#a lot of these drawings have been featuring sharp teeth

[ozzgin]

Yandere!Monster x Reader [Asylum Spider]

A/N: This feels a little bit strange to post. It's an older OC (the drawing I used is like 3 years old) I had for a horror manga. I thought it would make a good yandere if you're into actual monsters. And the atmosphere is a lot like an indie horror rpg. :)

You wake up in a damp, dark room with no recollection of how you ended up here. Hovering above you is a repugnant beast whose appearance terrifies you into silence. Yet it doesn’t attack you. Quite the opposite, it seems to want to guide you outside. You must escape quickly, as whatever lurks above causes the creature to squirm in fear. Yet as departure approaches, a desire blooms within its ancient heart: must you really leave it behind?

TW: Monsters, horror, implied violence/abuse

Your vision is blurry and your head is throbbing with a harrowing, unbearable headache. You've been awakened from your unexplainable slumber by cold yet burning drops of liquid hitting your cheek at irregular intervals. You squint and try to focus on whatever lies before you. Slowly, the object becomes sharper and your eyes widen in terror. Drooling above you, a monstrosity. It looks almost human. Sharp, curved teeth are grotesquely gawking their way out. The skin is discolored, similar to the blueish tint of someone struck by hypothermia. The creature seems to be wearing a strange sort of straight jacket, tightly securing the arms and ending in a shredded rag, dangling between the skinny, crooked legs. Yet the most disturbing feature are the massive arthropod appendages that fan out from behind, suspending the abomination above ground.

The ridiculous, offensive sight drains the blood from your face and you hold your breath. You wait for the final blow that never arrives. It lowers its head and inhales deeply, trying to detect if you're still alive. Satisfied with the answer, it scurries aside and leaves you enough space to lift yourself up. The wide smile remains plastered on its face, making it look like a deformed mannequin. With nothing left to lose, you decide to risk it. "Can you talk?" you mumble, unsure about the potential response. It shakes its head in denial and you raise your eyebrows. So it can understand human speech.

You stand up and look around. There's a pungent smell irritating your nostrils, and large pipes slither their way over walls and ceilings in a maze of rusted metal. The floor is flooded and your ankles are sunken in murky water. Above the only door hangs an old plaque, eaten by mold and age. "W∎ter & Drain∎∎∎: Pro∎∎rty of ∎∎∎∎∎ Asylum". Ah. This must be the sewers, then. How did you even end up in the sewers of an asylum? Maybe someone upstairs can provide you with answers. You turn to the creature that has been obediently observing you.

"Can you take me to the main building?"

The humanoid spider screeches and trashes its appendages across the water. You jolt and step back instinctively. Is it mad? Have you upset it somehow? No, if anything, it looks afraid. You stare at its bizarre convulsions until it occurs to you the movements aren't quite as erratic as you assumed. It is drawing something using a swamped patch of ground.

Don't let find you Get out

You're choking with dread again. The ominous words send a cold chill down your spine and you shiver, helpless.

"How am I supposed to get out if I don't know where the exit is?" You demand with your last ounce of energy. 

It wobbles its way towards the door, and stops to face you expectantly. Is it offering to guide you? You're not quite sure whether to trust the ghoulish creature, but the rotting room is filling you with panic. 

Anything is better than being alone here. 

What a suffocating atmosphere. The corridors are tall, narrow and black. You can barely discern anything around you and the only sounds are the ghastly echoes of the metal creaking and bending from the water pressure. That, and your uncertain steps across the muddy flow. You glance at the creature. Its eyes are covered by a leather blindfold, so the darkness mustn't be an impediment for it. Then again, how can it tell its way within this colossal labyrinth?

"Is this where you live?" you whisper, trying to make conversation. You need something to distract you from your pounding heart.

It nods hesitantly. 

Your foot hits something and you instinctively attempt to kick it off. Perhaps some algae that begun developing in this forgotten grave. It seems to have wrapped around your ankle, so you bend down to remove it with your hands. It's a soaked sheet of paper. The ink has mostly diffused into the page, but you can still read some of the larger headlines. "Dozens have disappeared. The mystery of the abandoned Asylum, believed to be haunted by the countless victims of horrid experimentation". Next to the title is a photograph too smudged to make out.

You stop in your tracks, focused on the blurry letters. The monster patiently waits for you. Is it something to be asked? You gaze up at its features, trying to take in the details. You take a deep breath in and open your mouth. 

"Did they...um...do this to you upstairs?"

It seems to ponder your question with the same unfaltering grin that now feels painfully forced. Finally, it nods.

What a strange little creature you are. He returns your curious stare. Now that he thinks about it, you must be the very first person to follow him. When was the last time he spoke to another living creature? He can't remember. The others would panic beyond control at the mere sight of him, blindly running away and getting lost in the sewers. Later he'd find their bodies quickly decomposing under the running water, and he'd dispose of them outside. No one deserves to die here. The really unfortunate ones made it upstairs, into the asylum. He'd rather not brood over it. 

Yet here you are, asking questions and walking alongside him as if you were on a stroll. He doubts he's gotten less hideous over the years. Then again, he can't see to confirm. Just as he can't see you. Despite his lack of vision, he is overwhelmed by the feeling that you're a beautiful being. You must be. And thankfully, you won't have to worry yourself with any of the horrors lurking these cursed grounds for much longer. He'll help you escape.

Then he'll be alone once more. It shouldn't bother him this much, it's always been like this. But meeting you has reminded him just how much he missed the presence of another human, how dearly he longed for a kind voice. Is it selfish to fear isolation? 

"Oh! You're right, I can see a gate from here." You exclaim in gratitude. 

You sprint towards the rusty bars and feel a cool breeze against your skin. This must lead outside. The creature has kept its word. Soon enough all of this will be a nightmare of the past.

"I-" 

The monster seems to be making an effort to speak, but all that comes out is a dissonant croak. You're confused and he can sense it. 

Must you really leave him behind? He needs to let you know that he'd like to stay with you, but his throat is contracting pointlessly and there's nothing he can use as a writing surface. What is there to do? His chest is tightening with the frenzied desire to keep you with him forever.

Please don't leave him.

[jadeleechsupportgroup]

Bittersweet

malleus as therapy.

cw: mental illness, suicide mention/ideation, overdose mention, psychological trauma. no gore or horror though.

(wrote this a while ago. based on a real life event for me.)

“It is difficult for me to understand.”

Malleus’s voice draws me out of the fog of my own mind and back to reality like the tether of a wayward life preserver. I wonder what he would think of this comparison.

“What is?” I ask, hoping not to make it too obvious that I wasn’t listening. I was, at first. I just have a lot going on right now. I always do.

He slow-blinks, catlike, lizardlike, dragonlike, his spring green eyes focusing on me a bit more purposefully. “That humans treat birthdays as occasions to celebrate,” he says, possibly repeating himself, to my sheepish guilt. “They have such short lifespans, yet they are so eager to lose another year each time.”

“Oh.” I clutch my stomach. I feel sick, and not because I ate too much cake. “Well, it’s not that simple. I-”

Deuce and Ace and Grim have started a conga line. I instinctively wince away from the noise, even though they're my best friends and I love seeing them happy, because the whole room is too loud and too close and I really think I might hurl.

“I, um, I’ll be right back.”

I set my paper plate aside and dart - slink - scrabble away from the chaos. I feel an episode coming on, or maybe it’s been playing for a while now, like a show I put on Netflix and left forgotten on autoplay until it asks me if I’m still watching. The brambles of unwanted memories tug at me with sharp fingers.

I wind up in the Diasomnia courtyard. It has benches under trees. It has a fountain. It has fog because of course it does, it’s Diasomnia. I sit on a bench and shut my eyes and grit my teeth against the acid burning through my stomach.

[ ping ]

My phone wants my attention. Normally it’s superglued/surgically attached to my hand, and muscle memory politely shoves me toward checking it, but I can’t look.

[ ping ] [ ping ] [ ping ]

The messages flicker before my eyes as clearly as when I first read them.

[ ping ]

It was weird, I had thought at the time. A couple vague posts from my friends popped up in my feed at random. Eventually I messaged one to find out what happened.

[ ping ] [ ping ]

Overdose, they’d said. Insulin and antidepressants. A month’s supply of hoarded medications. Suddenly the posts made awful sense. Claws gripped my heart and made it hard to breathe.

[ ping ]

“I had almost forgotten that humans can tell lies.”

Malleus’s voice startles me out of my woeful thoughts. “What?” I ask stupidly.

He gazes down at me. His features are shrouded by the dark, but I can see the downward turn of his mouth and feel the intensity of his eyes. He’s concerned. “You said you would be right back.”

I turn away from him and look at the ground. “Sorry,” I mumble. “You wanna sit down?”

He does. His presence warms the air next to me. I want to isolate myself - it’s so easy - but I make myself scoot closer to him so he can at least hold my hand.

“A lot of people hate birthdays,” I blurt out abruptly. “Like, they gripe about getting older, usually.”

My hand curls up tighter. He’s so different from me, all soothing heat and composure and grace to my sharp edges and cold, jittery nightmare of an existence.

“Is that what troubles you?” he asks quietly. His voice helps.

“No.” My voice wobbles, about to fall off the balance beam. This was not how I pictured having this conversation. In fairness, I had hoped it was a conversation I would never need to have. “A couple years ago. Something bad happened.”

Malleus is yet unfamiliar with many a human habit and social convention, but it seems he has learned at least one from me. He lifts one arm and rests it along the back of my shoulders.

My voice goes strangely cold and steady.

“My friend died. Killed herself. She overdosed and had seizures for ten days until they took her off life support the day before my birthday.”

The words linger like the bitter fog of my breath in the air. He says nothing.

“I hate my birthday now. I’m mad at her for doing this to me. I hate myself for being mad at her. I hate it because it could’ve been-”

My voice hitches as if caught on a sharp edge. If I open my mouth to try again, I know I’ll choke on tears.

“It could have been you?”

He poses the question as delicately as the touch of a fallen petal.

I’ve already cried over this so much that I don’t think I can ever cry again. But I’m finding it hard to breathe, the air escaping from my chest in erratic puffs of visible vapor.

[ ping ]

I hated the group chat they’d made. A dozen semi-strangers propping each other up with worthless promises that she would be okay, even though I knew the moment I heard the news that she wouldn’t make it. So many people lamenting how sad it was. So many “my door is always open”s.

“I think I understand.”

Malleus speaks close to my ear. I fall into his embrace as though collapsing under the weight of my words.

“It is not about celebrating the loss of a year,” he says in a soft murmur, “but the completion of one that might have been lost.” He strokes my hair. “As if conquering a great foe in battle.”

“Mhm. Slaying the dragon.”

It’s out of my mouth before I can stop it. But he laughs.

“I should hope not. It is my birthday, after all.”

“Yeah. Sorry I’m making you miss it.”

“All is well.” He leans his head against mine. “I do not believe I am missing anything.”

I want to accept this as a wistful sentiment, but I make myself stand up. “Well, contrary to popular belief,” I say, taking both of his hands in my own, “birthday parties aren’t exclusively for you.” I give a light tug to pull him to his feet, and he rises with the poise of a dancer. “They’re also for your friends to eat cake and play games and be super obnoxious. So you shouldn’t leave them hanging.”

I never thought I would find the lights and crowd noise of a party welcoming, but I welcome it. Malleus keeps a hand around my shoulders - protective, comforting - until he’s certain I’ve recovered enough to stand on my own. I’m not quite up to joining the conga line, but I help myself to another slice of cake and some bonbons and a cup of punch.

“Feeling better?”

Lilia winks into existence next to me.

I’ve given up asking how he did that or when he showed up or anything else to the tune of fact-checking him against reality. “I forget you two can hear a pin drop in the next zip code,” I say as flatly as I can.

He gives a light laugh and pats my head. “I only want to make sure you are well,” he says.

“I think given my track record it’s safe to say that I’ve never been very well, Lilia.”

A strange expression settles over his eyes. Something knowing. Something…aged.

“It is never easy to face a monster in battle,” he says. “No matter your experience, your skills, your preparation- every confrontation is unique.”

I hold eye contact with him and sense I am speaking to a very different man.

“Do you know the meaning of bravery, young one?”

“Something something not being afraid of things?” I offer.

His smile politely declines my suggestion. “Silver made that mistake as well.” Lilia reaches over and taps me on the nose. “To be fearless is not to be brave, child of man. True courage lies in having fear and choosing to fight regardless of it.”

My gaze sweeps back to Malleus. Sebek is losing any composure he might have had due to a smear of frosting marring his lord’s white blazer. I look down at the half-finished cake in front of me. “It never stops, does it?” My voice comes out in a half-whispered croak. “I’ll never win.”

Lilia ruffles my hair. “You won’t know unless you try, young one.” His smirk never wavers, but it looks more genuine. “Besides,” he says with a knowing glance at my band of idiots - Grim balancing precariously atop Ace’s shoulders and trying to place a birthday tiara around Malleus’s horns - “it is hardly as though you are fighting alone.”

[bigmfrat]

Having a rough time so have some spec evo crumbs that have been sitting in the squidcord for months that I only just got around to drawing to distract myself with

Teeth fall out regularly and are quickly replaced.

Only Minor and Minor/intercaste (more on this below the line) have feeding Tentacles.

Feeding Tentacles are stiffer than your regular tenties and remain in pockets when not in use. The ends also have very small teeth for gripping, they feel like velcro.

Teeth are dull but their jaws are for crushing bone so it doesnt matter.

"Venom" (bone melting enzyme) is black, sticky, and viscous, can be spit but is always a last resort. Most bites are dry bites.

Claws come out of the tip of the finger as apposed to the top like humanoids

Like cats and dogs, Illithid have a quick, if damaged it will bleed (a lot)

Claws dull with use and must be taken care of to be sharp

Caste System

The Primordial Illithid society resembled that of an ant colony but on a smaller scale, their species naturally came in three basic castes that had their own biological functions. The modern Terrestrial illithids have retained the physical characteristics of their ancestors, though are now much smaller, and they no longer serve any function in their society.

The three base castes are:

Major

Height Range: 6'8 - 7'5

Prey species: Humans, Half Orcs, Dragonborn, High Elves, Tiefling

Physical Traits: Longer tentacles, Longer and usually pointed braincase

Birthrate: 1

Media

Height Range: 5'7 - 6'9

Prey species: Humans, Elves, Tiefling, Drow

Physical Traits: Medium tentacles, Rounded head, Most often have "beaks" - but not always, this trait is seen less with each generation.

Birthrate: 3

Minor

Hight Range: 4'5 - 5'9

Prey Species: Gnomes, Halflings, dwarves, Drow

Physical Traits: Shorter tentacles, Longer and pointed braincase.

Birthrate: 4

Minors have a few unique features and are the most faithful to their home world ancestors, the first being two long and thin feeding tentacles that remain retracted in their throats until they find prey, and two specially adapted tentacles on their forehead used as communication displays, these two traits have been entirely lost on the other two castes, Despite these 4 extra "tentacles" they are not to be mistaken for Ulitharids. Minors are also extremely rare outside of colonies despite being the most plentiful caste, this is due to their function in their original society as caretakers and homemakers, a Minor is more likely to take re-education over expulsion due to their social needs and most renegade Minors tend to be Inter-caste.

Each caste is biologically inclined to its individual food items, even with free access to enthralled meals of any race, they will usually stick to their preferred prey.

Three additional castes:

Ulitharid

Height Range: A foot above the intended caste's average height

Prey Species: Humans, Elves, Tieflings, Dragonborn, Half Orcs

Physical traits: Two additional tentacles, usually thinner but longer than the main four.

Birthrate: 0.002

Any caste can become an Ulitharid.

Inter-caste Inter-caste is the closest thing you will get to a hybrid when it comes to Illithid. Each tadpole holds the full range of natural genetic code and has the potential to become any caste, what determines the end result is the tadpole's lineage; If the parent was a Media, the child will also be a Media. In the case of Inter-caste, however, one or two traits from one of the other castes may unintentionally come through. This can result in a Major with shorter tentacles or an unusually tall Minor.

