#The Darkness From Whence We Came

[intergalacticstarlight]

❛ you may be in grave danger. there is no time to explain.❜ (for any version of the Doctor. I enjoy a paradox -theaccursedninth)

(@theaccursedninth sent a meme) - (always accepting!)

"Grave danger," he repeats, bitterly and without any sort of compassion to speak of. His voice rises, swells, and by the end of his sentence he's shouting his emphasis. "Grave danger, grave danger-- GRAVE-- DANE--GER!!"

There is spittle on his bottom lip, teeth bared into a snarl as he turns toward the visage of a monster that might have been him once. A terror that could be him, still, if he weren't careful. Theta's time senses were itching, abrasive and sore like sandpaper against a fresh wound, again and again.

Yes, there was grave danger… and this visage of his darkness personified was the reason. He was sure of it, just as sure as he was that this creature held the same memories of his people burning and a million, billion worlds on fire.

"If there is death on the horizon then I say let it come," he says at last, wiping the spittle on the back of his jacket sleeve. "What is it we've become, without it? Darkness, death, destruction-- nothing of the Doctor between the pair of us, ay? Yeah? Not a single drop. So, then, the question issss- why the hell do you care?"

[porterdavis]

She beat him like a rented mule

Kamala Harris fileted Trump like a bloated pig. He took the bait every time, he just couldn't help himself. Between illegal immigrants eating cats to his crowds being the biggest in the history of crowds, his sputtering, spittle-flecked outbursts were pitiable.

It was as comprehensive a whupping as one could ever hope for.

But debates don't win elections. Just ask President (Hillary) Clinton.

We are now in the most dangerous phase of Trump's ouster. He has nothing to lose so he will resort to every tactic imaginable to avoid losing and going to jail. Voter suppression, blackshirts at the polling places, purging voter lists, court challenges, fake videos and pictures, telling people in Democratic areas to be sure to go out and vote on November 6th (it's on the 5th). At worst he will attempt to replicate January 6th, calling out his forces into the streets of America.

Desperate men do desperate things. He needs to get beaten so decisively that there is not even the slightest prospect of overturning the election. And hopefully beaten so badly that the legion of spineless sycophants that have flocked to his banner will slink away into the darkness from whence they came.

American democracy depends on it.

[tanoraqui]

obviously the Historical Figure Episode(TM) of Doctor Who that I’d write would of the Noted Author subset endemic to the RTD Era; it’d be called “Spiders in the Trenches” and be set in the middle of World War One ft. one Lt. John Tolkien.

idk if the main aliens are spiders or if they're just using giant robotic spiders as soldier-minions. Either way, Tolkien is a little too defensive when he says he's not afraid of spiders.

The alien invaders want some sort of shiny mcguffin, maybe as a power source for their ship? Or for a mega-weapon? We do not want them to get it, at any rate. Race to find the Shiny Power Jewel-Thing which has been lost somewhere in this like 20-mile radius of the Western Front.

When our heroes narrowly beat the spiders to the SPJT, Tolkien realizes that the spiders only ever attack at night because light hurts them somehow, so he holds the SPJT up as it flares and shouts, "Get back, foul creatures! Back into the shadows from whence you came!"

(They're from the dark side of a tidally locked planet, and made for extremely low-light conditions? The SPJT flares because it's controlled telepathically and it connected to Tolkien's mind when he touched it?)

Ideally Tolkien's first encounter with the Doctor is that he wakes up in the trench one day (after losing some men to a mysterious monster in the darkness a couple nights ago?), and there's 2 random strangers in weird clothes idly singing and playing an instrument which they stole from someone a couple bedrolls down. (This works well with Fifteen & Ruby's established inclination to music!)

We do need an Eowyn Moment, because that's iconic, but I'd split it: for dialogue, at one point the head boss evil alien boasts, "No human can defeat the Tenebrarachnid Empire!" and the Doctor replies, "Good thing they've got me, then."...

[I don't know if this is a Fifteen line yet. I know it's a very Eleven line]

...and there's a soldier in Tolkien's unit who is revealed to be secretly a woman! Who disguised herself as a man in order to enlist for ??? reasons, and who dramatically pulls off her hat to reveal her long hair.

The third notable local character is the sort who inspired Sam Gamgee, "...the English soldier, [like] the privates and batmen I knew in the 1914 war, and recognized as so far superior to myself.”

^those two can have a romantic subplot if it fits (comrades-in-arms is also extremely good). Tolkien, however, at some point shows Ruby the picture of his wife Edith which he carries at all times, she of the black hair and bright grey eyes, and is obviously ready to monologue about how wonderful she is.

In the same scene(?), Tolkien looks up at the stars and says their brightness shining afar, clear of all the horrors on the ground, is always a source of hope and strength to him.

Maybe also in the same scene? Tolkien is shown to make up stories for fun, or to read them in his little spare time - fairy tales and mythological epics. Maybe he tells them to the men around the fire, maybe he keeps a little notebook, maybe he just admits to daydreaming... When asked why, he paraphrases his quote from later life, " Fantasy is escapist, and that is its glory. If a soldier is imprisoned by the enemy, don't we consider it his duty to escape?"

At some point (Star-watching scene? when the Doctor inevitably has to explain that aliens exist? when they're all saying goodbye in the end?) there's a line drawing attention to the Doctor's parallels with Eärendil - eternally wandering figure of hope, sailing the stars in a ship with a light on top, not quite mortal...

Tolkien DEFINITELY tries to figure out the alien language, in writing or speech.

Something the aliens are doing is making people sick. Maybe the attacking robo-spiders are venomous, maybe there's a toxic byproduct of the alien ship, maybe it's a deliberate first assault of the planned invasion... By the end of the episode, Tolkien is very ill. The Doctor has figured out an antidote and given it, but Tolkien says goodbye to him and Ruby only to stumble to a medical outpost - from where, the Doctor explains to Ruby, he'll be sent home with this bad case of what's assumed to be trench fever. Between the fever and the brief psychic entanglement, and unentanglement, with the SPJT, he won't even remember most of this, and what he does remember, he'll put down to fever dreams amidst the horrors of war.

But he'll remember some things! He'll remember an eternal wanderer of the stars, unaging and undying and ever-hopeful, heralded by light (and a vworrrp vrorrrp noise).

[devildomwriter]

All Spells & Magic

7-20

Solomon: “…Denizens of the darkness, awaken! You who are born of shadow, hear me! I am the one called Solomon. I call upon you now to lend your power to Asmodeus, Avatar of Lust!”

8-13

MC: “…Hear me, denizens of the darkness, you who are born of shadow and you who give birth to it. Hear me and do as I command! …Denizens of the darkness, awaken! You who are born of shadow, hear me! I call upon you now to lend your power to Asmodeus, Avatar of Lust!”

11-12

Group: “Elohim Essaim Frugativi et appelavi… Come to us…we beseech you… Hear our words…head our summons… Show yourself…appear before us…”

13-14

Barbatos: “Hear my voice and heed my command. These words are sound…the sound, melody. And through it I bind thee, and rob thee of they freedom.”

29-12

Satan: “Forces of calamity, disaster, and misfortune! Rain down upon the one who stands before me…”

Mammon: “D’ah! Stop! What kind curse are you puttin’ on me, anyway?!”

Satan: “Bidibriupyon fath parthu…”

MC: “Bidibriupyon fath parthu…”

29-12

Satan: “May the vestiges of the curse that linger within the person before me be eliminated. I am the one they call Satan…Hear my command!””

30-13

Satan: “May our bodies be drawn together and bound together, by a force none can resist and none can escape…”

30-13

MC: “…Calm the unease that gnaws at this demons, and bring peace to his heart!”

35-2

Solomon: “…Spirit of wind, the magician Solomon commands thee! Shield the ears of those who stand before me! Rid them of their lust for water, and silence the siren’s voice!”

35-9

Solomon: “I am the magician Solomon… Heed my words! Open the way forward, and create a path where there was none!”

36-16

Solomon: “May this vile curse return to the one who conjured it. Turn back the hands of time and unwind the wrong-doing that triggered it. I am the magician Solomon… Hear my command! Let none oppose it, and none escape it!”

37-1

MC: “Spirit of earth, cover the mouth of the one who lies before me, and silence his cries forever…”

37-1

MC: “May the vestiges of pain that linger within the demon before me be eliminated!”

44-1

MC: “Spirit of water…Suppress this torrent…”

44-1

MC: “May the vestiges of pain that linger within the demon before me be eliminated… I am the one they call MC… Hear my command!”

45-7

Solomon: “…I call upon the earth itself to shackle the one who stands before me. Leave them bound and helpless. I am the sorcerer Solomon…Answer my call!”

46-1

Mammon: ”Spirit of wind, I command you! Arise, Pierce the darkness, and bring that tiny demon to me! I am Mammon, Avatar of Greed! Hear and obey me!””

46-1

MC: “…Beelzebub, your master MC commands you… Cast aside this wicked creature so he may bother us no more!”

46-10

MC: “…Denizens if darkness, awaken! Hear me, you who are born of shadow! I am MC, the master who commands Beelzebub, the Avatar of Gluttony. I call upon you now to lend your power to this demon!”

46-10

Solomon: “Spirit of wind, calm yourself. Spirit of earth, sleep.”

53-4

Solomon: “Grant those who stand before me temporary forms, so that they appear as animals. Solomon the sorcerer wills it. Hear me, and let it be done!”

56-3

MC: “O winds of protection, shield him.”

56-3

MC: ”O fires of judgment…”

58-2

MC: “Hear me, O light born of shadow! Come forth and repel this evil spirit!”

