that.

But for you to use such evil as a way to explain your immoral actions is unjustifiable. You ignore everything in those pages except for what you can use to hurt others.

Let's take a look at a few paragraphs.

(Women aren't supposed to wear pants.)

Deuteronomy 22:5 - A woman shall not wear that which pertaineth unto a man, neither shall a man put on a woman’s garment; for whosoever doeth these things is an abomination unto the Lord thy God.

Deuteronomy 22:28 - If a man comes upon a young woman, a virgin who is not betrothed, seizes her and lies with her, and they are discovered, the man who lay with her shall give the young woman's father fifty silver shekels and she will be his wife, because he has violated her.

Genesis 7:21 - Every living thing that moved on land perished—birds, livestock, wild animals, all the creatures that swarm over the earth, and all mankind. Everything on dry land that had the breath of life in its nostrils died.

Deuteronomy 21:18 - And they shall say unto the elders of his city, This our son is stubborn and rebellious, he will not obey our voice; he is a glutton, and a drunkard. And all the men of his city shall stone him with stones, that he die: so shalt thou put evil away from among you; and all Israel shall hear, and fear.

Proverbs 23:13 - Do not withhold discipline from a child; if you punish them with the rod, they will not die.

1 Samuel 15:3 - Now go and strike Amalek and devote to destruction all that they have. Do not spare them, but kill both man and woman, child and infant, ox and sheep, camel and donkey.

Leviticus 21:17 - For the generations to come none of your descendants who has a defect may come near to offer the food of his God. No man who has any defect may come near: no man who is blind or lame, disfigured or deformed; no man with a crippled foot or hand, or who is a hunchback or a dwarf, or who has any eye defect, or who has festering or running sores or damaged testicles.

Leviticus 20:13 - If a man lies with a male as with a woman, they have committed an abomination; the two of them shall be put to death; their bloodguilt is upon them.

Timothy 2:11 - A woman should learn in quietness and full submission. I do not permit a woman to teach or to assume authority over a man; she must be quiet.

Leviticus 26:29 - You will eat the flesh of your sons and the flesh of your daughters.

Ephesians 6:5 - Slaves, obey your earthly masters with deep respect and fear. Serve them sincerely as you would serve Christ.

Genocide, sexism, homophobia, racism, murder, and none of this is important to you because god forbid, someone's gay!

Next time, do your research. You're shaming your own religion.

[theundeadsnake]

The types of people Slenderman will go After for Love, Friendship and Murder.

Love:

Slenderman prefers quiet people with deep minds and plenty of intriguing thoughts. Whenever you’re chatty or quiet doesn’t make a difference. He is a mind reader and can tell exactly what you’re thinking. So, in many ways, he will know his darling to a great extent early on. To him, a dating is less about getting to know who you are, but rather seeing how you change. As a being that has existed for centuries, it is hard for many to keep up with his way of thinking and living; his darling needs to be an exception to that rule.

The types of people that interest him the most are those who like to question the world they live in. He has seen human society change throughout countless generations and has a long set of thoughts and options about how you all live. Plenty of them are not so favourable.

At the same time his lover must have reactions that he finds pleasing. You freaking out about him reading your mind? Adorable.

Unlike disgust, this reaction does not leave him with any negative feelings, in fact, it makes him feel more confident. He is the predator. You are the prey.

It is essential that his potential partner respects the land they walk on. Slender protects the forest he resides in; he does not want a loved one who is willing to destroy things he values. At the same time, the act of disrespecting the world one’s survival depends on is deeply unacceptable to him.

Friendship:

Slender does not have friends.

Acquaintances, business partners and subordinates however play a part in his life. And so do his family members.

As a busy slender being he does not have the time to make friends. But that isn’t an issue to him, for friendship is not something he desires.

Although he is not opposed to the idea, it’s just not something that happens to him often. His circle has always been small if not non-existent and even then, he was betrayed.

Though, maybe in a sense, it is to be expected. Slender has always been a creature of routine, habit and forethought while Zalgo, his ex-friend, and current enemy is a creature of chaos. Forces that do not go together – like water and oil.

Murder:

Slenderman prefers to make his lackeys deal with any minor issues that come up, so he does little killing himself. When he murders, he does so to prevent them from threatening his way of life or for work purposes.

You can think of him as the ultimate final boss, most won’t ever get to encounter.

Almost all of the work is carried out by the proxies who patrol the surrounding area. Slender usually does not have to interfere with their work. Humans are a lot weaker than his workers therefore he expects them to deal with them swiftly. He only interferes when things get risky, for example, if a big group comes in.

Slender doesn’t really choose his victims, if he does not kill with the intention of defending his manor, he does so for work. Since the early days, powerful people both within the human realm and the underworld have approached his organization to quietly deal with their enemies.