Apex (more on Apex Illithid found here) Illithid super soldiers. Built like a tank with an intelligence to match, while their psionics are rather basic, they make up for it with an insane might and an ingrained determination to get the job done. Very rare and will ALWAYS be pure Majors.

None of these castes are natural, Ulitharids and Apex specifically did not exist until Elderbrains took over the race and while inter-castes did happen on occasion, they were much rarer before the Illithids were domesticated.

Other traits unrelating to castes:

Illithid DNA is very malleable and significant changes can be made in a single generation, while Elderbrain aren't the best at gene editing some differences can clearly be seen between colonies. The most noticeable example is their foot configuration: while Illithid living in a more aquatic environment will have the standard two webbed toes tipped with a large claw, their somewhat "dryer" cousins may sport a more humanoid approach with 3-4 webbed toes in the traditional Illithid style. A mindflayer with Human hands or feet however would be seen as deformed.

[moonchildstyles]

lily of the valley

oleander final part: y/n never pictured that her night would end like this.

wordcount: 16.2k+

cw: lots of talk ab blood and the consumption of blood! some descriptions of people who have passed away, but thats really it!

—————

(Y/N) stood behind the apothecary counter, chin resting in her palm with her eyes gazing out the window. The rain had returned last night, bringing with it a lingering fog and cloudy sky. Barely anyone was out and about, leaving (Y/N) feeling as if she were the only soul left in the village. The same way she had felt since leaving the castle and ghosting through the world without anyone the wiser to what she had learned that night. 

The last week had been one of wandering thoughts and conflicting dreams. More than once, she had woken in a cold sweat, a flashing nightmare of Harry hovering over her, his mouth full of sharp teeth and blood. She would wake with her heart in her throat and lungs tight, but the only thing that could calm her was the thought of Harry himself comforting her. She would replay a fantasy of him coaxing her down from her fright, those concerned eyes and gentle touch helping draw her in.

Soon enough, as the days packed on, those nightmares were few and far between, leaving (Y/N) with only questions and intrigue replacing her initial fear. Distance and time from him allowed the memories of his care to rise to the surface; his promise of never bringing her any harm and the actions to back it up were at the forefront of her mind. 

He had said they would see one another soon, after enough time had passed to allow her to wrap her head around it all. (Y/N) was beginning to itch for that time to come sooner rather than later. 

As if someone had been listening into her thoughts, a familiar bone white horse emerged through the fog, looking more phantom than animal. The rider had long dark hair and pale features. It was Harry's footman—Mitchell.

He was the one that hadn't learned his self-control yet. (Y/N) stiffened at the thought.

The horse was guided right to the apothecary where Mitchell hopped off the stead and tied the reins to the latch outside of the shop. (Y/N) didn't know how to keep her eyes away now that she knew what he was. 

The similarities to Harry only increased as she looked at him through a different lens. They were both impossibly graceful, lacking any flaw. Mitchell moved with a restrained strength, as if he were holding back with every movement causing him to look almost mechanical. She wondered if Harry was always holding back in the same way, but had mastered the art of blending in. 

There was no hesitancy this time when he came in. Stepping over the floorboards, he still lacked any real show of presence as nothing creaked under him or rattled around his weight. His sharp eyes landed on her immediately. 

"Ms. (Y/N)," he greeted with a nod, his voice low and clipped. Reaching into his jacket pocket, he pulled out a familiar, opulent envelope. The last time she had seen one of these was when her father had thrown the piece into the furnace, effectively banning her from going to Harry's home. "From Harry," he murmured, passing off the piece. He took great care in ensuring their skin didn't brush. 

"Thank you," she answered, a small smile on her lips, "Mitchell." 

This time, she didn't wait for the footman to leave before she was breaking the wax seal and opening the flap to the letter. Inside was a simple letter, written out in curling letters on elaborate stationary. 

My dearest, (Y/N), 

       I hope I am not asking for too much to see you again so soon. I know we had agreed on coming together so I may offer answers to any and all questions you have, but if you would prefer to no longer see one another, I understand. If that is the case, tell Mitchell as much and I will no longer contact you if that will make you the most comfortable.

       If you are still open to seeing me again, I would like to invite you back to my home. I will arrange for the carriage to ferry you up here, and we will spend the evening discussing whatever you please. If you'll have me. 

       I hope to hear from you again soon. 

      Yours,

      Harry xx

Just as she finished skimming her eyes over the text, she saw Mitchell out of the corner of her eye attempting to flee just as silently as he had before. 

"Wait," she said, stopping him in his tracks before he could push open the door. 

He moved stiffly to face her, his dark eyes clear. "Yes?" 

"Hold on," she floundered, searching the counter for the steel pen and inkwell she had stored under the podium. "If I put my response on here, could you take it back to him, please?" 

Mitchell gave a single nod of agreement. 

This letter had been exactly what she was hoping she would see today. The small correspondence sparked those dimming memories of Harry she had been treasuring every night before bed. She could hear the words in his voice, see his pinched features and worried brow. 

The only problem she found within the lines was his choice of location. She didn't have the confidence to stage another sneak out in the middle of the night, not trusting herself to keep silent and away from prying eyes so soon after the last time. While she had done a well enough job, no one having approached her about anything they could have seen that night, she didn't trust that she could do it as well this next time when she had more nerves working against her. 

He would have to come to her. 

With her writing nowhere near as glamorous as his, she wrote out: 

      I would love to see you again. I can't go back to your home so soon, I'm sorry. Come to me this time. 

      I will leave my window open tonight and tomorrow. I will be on the lookout for you, and I will let you in through the shop door when I see you're here. 

Her letters looked like sloppy black slashes against his own curling script, but (Y/N) couldn't think much about her handwriting before she was folding up the page and replacing it in the gilded envelope. 

"Thank you," she said, handing the correspondence back to Mitchell. 

She expected him to stay in line with his persona, silently taking the page before he would ghost through the shop and disappear in the night. However, when he lingered after removing the letter from her grasp, she flicked her gaze up to find him looking at her with intensity in his earnest eyes. 

"Thank you," he insisted, unwavering in his eye contact. 

(Y/N) didn't have to ask where his gratitude was coming from. He knew that she was now aware of his condition, but there hadn't been even a single whisper of such through the village. 

"Of course," she offered, a quiet smile on her lips. "Hopefully, I will see you again sometime soon." 

For the first time she had seen, the stoic mask Harry's footman always seemed to carry showed its first crack. The very corner of his lips turned upwards in a smile. 

"I am sure we will." 

With that, he took the now altered letter and placed it for safekeeping in his jacket pocket. He left the apothecary as if he were but a phantom passing through. The only trace of his presence was the bone white horse (Y/N) could barely spot disappearing through the fog.

—————

Shuttering her eyes, (Y/N) pulled in a resigning sigh.

Harry wasn't coming. 

The sun had gone down hours ago, inducing both her father's bedtime and the rest of the village's. Even the pub wasn't garnering the kind of crowd that usually haunted those halls. This was the perfect night for him to visit. No one would even notice him and she could easily sneak him upstairs with the cover of the night and her father's heavy sleeping. 

She had diligently waited just as her response said, with her window cracked open to allow any noise to filter through and her eyes periodically scanning the space. Nothing more than a few bugs fluttering through her herb garden and the bright eyes of a familiar cat could be seen in the dark. 

If he was coming tonight, he would have already been here. (Y/N) sunk heavier into her thin mattress at the thought. 

Another hour—that's what he had left. Then, she would close her window and go to bed. She will try again tomorrow.

Just as her plan came together, she could hear her name being whispered in the night. Much closer than that of a bug skittering through her garden and too vivid to be a dream. 

Her eyes shot open only to see her window shadowed by Harry's broad form. He was lacking a jacket and waistcoat, only clad in fitted black trousers and a billowing top in a matching hue. This late at night, his eyes and hair seemed to be of a coordinating shade, leaving his skin especially pale in comparison. 

"Harry?!" she gasped, startling on her bed, "Wh—How did you—" 

He looked over his shoulder in a quick whip of his head before he turned to her once more. 

"I will explain in a moment, but I think I see one of your neighbours," he murmured, gesturing to her window with a nod of his chin. "May I please come in?" 

(Y/N) scrambled at the thought of one of her neighbours catching Harry perched on the sloping roof of her home, right where her window was open. "Yes, yes," she rushed out, keeping her voice low as she moved towards her window, "Just—Come in before anyone sees you." 

Curling her fingers under the pane, (Y/N) slid it open just enough for him to slip through. Taking a step back, she watched as he fluidly climbed through her window, not even a hair out of place. He landed on her floor without a single sound, turning back to shut the window after him. 

She hadn't realized just how heavy her heart was beating until the vacuum of her bedroom was restored. She settled some though she kept her eyes fixed on the broad of Harry's shoulders. 

"How did you get up there?" she breathed out, trying to picture how he would have made it to the ledge so soundlessly despite her open window. 

Harry's answer came in the form of a sly look shot over his shoulder. 

Oh. 

"Right," she sounded. Another part of his whole existence that she had no idea about. More questions were added to her ongoing mental list.

Harry looked out of place in her tiny bedroom. He was broad and space-filling. He had a presence here among the mishmash of stuff that made up her home, though it was far from suffocating. Standing with his back to her window, his form appearing that much longer with the help of the single flame of candle light casting shadows around him. He looked around her room, a tiny smile sitting on his lips. 

"Do you mind if I look around?" His voice was so pleasant and unrushed, it almost made (Y/N) forget the gravity of their meetup. 

Nonetheless, confined to her spot before the end of her bed, she nodded her head. 

She watched as Harry took in her space the same way she had taken in his: with curious awe. All of her small trinkets, childhood journals, gardening momentos, and memories of her mother were plotted about her room for him to graze his eyes over. His hands were twined behind his back as he wordlessly stepped through the space, eyes lighting up as he looked over the small shelf her father had nailed into the wall when she had finally received her own bedroom. There was a twitch to Harry's lips when he saw the various lengths of twine she had laying over her rickety bedside table; she always forgot she had one waiting before she had pulled another to tie her hair back. 

Her room was nothing at all like his castle. While he lived in rich color, exquisite luxury, and vast amounts of space, she had the opposite. Everything was muted in her room, leave for the dried flowers and tiny splashes here and there amongst her things. Harry could cross the width of her room in three strides with the length being met within four. It was far from the standards he likely had. Despite the obvious differences, (Y/N) could see the shatters of green appearing in his eyes the longer he made himself at home in her room, his features softening and bones relaxing.

She hoped that meant he liked what he found. 

Just when she thought he was planning on spending all night dissecting any and everything he could find in her bedroom, Harry finally turned on his heel, hands still clasped behind his back, to face her with a gentle smile. 

"Thank you for agreeing to see me again," he told her, voice a low rumble, "Have you had time to think?" 

Sitting on the end of her bed, she gave him a small nod. Her bottom lip fit between the blunt ends of her teeth, worrying the sensitive skin. "I have a lot of questions." 

"I figured you would. I am an open book, (Y/N)," he affirmed, coming to stand just before her, "Anything you want to know, I will answer to the best of my ability." 

(Y/N) could feel his eyes on her as she shuffled back on her bed, folding her legs underneath her with her nightgown falling around her form. "You can sit with me if you'd like" she offered, eyeing the empty space on her mattress for him. 

Her heart bubbled in her chest at the realization that she was asking a man to her bed. She had been so occupied on learning her answers and ensuring no one saw them together in the dead of night, that she had completely forgotten the fact that she was alone in her bedroom with Harry. When she had come up with this plan, she hadn't given much thought to the fact that she was supposed to be worried about her reputation (or her safety, if she was considering the non-human aspects of him). The racing of her heartbeat increased that much more when he cautiously took up her offer and crawled onto the bed in front of her. In the back of her mind, she wondered just how terribly her bed stacked up against the velvet covered monstrosities he had in his own home. 

"Thank you," he said, settling himself amongst the folds of her quilt. His observing gaze settled on her with rounded corners to his eyes. "How are you?" he asked, sincerity in his voice, "Have you been well since the last time we met?" 

"I am well, yes," she answered, dropping her eyes to her lap where her hands fumbled with one another, "Just thinking and trying to figure everything out. And yourself?" 

"I've been okay," he answered earnestly, "But, much better now. I'm glad to hear you've been alright; I have been worried I frightened you or been too much that last night." 

(Y/N) canted her head. "I wouldn't say frightened, no, but I've been overwhelmed." She swallowed. "Confused." 

"I understand; I felt the same way once, too," he sympathized, his tone tender, "What has troubled you the most?" 

Peeking at him through her lashes, she swallowed around her suddenly dry throat. 

"The—um—the bodies," she whispered, a pinch appearing by her brows, "You said that you haven't been the one doing... that recently, but you had in the past. What did you mean?" 

Just as troubling as it was for her to ask that question, it appeared Harry had the same issue answering it. 

"I..." he started, cutting himself off before he could get very far with his mouth settling into a grim line. "There was a time right after I had... become what I am now, that I was not myself. I was confused, scared, and unable to think rationally. All I knew was that I was hungry. The food I could find made me terribly ill, and no amount of water, or wine, or anything could quench my thirst. I could only have that." 

While (Y/N) felt as if she already had the answer she was asking for, she couldn't help but to pose her question anyway. 

"What do you mean, that?" 

Harry dropped his gaze from hers when he answered. "Blood."

Her fingers were a nervous bundle in her lap before her body stilled like the dead at his answer. The memory of the corpse she had found, bloodless and pale like snow, reentered her mind. 

"Y-You drink it?" 

"Yes." 

Her heart hammered against her ribs, though the feeling made her think only of the blood rushing through her veins. 

She must have sat there silent for too long, she realized when Harry piped up, feeling the need to mend the shock he had given her. 

"It's not something I want to do, (Y/N)," he started, choosing his words carefully, "It is the only way I can continue living, but please believe me when I say that I have not committed those kinds of atrocities in almost one hundred years. The second I learned that I could survive off of animals, that's what I started doing. I haven't done anything like what has been happening since." 

As uncomfortable as she felt, thinking about Harry drinking any kind of blood or taking any kind of life, she could live with the fact that he was choosing animals over those of her village. She had to eat too, and while she would have loved to keep every animal alive and frolicking around, she had to do what she had to do as well. She couldn't judge him too harshly. 

"But, Mitchell. He doesn't know yet?" she asked, thinking back to the man with the long hair and ghostly demeanor.

Harry sighed, the same kind of sigh her father used to give when her sister was too stubborn for her own good. "He does know, but it is a hard transition. He wants to change, but he cannot always contain himself should an easy opportunity present itself. I am trying to teach him how to work past those urges, but it is taking longer than either of us would like." He dropped his head then. "I am sorry for what you have seen and what he has done when he is not able to think. I live with the guilt just as much as he does, but we are getting better everyday. I hope you can find it in yourself to forgive both him and I."

(Y/N) pursed her lips. "I don't like it, but I can understand," she offered on a delicate breath. Truthfully, Mitchell sounded like a child: impulsive and taking steps forward before taking just the same amount back. "We all do things we are not proud of. I hope he can learn from this soon, and give these families peace." 

"He will," Harry cemented, "I am going to make sure of it." 

A beat of silence sat between them as she rifled through her head to decide on her next question. "Pardon me if this is inconsiderate to ask," she prefaced, "But, is your... condition the reason both you and Mitchell are so... pale?" 

A genuine grin stretched across Harry's lips at her words. His laughter was a quiet huff from between his lips. "I would think so, yes," he told her, likely grateful for the easier line of questioning, "Every other vampyr I have met, we all tend to be on the paler side, lacking that life in our skin." 

It was an odd thing, hearing him talk about all of the others he had met. She couldn't help but to wonder if Harry really was the first she had ever encountered without even realizing. "Is that why you are cold, as well?" 

"Am I?" he asked, tipping his head to the side with a crease between his brows, "I suppose I've never really noticed. Though, the few times you have allowed me to touch you, you are so pleasantly warm I should have figured as much." 

"You think I'm warm?" she asked, feeling a small sense of pride hit her chest. It was entirely silly to feel flattered over a comment about the temperature of her skin, but she couldn't help herself. She was a simple girl, at the end of the day. 

"Very much so," Harry affirmed, dimples pressing into his cheeks as she smiled at her, "You are like the sun to me." 