58-12

Beelzebub: “Evil spirit, sinister and foul! In the name of Beelzebub, Avatar of Gluttony…be gone!”

58-15

Satan: “Evil spirit, sinister and foul! Return to the darkness from whence you came!Witness my rage and behold your doom, from ashes to ashes, dust to dust…”

58-18

Lucifer: “Evil spirit, sinister and foul! Return to the darkness from whence you came! Witness my power and behold your doom, from ashes to ashes, dust to dust…”

58-19

MC: “…May the vestiges of fear that linger within the angel before me be eliminated. I am the one they call MC…hear my command.”

59-1

Mammon: “Wh-What just happened?! That blast of wind that hit me…was that magic?!”

Lucifer: “Ah, so you conjured that gust of wind, and sent Mammon flying onto the couch before he could step on the vacuum…Well done, MC.” *no spell is said aloud, as using magic without incantation is a sign of more poweeerful magic, and MC can now summon wind without using any words*

60-3

*It’s implied MC can use levitation magic to grab items far away*

61-1

MC: “…In the name of the sorcerer MC, I command you. Create a path where there is none…And lead me where I wish to go.”

61-14

MC: “Hear me, O spirit of wind! Awaken the demon who slumbers before me! In the name of the Sorcerer MC, I command you!”

62-11

MC: “…Hear me! Spirit of water, rain down upon the demon before me. In the name of the sorcerer, MC, make it so…”

62-11

MC: “…Spirit of wind, bring your force to bear on the demon before me!”

62-14

MC: “Spirit of water, rain down!”

62-14

MC: “Spirit of water, send forth a cataclysmic deluge!”

64-17

MC: “…In the name of the sorcerer MC, I command you! Create a path where there is none! And lead us where we wish to go.”

65-11

MC: “Spirit of wind, protect him!”

66-4

MC: “Spirit of fire, send forth your flames…

66-4

MC: “Spirit of water, rain down upon him…”

66-4

MC: “Spirit of wind, send forth a gale…”

66-4

MC: “Create a path where there is none!”

66-4

MC: “Spirit of earth, cover his mouth and silence him!”

66-4

MC: “I bind thee, and rob thee of thy freedom!”

Solomon: “Looks like you’re shortening the incantation like a pro! Just what I’d expect from my talented apprentice!”

66-19

MC: “I bind thee…And rob thee of thy freedom!”

68-7

MC: “May the illusion clouding my mind be dispelled! I am the one they call MC. Hear my command.”

68-11

MC: “…Hear me…Spirit of wind, calm yourself. Spirit of earth, sleep! In the name of the sorcerer MC, I command you…”

68-19

MC: “The sorcerer MC commands you…Come forth, feline…”

70-15

MC: “The sorcerer MC commands you! Come forth, super-rare book…”

70-17

MC: “In the name of the sorcerer MC, I draw upon my pact with the ring of light……Come forth, Lucifer!”

74-17

MC: “Hear me, and heed my call. In the name of the sorcerer MC, I draw upon my pact with the ring of light. Come forth, Lucifer…”

76-11

MC: “Hear me, spirit of wind. I call for your protection! In the name of the sorcerer MC, I call upon you…”

78-16

Solomon: “Are you ready? In order to remove a magic item from inside a solid object here’s what you do. First, condense as much of your own magic energy as possible, creating a ball of magical light. This ball of concentrated magic needs to be at least as powerful as the item you want to remove. Okay, I think this should be enough. Then you thrust your condensed magic orb into the tree, forcing the magic item inside out. Once the item has been removed, the tree will return to normal.”

79-14

MC: “…In the name of the sorcerer MC, I command you…Create a path where there is none…And lead us to those who require our help…”

80-16 H

MC: “Hear me, denizens of the darkness, you who are born of shadow and you who give birth to it. Hear me and do as I command! I, MC, call upon you to send forth one of your number! I summon the avatar of envy, Leviathan…”

[mediumgayitalian]

“Man overboard!”

Annabeth does, in fact, understand that such a cry warrants hastiness. Hurry, even.

“Man overboard! Man overboard!”

Most men, after all, cannot swim, and if the whispers are to be believed then this particular man is not even conscious to try. He is no doubt in peril, and the Fates have a stronger hold on his thread with every passing moment.

“Make way! Man overboard!”

If she is jostled one more time, however.

“Man overboard! Lower the ladder, man overboard!”

Should even one more crew yank her back away from the walls of the ship, patting her on the arm as they shove her ‘somewhere more befitting for such a finely dressed lady’.

“Hook it around him, for the gods’ sake, man overboard!”

There are going to be several more men joining him.

“Clear a path! Clear a path!”

She makes it, finally, to the rail unimpeded enough to lean over and see the man who, she has heard, has fallen overboard. He clings like dark-haired Danaë on the waterlogged hope of a wine barrel, bare back burned from the sun, nose nearly dragging along the friendly swirling waves. His dignity is covered, barely, by a torn, bloodstained cloth, and his tanned skin is crisscrossed with raised white scars.

He is handsome.

She stumbles back from the hull, face burning. And absurd thought to have. She seeks out deliberately a close-cropped head of blond hair, smiling tersely when Captain Grace meets her eyes, offering her a nod.

“Straight line,” she murmurs to herself, pulling back her shoulders.

She gives the men plenty of distance as they haul the downed sailor up from the depths. It irks her, really, to be following their orders, but to help or to offer it would mean more of the jostling, the pushing. More grimey hands irreparably staining the fine silk of the new dress Mother had sent her with.

It takes the crew an embarrassingly long time to haul the man up, even though Annabeth can see, as one of the bulkier men wraps a limp arm around his shoulders, that he is slight. He has the shoulders of a swimmer and the leanness of a scavenger, but his frame is small. In fact she is almost sure that upright, they would stand shoulder to shoulder. Perhaps an inch on his part, nothing more.

She realises, with a start, that the crew is staring at her, and forces her second blush of the day back from whence it came. She meets the expectant states with a tilted chin and hard eyes, drawing her skirts and clicking her heels against the groaning deck.

“What,” she snaps.

“He’s unconscious, my lady.”

“So? Place him out of the sun, have someone monitor him.”

The crewman supporting the unconscious man — truly, Annabeth needs to learn these men’s names; it would be easier if any of them spoke to her at any time other than to ask if the sun was making her feel faint — shifts from foot to foot.

Well.

Foot to peg.

“Yes,” he says eventually. He makes some sort of vague gesture with his hand, stepping forward. “Er — our thoughts exactly, my lady.”

Still, no one moves. The unconscious man’s head lolls, pitching his whole weight forward. Another sailor lunges forward to catch him, readjusting him so he’s steady.

Still, no one moves.

Annabeth shifts to face her betrothed. He winces under her sharp look, hand coming up to run the back of his neck.

“He may fare best under your care,” Captain Grace says hesitantly. “The bunks are unfit for someone in his condition. And my men can be…rough.”

“Choose your words carefully, Jason,” she warns.

Grimacing, Captain Grace plows on. “I mean no offense, my lady. We have no other women on the ship. Your cabin is cool and sheltered and I know you enjoy those weaving projects in idle time. He will not require much more than an eye to ensure he does not pass in his sleep. I can think of no one more capable to watch over him.”

The doctor, for starters, Annabeth thinks. Drunk as he is, the sickly rescue should be his charge; nursing him should be his task.

The crew doesn’t even glance at him, though. He stands happily to the side, red-faced and cross-eyed, bottle dribbling from his trouser pockets, and Annabeth fights the urge to bare her teeth.

“Whatever you believe is best, Captain,” she grits out. She glares at the crew, pausing on each man until he squirms under her gaze. “Do not leave him to soak my sheets.”

They leave him, instead, sprawled on the wooden floorboards.

Annabeth scowls.

A four week journey, her mother had told her. Barely a month at sea, with plenty of stops on the islands dotting the paths and a stack of journals for her research. Captain Grace’s vessel is exceptionally well-stocked and custom built by the brightest of his father’s engineers; so smoothly is it claimed to flow through the water that all aboard her will scarcely feel even the roughest rock of the waves.

A sharp veer to the side has Annabeth stumbling, nearly crushing herself under the man’s dead weight.

“Smooth,” she grumbles to herself, huffing as she drags him back upright. His skin is alarmingly cool from the bite of the water, and still slick. It takes her four tries to force his arm back over her shoulder, slippery as it is. “Top model, they say. Well, what a purse of lies that is. I could design a better ship in my —” she huffs, yanking him the last few feet towards her bed — “sleep.”

She could be more gentle with him, she supposes. If his head or spine is injured then her rough handling will doom him. But, well, penny, pound, et cetera. If he has a head injury and the waves haven’t killed him, her light tossing won’t, either.

Probably.

She deposits him on top of her quilt and then stands at the foot of her bed, hands on her hips, toes tapping. She tilts her head slightly to the right. Narrowing her eyes, she tilts it to the right. She wrinkles her nose and squints her eyes.

She can’t be faulted for her earlier thoughts, she decides.

He has a strange kind of charm to him. The same magnetism present in the performers of her mother’s court; men and women who gather in bright clothing and perform tricks and tease the audience, riding the thin line between furious huffing and uproarious laughter. Troublemakers, with enough skill to balance the line. Thin, twitching fingers and smile lines in the corner of his eyes, thick but maintained brows and dramatically bowed lips.

With a sound so great it rivals the billowing coal engines down billow, the man snores, trail of saliva trickling down his chin.

How revolting. Annabeth finds her lips twitching upwards and resets them deliberately into a graceful line.

Yes, he is the alluring kind. She wouldn’t be surprised if he turns out to be some kind of thief, or a cast-out stowaway. A wisecracker who pushed the envelope an inch too far.