Now she definitely couldn't bite back her smile, dropping her head to watch her fumbling hands pluck at the seams of her nightgown. "The sun?" 

"The very one," Harry teased, "Though I haven't felt the sun since I changed, I imagine the rays feeling like your touch." 

"You haven't felt the sun?" (Y/N) blanched, a set of questions hitting her that she hadn't even considered, "But I've seen you outside?" 

Harry gave her a pointed look, "Only on cloudy days. I learned the hard way a long time ago, but I now burn under the sunlight. It's a rather frightening experience, if I'm honest." 

"You burn?" (Y/N) pressed, suddenly scanning her eyes down his form as if she could pick out any marks or scars upon his skin. 

"As if I have touched fire," Harry grimly detailed, "But, I am lucky enough that because of what I am, my skin mends itself. I can't remember the last time I have had any kind of injury without an instant recovery or even fallen ill." 

A new lens fell over (Y/N)'s gaze as she looked at him. Harry was always strong in her eyes, both physically and in the way carried himself so regally despite the swirling rumor mill. Now, though, the descriptor had an entirely new meaning. No wonder he was so flawless—there was nothing in this world that could even blemish him. 

He was the perfect predator—and protector.

"You don't remember anything about the night you changed?" (Y/N) asked, mimicking the language he had been using himself. 

He didn't even blink at her shift in conversation, instead furrowing his brow and canting his head as he threw his memory back. 

"Not really," he mused, pursing his lips, "There are fuzzy bits and pieces I can recall, but nothing I can be sure of. Most of my life before is just as muddy, but I can remember a few things." 

"So you don't know how you became this?" She couldn't imagine going to bed one way and waking up another, not a single idea as to what happened only knowing that she was not the same. No wonder Mitchell was struggling; how do you cope with something so overwhelmingly monumental? 

"I don't know my story, but I do know how vampyrs can be made." He flicked his gaze to her as if to gauge her reaction, scanning for any minute change in expression. When he didn't see anything more than a curious blink, he cautiously continued. "There are three different things that can happen when we bite"—(Y/N) tried her best not to blanch at the blunt word—"someone. One is the kind that we use solely when we are eating, of course. That kind usually includes the end of a life." His own tone grew solemn at this example, that guilt he spoke of resurfacing, though (Y/N) appreciated his honesty. "We can make another vampyr in a similar way, though before the end, we have to have the control to stop. I do not know how it happens exactly, but there is something that changes humans and makes them like me. It can take time, but it can happen." 

"Have you ever... made someone?" 

Harry shook his head. "I've never considered making someone like that—it's too risky in my eyes." 

(Y/N) slowly nodded her head, taking in all of the information she was learning. It was hard to think she was only in her bedroom, and not in some fantasy world that had violently merged with her own. "You said there's a third kind of... bite?" 

"There is one more," he told her, sounding somewhat hesitant as he started, "It is called a Blood Bond. It is usually something that is shared between people that are intending to devote themselves to one another." 

"How do they do that?" (Y/N) was intrigued now. This whole thing—being a vampyr—sounded so solitary, she didn't even think that there could be something like this within their culture. A union.

"They have to bite one another," Harry answered vaguely, "and share blood. Usually at the neck." 

"And, it's like a marriage?" she pressed, trying to merge the concept with something familiar. Nonetheless, it was hard to picture her sister's wedding ending with she and her husband snapping at each other's throats.

"Something like that," Harry shrugged, "A bit more binding, though." 

A troubling thought struck (Y/N) then. "Have you ever...?" 

Harry all but blanched at her words. He shook his head immediately. "No, never. Mitchell is the only person I've ever kept in my life for longer than a month." 

While she hated the thought of Harry being alone, solitary in his castle overlooking the village, there was a selfish part of her that keened at the thought that he had never devoted himself to anyone. 

"How long have you known Mitchell?" (Y/N) rolled on. She wanted to get a picture of Harry's existence, even if she didn't completely understand the details yet. 

A small smile plucked at the corners of his mouth then. "You really are quite curious, aren't you?" 

Sheepishly dropping her gaze from his, she lifted her own shoulders in a small shrug. "It is alright if you'd rather not answer anymore, I know I can ask a lot at times. I do not wish to bother you or anything." 

"No, no," Harry rushed, impulsively dropping his hand to land on her nightgown-covered knee, "Please, you are not bothering me. I love your curiosity. I told you: I am happy to answer anything you have for me. I want you to know me." 

Matching her gaze to his, (Y/N) couldn't deny the genuine sincerity she found swimming in his irises. Refractions of crystal green had appeared in the pitch black, giving the look of a moonlit forest. There was a warmth to his expression, giving him the illusion of life with the dimples in his cheeks and the dazzling smile on his lips. 

She couldn't imagine being anywhere, but here.

—————

"What happened after that?" 

Harry directed his gaze towards the ceiling, searching the air for the rest of the story that lay in his head. 

"Nothing too eventful, really," he mused, "I suppose that was when I started focusing on blending back in with the world. I felt comfortable in my control and wanted to stop hiding away so profusely—plus, I was beyond bored with my own company. Brooding can only fill so much time." 

(Y/N) let out a tittering laugh at his words, leaning that much closer to Harry. 

As he spoke about his life, telling her of all of the things he had seen, people he had met, and the details that made him up, the space between them had slowly dissipated until Harry was laying at her side. The longer they talked, the easier it was to grow closer and more comfortable sharing space. (Y/N) had even twisted until she was laying beside him, flat on her stomach with him on his back, hands folded over his stomach. 

This close, she could practically count the lashes lining his eyes, the faint set of freckles that dusted his skin. For a fleeting moment, she wondered what he had looked like when he was human. Did he have perpetually flushed cheeks? Were his eyes always green, or just as dark as they were now? When he was cold, did the chill show on the tip of his nose? 

She didn't allow herself long to wonder over those questions. Harry as it he was in front of her was enough—more than enough, really.

"Was that hard?" she asked, her voice a low whisper as if she was conspiring with him in the dead of night, "Trying to be human again?" 

"At times, yes," he mused, his eyes on the ceiling as he found his thoughts, "Humans, without realizing it, will pick up on the things that make me different and avoid me out of survival—even when I mean no harm. It is hard to feel normal when that happens." 

Laying her cheek down on her pillow, admiring him as her head sunk into the down, a frown plucked at her lips. She could imagine him after trips down to the village, shopping and trying to socialize, though it was no secret the townspeople would rather him stay away. More and more she learned, the less Harry was a creature of the night with blood-stained teeth, and more a lonely soul adjusting to something he never asked for. 

"I don't avoid you," she said, a quiet attempt to make him feel less alone. 

She had the perfect view of the smile that stretched over his lips at her words, dimples and all. The bed dipped as he manueavered on her small bed, laying on his side to face her with his own cheek pressed to the same pillow. Her breath caught in her lungs. She'd only been this close to him once before, when he had traced his nose over the column of her throat just when she had seen his lack of reflection. 

This time, she had nothing else to focus on. He was her everything right then, everything around him blurring out of focus. 

"I know you don't," he responded to something she barely remembered saying, "And I feel so lucky every time I remember that. You are one of the few, (Y/N), that hasn't run the other way. But those other times were never like this." 

Blinking with a flutter of her lashes, (Y/N) felt her skin warm. She loved the sound of her name in his voice. "Like us?" 

"Yes, like us," he said, a rewarding smile on his lips for her, "While it concerns me that you seem to lack any real survival instincts, I am grateful that you are not scared of me." His eyes glazed over her features, taking everything about her in as she held onto each word. "I have been drawn to you for longer than I have been able to admit to myself. Every minute we spend together means something that I cannot fully express." 

"Drawn to me?" she peeped, her blood bubbling under her skin. 

Harry looked sheepish now, the way he flicked his eyes to her before letting them fall. She wondered, if he was the same as her, if there would be a flush to his cheeks, and a pounding in his chest. "You've intrigued me for a very long time, before we even started speaking in passing. I have made excuses to come down to the village, shopping with you when I didn't really need anything. Even though you didn't mean it, you made me feel less alone." 

Tentatively, (Y/N) reached out a hand, her fingers holding a small tremor before she placed her palm on his chest. The chill of his skin could be felt through his shirt, leaving goosebumps on her arm. The slight cold was worth it when she saw Harry all but melt at her touch. She really must feel that warm to him. 

"I have always been very interested in you, too," she murmured, unable to meet his gaze should that give away the exact feelings she was trying to say, "I never understood why anyone would try to gossip or say anything about you. I guess they aren't too far off, though—those rumors." 

Peeking through her lashes, (Y/N) held a smile on her lips as she hoped her tease would land. When Harry huffed out a breath of laughter, his hand landing on her own on his chest, holding her fingers snug, her own grin grew three sizes.

"I suppose not," he smiled, pulsing his hand around hers. 

Gazing at him, (Y/N) could nearly count the amount of green shatters floating to the surface of the pools of black. Everything about him was clear and steady, unwavering. "Thank you for coming tonight," she started, "My initial reaction was overwhelming, and I apologize for that. I would never want you to think that I felt the same way as the others or that you frightened me enough to never see you again." 

"There is nothing to be sorry for," he insisted, ducking his head until he was directly before her, the tip of his nose just barely missing her own, "I am sorry that I didn't assure you enough that you were safe with me and had nothing to worry about. I was planning on telling you myself, I was only waiting until I knew how to say it without using the wrong words." 

"I think you've done alright," she smiled. If she blinked, would their lashes tangle together, or would she need to be just a bit closer for that? 

"You have such a power over me, (Y/N)," Harry told her earnestly, his eyes swimming in devotion with his tone tinted in worship. 

Rolling her lips between her teeth, (Y/N) wondered if anyone had ever felt like she did in her bed right then. Did her mother ever feel this way for her father? Did her blood ever burn for him the way (Y/N)'s seemingly did for Harry? Did her sister ever feel her lungs squeeze and heart batter her ribs when looking at her husband? Did Mr. and Mrs. Wayfield feel their skin crawl with the need to join one another? 

Or was (Y/N) the first? 

Had everyone felt this way before, or had she invented the idea of falling in love right then? 

It was impulsive, reputation-ruining, and entirely unladylike the way she surged forward and pressed her lips to his. If Harry had any inhibitions, he didn't show them with the way he reciprocated the contact in a heartbeat. Molding his lips to hers, he led her through the kiss. It was far from refined, (Y/N)'s lips clumsy and off centered but Harry didn't mind correcting her until his hand was holding her cheek steady and he was pushing and pulling with her moving in tandem.

Drawing away, (Y/N) pulled in a gasp. Her hand on his chest clenched the shirt covering his chest, nails raking along the planes of his muscles. Harry didn't offer her much of a reprieve before he was diving back in, the chill of his mouth feeling nonexistent with the heat that began coursing through her veins. 

While she hadn't noticed it, Harry must have with the way he pulled away, allowing her suddenly aching lungs to take something in. He offered a smattering of kisses along her cheeks instead, affection pouring over every inch he could reach. 

"I adore you, darling," he murmured, his voice dripping like the nectar from a flower deep into the marrow of her bones. "I will never get enough of you." 

(Y/N) could only smile, a dreamy expression as she dipped her head back. A pleasant chill crept up her spine when Harry distributed his kisses down the column and over her thrumming pulse. 

She could stay here forever. Never moving, never changing. Right here with Harry was her home. 

"I wish I could stay," Harry murmured, responding to words she hadn't realized she said aloud, "But the sun will rise soon, and I believe you still need to sleep." 

Drawing away, Harry righted her head with his hand on her cheek, the pad of his thumb tracing her cheekbone. She wasn't sure if it was just her eyes or if it was truly there, but she swore there was color to his cheeks, a flush to his lips. 

"I don't need to sleep," she countered, ready to dive back in. 

Harry barely sated her with a single kiss pressed to her pout. "Yes you do," he insisted, "You are caring for your garden tomorrow, right? You need rest for that or you will be exhausted before you can finish." 

For a moment, she hated that he knew anything about her and her routine. She didn't care for the sage or the rosemary or whatever she was meant to be pruning in the morning. She cared for who was in her bed. 

"Don't look like that," he said, unable to keep himself from laying another kiss on her lips, "We will see each other again soon, I promise. I don't think I can wait very long, either." 

"You can't stay any longer?" she asked, slowly releasing her hold on his shirt. From where she could see out her window, the sun was still down with the sky dark, but she figured Harry would know his limits and timings much better than she. 

Glancing out the glass himself, she could see the gears turning in his head. "I can stay a little while longer. Until you fall asleep, yes?" 

That was more than she could have wished for, truly. To fall asleep in his arms was the stuff of dreams. 

"That's perfect," she smiled, "Thank you." 

Harry responded only by bundling her to his chest. While there was no heartbeat to compare to her own, nothing to beat in rhythm against her ribs, (Y/N) had never felt more comforted. 

Sleep didn't take long, even when she had fought her tired eyes. 

—————

(Y/N) shyly peeked through her lashes as she descended the narrow aisle between the church pews. For the third service in a row, her eyes met that of a dark figure seated in the last row. Harry flicked his gaze to hers for a heartbeat before he looked away, a conspiratorial smile on his mouth. She felt her skin warm as she followed her father out the church doors, rolling her lips between her teeth. 

Ever since he had climbed through her window the first time weeks prior, Harry had been more involved in the village than ever. He had told her between breathless kisses in the quiet of her bedroom that he wanted to see more, that he could barely keep himself away—she was on his mind constantly. With going to his estate in the night wasn't always a smart option for her and her bedroom wasn't exactly easy to hide away in, he was going to find another way to see her. Since then, whenever the sun was shaded enough, he was ghosting among the village with a tendency to haunt the apothecary or anywhere else (Y/N) might have been. (She could only imagine the stack of lavender and tobacco bundles he had laying around his home with the amount of times he came in to shop with her). He had even started showing up for Sunday morning service for another chance to see her, despite neither of them particularly caring for the sermons. 

Their moments were made up of subtlety with stolen glances and conspiratorial smiles, near silent conversations when no one was listening or the quiet confirmation that they were thinking of one another. They shared more secrets than she was sure anyone would even know what to do with. 

She was the only one who knew the real him amongst the chatter, and she was the only person in the world who knew what it was like to kiss her. And, no one had any idea. 

No one had seen the way he slipped scraps of notes into her hand when she passed off his herbs. No one else noticed the way they gravitated towards one another during the after church gathering at the pub. No one knew that he slipped in through her window most nights or how a letter on exquisite stationery would appear when he couldn't. 

No one knew (Y/N) was in love.

So caught up in her head, she didn't even register the chilly air filtering around her as she descended the church steps being her father. She had followed mindlessly even when he stopped to make conversation with another parishioner, not noticing his pause until she tripped right into his back.

Turning around, her father steadied her with a gentle hand and concerned eyes. 

"Are you alright?" he asked, looking over the bridge of her nose that had smacked right into his spine.

"Yes, sorry," she rushed out with a shake of her head, "I wasn't paying attention." 

His worry seemingly settled in permanent lines across his face. "Are you sure? You're not growing ill, are you? You've been off in your head these last few days." 

Unconsciously, her eyes trailed over his shoulder and towards the fringes of the group where Harry stood by himself. She could just barely see the amused curl to his lips. He had definitely seen her misstep.

"No, " she answered, blinking back into the conversation though now she had her own efforts focussing on keeping her features in line. "I'm just tired."

—————

"Harry," (Y/N) murmured against his mouth, "My father..." 

Drawing away from her kiss-puffed mouth, Harry sighed. "I know. I am trying, but you have to understand my struggle, darling." 

She couldn't help the plume of laughter that fanned from her lips at his words. He practically beamed at the sound, his deep green eyes glimmering in the low light of a single lamp. 

(Y/N) loved the way he smiled when they were alone. It was a wonder thinking that there was time before she had even known he had dimples. 

"I'm sorry," she told him, settling into the down pillow under her head. Harry hovered above her with a delicate hand roaming over her cheek, his other propping him up from where he laid at her side. She barely noticed the chill when they were like this, huddled under her quilt with the heat of their breath and curious hands. "I wish we didn't have to worry." 

"Come to me tomorrow," he offered in an instant, a bit breathless as he dropped his hand to boldly skate down her side, "We can be alone then." 

His palm settled over her waist with a pulse, fingers tightening just when he mentioned alone. Shifting in her bedding, he didn't hesitate to pull her closer to him. 

From the heat in his refracted gaze and the exceptional curiosity of his hands tonight, (Y/N) had a blushing idea of what he wanted to be alone for. While it wasn't the first time in the last weeks that there had been the passing possibility of allowing him to push her nightgown up or pull apart her corset, this was the first time Harry had given such a hint to his own intentions. 

For fear of assuming too much, (Y/N) slid her eyes down the slope of his neck. "I don't know." 

Creases appeared between his brows as he gazed down at her. "What are you unsure about, darling?" 

Avoiding his eyes, (Y/N) felt her skin warm. "I—We—" she stumbled, tongue lazing around her mouth while she searched for the right words, "I want to be alone with you too, but... We're not married." 

She didn't match his eyes for fear that she had misread the situations and every other before this that she had sworn Harry was worked up on her account. For all she knew, he wanted nothing more than to speak at full volume and have more than a squeaky bed to sit upon.

Ducking his head into her line of sight, he forced her to meet his gaze. "I would never want to do something that you do not want as well, (Y/N). If you would prefer we do nothing more until we begin publicly courting and doing things in order, then that is what we will do." His hand on her side softened. "This is already more than enough for me—I can wait." 

Despite his kind words, (Y/N) didn't feel any of her stress alleviate. She had already known Harry would never rush her into anything thatch was not ready for, just as much as she knew that she did not feel any real inclination to wait until they were betrothed. But, neither of those truths made her decision any easier, not when there was more than just her own wants and desires to take into account. 

"I know, and I want to, really," she said, reaching out to play with the loose fabric of his top, "I just—It's... I don't want you to see or think of me any differently afterwards. I know it is not proper to want anything outside of marriage—I do not want anything to change if I were to... indulge." 

She hoped he understood what she was trying to tell him, specifically the kind of pressures that were placed on her for the simple fact that she was a woman in society. There were enough stories she had heard of women who had taken what they wanted, or fell in love with another and expressed that love, and were later shamed for doing exactly that—oftentimes by their own partners or people she trusted in her life. She didn't want to be cast aside in case he found that he no longer wanted her afterwards, after seeing how willing she was to be with someone that wasn't her husband.

Harry's features twisted with a frown touching his lips and his eyes saddening. "Have I ever made you feel as if my feelings would change should you spend the night with me? If I have, I want you to know—" 

"No, it's not that," (Y/N) rushed out, already feeling guilty, "You've never made me feel anything like that. It's just that... I suppose I've made myself feel this way. I just don't want you to change your mind about me." 

For all she knew, Harry would have sex with her and learn that he was only attracted to her for the fact that he wanted to be with someone after such a long time. It was not his fault she had these doubts, but they were ones that lived in her head.

Harry didn't shy away from her as she spoke. He only listened, patiently waiting for her to finish her thoughts. 

"I will just have to prove it to you then, that I have no doubts about you or anything I feel for you." His words were solid, unyielding. There was no room for argument. "In the meantime," he contented, his tone decidedly softer as he shuffled closer to her, "Would it be enough to tell you that I adore you? That I care for you more than I have for anyone or anything before?" 

(Y/N) suddenly felt shy under his attention. He had murmured as much to her in the heat of the moment before, but never so clearly and earnestly before.

"Harry," she started, settling her palm against his chest as if to contain him. 

"It is true," he smiled, unwavering in the way he spoke ,"You are like no one I have ever known before, and I could spend my entire existence only wishing to learn you. I know we are not married, or even engaged, but I hope it is enough to know that I do love you." 

Refractions of green sparkled in his eyes, brightening his gaze in a way she swore only happened when they were alone. Her heart bubbled and beat heavily in her chest. She could n longer contain the budding grin fighting to pluck at her lips. 

"You truly mean that?" she whispered, selfishly asking if only to hear it again. 

Dimples were thumbed into his cheeks. "Of course, I do. I've come to believe that the reason I was kept alive for so long was so that I might get to meet you." 

Looking up at him with his words ringing in her ears, Harry was like the moon to her. Never had she heard devotion like that. Even in her most romantic of daydreams, she never could have imagined that harry would say something like that to her, his eyes fixed to hers and his touch an anchor. Her chest practically ached as she processed. 

Her hand on his chest curled until she was fisting his top between her fingers. "I love you, too," she peeped out, the sound of her heartbeat sticking in her ears. 

Harry didn't hesitate before he was sealing his lips to hers once more. It was a hurried, excited kiss, leaving their mouths just a bit off center and his nose mushed against her cheek, but (Y/N) couldn't help but to smile into the contact. 

When he pulled away, (Y/N) could have sworn there was a flush of color to his skin. "If not for how badly I want to do this the right way, I would be proposing right now, (Y/N)." 

"You don't have to," she murmured, surging forward and pressing another kiss to his lips, "This is enough for me." While there was still undue shame she was going to undoubtedly feel tied to any decision she made, she didn't want that to come before what she wanted when it came to Harry. "If you were still offering," she started, dropping her eyes to follow the line of his nose and the pillow of his lips, "I would like to see you tomorrow. At your home." 

"Really?" he asked, his voice an octave deeper than she remembered. 

She nodded, a soft smile on her features. 

"Only if you are sure, my love," he murmured, "The door is always open for you."

(Y/N) could only answer him with a kiss.

—————

Pacing around her bedroom, (Y/N) counted, the numbers climbing in her head. Her simple white dress flourished around her ankles with every step, though she took care to avoid the creaky floorboards. 

When she reached two hundred, she took in a deep breath and strained her ears to listen to the rest of the house. All she heard was the sound of her father's snoring, just as she had when she had started readying herself. 

Releasing that breath, she took quiet steps to her slightly ajar window. She had run over this plan enough times in her head for her brain to go quiet as she finally put it all in place. Repeating her steps from the first time she had snuck out, (Y/N) made it out of her home in one piece before starting towards the long winding route leading to Harry's home. 

It wasn't long before a familiar black carriage and bone white horses hit her line of sight. A broad grin took over her features as she pace doubled to reach the coach. 

"Hello, Mitchell," she chirped, catching the familiar head of dark hair and pale features sitting in the coach box. 

"Hello, Ms. (Y/N)," he smiled at her, formality still hitting his tone despite (Y/N) assuring him more than once that he didn't need to offer her any, "He's been eagerly waiting for you." 

"I have been, too," she confessed through her grin, rounding the carriage with less grace than she figured she ought to have. Before she even had a chance to knock on the door or surprise him, Harry was practically jumping out of the box. 

"(Y/N)," he practically sighed, wrapping her in his arms the second his feet landed on the solid ground. 

Her own arms around his neck, she all but melted into his hold. Harry held her snug to his chest, his face buried in her hair. "I've missed you so, darling. I feel as if it has been years since I've held you." 

"You were in my room just last night, Harry," (Y/N) laughed. As if she hadn't been feeling the same way today, though it was much more fun to tease him.

"Exactly," he countered, stiffening his hold on her to lift her feet from the ground. (Y/N) squealed a laugh in his ear as she clung to him. "It has been much too long since I've held you."

She could offer no argument to him as she wrapped her limbs around Harry, allowing him to carry her into the carriage effortlessly. (Y/N) felt breathless by the time he had her settled on the bench beside him, wrapped in velvet and warmth despite his chilled skin. 

As she caught her breath, the horses started off in the direction of the castle, a rhythmic thumping starting with their hooves against the path. Harry looked down at her with amusement on his features. 

"Have you truly not missed me, darling?" he asked, his voice a soft song filling the space between them. His hand was just as gentle as he removed hair from her face, giving him a full view of her eyes. 

"I have," she smiled, shaking her head, "But, Mitchell..." 

Harry waved her off. "He doesn't listen, believe me. He only wishes to see me happy." 

"Are you? Happy, I mean?" 

Dipping his head down until he could press his lips to hers, (Y/N) received her answer in a murmur: "Undoubtedly, so."

—————

"If you're ready, I have somewhere I'd like to show you." 

Looking at Harry from over the rim of her wine glass, (Y/N) brightened. "What is it?" she asked after swallowing her gulp, the center of her lips tinted a berry red. 

"Let me show you," Harry countered, standing from his place at the dining table before offering her a hand. 

(Y/N) placed her palm in his without a second thought, fluidly following after him. 

Her new gown flourished with every step she took with her hand cradled in the crook of his elbow, the white ensemble having been waiting for her when they arrived at the estate. Though it wasn't as grand as the red one that now hung delicately in the wardrobe, it was no less luxurious. 

The fabric was a satiny cream, gliding over her fingertips when she first touched it. The neckline cut straight across her décolletage with the sleeves being nothing more than swathes of material that draped over her arms, leaving the boned corset to keep the bodice upright. The skirt wasn't full like her last garment, leaving the shape slim and sleek around her form. Harry had practically mooned at her when she descended the stairs after dressing, his eyes never leaving her for long. 

With the way the fabric gleamed and shimmered, (Y/N) felt as if she fit in with the moonlight when Harry led her outside. At her side, he blended in with the dark night aside from his pale features, acting as the heavens around the bright moon. 

The ground under their steps was dewy, appearing as if drops of starlight had landed on earth with the reflection of the sky on the droplets. Looking ahead, through the draping wisteria and dark purple blooms, was the greenhouse. The building was in much better shape than the last she had seen, now with a complete roof and frosted glass on every wall. 

"You finished it!" she bubbled, eager to see if he'd had the chance to fill it with any exotic blooms just yet. 

"I did," he smiled, his profile illuminated by the full moon, "I wanted to make sure I could take you here the next time you came." 

Approaching the door, Harry pushed it open for her to enter first. 

Inside, (Y/N) felt that same wondrous glee she did when he had shown her the ballroom for the first time. This small space put her entire apothecary to shame. 

The space was warm and humid, condensation trapped along the windows. Strung along the roof were familiar bundles of all of the herbs Harry had come by to pick up over the last month or so whenever he wanted an excuse to see her, the air tinted with the matching lavender and tobacco fragrances. The greenhouse itself had shelf after shelf, stretching tables, and hanging pots full of different plants. There were still plenty of places to grow, more room to put more and more flowers and herbs, but there was already enough filling that space that (Y/N) couldn't help the joyous gasp she let out. 

Harry allowed her to wander through, looking over every leaf and every shrub, fawning over the blooms, and finding things she had no name for. When she wasn't so lost in her daydreams, romanticizing everything, (Y/N)'s hobby was her plants. She doted on them like pets, and took care of them every chance she could. Being in a place like this, with Harry, in a gorgeous dress, was exactly what her dreams were made of.

Coming up to an unfamiliar plant, (Y/N) gazed at it with wide eyes. The open leaves resembled that of an open jaw, with spines on the very edge of the leaves acting as teeth. It was colored a bright, smooth green, not a single blemish altering the perfection. Curiosity took over as she reached out, attempting to touch the spines to see if they were as sharp as they looked. She jumped back with a yelp when the leaves snapped together upon contact, acting just like the gnashing jaw she had compared them to. 

In an instant, Harry was at her side, cradling her back to him with her hand clasped in his. 

"It didn't get you, did it?" he asked with a concerned furrow to his brow. He cradled her hand in his palm, the pad of his thumb brushing over her fingertips as if he could heal any wound with a touch. 

"No, I am alright," she answered, canting her head as her eyes stayed locked on the biting plant, watching as it reopened its jaws for the next victim, "Does it always do that?" 

Bundling her hand in his own, Harry followed her this time as she approached the trap once more. "Only when it is trying to eat," he shared, watching her with the same fascination she offered to the plant. 

"It eats? What do you mean?" 

"It is called a Venus Fly Trap," Harry explained, "Unlike the others, it eats meat—bugs and the like. When it thinks it's caught any prey, it'll snap closed and take its meal." 

(Y/N) had never heard of a predator plant—had never even imagined something like this could exist. "You feed it?" 

"It does rather well for itself, I choose not to interfere too much."

She tried to picture something that looked so flimsy, a pair of leaves that mechanically moved together, could trap a living being. "Has it ever bitten you before?" 

"Once," Harry admitted, "It was more startling than anything. That is when Mitchell shared that we would most likely benefit from leaving it alone." 

Without much thought, she reached out once more as if to test the theory that the trap was nothing more than a scare. Harry quickly had her hands bundled in his own, twirling her away from the exotic bloom. He shook his head when his eyes met hers, a lopsided smile on his lips. 

"I have said it before, but it always surprises me how much you lack any sense of survival," he laughed, pulling her hands to his chilled chest, "Though I said it did not hurt, does not mean you should try it out yourself." 

"Sorry," she answered, a sheepish smile on her lips, "I just wanted to try for myself." 

"Don't," he teased, bringing her hands to his lips where he gave her a soft smattering of kisses along the fingertips.

A soft laugh plumed from (Y/N)'s lips as she watched him, wiggling her hands out of his to cradle his cheeks in her palms. "This place is wonderful, Harry. I had no idea you wanted to make something like this." 

He leaned into the warmth of her touch. "I made it for you." 

(Y/N) felt her features soften; her eyes rounded out, cheeks softened around the width of her smile, every muscle she hadn't even realized she was tensing now going lax. "Did you really?" she crooned, following the refractions of light that danced over his features from the moonlight streaming through. 

"Of course, I did," he smiled, "I'd do anything for you."

It was a moment like this that she wondered if she could really handle being engaged for a whole two years the way her sister was. She had spent so many years dreaming up someone like Harry, she wasn't sure if she could wait that much longer to have him be hers in every real way. All she could do was hold him tighter.

Harry's smile widened as he gazed down at her. "I wish I knew what was going on in your head." 

"Just you," (Y/N) answered, "Always you." 

Turning his head in between her hands, Harry pressed his lips not puckered kisses against the palms of her hands. She could feel him smiling against her skin. 

"I don't know what I did to deserve you, my love, but I am forever grateful." He pulled her hands from his cheeks only to hold them against his chest once more. His features, though still swimming in adoration, settled into something more somber then. "I was actually hoping to talk to you about something out here." 

"Oh?" (Y/N) sounded. 

For the first time since they met, (Y/N) saw a small amount of uncertainty leak into his gaze. "I know we have talked some about our future," he started, gaze traveling over her features to capture any and every reaction, "And, I have been thinking about something that I wanted to share with you." 

"Okay," she nodded, trying not to betray her own nerves on her face, "Something good, I hope." 

A faint dimple was pushed into Harry's cheek as he stretched his smile that much more. "I hope so, as well." Within a breath, he was entirely serious once more. "You know that I wish to marry you, right? Outside of just our talks in your bedroom, I have meant every word I have said about sharing my life with you." 

"I do," she smiled, hoping to lessen his worry, "And I feel the same. I wish we could be married tomorrow, even." 

Small traces of relief had his features loosening up, the cut of his jaw rounding and his brows relaxing. "I do as well, but I want to do that the right way, with a real wedding and everything else you could want. Though, I feel that the both of us are rather impatient." (Y/N) let out a small fan of laughter at his truth. "Because of that, I have been thinking and found some old correspondence with a friend that gave me an idea." He paused before continued, as if gathering his words. "Do you remember the Blood Bond I told you about?" 

(Y/N) gave a silent nod. She could recall the short details he had shared with her and the way her mind had traced back to the binding more than once in her daydreams. 

"I know it is a lot to ask of you, as neither of us really understand what a Blood Bond truly entails outside of theory, but I have wondered if... If you might be willing to complete a Blood Bond with me." He rolled his lips between his teeth wrestling with both his nervousness at presenting the idea as well as his hope for her answer. "I found letters from an old friend, someone who knew someone else who had completed the bond with another, and it sounded promising. There weren't many details, but they sounded happy." 

"Were they—" (Y/N) floundered over her question, unable to find the right terms, "Were they both like you? Or was one of them like me?" 

His mouth formed a grim line. "Both were like me. I can't find anything on any couple like us, unfortunately. I suppose we might be the first," Harry posited, the very corner of his mouth turning upwards. 