She stalks over to the windowed wall of her tiny cabin, wrestling it open. The immediate relief of the sea breeze has her gasping, resisting the urge to stick her head out and bask in the cool air. That would be undignified, even if her room as become unbearably stifling with the presence of another person in it.

Gods, she is lonely.

She had hoped at least to have one of her ladies accompanying her. It would have been a little more bearable, the company, cramped as her cabin would be. On this ship now she is bored nearly to tears from sunup to sundown every day, barred from even the most menial of tasks that could upset her delicate womanliness and bereft of even a child to argue with. The crew tiptoes around her like she may crack to fine shards should they so much as offer her more than a fine morning, my lady, or the sun suits you quite beautifully, did you know, and Captain Grace loves nothing more than extended silences. In all honesty she only gets to talk to the ship’s mechanic, who, vulgar as he is, at least talks to her as he would anyone else on the ship. Sure, she can only stand so much of him at a time, and he’s been banned from breathing in her direction since the very first day of their expedition, but if she happens to be in the ship’s engine room as the same time as he is, then it would simply be impolite to ignore her.

Not that Valdez cares much for rules. Or her preferences.

Desperate times, et cetera, et cetera.

Knowing the deck will be too crowded for her to slip down below unnoticed, she settles down onto the old, rickety corner-desk with a sigh, cracking open her journal. Except for a string of blotty doodles along the edges, the paper is devoid of anything, as barren and numb as her mind feels. She understands, dramatic as it is, why so many sailors return from their voyages mad; why pirates and navies alike sail with crews. Even a day on the empty, open ocean without someone to talk to is maddening. She feels as if words flee from her vocabulary with every minute she doesn’t use them. What is there to do, on this stupid boat, besides sleep and eat and mope? She wishes she was allowed to steer the vessel, or watch from the nest. Not stimulating jobs, true, but jobs, at least. She has not sunk so low as to long for a deck-scrubber, but she is dangerously close. She can feel it. Another week at sea without much more than a loom and a needle and her mind will leap into the waves, she’s sure, abandoning her to the dull tedium of the stagnant clouds. The knowledge that she has three weeks left until they reach Lord Dyeus’ kingdom could make her break down into weeping, should she dwell on it long enough. By the time she returns to civilization she may no longer be suited for it.

A rustle sounds behind her, followed by a cut-off snort.

“…Somehow, I don’t think I’m at sea anymore.”

Annabeth yelps, nearly falling right off her chair. She scrambles upright, or tries to, but her stupid petticoats get caught up around her ankles and nearly send her toppling again, this time with even less of her dignity. It is only with sheer force of will that she manages to force her spine straight and upright in perfect time to meet the most gorgeous, sea green eyes she has ever seen.

“You drool when you sleep,” she informs him, darkly satisfied when the amused twinkle fades from his eyes in favour of a flat glare, hand coming up to swipe at his chin.

“I don’t suppose you could tell me where I am,” he mutters as the minutes stretch on.

Annabeth snaps her gaze back up to his face, wishing desperately her cabin had a second window.

“Captain Grace’s ship.” She swallows stiffly, collarbone suddenly itchy. “On route to the Kingdom of Lightning.”

The man’s face pales, long, calloused fingers twitching into fists.

“The ship carrying Princess Annabeth?”

Her mouth dries even further. “…Yes.”

“Someone needs to summon her, quickly. I have news. I — I come from Pirate Jackson’s ship — they threw me off board to drown.”

She knows, immediately, why he tells her this. Why his eyes go round with desperation, why his hands twist, why he has developed a sudden, scrutinizing interest in the view of the sea from outside her window, throat bobbing with every heavy suggestion.

But all hypotheses must be tested.

“Why?”

He meets her gaze, green eyes an exact mirror of the roiling sea around them; layered, stormy, and deeper than the darkest of trenches, wider than the night sky.

“Because they want to know her location. And I refused to give it up.”

———

next

[heartfullofleeches]

supermarket reader but they kind of work at a place like omega mart?

Maybe they're also kind of the opposite of fast food reader in the sense where they're super passive agressive, have a permanent smile on their face that screams "i'll kill you and your entire bloodline if you have me scan the item again because your illiterate and read the price tag wrong", and just generally have the fakest up beat attitude that gets progressively more malicious the more pissed off they get. Will also out right manipulate the yans in said market to maybe even kill certain customers or just make their life a little easier by doing that one task they just aren't able to do at the moment because of that one stupid customer?

Retail Reader: Hello! Welcome to the Everything Store, where we have everything your heart could ever desire at a fair praise - including your inevitable demise if you ask me even a single question as I have not slept in thirteen hours and my coworkers keep asking me on dates as if I don't have opening shift

Customer: Wait, when you say everything-

Retail Reader: hahaha.... [whips out their walkie-talkie] First to get this person out of my sight gets to walk me to my car tonight

[The security team bleeds from the shadows as living vessels of them darkness itself. They grab onto the customer as they scream and cry, one taking reader's hand to kiss it as they all return from whence they came]

Retail Reader: Have a safe night!

[yukidragon]

May we have a story about Jack's clingy side and uses his puppy dog eyes to make MC to cuddle with him longer? (He uses the puppy dog eyes whenever he wants something and it works 100% of the time) Jack kind of reminds me of a giant puppy.

I love this idea! Jack definitely knows how to channel puppy energy to his advantage, and my MC Alice definitely falls for it every time.

In fact, I love this idea so much that it inspired me to turn it into a quick writing prompt. I also remembered that I owe everyone a nice little Jack x reader fic from the poll I made last year, so I wrote this writing exercise in 1st person gender neutral perspective.

So here it is, just a short but sweet first draft story about clingy Jack giving his sunshine some puppy dog eyes and pleading to get a bit more cuddle time. I don't think any real warnings apply, though it does get a little suggestive. Also, I think this might count as GrovelCore?

Anyway, I hope you enjoy my writing, and consider leaving a comment please!💕

@channydraws @earthgirlaesthetic @sai-of-the-7-stars @cheriihoney @illary-kore @okamiliqueur @kurokrisps

...

It was nice to have moments like this, just the two of us on the couch cuddled up together. The way Jack wrapped me up in his big, strong arms made me feel so safe, so content. Even though I was tucked comfortably in his lap, he practically surrounded me with his warmth. It was the perfect way to spend a day off from work.

The show on TV was entertaining, but it wasn’t enough to draw my attention away from Jack for long. He didn’t seem to be paying attention to it at all. Every time I looked up at him, I never failed to see those beautiful dark brown eyes of his gazing back at me. His mouth was shaped in a gentle curve of a smile, his expression almost dreamy as he admired me with so much love and adoration in his eyes that it sent my heart racing. I had to look away when the butterflies in my chest fluttered so hard they were ready to burst out of me.

Fuck, I was so down bad for this man, I was down atrocious.

A gloved finger brushed against my cheek, slowly tracing the contours of my face until reaching my chin. The sensation sent a delicious shiver down my spine, and my eyes returned to Jack as he gently guided my face back towards him.

“Looks like the show’s over,” Jack said. I blinked, caught off-guard, before my eyes darted to the screen to see the credits scrolling by. His honeyed voice drew me back before I could get distracted from his loving gaze for long. “What do you want to do now, sunshine?”

The first thought that popped into my head made my cheeks burn and brought back those damn butterflies. The second thought reminded me to check the time.

Ah damn it. Curse must-watch binge-worthy television. Why must I always fall for your siren song of “just one more episode”?

“Not run errands, that’s for sure, but it’s getting late,” I said with a heavy sigh, banishing the butterflies and steamy thoughts to whence they came. “Groceries aren’t going to buy themselves, and I’ve got a bunch of other stuff I should get out of the way while I’m out too.” I sighed again, shoulders slumping.

Being a responsible adult dealing with all the responsible adult bullshit sucked sometimes. A lot of the time. Actually probably most of the time considering how many hours in a day got eaten up by a cringy job and entitled customers.

I twisted away from Jack and tried to stand, but his large muscular arms kept me locked up tighter than iron bars. I turned back to him with a questioning look, only to see him pouting at me.

“I know it’s important to be responsible, sunshine, but don’t you think you’ve been pushing yourself too hard lately?” he asked. “We have plenty of food to last a few more days, and you’ve been working overtime for the past five nights in a row. You come home too exhausted to do anything but sleep, then you go right back to work. It’s not good for you.”

“I know,” I said with a helpless shrug. “But what can I do about it? Bills aren’t going to pay themselves either.”

Jack adjusted his hold on me, not enough that I could slip free, but I could feel his hands glide slowly along my back, sending a shiver up my spine. “I know, but it’s just been so long since we’ve had any cuddle time,” he said, his pout making its way into his voice now.

I couldn’t help but chuckle a little at the way his lower lip jutted out just a little further. “You see me every day,” I teased, trying to lighten up the mood. “Besides, we woke up cuddling this morning, didn’t we? You sleep with me every night.”

“You’ve been too tired to cuddle lately,” Jack said, whining a little. “Even this morning, you didn’t really wake up until halfway through breakfast. This is the first chance in days that I’ve had to really have you all to myself.” He dipped his head down, closer to mine, and I couldn’t help but notice the way the TV’s gentle glow made his dark eyes shine. “I missed you, sunshine.”

His big soulful eyes tugged at my heartstrings, and his gentle caress along my back made me want to melt into him. “I missed you too,” I admitted after a moment. We couldn’t exactly talk when other people were around, and work had been too busy for us to even sneak a kiss without the risk of getting caught in the act.

 I was pretty sure Jack wouldn’t mind even if someone else could see him making out with me. In fact, I had a sneaking suspicion that he might even enjoy getting caught. Sometimes this man acted like he had no idea what it meant to feel shame.