While (Y/N) was more than warm to the idea of bonding with Harry—marrying him in the way they could without having the follow the steps of courting and engagement while also easing her father into the idea—she was unsure. The lack of details that even Harry knew tickled a part of her mind she had trouble ignoring. 

"Would it...If we did, would it make me like you?" While she loved Harry for who he was, and understood his story, there was little desire in her to completely forgo her own life in favor of a still heart (and the blood thing was still very much not something she had interest in). 

"I do not think so, but, again, I can't be sure." It appeared as if it pained him to give her so little detail. "But, I would never offer this if I did not think it would be a good option for us, darling. Selfishly, even if we can't share this with anyone, I don't know if I can wait much longer before I know I am yours and you are mine."

He peeked at her through his lashes, reflections of green glimmering in the pale moonlight. (Y/N) understood what he meant. While this would be another secret between them, something she couldn't even share with her father, it was enough to look at him and know that Harry was hers and she was his. It was enough to know that there was a place they belonged: at each other's sides. 

Pinching her bottom lip between her teeth she asked, "Does it hurt?"

"Not anymore than I can imagine a regular bite does," he offered, giving a small shrug of his shoulders, "But, I can't be sure. I would do everything I could to make it as painless as possible, darling." 

There was a part of (Y/N) that stayed wary, and urged her to do the same. It poked holes in the logic and filled everything with doubt. There was no easy way to be the first, there was no safe way. There was so much unknown about what could happen should she bare her neck for him and allow Harry to bind them together in whatever way the Blood Bond would do. There was even a chance that she could drop dead immediately after, leaving the rest of her life—including Harry—behind. 

There was no way to be sure that nothing terrible would happen, but the rest of her wasn't certain if that really mattered. She had no way of knowing that Harry was telling the truth when he revealed his nature to her, or if she could be sure that she was truly safe around him. She had no way of knowing that she was doing the right thing by continuing to invite him to her and to fall in love with him on the way. But she did each of those things anyway, because she had felt in her bones that it was right. She had felt that she could trust Harry with everything—every fall down the rabbit hole of love, every time they were alone with her neck at his teeth, everything that her instincts told her was okay because she trusted him. 

That trust in him piped up, flicking (Y/N)'s gaze to match his as he patiently waited for her answer. "Okay." 

Harry perked up at the word. "Okay?" 

The beginnings of an ecstatic grin bubbled over her features. "I want to bond with you. We'll learn all of this together. I don't want to go another day without being yours." 

In the middle of the greenhouse, Harry wrapped his arms around her, pulling her to his chest before lifting her off of her feet. (Y/N) giggled, looping her own arms around his neck and clinging to him as he spun her around. Her dress twirled around them, enclosing Harry in lily white fabric as if he were the center of a moonlit bloom. 

"I love you, I love you, I love you," he repeated over and over, his face burrowed in her neck with his nose skimming the column. 

(Y/N) could only smile, her eyes shuttering closed. She buried her hands in his hair, nails scratching against his scalp. This is the kind of joy she pictured when she finally found her one and she agreed to spend her life with him—another assurance that she was doing the right thing. Something so wrong or hasty wouldn't feel so good. 

Positing her down on the edge of a sparsely populated table, Harry stood between her legs as he settled his hands on her thighs over her silken dress. He had a bubbling smile on his face as he looked up at her, his eyes almost entirely green with only his pupil and a few slivers of the familiar coal remaining. 

"I will write to my friend, and see if he has any more answers. Then, when you're ready, we can—" 

A furrow pinched (Y/N) brow as she spoke, "We're not doing it tonight?" 

Harry paused to consider her question. "I thought... I don't want to push you or make you feel as if we have to do this tonight. I figured you would like more time." 

While Harry was erring on the side of caution—once again being the more responsible of the two compared to her impulsiveness—she didn't want to do the same. She had no fear of the Venus Fly Trap despite almost being caught in its clutches, and she had no fear of Harry and the unknown. 

"I don't need any more time," (Y/N) cemented, reaching to settle her hands on his shoulders with her fingertips digging into the luxe velvet, "I trust you, and I don't want to wait anymore. I waited my whole life to find someone like you—I practically dreamt you up. I don't need time to be sure." 

As she spoke, Harry had his eyes fixed on her, watching her mouth wrap around every word and the devotion of which she hoped he felt. His own lips had fallen open in a small gape, eyes glimmering as if he were looking at the sun. HIs hands on her thighs pulsed, tightening his grip as if he could drift away at any moment. 

He didn't have to say it for (Y/N) to know that he loved her. That he knew what it was like to wait and hope there was someone there at the end who understood. 

Reaching to cradle her cheeks in his palms, he brought her in for a slow kiss, his lips slotted between hers with his nose brushing against her own. There was an urgency behind it that she had never felt from him before. 

"I love you," he murmured. 

The delicate curl of her lips had him pulling away just enough to drag his kisses over her cheek. "I love you, too." 

"I'm not certain in what I'm doing, (Y/N), so I need you to tell me if I am hurting you. I do not want this to be ruined because of me, so please stop me if you feel the need." His lips never lifted from her skin as he spoke, his words being painted across in sweeps of his breath and skims of his nose. 

"I trust you," she reiterated, dipping her head back as he descended lower towards her throat, "I love you." 

"I love you, too," he responded simply, before pulling away, "But you must promise me. If there's even a moment where you are no longer sure, do whatever you need to do to make me stop." 

His jaw was set and eyes hard as he spoke, determination settling on his features. "I promise," she said, her hands still firm on his shoulders, "If anything changes, I will tell you." 

A small curl lifted his lips as he took her vow, features softening. "I will tell you before I bite, is that okay?" 

"Please," she responded, relaxing into his arms as he wrapped them around her middle with his hands spanning the planes of her back. As much as she did trust him, the fact that his teeth would be biting into her neck in a few moments was most likely going to be her least favorite part of their bonding. 

When Harry dipped his head down, the chill of his touch grazing her throat, (Y/N) expected to feel the scrape of his teeth, the point of something predatory catching on her skin. Instead, she felt the soft press of his lips and the drag of his nose over the column. He worked slowly, familiarly, kissing his way along until he stopped. He paused on the side of her throat, just under where her pulse thrummed. 

"I'm going to bite here, alright?" he murmured, "Just long enough to forge the bond, darling." 

She clenched her hands on his shoulders. "Okay." 

Against her throat, she could feel his lips moving though there was no sound. She wanted to ask what he was saying, but before she had a chance that searing slice she had been waiting for finally struck. 

The feeling took her breath away, her hands tightening on his shoulders. It didn't hurt like a cut from a knife or a stab from a needle, no—Harry's bite burned. It was a bubbling burn, as if something inside her was melting all within the span of a second. The searing brought tears to her eyes, stealing her breath before she had a chance to understand. 

Just as quickly as the burning started, it was gone. In its place was something pleasantly cool, like a breeze on a warm day. Her vision cleared with her breath restored. She was hyper aware of Harry's shoulders under her hands, the warmth of his velvet jacket and the welcome chill from his skin. She clung to him, conscious of every stretch of fabric on her skin and every anchoring touch he gave her. It was overwhelming, verging on euphoric, urging her to shutter her eyes and absorb every second. 

The moment could have lasted anywhere from two hours long to two seconds, (Y/N) had no way of telling by the time Harry pulled away. He kept his grip on her firm, his arms barred around her back as she came back down to the greenhouse. 

With a fluttering blink of her lashes, (Y/N) saw Harry for what he was, for the very first time.

He looked at her with eyes darker than she had ever seen before, no semblance of any green she was accustomed to. She could clearly see a flush on his cheeks, appearing more human than she had ever realized he wasn't. The most jarring part: the blood dripping down his chin. It was a stark rub against his skin, staining his lips and coating his teeth.

That was her blood rolling down his lips.

For the first time since meeting him, she felt that fear she had lacked. It was nothing more than a zip up her spine, but it was there. If he were any other person, any other version of him in the years past, this would be the last thing she saw before she would be laid to rest on the forest floor with her throat ripped out. 

As much as she was startled at the sight, the feel of her blood dripping down her neck, she also saw the way he was looking at her. Within the depths of his dark eyes, he was seeing her and tasting her and knowing her for the first time. There was no way that she had been the only one to feel that overwhelming euphoria, not when he looked at her like that. 

In a distracted movement, he wiped his sleeve over his chin, intending to clear some of the crimson though most of it only smeared over his skin.

He was breathless as he spoke, "Ar—You're... (Y/N)." 

Tears filled his eyes as he clung to her. 

Though her hand shook, (Y/N) still reached to place her palm on his cheek. She couldn't avoid the blood on his skin, but she didn't have the mind to care as she attempted to comfort him. 

"I'm here," she whispered, hooking her ankle around the back of his leg, "You did it." 

His hands on her back curled until his fingertips were denting her shoulder blades by how tightly he held her. He shook his head as if to clear whatever was going on inside. "We—It's—Your turn." 

In that second, she remembered the small detail she had willfully forgotten. For the Bond to go both ways, she would have to also take his own blood. The prospect of him biting into her didn't seem so bad anymore compared to this. 

Her eyes dropped to his neck, floundering suddenly. "I—But, I can't... I'm not like you, I can't... bite." 

The fact seemed to hit Harry as well, though his brain was still clearly flooded with whatever it was he was experiencing with his end of the bond forged. He blinked to clear his eyes as he dropped his gaze to her neck. 

"I think—I can take care of it," he offered on a stilted tongue. 

(Y/N) didn't have any time to question before he was bringing his arm around to his lips, pushing his sleeve out of the way until his pale wrist was on display. The same way he had sunk his teeth into her neck, he now did to his own arm, opening up a gash with decidedly darker and thicker blood than she had ever seen before. 

She understood what he was doing for her—taking out the work so she could close her end of the bond by taking in his blood—but she still felt repulsed at the prospect of tasting any of the ichor oozing from his arm. She wasn't like him. She couldn't see any way she could enjoy the taste or the feeling of drinking his blood. 

All it took was one glance into his shimmering eyes, the same ones that had pleaded to her to not be scared of him, that prosed over his devotion to her, that had her shakily taking his arm in her grasp. 

"Wh-What do I do?" 

"Jus' drink, darling," he swallowed, "Quickly. Before it heals." 

For the sole fact that she wasn't sure if she could stomach seeing Harry bite into himself once more, she closed her eyes and brought his wrist to her lips. The second the blood filled her mouth, she wanted nothing more than to retch over and spit it out. It was metallic and heavy, coating her mouth in a way she couldn't compare anything to. 

The first gulp was the hardest—the most troubling. Just as soon as she swore her throat was closing, urging her to gag and be rid of everything she was taking down, something changed.

Similar in the way that there was an overwhelming stillness when Harry had bitten her, she was now left with an overwhelming sense of fullness. Before she had been contently in her skin, aware of every motion and touch. This time, she was conscious of everything that wasn't entirely her. 

She swore she could feel her own wrist warming, her own thoughts picturing her bent over Harry's arm, the feel of her dress under her palm. 

These were Harry's thoughts and feelings she was experiencing. She was no longer just her in that moment. 

The Bond was there, allowing her a peek into who it was that was at her side. 

Including the immense amount of love he was feeling just then. 

She had never been aware of a missing piece in her, never been aware that there could be more of her somewhere, until then. This is what Harry had been feeling when he bit her, when he looked at her with tears in his eyes and clung to her as if she were the only one to give him breath, to make him whole. 

Pulling his arm from her mouth, she didn't think twice of the blood staining her lips or coating her chin before she was throwing herself at him. Looping her arms around his neck, she clung to him with tears leaking down her eyes. 

That was the Bond she could feel pulsing through her system. Harry was now a part of her just as much as she was his. 

There was no doubt their clothing was ruined, blood staining the material that they had no chance of removing, with the ends of (Y/N)'s hair caught in the crossfire, but she couldn't find it in herself to care for more than anything but Harry. 

"I love you," she whispered, her voice brittle under the lump in her throat and the tears glazing her eyes. "We did it." 

"We did," Harry sighed, the smile on his face apparent in his tone, "I love you so much, darling."

(Y/N) could only close her eyes, melting into his hold with the greenhouse falling away around them. She clung to him tighter. 

"I've got you, darling," he murmured into her hair, his voice a soothing balm to her wired nerve endings. 

Relaxing into the moment, a quiet smile etched its way onto her lips. 

This was going to be the rest of her life. 

—————

"Harry, be quiet," (Y/N) giggled into his mouth. 

"Why?" he countered, only pulling away just far enough to speak, "It's just us here, remember?" 

Drawing him back to her lips with her hands on his cheeks, (Y/N) could barely keep the smile off of her face long enough to kiss him back. She sunk further into the luxe mattress under her back with every earnest press of his lips to hers, the first swipe of his tongue darting out to run along the seam of her lips.

After stumbling their way out of the greenhouse and through the gardens, Harry had led her to his bedroom with a kind of giddiness she had never seen in him before. Despite the blood on his face, he was almost child-like in his wonder with the way he looked at her. 

His bedroom was just as laden in luxury as the rest of the castle, though it was clear that there was someone actually inhabiting the space. She could see stamps of his presence everywhere; in the stationery on his desk to the unkempt bedding as if he couldn't be bothered to remake his bed everyday despite having nothing but time to fill. A pile of lavender bundles and chamomile blooms were stacked on his bedside, familiar twine holding the herbs together. 

When he offered her the bathroom to clean off, (Y/N) didn't hesitate, wanting to clean herself from the crust that was forming on her chin and the bits of blood that had dried in her hair. By the time she finished, there was a nightgown waiting for her and an invitation on familiar stationery to join Harry in his room when she was ready. 

Under different circumstances, she would have taken her time, luxuriated in the thick towels and scented lotion. There were different creams and oils that she didn't recognize, the kind she would have loved to take her time and learn. But there was someone waiting for her—someone that was as close to her husband as he could be without sending her down the aisle in a white dress. 

She didn't want to leave him waiting. 

(Though, she did notice that the bite he had given to her neck was healed almost completely. The wound that had bled enough to fill his mouth was now reduced to a pair of pin pricks on the side of her neck, just barely visible if someone was looking. She was going to have to ask at some point if that was the effect of the bond mending her skin).

That was how she found herself with Harry hovering above her, damp hair tossed across his pillow and her hands cradling his cheeks.

"I can feel you right here," he murmured to her in wonder, his hand on his chest where his unbeating heart sat. 

Sprinkling her own kisses along his cheek, she smiled against his skin. "I can feel you in my heart, too," she whispered against his skin.

Drawing away, (Y/N) tried to chase him for another kiss before failing and sinking back into her pillow with a breathy laugh. Harry's smile widened at the sound. His gaze slipped over her with enough depth that she could have sworn his hands followed the trail, goosebumps erupting on her skin. 

"I wish I knew what you were thinking," (Y/N) said, stealing the same line he said to her more than once. 

Matching her gaze once more, he looked at her with gleaming green shards in his eyes. "Just you. Always you." 

Creases appeared by her eyes from just how far her smile stretched. She knew that line just as well. "Of course it is," she teased, petting the pad of her thumb along the height of his cheek bone, 

"I mean it, my love" he smiled, sweeping a hand across her forehead to pull any stray hairs out of the way, "I have never felt before the way I do right now. Because of you." 

(Y/N)'s heart surged at his words. She knew exactly what he was feeling. Through something she was beginning to understand as their bond, she felt the ardent truth in Harry's words as much as she could hear it. There wasn't enough vocabulary available to tell him what it meant to her to feel and hear his love. 

Selfishly, she resorted to tugging him down for a kiss instead, hoping he understood just as well. 

He smiled into the kiss, a good sign, just before he settled in with her. 

With her legs spread wide for his hips to sit between, she couldn't help but to cling to him. There was no other way she could tell him how much she loved him, how deeply excited she was to spend the rest of the unknown with him. The feeling brought her back to the night before, when he had invited her here in the first place—when he had told her he loved her. 

Despite the chill of his touch, she had never felt so warm when recalling the memory. 

Her hands on his cheeks slid down from his face, following the line of his neck to his shoulders. The neck of his loosely buttoned shirt gave way under her touch, allowing more of his cold skin to sit on display for her to graze her fingers over. 

With their mouths slotted together, (Y/N) grazed one hand up the column of his throat unsure of if it was her own warmth being reflected back or if he was feeling the same way as she and something had awoken in his body. Without thinking, she dragged her nails lightly down his skin, entranced by the new skin she had never touched and barely seen before. 

Harry let out a low moan into her mouth, the sound rumbling against her own chest. Through the bond, she felt that touch of euphoria she was only familiar with through the bite in the greenhouse. Her stomach tightened at the thought. 

Pulling away from her mouth, he dragged his kisses down the line of her jaw. "What was that for, darling?" he asked, his voice a deep grumble compared to the dulcet tones he typically served her. 

"Did you like it?" she countered, a sheepish tone to her voice. She hadn't meant anything by it, really. 

It was the smile she felt against her skin that had her relaxing. "I did," he answered, dragging his lips down the slope of her neck, "Is that what you wanted?" 

"I always want to make you happy," she simply chirped back. 

Drawing away, Harry hovered over her with a slight curl to his lips and only a sliver of green showing around his dark pupils. "Your job is terribly easy then," he smiled, "As I can't help but feel anything but completely ecstatic around you." 

(Y/N) could only shake her head, suddenly feeling bashful under his gaze. She looped her arms around his neck and pulled him back to her with her face buried in his neck. She could feel the plume of laughter he let out as much as she could hear it. 

Pressing his weight into her as he reciprocated her hold, he wrapped his arms around her middle in a snug hug. The length of his body was pressed against hers, including the hard to ignore ridge nudging between her legs. While it wasn't the first time she had felt as much between the sheets in her bedroom, it still took her breath away. 

Harry undoubtedly felt her reaction, causing him to pull away just enough to look down at her. "What's wrong, love?" 

She floundered over her words, unsure of how exactly to phrase what she had caused her gasp and the feeling she had in the pit of her stomach. "You—I mean... You're—" 

Pursing his lips, Harry held back his smile. "I know, darling," he smiled, "Don't worry, alright? We've done enough tonight, I don't think we need to add anymore new experiences like we had planned." 

"But—" She unceremoniously dropped her gaze between them as if she could get a peek at what was prodding at her core. "I don't want to... You're not hurting, are you?" 

He couldn't help the laugh that fell from his mouth then. "No, I am not hurting," he smiled, squeezing her to him one last time before relinquishing his hold. 

Meandering out from between her legs, he moved to lay beside her. (Y/N) rolled with him, unwilling to let him go very far before he settled at her side, sharing the same pillow despite the vast amount of negative space available. 

"You don't want me to...?" (Y/N) trailed off, unsure of what exactly she was asking. She knew Harry had asked her over, hoping to take advantage of the time alone without having to worry about the creaks of her own home. Despite the turns that night had taken, she didn't want him to believe she was no longer willing, even if she was a bit exhausted. 

Harry's smile was tender on his lips, adoring just as his eyes were. He took one of her hands that had been clasped behind his neck and brought her palm to his mouth. Pressing his lips to the back in a smattering of kisses, he trailed that line up to her wrist and along her arm until she could no longer contain her giggling. The bright smile he gave in response had to match that of her own. 

"Not tonight, my love," he crooned, "I know we had talked about how we wanted to spend this night by ourselves, but I know my outlook on the night has changed some." His gaze dropped to the pinprick marks on her neck, his features brightening that much more at the sight. "I don't feel any rush to do more. We have all the time in the world to learn each other in that way. I'd rather tonight be about you and I and learning the bond we now have." 

Through that bond, she could feel his sincerity. There was no rush in him, nothing clamoring to take her virginity just to have it. It was more important to him to know his wife—his beloved, his bonded. Through his eyes, she saw the stretch of time they had together and the many nights they could fill between the sheets. There was no rush to be had when he had her for the rest of their lives. 

"You're sure?" she asked, shuffling closer to him over the velvet duvet, "I don't want to disappoint you." 

"How could you disappoint me, my love?" he asked through a dazzling smile, dimples denting his cheeks and perfect teeth on display. He brushed his hand over her cheek, fingertips grazing the fan of her lashes and the height of her cheekbone as if she were the most delicate of flowers in his garden. "You're here," he said in awe, "In my bed, brave enough to bond with me, and looking at me with stars in your eyes. How could I ever be disappointed with you?"

Heart thumping in her chest, (Y/N) looked at him and saw the life he had envisioned.

There were so many nights they were going to spend just like this, laden in velvet and kisses, chilling touches and warm gazes. They had all the time in the world, there was no reason not to savor these quiet moments with him.

All she could do was pull him in for a kiss.

—————

The following morning, (Y/N) was exhausted as she traipsed around the apothecary, though she felt as if she were floating off her feet. She took care to restock each and every cubby, straightening the displays and ensuring only the best of the best were placed out for customers. Her father was manning the register as she did so, leaving her to sit in her rose petal thoughts and appreciate the stiff muscles of her neck and bruises from her early morning climb back into her bedroom.

It was all reminders of the best night of her life, she decided. Her wedding night—even if it wasn't in the traditional sense. 

There was a new piece that now lived inside her, a remnant of Harry's soul that now replaced the piece she had given him last night. It felt easier to breathe, now knowing that he was on the other side. 

More than once since starting her day, her father had asked what had made her so chipper. She had only replied that she had slept well, or simply woke up in a good mood. She couldn't wait for the day that she could tell him that it was Harry that had her heart so full and eyes so bright.

The bell above the door jingled, alerting that a customer was coming in, though that wasn't what had (Y/N) perking up in her spot. There was a fumbling in her chest, as if her heart knew something she didn't.

Looking over her shoulder, her lungs squeezed when she saw who had walked through the door.

Armed with a draping bouquet of wisteria and the tiny bell-shaped blooms of lily of the valley, was Harry. He was dressed immaculately as ever, though she could see a color in his cheeks and his eyes almost glimmering with the amount of green shards that had surfaced. From the corner of her eye, she saw her father stiffen at his presence, though Harry gave her a passing glance with a lopsided smile before even acknowledging his presence.

"Mr. Styles," her father gruffly greeted him, "How can we help you today?" 

"Actually, sir," Harry started, a pleasant voice to match his expression though (Y/N) could see amusement swimming in the depths, "I was hoping I could have a chance to speak with your daughter." 

"She's busy at the moment, but I can help you with anything you need." Her father's voice now held an edge to it.

"Unfortunately," Harry said, skipping his gaze back to her where she stood with her hands knotted behind her back, "I don't think you can help me with this, sir. I was looking to ask for her permission to officially begin courting her—if she is interested, anyway" 

(Y/N) had no hope of wiping the smile from her face, but she did everything she could to keep herself from launching into her husband. Instead, before her father could make any objection of any kind, she piped up with, "I am definitely interested, Mr. Styles. You have all the permission in the world." 

Though she was sure that if she spared her father a glance he would be just as angry as the night he had thrown her invitation into the furnace, but she couldn't draw her eyes from Harry. 

She couldn't wait to marry him. For the second time, technically.

—————

lily of the valley, though delicate, can stop the heart when consumed

ahhhhh that is the end of my little Halloween/fall story! now my break will be starting and ill be back with more writing after the new year!!! thank u sm for reading, sorry for any mistakes, and please lmk if you have any ideas for anythign at all!

[frienderbee]

I wish April was more Kraang-ish in 2012- like if you're going to make her half Kraang mutant whatever, don't just give her cool powers. Just imagine okay:

Her hair is constantly floating slightly, initially in a sort of static way, which confuses her growing up but isn't a major sign of alarm

As she starts to develop and connect with her powers it starts floating a little more noticeably

it reacts to her powers which tend to react a lot to her emotions when she's not consciously pushing for them

because of this the turtles have found great entertainment in annoying April to watch her hair twitch and float around.

They can always tell when she's really mad cause her hair looks like she's been shocked and starts to spark

Because of her emotions effecting her powers and hair before she got a good control of her powers she spent a lot of her time desperately trying to stay calm when in school or in public

Despite how annoying Casey knows he can be he tries to help her stay calm whenever he sees her start to fuss over her hair. (The hair tie she keeps in usually keeping it at bay but not stopping it completely)

The whites of her eye have always been more of an off yellow, green at the edges if you really look. Her dad decided not to mention the way they seemed to glow unnaturally in the dark.

As her powers grew, a pinker hue started to spread in her Iris till eventually her eyes were purple with pink streaks instead of blue

Sometimes she looks in her fathers own blue eyes and wonders if she still looks human enough to pass as his daughter

Her teeth are pointy. Like really pointy. She's never tested how sharp they are (despite Donnies inquiries) but they are definitely sharp enough for her to avoid smiling naturally her whole childhood.

The turtles end up being the first people she finds herself comfortable enough around to let her real smile show (They thought they were cool and didn't question them further)

The turtles actually didn't notice how abnormal April looked and seemed until they met Casey and it clicked that humans usually don't glow slightly when they're happy- yep that one's definitely the Kraang DNA then

Donnie and Casey both briefly had moments where they wondered if they just adored April so much that she looked like she was glowing at times till they realised that sure they love April but she's definitely glowing for real

She's got a weird sort of energy around her, Donnie believes it may actually be the sheer power she holds but April feels more like everyone around her can just sense she's different.

The strange energy around her stopped her from ever really making any friends growing up, even before any of her Kraang features were too noticeable. Everyone immediately picking up that she was "alien", even if they didn't realise how literal that was.

April has no idea how Casey is seemingly immune to this "off-putting vibe"

He's not immune, he felt it but was more intrigued than scared.

The turtles felt it too but just assumed it was cause they weren't used to having a human around that it felt so "off".

Eventually everyone got so used to it that they only really notice this energy when April is using a lot of her power or is using it directly on them.

A very basic drawing I made to try and get an idea of how much about her I'd change. (I am much more a writer than an artist and really this is just for fun and as a way for me to organise my thoughts. I basically traced as much as this as I could from a screenshot)

More sketches of her

[ant1quarian]

My Siren AU

Exists on Trappist 1-E, but there's always the possibility in the AU of humanity yoinking a couple sirens and taking them back to earth.

Alien Species - Sirens

Quick overview:

Sirens are elusive, curious, and dangerous. While not inherently aggressive, they also won’t hesitate to attack if threatened.

They are aquatic creatures and quite generally far larger than any human– with the exception of guppies.

Sirens possess a strange, alluring quality to them that tends to draw in Humans and Monsters alike. They have webbed hands (that are quite commonly bioluminescent), a long tail, a sail that goes up their back, fin-like ears, scaly upper-bodies, and sharp claws. Their teeth are also very sharp, as the vast majority are very high on the food chain and are carnivorous.

Sirens are highly intelligent, sentient and sapient creatures; they’re quick to learn and capable of complex thoughts and emotions. Though they may have a little difficulty understanding most human languages, they’re quite good at knowing what direction the conversation may be going in.

They are modelled similarly to the aquatic creatures back on earth such as; Sharks, Whales, Squid, Jellyfish, Stingrays, etc. Though there’s plenty of Human and Monster scientists wanting to give a name to them, they are incapable of doing so, and instead they compare them to this “danger level” that has 7 different levels.

The different Kinships can be confusing at times to be able to tell apart, but if you pay enough attention to the specific trinkets they have in their hair– or the patterns on their skin/tail– you’ll be able to tell where they came from.

Notable Features/Appearance Description

Adult sirens are very rarely smaller than 18 ft long, and have a humanoid upper body. While their entire body is scaled– save for their hair– it can change feeling and colour.

Depending on how deep the siren’s kinship lives, their scales will be a certain colour.

A Siren’s bioluminescent patterns can change depending on which Kinship they come from, and the kind of decorative accessories they wear will also change depending on what level of the ocean they come from.

Gills — Sirens have gills that move when they breathe.

Reflective Eyes — Sirens eyes are reflective, similar to the way a cat’s eyes are reflective.

Bioluminescent/Luminous Markings — Sirens typically spend a lot of time in deeper water, and along with being underwater, they’ve adapted to communicate using bioluminescent or luminous markings on their tails, arms, and torso.

Nictitating Membrane — Similar to crocodiles, Sirens have a nictitating membrane, a transparent third eyelid which protects and moistens their eyes whilst underwater.

Abilities

Aquatic Habitation — Sirens can survive and adapt to underwater environments such as high water pressure and extreme water temperatures.

Speed Swimming — A Siren's powerful and streamlined tail and huge flukes can propel them through the roughest waters with incredible speed, grace and agility with minimal restrictions to water resistance. Like a dolphin, their fins can propel them high out of the water.

Extraordinary Strength and Speed - Sirens are naturally stronger and faster than humans.

Enhanced Senses — Sirens have better hearing, sight, and smell than humans. They’re also particularly sensitive to changes in pressure, weather, and their environment.

Siren Song — Sirens are able to emit a captivating singing voice that lures anyone who hears it toward the singer. Apparently those who are exposed to it have lingering side effects; the exact nature of these symptoms are as of yet not clearly defined. It’s been compared to a drug, describing it as something one needs. Eventually, the Siren Song leads the person that hears it to hallucinate seeing that Siren everywhere and hearing their Siren Song out in the ocean. The person will then be driven into the water to find that Siren and eventually drown. The song can be effective on anything or anyone, including men, women, and even animals.

Voice Mimicry — Sirens are able to mimic the voices of others or imitate sounds such as animal noises and explosions. Any sound a Siren hears, they can replicate with perfect clarity along with any manner the sound was made.

Echolocation — Sirens can emit sound waves and use the echoes that return from various objects to locate and identify the objects. Alternatively, they can use ambient sounds to do the same. Sirens can perceive one's surroundings by making a noise and listening for the reverberating sound waves. They can determine the location of objects or other individuals in the environment by use of reflected sound or sound waves. Echolocating animals emit calls out to the environment and listen to the echoes of those calls that return from various objects near them. They use these echoes to locate and identify the objects. Echolocation is used for navigation and for foraging or hunting in various environments.

Empathic Voice — Sirens can manipulate the emotions of other sentient beings through their voice. The effects depend on the Siren’s tone and intention: a joyful or mournful tone instils the same feelings in their listeners, etc. Evolved Sirens have been known to be able to enter someone’s mind and alter what they see, hear, and feel to their will, either as a defence mechanism or a way to protect whoever’s mind they’ve entered.

Fearful Scream — Sirens can utilise a scream attack that causes a shocking and paralysing fear in others.

Concussive Scream — Sirens can channel the force of a Banshee-like scream to create concussive bursts of air, almost like telekinetic force capable of breaking through solid steel doors, throwing grown men many metres away, and shattering glass, ear drums, and even skulls at their highest level.

Regeneration — Sirens possess greater regenerative capabilities than those of humans. They heal quickly from non-fatal injuries within a short period.

Rhythm Detection — Sirens have intuitive knowledge of the rhythm of soundwaves, enabling them to easily understand what kind of sound is being projected, where it comes from, where it is going, decipher the sound for any sort of code, etc.

Aquatic Zoopathy — Sirens can control aquatic creatures, along with the ability to create a deep bond with them.

Weaknesses

Water Dependency — Sirens are at their strongest and healthiest in seawater, they need ocean water to survive. Sirens can substitute sea water when above land with lake/river/rain/bath/shower water, although they become significantly weaker, more prone to illnesses and the substitution effects will eventually begin to fade – usually after 2 years – and the Siren will begin to die. Sirens can only last around 2-3 months from complete water deprivation(example; being held hostage without any access to any form of water).

Harpoons & Spears — Due to their regenerative properties, most weapons do not harm Sirens, harpoons and spears, things that stay embedded, are harmful to Sirens, as they have to be removed in order for the Siren to heal.

Bronze Dagger Coated in the Blood of Victim — A Siren can be killed by a bronze dagger coated in the blood of one of its victims.

Magic — Sirens are susceptible to the powers of magic.

Sensitive Necks — Due to having gills in both forms, Sirens have quite sensitive necks, specifically where their gills are situated. Siren’s gills are quite delicate and take longer to heal than other injuries. Sirens cannot transform to their natural form if their gills are injured in human form.

Light Sensitivity — Sirens are sensitive to sudden flashes or bursts of light. And most take a while to adapt to lighter environments, especially if said Siren is from a more colder ocean or from much deeper water than another.