Then again, Jack was always painted up like a clown 24/7. If he wasn’t embarrassed by the bright face paint or his silly jokes, then he probably didn’t know the meaning of the word.

Sometimes I wished that I could say the same. The idea of being seen making weird faces while holding onto the air left me feeling a level of cringe that not even the greeting at my job could match. It probably would be a kiss with tongue too knowing Jack.

The thought left me burning, both with mortification and the memory of the way his kisses made me feel.

Maybe it would be worth the embarrassment considering how good of a kisser Jack was.

As if reading my mind, Jack brushed his lips against mine, just a peck, but it was enough to snap my attention entirely to my boyfriend. “Then stay with me,” he said with a hint of desperation to his breathy voice. “Please?” He planted another kiss on my lips, just a little longer but still only a tantalizing taste of what he could offer me. “I need you.”

Jack finished off the last of my resistance by saying my name in that same pleading tone while looking at me with so much love and need in his beautiful dark brown eyes. His desperate voice and puppy dog eyes made me melt like cotton candy in water.

I gave in to him. I couldn’t help it. I was weak to him when he begged me like this, and I needed Jack just as badly as he needed me.

“Jack,” I sighed as I looped my arms around his neck and drew Jack in for another kiss. I could feel him smile against my lips, and he murmured my name again before his tongue slid into my mouth to get a taste of me.

Soon I was pinned against the couch, breathless and panting, with Jack looming above me. His arms were a cage that secured me there and ensured that I wasn’t leaving anytime soon. Not that I wanted to with the way his mouth moved along my neck, hot and wet. I couldn’t help but moan his name as he sucked on my skin, arching up into him.

Even before Jack started tugging at my shirt, I had a feeling that I wasn’t getting any errands done today, but I couldn’t bring myself to care. Every touch, every kiss, and every murmur of my name along with sweet praise made the world around us fade away, until nothing else existed but the two of us and our love.

[the-broken-truth]

Primal Hunt - [Yandere] [Werewolf Jamil Viper] [Female Yuu]

Summary: It's Halloween in Night Raven College, and everyone is celebrating with parties and festivities. However, Yuu Arisugawa is preoccupied with finding a way to activate the Dark Mirror and return to her world. Unfortunately, she has become the target of a predator who not only wants to prey on her but also has something darker in mind for the magicless female. Will Yuu survive the Night of the Blood Moon, or will she be devoured?

Broken: Welcome to my First Yandere Jamil Viper One-Shot. I know it's not Halloween, but who seriously cares?

[Halloween Night - Ramshackle]

Soft sapphire eyes looked at the pages of the book resting on the desk before the window where the light of the Blood Red Full Moon shined through the rather foggy window. With an exhausted yawn, Yuu ran her hair through her short black hair before using her hand to close the tome before her and pushed it away from her before resting her elbows on the desk and placing her face in the palms of her hands, completely exhausted by the countless hours of searching through countless tomes and writing down information for the one question she's had since arriving in Twisted Wonderland: A way to return to her original world.

Yuu Arisugawa is the Prefect of Ramshackle and is widely known to be the strongest person on campus, even though she has no magical powers. However, she possesses a power that nobody can understand, which makes her equally feared whether she is angry or having a normal day. Yuu commands respect through her actions, not because of her magical abilities or family status, unlike many other students on campus. Despite the Headmaster's duties, she still manages to excel in her studies while assisting students of all dorms and years with their issues. Additionally, she handles all the Overblots, from Riddle Rosehearts to Malleus Draconia and everyone in between. Everyone knows not to anger the Prefect because of her impressive abilities.

No one would say it around Dire Crowley since Yuu asked them not to, but all the other students considered Yuu as the True Headmaster of Night Raven College and would call her that when the Old Crow was not around; Yuu would never admit it, but she liked it when the others called her that. It made her feel like her efforts were being appreciated.

However, the only thing the students didn't like about Yuu was her current mission: Returning from whence she came. Not a single person at Night Raven wanted Yuu to return to her original world; the teachers, the students, the Dorm Wardens and Vice Dorm Wardens, and even Crowley (I'm sure we all know why) wanted Yuu to remain with them, however, the Arisugawa Female was too set on returning home and there was nothing anyone could change her mind; no amount of gifts and pleads would make her stay in Twisted Wonderland.

Tonight was no different.

T'was Halloween Night and all the dorms were celebrating in style, it was more special since the Blood Moon was high in the sky; making everything better for the atmosphere of the parties. Every dorm invited Yuu to their personal events but the Prefect refused since she was going to use the peace and quiet to look through the tomes she had about the Dark Mirror in hopes of triggering it to bring her back home. Grim asked her if it would be okay to go with Ace and Deuce on their Halloween adventures and Yuu agreed; the fact Grim asked her made her laugh since he always called her his 'henchman'. Due to the Blood Moon, The Ghosts of Ramshackle were in some kind of hibernation; Yuu was completely alone in the silent walls of Ramshackle.

Yuu pushed herself away from the desk and rose from her seat before leaving her room to head down the stairs to make herself something small to eat and maybe a cup of tea; all that reading and still the dots were not connecting for her, at least not at the moment.

Upon reaching the kitchen and putting the kettle on to the tea, Yuu placed a frozen pizza in her toaster oven and turned the timer; that was when her phone, a gift from Professor Crewel (Dad Crewel!), binged with a message. She pulled it out of her pocket and opened the message - it was from Ace in the group chat she had with Ace and Deuce.

Ace Trappola❤: Hey, Yuu! Sorry to bother you but we have a problem here.

Yuu: What is the problem, Ace?

Ace Trappola❤: We lost Grim.

Yuu: What do you mean you lost Grim? What happened?

Ace Trappola❤: We were invited to Scarabia Dorm for their party and everything was going good, but when the food came, we noticed that Grim wasn't anywhere around and we both know he loves food. Did he come back to Ramshackle by any chance?

Yuu: No, I am here alone. When was the last time you saw him?

Ace Trappola❤: Last time I saw him, he was talking to Jamil.

Yuu: Jamil? Jamil isn't that fond of Grim. what could they have been talking about?

Just then, a new text appeared from Deuce Spade.

Deuce Spade♠: I found Grim! He was locked in a broom closet and he was passed out!

Yuu: What do you mean? Is he awake now?

Deuce Spade♠: Yeah, but that's not important right now! Yuu, you need to leave Ramshackle right now! Grim wasn't just knocked out, he was Snake Whispered!

That text caused Yuu's eyes to widen in shock: The Snake Whisper was the Unique Magic of Jamil Viper, Scarabia's Vice Dorm Warden who overblotted while attempting to stage a coup but was stopped by Yuu.

Ever since that night, Jamil's attitude and relationship with Kalim and his dorm mates have been better, he integrated himself into Yuu's Friendship Circle, however, he was never really interested in speaking to the others in the group: He only wanted to speak and interact with Yuu. In fact, he seemed as if he wanted to be more to Yuu than 'just a friend', at least, that is what his actions spoke:

During meal times, he would bring food for Yuu along with his own and Kalim's. He always made sure to sit next to her and if there was anyone else occupying the seats next to Yuu, he would demand that they give up their seat for him. During one such occasion, Jamil forcibly removed Ace from his seat when he refused to give it up willingly to the Viper.

Whenever Yuu expressed a need for something, no matter how small it was, Jamil always brought it to her. He brought her school materials and even odd things like newer versions of items. Yuu suspected that Jamil was following her because she had mentioned a Triple Layered Cheesecake with strawberries on top that her mother used to make for her on her birthday. She had kept a copy of the recipe card in her room at Ramshackle. However, on the day of her 17th Birthday Party, Jamil surprised her with the exact same cake, which tasted just like her mother's recipe. Yuu was grateful for the cake, but couldn't understand how Jamil knew the recipe when the recipe card was in her room and no one had access to it. It made her wonder if Jamil had been in her room without her knowledge. The very thought scared her but she refused to show it.

Jamil always found ways to be near Yuu. He would volunteer to work with her on paired projects and assist her with finding books. However, Yuu noticed that whenever she was looking for books related to the Dark Mirror, they were difficult to find when Jamil was around. When she searched without him, she found them easily. Whenever Yuu invited her friends to her place to relax, Jamil would bring ingredients to make delicious desserts for himself, Yuu, and Kalim. However, he would only give cookies to the others so Yuu wouldn't get mad at him.

The most troubling thing about Jamil in Yuu's opinion was that he was very possessive and insistent that Yuu spend time with him; he would grab her forearm and bring her closer to him whenever they were walking with their friends or glare at other students who spoke to her for too long, the longest he lasted before scaring someone off was 2 minutes.

Now, Grim was Snake Whispered and locked in a broom closet in Scarabia? What the hell is going on and why would Jamil do something like this?

That was when the lights went out and Yuu was now standing in utter darkness just as the timer on the Toaster Over went off and the Kettle started steaming. Yuu slightly jumped when the lights went out but soon calmed herself down as she shook her phone to trigger the flashlight before walking out of the kitchen and looking down the hallway; every single light in Ramshackle was out but this was confusing. The weather was perfect for Halloween and Yuu recently got the old wiring in the power box replaced to make sure there were no fires or blackouts.

'Was someone trying to play a trick on me? It was Halloween after all.' Yuu thought as she walked to the front door, opened it, and went out and around Ramshackle to look for the power box, only to find something shocking: The Power Box was damaged...by some kind of creature. 3 large and deep claw marks slashed through the wires and circuit boards, causing the blackout; something or someone did this on purpose...and it was most likely that it was still around.

Yuu turned on her heel and ran back into Ramshackle, slamming the door behind her and locking the door before calming down and heading up the stairs to return to her room, and closed the door behind her before turning to face it with her back to the window. She closed her eyes while taking deep breaths to calm her racing heart. She had to calm down and think; all she had to do was...

*Tap*

*Tap*

*Tap*

Yuu's eyes widened at the sound of tapping on the glass behind her but she was too frozen to move, that's when she noticed something else; the shadow that consumed hers. There was something watching her and it was large.

"My, my, Prefect. All alone on this Halloween night? Why don't you let me in and I shall hold you tight." The voice said. Wait. That voice.

Yuu pushed through her fear and turned around and came face to face with none other than Jamil Viper, but it would seem that the Viper was hiding more than his hatred for Kalim during the Coup.

Jamil was no longer completely human, Yuu could tell that from the large wolf-like ears and the long bushy tail waving side to side slowly with excitement. Red markings rest upon Jamil's cheeks like whispers and a very decorated marking on his forehead. He was dressed in a rather nice outfit like he was at the party, but she knew that was no costume; by the look of his canine-like feet wrapped in black bandages and the claws wrapped in the same material up to his forearms. Yuu could see the obvious: Jamil Viper was a Werewolf.

"Trying to stay calm, Prefect? That is utterly adorable, however, that is not going to fool me. I can hear your heart pounding against your chest. I can see your pupils jumping in those lovely pools of sapphire you call eyes. Also..." Jamil takes a deep inhale before exhaling with a smile on his face as he places his wrapped clawed hands on the surface of the glass, "I can smell your fear, Prefect, and it's delicious; utterly intoxicating."

"You used your Unique Magic on Grim and locked him in a broom closet in Scarabia's Dormitory during the party. Why?" Yuu asked while keeping her distance from the window, the only barrier she had between herself and the Werewolf Vice Warden before her.

Said werewolf chuckling as his tail waved from side to side like a slow-paced pendulum.

"Still trying to act tough? Oh, Prefect, you're too damn cute for your own good; it makes me want to devour you even more now. As for that blasted chimera, I was not going to let him get in my way and ruin the plans I have spent months putting into place." Jamil's silver eyes - which were as black as coal the last time she saw him - seemed to glow with unknown intentions.

"Plans? What plans?" Yuu asked. Jamil's smile grew, displaying his large canines, as his right index finger started tapping the surface of the glass once again. Yuu's body moved on its own and took a few steps back.

"Let me in and I'll explain everything that's gonna happen before this night is over, Prefect." Jamil purred at the girl, who shook her head at him, making his smile grow even wider. "Prefect..."

He reeled his clawed hand back.

"That wasn't a suggestion."

Jamil's hand shot forward and shattered the glass all over the floor and desk of Ramshackle, making Yuu over her face to keep any and all glass from hitting her face. When the sound of large footsteps hit her room floor and the sound of glass shards hitting each other hit her ears, she removed her hands and looked at the tall werewolf standing before her with a wild grin on his face as he stared down at the 5'3 Girl.

"What is wrong with you, Jamil?" Yuu asked. The large male tilted his head at her with his smile still resting on his face.

"You have no idea how long I have been waiting for this, Prefect: The moment I would have you alone and I would take what is rightfully mine." His tongue ran along the surface of his teeth, "Your skin... It shines so deliciously in this crimson lunar light. I can't wait to see how divine you taste, My Dear."

Jamil had taken one step closer to Yuu and the Prefect's Body immediately went into Fight, Flight, or Freeze Mode. She knew that Jamil was stronger than her, so fighting was not an option at the moment. Freezing was also not a good idea as it would have made her an easy prey for a Werewolf Vice Dorm Warden. As much as she hated the idea, she knew she had to run. She quickly gripped her phone and threw it towards Jamil with all her might. The phone hit him directly in the center of his forehead, catching him off guard and causing him to snarl in pain. Jamil took a step back and held his forehead, giving Yuu just enough time to open her room door and run out down the hall. Luckily, she managed to reach the stairs just when Scarabia's Vice Dorm Warden was recovering with a smile on his face.

"Oh... Sweet Prefect. You know exactly what I want and exactly when I want it." Jamil purred before bolting out of the bedroom and chasing after Yuu, who managed to make it down the stairs and to the front door; she swung the door open and started running down the stairs just as Jamil appeared standing in the doorway of Ramshackle.

Yuu made it to the gate and ran out before heading down the path that led to the Hall of Mirrors, but that trip was cut short as Jamil landed in the middle of the path in a perfect crouch; his claws lightly scraping the ground as he looked at Yuu's horrified face.

"Prefect... You know that you are not getting away from me. Just be a good girl for me and let me feast." Jamil purred but Yuu wasn't going for that, she turned to the right and attempted to get into the forest but Jamil lunged at her and grabbed her upper arm in his grip; his claws digging into her skin, making a mark on her body and making her flinch in pain. "Stop fighting me, Prefect; just submit and everything can be less painful for you."

Yuu wasn't having it and punched the werewolf in his chest with her free hand, shocking him and causing him to release his grip on Yuu, he tried to grab her gain but all he managed to do was grab her sleeve and it tore off, leaving a piece of her shirt in Jamil's hand has she disappeared into the forest surrounding Ramshackle. Jamil looked at the piece of cloth in his caws before bringing it to his nose and deeply inhaling the scent soaked in the cloth; a pleasuring moaning exhale escaped his mouth as he placed the cloth in his pocket and chased after the Prefect of Ramshackle.

The Hunt was On.

Yuu ran for what seemed to be at least 20 Minutes, the wound on her arm was slowly bleeding and she knew she needed to deal with that or Jamil was going to sniff her out faster than ever. She went to hide behind a large tree, ripped off some of her pants leg, and tied it around the wound to absorb the blood. She was trying to catch her breath when she heard more footsteps coming, she remained as still as she possibly could and attempted to calm her racing heart as Jamil entered the area, his silver eyes scanning the area before he lifted his head and took a deep inhale of the air around him.

"Oh, Prefect... The fact that you think you can escape me fills me with so much joy; you're making me excited. Once I find you, you're going to take responsibility for this. Keep running. Keep hiding. Make me earn you. Make me worthy of you, Prefect. Please..." Jamil purred and whimpered at the same time before running off in a random direction; allowing Yuu to peek her head out and look in the direction Jamil ran. She knew he was playing with her, he was like a predator and she was the prey he was seeking.

She needed a plan to distract him long enough for her to get to the Hall of Mirrors and to one of the other dorms to seek aid. She thought for a while before she made her move; she needed to do this now and right or she was going to be devoured by a wolf with venom.

The hunt was fun and Jamil loved the rush he was feeling, the thrill of hunting the ultimate prey and ultimate reward made him purr in his throat; he loved working for what he wanted, and claiming his reward at the end made everything worth it, Yuu was giving him the hunt he wanted and she was the reward he was going to claim. He looked up at the crimson moon in the sky - it was lighter than before. The night was ending and he needed to find his prey. He needed to do what he planned before it was too late.

Jamil sniffed around and Yuu's scent hit him hard; she was nearby and she was moving fast. He darted in that direction with wide feral eyes, he was going to capture her and devour her slowly before claiming his ultimate reward. She was right in front of him and he lunged out of the bushes and pounced on the source of Yuu's scent but he was filled with shock and disappointment when he realized that he didn't have Yuu in his grasp, but a small rabbit.

The rabbit was trembling in fear as Jamil looked down at its small body, his eyes locking with the piece of cloth wrapped around the rabbit's body. He yanked it off and looked at it after releasing the small creature; it was a piece of Yuu's Pants Leg, soaked in her blood! She fooled him! She threw him off her real scent!

Her scent hit him again and he was shocked at how far away she was, he turned in that direction and bolted in that direction; he was not going to let her get away. She belonged to him! She needed to realize that.

Yuu's heart was pounding once again as she ran through the forest, her vision blurring as she stopped in a clearing where the moon's light shined. Her lungs were on fire. Her vision was shifting. Something was wrong. Something was horribly wrong. Yuu could feel it in her blood as the wound on her arm burned.

'What's... What's happening?' Yuu thought as she tried to take another step but she was walking like a drunk person; it was like she was under the influence when she never had alcohol before. She tried to shake the dizzy feeling out of her head when she was suddenly tackled to the ground and held down by her arms; her vision focused once again to see the smirking face of Jamil Viper above her. She attempted to struggle and push him off but it was as if the strength in her body was fading.

"Looks like you're all out of energy, Little Rabbit...and all out of strength; not that you need it, I'll take care of you from now on, My Sweet Prefect." Jamil purred before leaning down and burying his nose in her neck before inhaling her scent once again, "You have no idea what your scent does to me; being this close to you... it's not like smelling your sheets and clothes."

"W...What?" Yuu asked in a weak voice.

"Surely you have noticed little things about Ramshackle, Prefect. Things not quite as you left them? A small wrinkle in your sheets that wasn't there? A new food item you don't remember putting in your fridge? Your soft sweaters being moved around? That was me. All of it was me. I would want you but I could not get close enough to you, so I had to settle by inhaling your scent in Ramshackle while you were away, but I couldn't take it anymore, Prefect. I needed more. I wanted more. I wanted you. I needed you. Now? I have you but you are still not mine...not yet." Jamil smiled as a clear substance coated his fangs; it wasn't saliva... Saliva wasn't that cloudy looking.

"I'll never be yours, Viper... I'll stay away from you until I find a way home." Yuu tried to defy him but all he did was lick his lips.