Vulnerability to Love — Believe it or not, sirens are also vulnerable to love. Although they may be powerful and seductive, they are not immune to falling in love. Also, if a siren falls in love with a mortal or a non-siren creature, they can lose their powers and become mortal themselves.

Vulnerability to Reason — Lastly, sirens are vulnerable to reason. Their enchanting songs can cloud the judgement of their victims, but if someone is able to think clearly and logically, they can resist the sirens’ calls.

Hierarchy

The leader of a Kinship will always be the most experienced and strongest. As soon as the leader is not strong enough to lead once more, they become the advisor, and a new leader steps up to take their place.

Siren Laws

Attack Only When Threatened - Sirens have a very genocidal backstory, so the Ancients came up with this law that all abide by.

Don’t Harm The Young – Sirens have a moral code, and no one dares to break this rule. All Young– whether Guppies, Cubs, Or Babies– from any species will not be harmed.

Respect Territory - To make sure no all-out wars break out once more, this law has been erected.

Siren “Families”

Sirens don’t have the concept of last names, though they do have family. Siren families can be deciphered by the colour, kinship songs, and the scale quality of their tails. As every different family has their own way of scale care.

Union

An unbreakable connection between two Sirens of any gender or Kinship. Siren Weddings vary depending on where they’re from.

Gifts

As customary, when courting another Siren, you give each other gifts. The type of gift you give them describes the strength of the relationship.

Pearls — Pearls are typically given at the start of a relationship. The pearls signify that you hold affection for your partner. And depending on the quality of the pearl, it shows how much affection you hold and how you hope the relationship will progress.

Sea Shells — Sea shells are usually given to your partner on important dates, like birthdays, new tide cycles, and full moon celebrations, or just, dates. Though they can also be gifted at any time throughout the relationship. They’re like little presents.

Conch Shells — Conch shells are gifted on anniversaries. They’re meant to signify the strength of the relationship and how deep the bond has become. They also symbolise how your affection for your partner has deepend.

Serpentines — Serpentines are lovely gifts for full moon celebrations. It symbolises connection, exploration, and rebirth.

Ocean Jaspers — Ocean jaspers are engagement gifts, they’re given to your partner when you want to propose Union.

Live Sea Creatures — Live sea creatures are gifted the night of the Union, depending on the environment, the creature gifted can be a whale, manatee or orca calf, any kind of juvenile shark, stingray, manta ray, or turtle.

Scales — The most intimate gift a Siren can give their partner. It signifies the absolute deepest and most affectionate connection one can have.

Sayings and Phrases

 “I have sea foam in my veins, I understand the language of waves.” — SAYING

“The sea is full of lost souls this night.” — SAYING

“I have found much beauty in the Dark as I have found a lot of horror in light.” — SAYING

 “There is an unspoken rule amongst Sirens, one we all follow, like a natural instinct. Preservation.” — SAYING

“We are bound to the sea as much as you are bound to oxygen.” — SAYING

Traditions

Danger Catagories

Similar to Sea Levels, there are Siren Danger Catagories.

Sunzone

Sunzone Sirens are your “Reef Sirens” who are very generally passive– though will get violent if threatened. They’re the least dangerous and are the most willing to show the Landborn their ways.

These have reef-fish like patterns.

Shadowzone

Those who are defined as “Shadowzone Siren” likely exist within the Shadowzone area. They’re not particularly dangerous– more of a Neutral area– and they’re willing to communicate with Landborn. However, they do tend to prefer to stay away from their crafts.

They have warm colours– such as orange, yellow, pinks and warm blues.

Twilightzone

Twilightzone Siren are considered to be fully neutral. They will accept mild and small intrusions into their territory, but will immediately get territorial if too many Landborn get close to it.

These have varying autumn-like colours. Any “Warm” colours will be muted and usually have a bit of a colder aspect to them.

Midnightzone

Midnightzone Siren are territorial and don’t appreciate others pushing their boundaries. Any Landborn crafts that enter their territories are usually damaged or forcefully shoved back into another’s waters.

They have very dark colouring, but vibrant bioluminescent patterns.

Voidzone

Voidzone Siren are, for want of no better words, dangerous. Though they do not usually travel in Kinships, they are highly dangerous just by themselves. Most of the time they take the shape of Jellyfish or Squids, but the rarest and most deceptive form they can take is that of a Shark’s. Deceptive because they can pass as a Twilightzone– sometimes even a Shadowzone– Siren, while being incredibly dangerous.

The colours down here can vary from vibrant to really dark colours, considering it’s already so deep that nothing can see anything.

Mythology

Deities

Trappist 1

This Deity is that of the Sun, which shines light upon the Solar System. It is seen as the Mother, who embraces all of it’s children. Those in Trappist 1-G believe that The Mother once had another parent, The Pa. Mother and Parent had 7 children:

Trappist 1-b

Trappist 1-c

Trappist 1-d

Trappist 1-e

Trappist 1-f

Trappist 1-g

Trappist 1-h

And you can tell how old they are by how far away from The Mother they are.

The Mother is warm-hearted now and loves all of her children very much, but she was once narcassistic, pessimistic, and very angry. 1-H recieved the brunt of this, as The Mother was wracked with grief after The Parent died which turned her into what she was.

She regrets everything she did to 1-H and 1-G, but knows she cannot take it back, so she will offer as much warmth as she can until they either fully break away or come back to her.

Trappist 1-b

The youngest of them all. Trappist 1-b is considered to be clingy towards The Mother and had the closest relationship to it. Trappist 1-b has a firey temper and always has its eyes turned towards The Mother.

Trappist 1-b feels as if all but C have abandoned The Mother and don’t see her enough, causing a vengeful spirit to rise up within it.

Trappist 1-c

Trappist 1-c is the second youngest and craves attention from The Mother. They have a good relationship with The Mother, and is slowly being prepared to be sent out into the world. Trappist 1-c is anxious, nervous, but also optimistic. It’s also know for having a bit of a temper.

Its eye is always fixed upon The Mother.

Trappist 1-d

Trappist 1-d, the third youngest, is known for it’s resilience. Although it can be very stubborn, it’s caring, and depicted as a hard-working Deity. Its relationship with The Mother is good.

Its eye is always fixed upon The Mother.

Trappist 1-e

Trappist 1-e, the fourth youngest, is known for its kindness and peacefulness. It has a stubbornness about it and a sense of power, but it prefers to relax and chat with The Mother and its siblings, rather than being furious at the world.

Its eye is always fixed upon The Mother.

Trappist 1-f

Trappist 1-f, the Fifth youngest, is known for its exhaustion. 1-f is depicted as tired and numb, choosing not to talk much to its other siblings. This is due to their Moons crashing together in anger at each other before dissipating and creating a small ring around 1-F. Pieces of its friends, never to fully recover.

Its eye is always fixed upon The Mother.

Trappist 1-g

The saddest sibling, Trappist 1-g is the sixth youngest and perhaps the one with the most terrible tale. It had one moon, and they loved each other very much, but one day they got too close when the Moon attempted to hide from The Mother’s disapproving gaze and smashed into 1-G. Tears broke through the walls 1-G had created as it cried and cried now that it had lost its loved one. Moon’s remnants carried enough intent to create children, and the salty tears 1-G cried created a vast ocean covering its entirety for them to grow in. It’s melancholy and wistful, symbolising Lost Love and Sadness.

1-G does not have a very good relationship with The Mother, which is why their eye will face away from The Mother for the entirety of a Sol.

Trappist 1-h

Trappist 1-H, the oldest sibling, is cold-hearted and angry. It strongly dislikes The Mother, which is why it is the furthest away from Her light. The Mother was still learning how to parent when 1-H was born, which means many very wrong methods were used to teach 1-H lessons.

1-H is steadily looking away from The Mother constantly, while The Mother pines for the child she ruined. She regrets very much of it, and she was going through the grief of losing The Parent at the time of 1-H’s existence, but that is no excuse and 1-H continues to hate her.

[4ggravation]

sumeru boys redesigns + notes

as you may know, i redesigned the sumeru boys a few weeks ago because, as much as i love them to bits, their designs are well. not that great in some areas. also because i wanted to draw them more often without the roadblock of their designs being so complicated. i've mainly been drawing my cyno and tighnari redesigns, but i did also do alhaitham and kaveh, so i thought that i'd show off these redesigns in one post, along with some notes on why i made certain decisions. hope you enjoy!

(pre-note: just so no one gets confused, i also renamed everyone when i did my redesigns, giving tighnari and alhaitham first names and cyno and kaveh last names.)

tighnari ❀

(renamed abdullah al-tighnari; tighnari was made his surname because that was the case for the real guy he was based on)

i went into this thinking "how can i make this design more appealing to me while still retaining what the original design meant?". since tighnari is one of my favorites in the game overall, i put a lot of pressure on myself to make a decent design.

a lot of tighnari's design inspiration comes from moroccan (specifically amazigh) culture, which i kept in my mind through most of the drawing. this inspiration shows in his bead necklace (i forget the name), his belt, and his earring, which i remade to mirror the shape of moroccan headpieces.

gave him some muscles because there's no way a guy with his job wouldn't have them. also a bottom-heavy fat distribution for self-indulgent purposes.

the design has less layers and lighter/flowier clothes because of tighnari's canon sensitivity to heat. if you're living in the rainforest (a famously humid biome), you probably wouldn't be wearing what canon tighnari does, heat sensitivity or not.

gave him some traits that are popular headcanons, such as the flower thigh tattoo, the sharp teeth, the scars, the claw-like nails (with the middle and ring nails filed down for No Reason), and the lichtenberg figure. also gave him tan skin and wavy hair because i Cannot deal with canon nari looking like that.

sturdy shoes! archery gloves! his vision on his belt! quality of life features that an actual forest ranger would have!

i will admit that the slit pants, the shorts, and the tights were all for self-indulgence reasons, but i think they go together well with the rest of the outfit too.

a braid in his hair for cynari marriage purposes. (i hc that in sumeru, marriages are consummated by braiding each other's hair)

kaveh ❂

(renamed kaveh laghmani; surname is of iranian origin, but i forgot the meaning)

another real quick note: if i change a character's pronouns in their rewrite, i'll be using those pronouns in their notes. here, kaveh goes by he/she pronouns (she just like me fr).

his canon design is actually my favorite of the sumeru boys, so this redesign was more of a simplification while still keeping the original color scheme and such.

from my research, kaveh's mainly inspired by persian/iranian culture. this is what i had in mind with her shirt and her jacket... shawl... thing. idk what to call it.

kept him a skinny twink; imo, her being a twink in canon fits pretty well.

emphasized the bird of paradise motif with the thing on her side looking like feathers. you will see this again with alhaitham.

made him brunet for more cohesion with the color palette, also because i don't like the whole blonde-fading-to-brown situation he has going on in his canon design.

flowers!!! also giving him a pretty headpiece bc this guy is flashy. also also keeping the feather, it's cunty and fun.

i wanted to make kaveh obviously gnc/genderqueer without going into full-on feminine outfit territory. you can tell she's not quite cis but it's not super in your face yk?

made his vision one of his earrings like yae miko because i forgot to give it a proper place in my concept drawings lmao

quality of life feature: actual artist gloves that aren't cut off. seriously, them being fingerless in the canon design completely negates the point of artist gloves.

removed his braids because of the aforementioned marriage headcanon.

alhaitham ⚘

(renamed amir al-haytham; i wanted to give him the most basic name possible, though i fought with myself a lot on whether to write it as al-haitham or al-haytham)

my god i despise his canon design. it's so... not him. my goal with a redesign was just to give him an outfit that made sense for his character because jesus his canon design is an atrocity.

alhaitham is mainly inspired by either saudi arabian or general west asian culture (like what's constant and such). i was mainly inspired by casual saudi arabian menswear when i was designing him.

hot take but i don't like alhaitham being buff in canon. i made him chubby/fat in my redesign mainly for self-indulgent reasons, but also because it makes more sense to me. also gave him facial hair because yes

kept his color scheme mostly the same, along with the eye motif. emphasized the eagle motif slightly with the feather hip piece (see: kaveh's redesign).

gave him a headscarf (not a hijab or anything like that, just a regular headscarf) because he felt like the type, plus i got the design idea for it and went "well i can't not include it now".

wanted to give him the vibes of an npc who was forced to be a main character

no he isn't wearing his vision anywhere, he doesn't carry it around in my rewrite.

quality of life features: more sensible, looser clothes that are easier to live in- really the whole design is meant to be a quality of life improvement first and foremost

cyno ⚡︎

(renamed cyno al-sahrawi; surname meaning is "of the sahara" or more generally, "of the desert")

like kaveh, i'm gonna be using he/they pronouns for cyno here because that's what i put in my rewrite.

in my opinion, cyno's design is relatively solid, but with a few glaring flaws that kinda ruin everything for me. i'll bring them up as these notes go on.

they're very obviously inspired by ancient egyptian culture, specifically anubis. like, it's very blatant. with my redesign, i wanted to keep those inspirations in mind while making the outfit less stereotypical and make more sense.

why does this man, who's said to fight a lot, not wear a shirt? why are you letting the place where most of your vital organs reside breathe freely? also, why does this guy not have scars?

simplified a bunch of patterns, especially below the belt and with his headpiece. also made their helmet(?) a darker, more saturated purple to attract your eyes' attention to it.

gave him eye of horus makeup for a little cultural nod

the black piece in the back was made to look like a tail to further the jackal thing.

curly hair that resembles lightning bolts <3

the shoes were inspired by traditional egyptian footwear, because if this guy is out in the desert all the time, i'm not letting him go without some kind of foot protection.

quality of life features: a bit of armor on his arm (partially for aesthetic purposes), less flowy bits on his helmet and hips to prevent distraction or getting caught on things, the aforementioned shoes

added braids for cynari purposes, because i'm me.

hope you enjoyed reading this! please keep in mind that this is all off the top of my head and doesn't even go into color theory, how the designs mirror each other, and other smaller things like that. i might make a part 2 someday going into those things, but who knows with my memory lmao

reblogs are heavily appreciated!

[manny-hughez]

Semi human designs!!!!

Previously I said how I think all the dragon children would (since I wanted an excuse to draw human designs like everyone else) be able to disguise themselves as humans in order to make themselves seem desirable to be looked after whenever they’re separated from their mother dragon and I very much wanted to expand on this idea.

My main point of reference for this would be the movie Pom Poko, in how the tanuki CAN disguise themselves as humans but with varying levels of success; this is why some of the eggs will continue to show dragon like features such as sharp teeth, big ears, elongated nails, horns, wings, spikes, tails etc.

The amount of success each egg gets in concealing their dragon like features, however, differs based on four varying factors: What their goal is in disguising themselves, who they’re trying to appeal to/where they’re picking up their human traits, their predisposed skill levels and simply what traits they either value or rely on the most.

Most noticeably though, the main features which would persist amongst the dragons would be their ears, teeth, nails and more noticeably horns. The first due to how subtly ingrained the features are and the latter due to amount of pride dragons have in their horns — especially Chayanne who likens his to a crown, similarly to his hero Technoblades.

In addition, dragons which have been injured on dragon specific features will then struggle a lot in masking them and (as a consequence) will struggle hiding the rest due to how exhausting it is to maintain their form. Ramón who used to heavily rely on his wings, upon having one destroyed, would then struggle to conceal anything except his tail. Especially since his parents have very prominent animal features; he isn’t being constantly reminded to conceal them.