"I know. That's why I never approached you like this until I had everything worked out. I knew you were going to leave me and I can't have that. I am going to make you mine, Prefect, you won't be able to survive without me once I am done with you... And I will start... By severing your connection to your original world." Jamil's words made Yuu freeze as he used his claws to tear away another piece of Yuu's shirt, the area covering her neck and collarbone.

Yuu watched in horror as Jamil opened his mouth while his pupils shined red as if he was using his Unique Magic before he lunged forward and sunk his teeth into Yuu's exposed flesh; the Prefect's screams echoed throughout the forest.

Jamil kept his grip on Yuu's neck until she calmed down and her screams died down, he smiled against her flesh as he felt her body getting warmer; the venom in his fangs was doing its job. Yuu soon fell victim to the pain and venom, causing her to pass out in Jamil's grasp before he removed his fangs from her flesh and licked the blood from his lips as he looked down at the passed-out Prefect of Ramshackle.

He looked at her bleeding wound before leaning down once again and ran his tongue along the wound, cleaning the blood and closing the wound with his saliva. Once the wound was closed and the blood was gone, he pulled away after placing a small kiss on her neck before placing another one on her forehead before looking at her sleeping face while caressing her cheek.

"I know you are going to be confused and afraid when you wake up, but I am going to be there to guide you through your new life just as you have been there to guide me. We - the underappreciated souls of Night Raven -are meant to be together; you might not understand what that means now but I will make you understand, Yuu. Tonight was your last night alone. When you wake up, you shall have a new life....with a mate that truly loves and understands you." Jamil gathered the unconscious girl in his arms before standing up, "Come along, My Diamond. Let's go home."

With that, Jamil turned on his heel and started walking through the forest with his unconscious mate slumbering in his arms as he headed back to Ramshackle; it's only natural for a newly wedded couple to spend time alone after making a lifetime commitment.

[END]

[dotster001]

Protective Charms

Summary: Malleus x gn!reader. After a fight with Malleus, both of you are employing the dirty tricks you know to get the other to talk to you/leave you alone.

CW:Minor angst in the middle,but mostly just silliness with fae lore.

A/N: My folklore major ass couldn't help but think about fae lore, so I wrote this 😂

Malleus had a habit of silently walking next to you, and threading his fingers through yours, without bothering to look.

But you were still mad at him, so….

"Ow! Child of Man!" He whined, pulling his hand away, and rubbing his fingers, a pouty expression taking over his face.

You playfully waved your fingers at him, displaying your lovely new IRON rings.

He halted his walking, and crossed his arms over his chest, his bottom lip protruding a little.

"You are being childish."

"You are being childish," you parroted back in a high pitched voice. "That's what you sound like."

"I do not!"

"I do not!"

"Lilia!!!!" He whined, turning over his shoulders to complain to his retainers and guardian, the latter of which wasn't even trying to hold back his glee.

"Ah, your first fight with your beloved. It's so nice to see you living like a regular student!"

You began to walk away again, and Malleus, once again, attempted to grab your hand, immediately forgetting your iron rings.

"Ow!" He gave you a dark glare, and boomed out, "Y/N L/N, I demand you remove those rings and talk to me."

Now you were pouting, as you found yourself removing your rings against your will. 

But the command was also to talk to him, and by God, if he wanted to talk, you'd talk.

"Alright, Lord Malleus. Let's talk," you growled, startling your boyfriend.

Sebek was about to jump at you for your attitude, but Lilia held him back.

"You promised when we started dating that you would help find a way for me to go back and forth between the worlds, then I find out, that was too hard for you so you just gave up, and never planned to tell me. Then when I bring it up you lash out at me! So yeah! Let's talk!"

The crowd that was gathering around the argument was letting out oohs and gasps.

You expected Malleus to fight back like he did the first time you had this conversation. Instead, he looked to the floor and whispered,

"I'm scared, Y/N. I'm scared of losing you."

You froze. This…was not the answer you were expecting. 

"Mal…"

"The only ways I've seen so far would take you away forever, and I thought if you knew…you'd leave me," his eyes looked uncertain for maybe the first time since you'd known him.

"Mal," you repeated, going to grab his hands. "My boyfriend is one of the most powerful mages in existence. If anyone is able to pull it off, it's him. And I'm willing to wait patiently for that. But you have to communicate with me."

You pressed a kiss to his cheek, and his cheeks turned a shade of pastel pink. 

"I understand. I will discuss my feelings and findings with you from henceforth, my treasure." He said.

"Good," you smiled.

"Will you return the iron ring from whence they came?" He asked hopefully.

"Mmm, I think I'll hold onto them, just in case," you giggled. 

He sighed, and kisses you deeply, before turning you around and holding your arms behind you back.

"Silver! Quick, the rings are in their right pocket! Take them and run!" 

"Mal!"

Silver looked conflicted, while Lilia giggled, and Sebek struggled in his grip.

"That's an order from your king, Silver," Malleus boomed authoritatively, and a shiver went down your spine.

Silver sighed, and gave you an apologetic look as you struggled.

"Sorry, Y/N," he muttered, taking the rings from your pocket, and running away.

"There, all better,"Malleus hummed in your ear. Then he turned you back around and threaded his fingers through yours, and began walking down the hallway.

"I can always buy more," you muttered.

"Y/N L/N, you will never buy anything iron ever again." 

....

Tag list- @stygianoir @shytastemakerthing

[thecampjuicebox]

Kar'niss reacting to someone protecting him from an attack and then gently tending to his injuries?

"Heretics! Villains in the dark!"

An arrow whirs past Tav's head, sticking straight up out of the ground where it lands. A small group of Harpers emerges from the darkness with bows, swords, and daggers ready to strike. And gods, do they ever. A flurry of blood and weapons flies around Tav's small group of companions and goblins with their guide, Kar'Niss, in possession of the one thing keeping them safe from the shadow curse. The ornate lantern swings back and forth, a glowing white light illuminating the surrounding area. Surely, that's what the Harpers have come for. Anything to keep them safe from the gruesome fate of being consumed by the curse.

In an instant, the sharp blade of a dagger catches the side of Kar'Niss' abdomen, a sticky fluid almost resembling blood dribbling out of the fresh wound and onto the cobblestone. "Majesty, I've been struck!" He cries, the lantern toppling from his hands and nearly shattering on the ground. Tav takes a dive toward the cobblestone. As they twist to soften the fall of the lantern, they load an arrow into their bow, aiming and firing at the Harper that took a stab at the Drider. A solid hit, right through the chest. Their leader falls with a blood curdling shriek. "Retreat! Gods damned it, retreat!" Without hesitation, group scatters and scurries back to whence they came the loud thunder of footsteps disappearing into the darkness.

The lantern shimmers in Tav's hands as they stand and scan their surroundings for safety, eyes falling on their bleeding guide. "Kar'Niss.. Are you alright?" The Drider blinks, bottom lip quivering pathetically, one hand reaching back to swipe the blood from his wound. "I've failed. I've failed her Majesty. Surely I'll be punished." His voice his soft, shame laced throughout the words. "It's just a small cut. We're all still alive, you'll be okay. You haven't failed anyone." Gentle fingers prod at the wound, the sticky blood-like fluid coating Tav's leather gloves. "We'll fix you right up."

Tav tosses their bag onto the ground and kneels down to rummage through its contents, retrieving multiple salves and balms, lining them up on the blood soaked cobblestone. Astarion crosses his arms over his chest and sighs heavily, rolling his eyes with irritation. "And why couldn't we just take the lantern and run while we had the chance?" Karlach taps her battle axe against the back of his head with a soft clink and the spawn bites his tongue. "Had Kar'Niss not been here to spot the Harpers, we would've had to face that attack with much less manpower. Be grateful." Tav hisses, approaching the Drider slowly with a cloth and small bottle in hand. They pour the bottle of liquid onto the cloth, holding it out to show Kar'Niss exactly what they're doing.

"This is just to clean the wound, okay? I'll have Shadowheart take a look at it once it's cleaned.. This may sting a little. You'll be okay." A quick inhale startles Tav as the cloth makes contact with the gash, Kar'Niss grumbling uncomfortably at the pain. "By the nine hells.." He murmurs, lanky spider legs shifting in irritation. "I know, I'm almost finished." Tav coos, one final rub of the cloth over the gash cleaning the last of the grime. Shadowheart takes a step forward to eye the wound, right hand hovering over it as golden magic swirls and sizzles. Kar'Niss reaches a hand out to Tav instinctively, searching for any kind of comfort for the pain. They intertwine their fingers and the Drider chews on his bottom lip with embarrassment. The Absolute would be ashamed by his childish display. "There. All better." Shadowheart states plainly.

The Drider turns his head, straining his neck to take a look at his freshly healed abdomen, a chuckle erupting from his throat after a moment of examination. "Miracles. They work miracles, Majesty!" Tav smiles sweetly, hoisting their backpack up over their shoulder. "Yeah.. Something like that."

[laurasimonsdaughter]

By the shore there once lived a fisherwoman and her wife. Together they had three children, each as beloved as the other. They were a sweet sight to behold. The eldest had hair the colour of chestnut, that flowed like waves. The middle one had hair the colour of mahogany, that fell down in ringlets. And the youngest had hair like ebony, that curled straight upwards.

All their days their mothers had kept careful watch over them, but one evening, when the fisherwoman had not yet returned from the open sea, her wife received an urgent message calling for her assistance. There was nothing to depend on if not the help of kind neighbours, so the woman called her children inside, drew all the curtains, and told them to stay within for as long as she was gone.

“For it will be a dark night, but a clear one,” she warned. “And you will surely end up elf-shot or pixie-led if you go out in the gloaming.”

All three of them promised faithfully not to set a foot out of doors and their mother quickly set off to be of help to her neighbour.

For a while the three children were content within, but the further the sun sank below the horizon, the more restless they became. At last the eldest could take it no longer.

“I shall only draw back one of the curtains,” he said, and all three of them crowded around the window to look.

Outside the sky had slowly turned to dark velvet and since no moon rose to light it, far before true darkness had come the shimmering pinpricks of stars appeared. The whole world seemed to glisten in soft grey and it was not long before the second of them grew twice as restless as before.

“I will only open the window,” they said, and all three of them leaned against the windowsill to breathe in the night air.

But never had the gentle wind smelled so sweet and it was not long before the youngest could no longer contain herself.

“I will only go and sit on the windowsill,” she said, but no sooner had she let her legs dangle over the side or her siblings came to join her. And once they were all there, staring up at the sky with the wind in their hair and the distant rush of the sea in their ears, it did not take long until they slid off the windowsill and jumped to the ground.

“We shall not go up to the cliffs,” they told each other. “Nor inland towards the moors. We shall only go to see the sea and then straight back again.”

After all, they would be back before their mother ever knew they were gone, and they would have done so without ever setting a foot out the door.

Gaily they ran down to the shore, where the stars hung lower above the waves than they had ever seen. White mist danced above the water, and the sea foam danced as if rising to meet it. Amidst all this splendour, they suddenly heard the soft sound of hooves and from across the starlit beach, a beautiful pony pranced towards them.

The children gasped and cried in delight. They had never seen any animal half as beautiful. Its coat was as dark as the dusk and its eyes were like shimmering pools. And it came towards them quite as if to befriend them.

“I want to ride it!” the middle child exclaimed in raptures and they eagerly rushed forward.

“No, I get to ride it!” the eldest insisted.

“No I want to!” the youngest cried.

“Then you ride behind me,” the middle one said boldly and they caught the pony, as gentle and willing as a steed could possibly be, by its long black manes.

“There will not be room for all of us on its back!” the eldest protested.

But as soon as his sibling had scrambled up the pony’s back, it was clear there was plenty of room for him left. And once he was seated astride behind them, even though it had not seemed like a large animal at all, there was precisely enough room for their little sister to join them.

So laughing and hooting they all climbed onto the pony’s back. “Giddy-up! Giddy-up!” they cried. “Ride on!”

But the pony did not trot down the beach from whence it came. It turned and tossed its manes and galloped straight for the sea.

The children screamed, but no matter how they struggled, they were incapable of dismounting. The animal’s slick coat suddenly stuck like tar and the louder they screamed, the faster it ran. There was no glee in the children now, but all the more in the creature, for kelpies delight in their cruel games. Neighing and whinnying it rushed towards the waves, but with only seven strides away from the foaming tide the youngest of the children cried:

“Your pocket knife! Take your pocket knife!”

And quick as a fox she grabbed her own little knife from her skirt pocket and cut through the cloth so that it ripped and tore and she was free. Her brother and sibling followed suit and one after the other they tumbled off the speeding creature’s back, with only the fabric of their clothes left behind as the kelpie plunged screaming into the waves.

The mist whirled and the sea broiled and then there was nothing left to be seen, but the children did not stand to look. They ran, breathless and wide-eyed, hearts pounding and feet flying, all the way back to their home.

There they found their mother, pale with worry. And so glad was she to see them all safe and sound that she did not even scold them for going out into such a dangerous night, nor for tearing all their pretty clothes.

For the rest of their lives, those three children watched the waves for a sign of the kelpie, but not a trace of it could be found. Not a hoof print in the sand, not a strand of midnight mane, not even a whisper on the cold sea breeze.

[silentxsymphony]

You Don’t Understand, I Need Pie

900 words of Loki x Supernatural nonsense detailing Loki and Castiel seeking pie for their human boyfriends. Dedicated to my Automat server friends always willing to indulge my silliness and be my cheerleaders 🥰🥧

gif credit to the wildly talented @lokimobius

Castiel narrowed his eyes as his attention shifted from the terrified convenience store employee to the strange rectangle of orange light that just appeared beside him. A tall, dark-haired man stepped through the light as if it were some kind of door and looked around the shop curiously. 

“I hear this establishment has pie?”

Castiel released his grip on the employee, who took the opportunity to sprint through a door to the back of the store. He sensed an aura of power emanating from the other man that was unfamiliar and made him uneasy. 

“Yes…I, too, was in search of pie. Do you know where to find it?”

The other man smoothed a hand down the tie that had apparently been rumpled during his interdimensional travels. 

“Well, since you were already here and in the process of…accosting that unsuspecting human, I assumed you might already know.”

If possible, Castiel’s eyes squinted into even thinner slits at the specification of the word ‘human.’ 

“Well, I don't know. That’s why I needed his assistance,” Cas replied. “And now he’s gone.”

The other man rolled his eyes. “I certainly don’t know how to navigate one of these Midgardian monstrosities. And I don’t think I want to obtain pie from here. The odor in this shop is…unfortunate,” he arched a brow. “And you are?” 

Cas bristled at the way the other man looked down his nose at him. “My name is Castiel. And I’m an Angel of the Lord.”

“An angel?” He paused, considering. “How quaint.” 

Cas felt his irritation prickle further and nearly summoned the power to smite this interloper with the palm of his hand before he was interrupted. 

“Oh do calm down. I want no quarrel with you. I sensed there was someone else on this timeline projecting a need similar to my own and sought it out. I’m merely trying to complete this errand and get back from whence I came. Hopefully with pie in hand. Key lime, if possible.” 

Cas watched as the stranger raked a hand through his dark hair. It was only his sensitive hearing that allowed Cas to hear him mutter, “Mobius will be so disappointed if I’m not successful. He’s been cranky and out of sorts since the Automat has been closed for repairs.”

Cas blinked owlishly as the other man snapped his fingers and pointed at him. “I have an idea.” He stiffened as he approached him. “You have no reason to fear me.” Cas tilted his head as the other man reached out his hand. “My name is Loki, and I believe we could help each other in our endeavors.” 

Sensing no threat after a gentle prod with his grace, Cas cautiously extended his hand to shake Loki’s. 

When they parted, Loki flashed a smile. “There, now that we are properly acquainted.” He tapped his own temple before pointing toward Cas’. “This is how your magic works, yes?”

Cas almost huffed an irritated retort of “it’s not magic, it’s grace” but figured it wouldn’t help him in his quest for Dean’s pie. “Yes, essentially.”

Loki held both of his hands between them, palms up. “Think of the pie you seek. I will do the same.” He nodded toward Cas’ hands. 

Hesitating only a moment before he realized what Loki was suggesting, Cas raised his own hands and placed his fingertips gently against Loki’s temples. Loki smiled and closed his eyes, his face taking on a certain softness as he concentrated on the pie he sought – or, more likely, the one he sought the pie for. 

Sensing no danger, Cas closed his own eyes and thought of Dean. The way his eyes lit up when a diner had freshly baked pie. The way he’d giddily lick the whipped cream and filling from his fork and make happy little noises that did fluttery things to Cas’ belly. The way the smell of the spices of his beloved apple pie would cling to him after he’d devoured a slice. 

“Perfect!” 

Cas’ eyes snapped open and he followed Loki’s pleased gaze down to his opened palms. Faintly glowing green at the edges, each hand held a plate with a picture perfect piece of pie. A steaming slice of apple complete with exquisitely latticed crust in one hand and a cool, delicately airy slice of key lime topped with whipped cream in the other. 

Loki beamed once more at his efforts before drawing the plate with the key lime back toward himself and gesturing for Cas to take the other. 

“This was most helpful, Castiel. Thank you.” He reached into his pocket with his free hand and pressed a button on a strange-looking contraption that had the same rectangular passage of light as before appearing beside him. 

“Hope your companion enjoys his pie,” Loki said with a wink before he stepped through the passageway and it blipped closed behind him. 

Cas blinked at the plate in his hand and took a curious sniff. It smelled exactly how Dean’s favorite pie should. He held a curious hand over the warm slice and sent a questing pulse of grace over it. While he could still sense something a bit otherworldly about it, he could tell it would pose no threat to Dean. 

Convinced the pie was safe, Cas shrugged and held the plate steady before sending himself back to Dean with a blink of his eyes. 

He couldn’t wait to regale Dean with the strangest story. 

[thebrickinbrick]

Many Interrogation Points With Regard to a Certain Le Cabuc Whose Name May Not Have Been Le Cabuc, Part 1

THE tragic picture which we have undertaken would not be complete, the reader would not see these grand moments of social birth-pangs in a revolutionary birth, which contain convulsion mingled with effort, in their exact and real relief, were we to omit, in the sketch here outlined, an incident full of epic and savage horror which occurred almost immediately after Gavroche's departure.

Mobs, as the reader knows, are like a snowball, and collect as they roll along, a throng of tumultuous men. These men do not ask each other whence they come. Among the passers-by who had joined the rabble led by Enjolras, Combeterre, and Courfeyrac, there had been a person wearing the jacket of a street porter, which was very threadbare on the shoulders, who gesticulated and vociferated, and who had the look of a drunken savage. This man, whose name or nickname was Le Cabuc, and who was, moreover, an utter stranger to those who pretended to know him, was very drunk, or assumed the appearance of being so, and had seated himself with several others at a table which they had dragged outside of the wine-shop.

This Cabuc, while making those who vied with him drunk, seemed to be examining with a thoughtful air the large house at the extremity of the barricade, whose five stories commanded the whole street and faced the Rue Saint-Denis. All at once he exclaimed: "Do you know, comrades, it is from that house yonder that we must fire. When we are at the windows, the deuce is in it if any one can advance into the street!"

"Yes, but the house is closed," said one of the drinkers.

"Let us knock!"

"They will not open."

"Let us break in the door!”

Le Cabuc runs to the door, which had a very massive knocker, and knocks. The door opens not. He strikes a second blow. No one answers. A third stroke. The same silence.

“Is there any one here?" shouts Cabuc.

Nothing stirs.

Then he seizes a gun and begins to batter the door with the butt end.

It was an ancient alley door, low, vauited, narrow, solid, entirely of oak, lined on the inside with a sheet of iron and iron stays, a genuine prison postern. The blows from the butt end of the gun made the house tremble, but did not shake the door.

Nevertheless, it is probable that the inhabitants were disturbed, for a tiny, square window was finally seen to open on the third story, and at this aperture appeared the reverend and terrified face of a gray-haired old man, who was the porter, and who held a candle.”

The man who was knocking paused.

"Gentlemen," said the porter, "what do you want?'

"Open!" said Cabuc.

“That cannot be, gentlemen."

"Open, nevertheless."

"Impossible, gentlemen."

Le Cabuc took his gun and aimed at the porter; but as he was below, and as it was very dark, the porter did not see him. "Will you open, yes or no?"

"No, gentlemen."

"Do you say no?"

"I say no, my good--”

The porter did not finish. The shot was fired: the ball entered under his chin and came out at the nape of his neck, after traversing the jugular vein.

The old man fell back without a sigh. The candle fell and was extinguished, and nothing more was to be seen except a motionless head lying on the sill of the small window, and a little whitish smoke which floated off towards the roof.

"There!" said Le Cabuc, dropping the butt end of his gun to the pavement.

He had hardly uttered this word, when he felt a hand laid on nis shoulder with the weight of an eagle's talon, and he heard a voice saying to him:

"On your knees.”

[stellae-de-baphometis]

🍂 ~ A Daemonolatry Prayer/ Rite For Samhain ~ 🍂

+ . . . Divider Credit . . . +

So it's Samhain in the Southern Hemisphere (where I live lol) and I found some really neat Samhain prayers/rites on this website while I was trying to get some ideas for how I was gonna celebrate this year. Well, I thought it would be a really cool idea to make a daemonic parody of these prayers for my personal celebration of the holiday as a Daemonolatrist, as well as for others who may be interested!

I modified and added onto what was originally an invocation for Pan, as well as a bestowing of blessings upon the Dead. I decided to just turn it into a sort of prayer/rite to the daemons of death (whilst also keeping in the part of bestowing blessings onto the Dead). I also added some bits and pieces from other rites on the same webpage too. And so, I came up with; A Rite To The Mortem Daemons! 🧡

~ ~ Rite To The Mortem Daemons ~

O Mortem Daemons of the Afterland, Guardians of the Beloved Dead, we pour forth love on those you keep safely within your peaceful stead.

Eurynomos, he who lays the bodies back to whence all creatures came, decomposing in the Earth where new life springs up yet again.

Bifrous, he who guards the graves and lights the path for all the dead, a shining lantern in the dark, for souls to see now what’s ahead.

Gamigin, she who carries the souls to the Afterland where they may rest, leading lost souls by the hand and freeing them from their unrest.

Murmur, they who plays sweet music for the dead to unify in song, and as the music chimes and plays, we all shall sing and dance along.

Bune, she who communes with the dead and brings them back unto the Earth, so that the dead may visit us and indulge with us in joy and mirth.

O Mortem Daemons of the Afterland, Guardians of the Beloved Dead, we vow our everlasting love forever and ever, until the end.

We bless those who have walked the path that someday, we as well, shall rove. We offer peace unto their souls while resting in your arms below.

Original prayers and rites by Ravenna Angelline.

[littlecactiguy]

A short writing exercise on John Doe from Malevolent, roughly based on a short video from I want to say late last summer/fall where Harlan voiced over them doing a farming game (I think? It's been a while, but I'm fairly certain that was a thing. Anyway, it's been sitting as a draft that long).

Let me know what you think <3 I'm considering signing up for the big bang as a writer, but want to get a feel for this fandom space before I commit to anything.

.

Of the three horses in the pasture, only the one John himself has now learned to ride comes over at his approach to the fence. Arthur’s gelding’s ears rotate in his direction, but the creature doesn’t seem to consider John more important than his grazing. The big, old draft horse who came with the small farm, and is enjoying his retirement immensely, continues to enjoy both the sunlight and his nap.

John isn’t so self absorbed as to believe his mare has any specific allegiance to him. She’s a horse. She’s intelligent, but he’s not been convinced that she has the capacity to understand the finer points of reasoning on why she shouldn’t ally herself with a former horror from beyond human comprehension. She’s simply learned to associate him with certain things.

Slowly, John takes the apple he’d snatched from the kitchen table fruit bowl out of his pocket.

Like treats. Mostly treats.

John holds out his hand, the apple carefully balanced on his palm. His mare sniffs. Her whiskers tickle his hand. Then, she accepts the offering. The mare’s lips rub against John’s hand as she takes and crushes the apple between her powerful teeth.

It’s a strange sensation, but not an unpleasant one. John has found he rather likes it. Touching a fellow living creature, feeling its warmth and its life beneath his fingertips is…

It’s hard to describe. Despite his attempts to do so in a journal he has firmly told Arthur he’ll murder him for if he ever comes close to reading, John still doesn’t know how. His relationship to sensation while in Arthur’s body has become a hazy dream he can only half-remember, but the parts he does…

Those are…

They weren’t all bad, John often convinces himself. The cold and the chill, the empty, simply all haunt in a way warmth, true warmth, not the burning heat of freshly spilled blood, do not. It makes their memory sharper in his mind’s eye, easier to recall.

John’s mare steps closer, reaching her head over the fence to nuzzle at his pockets.

“I’m afraid that’s all I have today.” John strokes her mane. Focuses on the softness. Allows the thought of its comfort to wash the fragments of dark doubts back into the deep ocean from whence they came. “Arthur may have a point about too many treats, but we won’t tell him that, will we?”

This mare had never been afraid of John, or growled at him like various dogs he’d met, whose eyes told John they could see him in ways others could not. He’d attributed her lack of fear, at first, to her perhaps not being all that smart, but the mare has indicated otherwise (largely through pasture escape attempts, which John can’t truly fault her for, being able to go where you want when you want is quite nice).

He doesn’t believe she’d ally herself with him if she knew any better, but horses, even the dim ones, are also notoriously, instinctively, jumpy creatures.

John’s mare’s calm around him makes him feel something he refuses to put to words in fear it’ll be chased away.

Even if it’s only, obviously, most likely only due to the apples.

[quillthrillswriting]

we don't talk enough about how often katara saves aang. like she fully figured out how to pull water from somebody's LUNGS for him. ugh i love her!!!!

the following is an excerpt from my kataang multichapter fic called "the teenager in the iceberg", where aang is aged up to 16 in order to flip him and katara's dynamic into she falls first, he falls harder. this is from chapter four, which JUST DROPPED TODAY!!:D <3

⁎⁺˳ ✧༚ ˎˊ˗ ♡ ˗ˏˋയ ✩

 She watched in horror as dark fins began to rise from the water, and Aang looked back at her with fear in his eyes. He rose from the water, struggling to hold on to the shiny scales of the Unagi. The beast’s head rose out of the water alongside its torso, and it tipped its head curiously at the sight of Aang on its back, baring its teeth as it did. Aang jumped, swinging on the creature’s whiskers, trying to evade its sword-sized teeth. Without notice, it snapped its jaws open, unnaturally wide to the point of unhinging, and a concentrated jet of water shot out of its throat, sending Aang flying across the bay towards Katara. Even from the distance she was at, she could see that his body had landed wrong, unnatural, crumpled.

“AANG!” She shouted, wading into the water as quickly as she could, hoping with all her will that she could somehow outrun this ancient serpent hell bent on getting to Aang before she could. Aang didn’t stir. Against her own pessimistic judgement of their odds of survival, Katara somehow managed to scoop Aang against her, holding him tight. He was unconscious, and she couldn’t see if he was breathing. Another bolt of fear struck through her. Through blurry vision made hazy by fear and anger, Katara watched the Unagi rear its head again, but instead of holding Aang against her and waiting for their inevitable end, she struck back.

It happened so quickly, the wave of water that mirrored the rising tide of anger crashing through Katara’s own body. Her hand moved as if she wasn’t in complete control, and perhaps she wasn’t. Perhaps the spirits of water had looked kindly upon the two kindred souls. Or perhaps, Katara had simply moved in accordance with what the pure adrenaline that seemed to replace her very blood demanded. 

The two of them were thrown backwards, Katara’s wave of water pushing them to the safety of the shore. She allowed herself only a second to catch her breath before rolling over to check on Aang.

Still, the Airbender did not stir.

“Aang. Please , wake up.”

He did not breathe.

She closed her eyes, running her hand along his chest, the heat that normally radiated from him snuffed out entirely. She could feel water there, in his lungs, weighing them down. The wrongness of it . She could feel the liquid tugging at her, the molecules themselves wishing to return to the ocean from whence they came.

She obliged them.

Katara coaxed out a thin tendril of the seawater, watching nervously as Aang shuddered involuntarily as the stream of liquid flowed through his lips. He coughed. Coughed again.

Another cough, and his eyes opened, and she was met with the comforting vibrance of his storm-cloud eyes. 

“K-Katara,” He managed, the words strained by salt and sea. “Don’t ride the Unagi. Not fun .”

⁎⁺˳ ✧༚ ˎˊ˗ ♡ ˗ˏˋയ ✩

♥ check out the first four chapters of this (ongoing) fic & my ao3 here! ->