[forecast0ctopus]

how do you use references when you draw fanart or figure out how to draw irl characters?? it's just that i've been looking through your art and i feel like you ability to capture a character's idk essence, in vibes + appearence, are just unmatched! they're all so dynamic and like them i just <33

aaa thanks so much!! im glad to hear that since i honestly dont watch a ton of live action? i generally have done a lot more fanart for animated things so thats nice to hear haha anyways though!! i have far too many words that may or may not make sense to say so i'll put how i use references and figure out live action characters below

the main rule i like to keep in my head is that i am drawing the character, not the actor, if that makes sense?

this is all taking arthur as an example, to show what kinds of things i look for!! if i were talking about merlin any other live action character like. bobby briggs or something all the details would be super different haha a way i like to familiarize myself with a live action character at first is tracing which i must preface by saying TRACING ISNT BAD!! its a tool and it just needs to be used correctly. tracing is a great way to figure out a method to drawing things, so its really valuable in studying. im not gonna address using tracing in finished artwork rn bc thats where it gets a little dicey and i would talk about it too much.

i dont really need to do this for arthur anymore but it was a fun exercise lmao

sorry the images are so crunchy i always forget i work on small canvases, anyways in capturing a likeness i like to emphasize and exaggerate a little which features make the character most recognizable to me.

he's got a sharp nose which is bumped at the bridge and a little bit upturned at the bottom. when he's smiling his eyes crinkle a lot and his cheek muscle becomes more pronounced and connects into the corner of his mouth

very square jaw. his brows are thicker near the center and don't have much of an arch. his cheeks are hollowed with neutral expression and the muscles on the sides of his mouth (depressor anguli oris, if i remember correctly lol) are obvious when the corners of his mouth are downturned

the corners of his mouth fold in a lot when he bares his teeth if hes angry or agitated, its a different type of fold when hes relaxed or smiling

his masseter is rather pronounced when he's talking or agitated, and i usually connect the line of it to the line that goes down from the inner corner of his eye. i forget what the word for it is rn but its different from eyebags (though i do like to draw eyebags)

but none of these details work if whatever hes doing in the drawing isnt in character, yknow? like he could look like arthur but he wouldnt really feel like arthur if hes not acting like arthur. idk it s hard for me to put to words im sure u get what i mean enough

body shape and language are also super important to think about, these are some things i keep in mind with arthur - hes shredded but not like marvel movie dehydrated shredded (good for him) - hes very broad and his shoulders slope down because of his trapezius muscles - he takes up a lot of space! he hardly ever curls up or sits with his feet up in his chair. even when hes sleeping hes pretty sprawled out - his "closed off" body language is crossing his arms or raising his left hand to twist his index finger ring with his thumb (worried/thinking gesture) - he moves with a lot of purpose usually and isnt often clumsy (unlike merlin lmao) - he moves his shoulders a lot when he walks (see top left image)

honestly think body language is just as important as facial features if not more, for the purpose of creating personality and character

i probably sound like i think way too much about this stuff which i. i kind of do but not in so many words i dont need this many words when its all in my brain. but yeah thats how i figure out how to draw a live action character i guess? anyways this was kind of a mess haha

[proceduralpassion]

How Do You Do This Shit For Fun?

Day 2 of Narcoctober - Create a crossover for the OG Narcos show and NMX, featuring at least one character from each.

Characters: Javier Peña x Walt Breslin (DEA besties)

CW: language, discussion of drugs

WC: ~1k

A/N: Another day of Narcoctober down! Played a little fast and loose with canon and events bc there's no rules to this fandom shit. If you see any spelling/grammar errors, no you didn't. Enjoy some humor and a twinge of angst.

There’s something to be said about feeling out of one’s league when you’re comparing yourself to the guy who’s got like ten years on you.

Javi meets Walt a few months after his training period since becoming a DEA agent. He’s working out of El Paso, not on one given assignment, but working on multiple cases in the efforts to prove himself. He’s skirted by without much hazing or abuse as the new kid on the block, but he still draws the short straw and assigned the paper trail-intensive type of cases. It’s nothing you can seek your teeth into, but he bares it because this is the road to proving himself.

Walt’s able to transition out of his desk job in Sacramento and joins the crew down in El Paso under Kuykendall’s command. He takes a liking to Peña and brings him up under his wing, so to speak.

Javi’s heard the rumors, listened to the rumblings of what happened of the airfield disaster. He’s already been warned to be wary of Breslin for fear of having his own new DEA career in the hairs of being flushed down the toilet. On the other side of the spectrum, he’s heard guys rave about how much they admire the ballsy moves he’s willing to make to smoke traffickers out. Javi pays it all no mind though, wanting to form his own notions of the guy before passing judgment.

And so far, the guy’s an enigma.

He’s got a subtle way of making people feel inferior to his own thoughts and intentions. Not in a spiteful kind of way, but Javi can tell he’s probably pissed off a lot of people across the border with his aloof attitude and superiority complex. He’s found that when working with Mexican law enforcement, the ethnocentrism steaming off of American officials pisses them off more than the actual cartels sometimes. But Walt also seems to care deeply. He puts in the work, willing to go the extra mile. He’s quick to get back up after being kicked down to the ground. He takes the time to show Peña the ropes, genuinely wanting to share gems that’ll help him down the road as he continues on his journey.

They start running together in the mornings, Breslin’s way of making sure Peña stays sharp and non-complacent in his paper trail cases. Running, itself, is a relatively new hobby for Walt, something he wanted to pick up now that he’s serious about quitting smoking.

He gets up to five miles and Javi feels like he could die before he’s two miles in. What’s worse is that Walt is just talking as usual, spewing off random pieces of advice and sharing new developments about the rising beef between the Sinaloa and Tijuana cartels. Javi can’t get anything but grunts and squawks out as he voices acknowledgement that he’s listening as they run along.

Even his fucking jogs in between his sprints are fast as shit, Javi thinks to himself. It may be off hours, but he’s not going to be outdone by this guy. Call it a chip on his shoulder or just a guy thing, but it wasn’t happening even if his lungs felt like hot ass cotton right about now.

His descent to the ground is less than graceful when they take a break in the midpoint of their run. Walt simply sits on the nearby stoop while Javi stumbles and then flails his legs open on the ground. It’s a quiet area in the neighborhood, but he’d just have to get hit by a car if one happened on this silent road because he simply wasn’t moving.

He heaves in heavy breaths of air, fiending for oxygen much like the addicts that kept the cartels rich.

He opens his eyes when he hears movement and the sound of grunts next to him. They widen when he realizes that Breslin is doing fucking sit ups on the sidewalk. Peña curses to himself when he gathers himself up to start right alongside him.

“Gotta work the full body out,” Walt remarks.

This time, Javi makes no effort to hide rolling his eyes, but Walt doesn’t notice because he’s striking up another conversation about Gallardo possibly being the key to getting intel about just how expansive the cartel’s pockets were when it came to influence and corruption. At this point, Javi isn’t even trying to be engaged in the dialogue anymore. He’s just ready for this workout to end and to lay prone on his bed for the rest of the day.

It’s only when the discussion veers from work to the potential idea of their workouts becoming a regular occurrence that Peña finally snaps.

“How do you do this shit for fun?!”

His elbows scrape against the concrete like a vinyl record cutting off suddenly. He tells Breslin “fuck you” in his head when he looks over to see him still doing sit ups with perfect form, no less.

He has the nerve to fucking shrug as his reply to Javi’s question before finishing up and finally standing. He gives him a hand to help him rise along with him, which the younger DEA agent takes. “Call it a vice,” Walt shrugs again and looks down, almost as if embarrassed, “This job’s gonna suck the shit out of you. Better to have running as an outlet or shit instead of something else.”

Javi rubs at his elbows and watches the way Breslin morphs his face back into neutrality after the grim lacings in his tone just now.

They finish running the rest of their trail and Javi thinks that maybe he’s cracked a piece of the Breslin Rubik’s cube. The one-track mind when it came to tearing down cartels. The failed operations and burnt bridges. The occasional whiff of alcohol he emanated at random times throughout the work day.

This crusade might be the death of him.

Before he goes down, he wants to make sure the game doesn’t take others down too.

“There’s another way, Javi,” he says on another run, “There’s always gonna be another way, a better way to win.”

A/N: This was originally just gonna be a funny little fic but somewhere along the way, it became a mini character study as well? Sawry bout it. Click here if you wanna be added to my taglist. Taglist: @asirensrage @narcosfandomdiscord

[snowyvoid]

ohhh my god your benrey design slaps. can i hear more about the mandibles and antennae? if there's any more to share, that is. are they always there? or is it more of a comfort thing to keep? what sort of colouration does your benrey have? -- voidvoice

thank you so much!!!

ok so. around around 2022/2023 i first gave him antenna because i was watching the hlage streams and saw some of the weird alien plants that looked vaguely like antennae and went "lol what if benry had that" and went crazy from there. as i said before his mandibles originated from me wanting to incorporate some headcrabish features into him, but the eventually developed into more insect looking over time. the whole insect/invertebrate look i gave benry factors into the idea i have for his complete transformation kinda look. though i do think his TRUE true from would be something like what you see when you stand up too fast, i cant really draw that. ill add a few drawings from early 2023 i did of his buggish true form at the end of this. anyway. i think the closest looking real life creature that fits his mandibles are mantis shrimp, or maybe praying mantis'. his antennae change a lot in my drawings, but they mostly look like bipectinate antennae in moths and butterflies. yes he absaloutely has a heightend sense of smell because of these, and it fucks him up all the time. he cannot work in food related places because of this.

i think he has them out as much as he possibly can, and he thoroughly preffers to look as alien as he possibly can at all times. he can put away the mandibles if absaloutely necessary, but the antennae cant go away. they are however the most permanent parts of his general appearance when he shapeshifts, for example if he where to shapeshift into a dog, that dog would have antennae. or something.

in my personal idea of postcanon, he keeps all his weird powers and stuff, but if he were to loose them, the mandibles and antennae would go along with them. he would be extremely upset about this. so i guess, in a sense, yes they are absaloutely a comfort thing for him. hes kinda werewolf adjacent to me? like, werewolves always seem to have one or two random canine-like features while in their human forms, for example sharp teeth or claws, and for benry this is his insect stuff. the werewolf idea doesnt really work though because he can change whenever he wants, and he wasnt infected by the alien stuff.

the colouration for his antennae and mandibles changes to his sweetvoice, but default to a gradient blue-greenish look. i have no idea about the rest of his features, but i tend to default to blue-green tones for everything about him. i think this is based on his text colour??? maybe. i like the idea of his skin being human coloured though, adds to a sort of uncanny valley he would emit. hes a shapeshifter but there is always something slightly offputting about what he turns into. if that makes sense.

i hope this explains what you wanted to know!!! sorry if this doesnt make much sense, im not that great at putting thoughts in my head into actual word, lol. but ive been having these headcanons for so long so it feels good to get them out.

here is a little collage sort of thing of all the drawings ive made related to benry in his "true" form. these span from early 2022 to now. some have gordon as a kind if size comparison, but benry changes size a lot so they dont really. work. but whatever. also the gordon design in these is old, not my current idea of him. enjoy!!!!!!!

there is a lot more to explain about my ideas around him that would take much longer than this, and a lot i havent quite figured out yet too.

thanks for reading!!

[eldritch-spouse]

Heya, hope u have nice, sunny day here👋

Should I say I'm blessed that I found ur blog? Prob yes cuz thanks to you, i got out of my artblock hole first time in three years 🛐 God is a woman truly, in Pinnie I trust- No jokes, thanks dearly. Let me throw some quick messy sketch on idea I got after crunching on some good stuff at your blog and by this morally prepare myself to throw some little drawings of ur ocs later lmao

Some visuals: https://ibb.co/album/LrrXvv

Looks like here's a strange new visitor, huh...

Meet Double Trouble!

First impression.

It's hard to tell that here's a monster in front of you – after all, "main" body looks 100% human! Ah, yes, for sure, Eve is true femme fatale with this charming looks of hers. It's no surprise she steals attention easily with this seductive eyes and lovely lips- And what about her long, luxurious hair? Perfection as it is!

Ah, but she looks kind of sick, you know? And it's not even about her deadly pale skin- Sometimes it seems like she's talking- even arguing with herself- And her hair moves strangely even without any wind from times to times. Sometimes she can even puke out very strange things... Hmm, have you ever seen her eating them, actually? Or just eating at all?

Of course, pretty ladies never walk alone – and in case of Eve, her guardian dog is glued to her... Well. Quite literally. Grghaath never delays his early introduction, opening his massive jaw on the back of her head just to slip in some comment every time he hears something intriguing without thinking twice. Or, for example, when he can sense some food nearby- And, well, with amounts he's consuming, here's no surprise Eve doesn't have to bother herself...

How he decide "what is food" is a different story tho. Pft, what a brute.

"I'm hungry, so hungry... Eve? Eve? Look, this thing looks delicious..."

"... Please, don't take him seriously, he is definitely not a brains in our duo."

What are they?

Joke of nature Very strange case of symbiosis between human and... Well, something non-human. Roughly speaking, they're closer to changeling in the matter of literally turning inside out if they feel the need to swap. For the most of the time, Grghaath hides inside Eve, letting her communicate with outside world; in cases of danger, they change, since in terms of raw power Grghaath is a clear winner. It's needless to say that their harmony and teamwork are impressive – no-no, what is truly shocking, that even after years of being in such unique alliance, sharing thoughts, etc., both of them saved their original personalities and clear lol minds. For now, they are like roommates, but with different sides of body... Bodymates? Side neighbours?? Inside-outsties??? 🤔🤔🤔

Grghaath looks like giant, constantly wriggling and moving mass of flesh with a lot of mouths full of sharp teeth (prob will remake it lol). Eye on his body belongs to Eve.

Eve looks like human mostly, no special features aside from long "scar" on her back and big mouth at the back of her head.

Both can use tendrils(?) masked as hair; both can talk with eachother in thoughts if needed, share senses/thoughts/memories/etc. Eve become much stronger after their fusion, Grghaath gained higher intelligence for those of his kind and brighter emotions.

Quick description.

Eve: maneater😏

Grghaath: maneater😧

Eve, as been said before, brains and beauty, face of the pair and the main reason both of them haven't gone insane honestly – mostly because of her incredible self-control. She has realistic outlook on life and strong personality, and she was already mature enough at the moment of fusion- This is why she successfully asserted dominance over her at that time new neighbor in a shortest time possible. Not a mothering type, but "cool elder sister with knowledge behind her back" type – smart and reliable one, doesn't afraid to take responsibility for her actions. Can be overly pushy and even suffocating tho-

Grghaath, well... He's not a baddest neighbour for sure. If you will ignore his bad eating habits, he's pretty chill dude! Can and will talk with people around him about some silly random shit. Usually mistaken for the some type of parasyte, which makes him so offended........ And leads to funny and emotional protests. Scarily fast learner! Will laugh it off if someone points it out. Very good hunter, adapts to every condition so quickly– well, yes... He doesn't like to get scolded if he gets catched for eating some lame loser. It's a need to be smart and fast enough. Still too animalistic to clean up his meals perfectly, so he still gets scolded :(

What's their motivation?

Grghaath wants to find truth. Both of them has no information about what in the goddamn world fused them nor who they were before their meeting, all their memories are foggy. Must say, it's not a "i want to get rid of her" thing, mostly just interest.

Eve doesn't have any strict plans for life, she goes where wind blows. For now she tries to find someone like them- well, like Grghaath. She knows that he feels lonely. Sometimes she wonders if it's better for them to be separated, so he can live normal live for his kind.

•••

Phew, this was exhausting- Anyways 😔🙏 hope it wasn't too bore for you lmao. Maybe I will polish this idea later. Only best wishes, I will come back with some sketches again soon-

Oooooooo-wow, that is a giant wall of text. Your general writing style reminds me of someone too. Hm 🤔.

I don't really know if this oc is connected to anything regarding my narratives or you just decided to show me them? In which case thank you, but I would really suggest you post this on your account because it's likely to get swallowed in a cluster of other asks here. And you deserve visibility, honestly.

I'm glad I broke that 3 year artblock that's one Hell of a fucking badge to wear! 💪👀

[fiddlepot]

What have I been up to?

Rigorous twink drawing, that's what.

This guy's chosen name is Solon and he's 50% a dragon. I've been enjoying my micron pens

And I've also been enjoying scanning from my sketch book it's really fulfilling I do recommend

So!!!!!

Here's a little bit about him bc I'm feeling silly and want to ramble. Ik my original content doesn't get as many notes but I really don't have much motivation for otherwise rn and I don't want to shut up about him. (Anon in my drafts your ask will be answered soon)

Also since I've been feeling demon slayer a lot he will be in my crossover au, particularly with doma bc tbh I kind of ship that guy with most of my ocs these days.... May make a doma x ryūshi!reader soon so watch out for that or whatever..... I still ship kokudouma tho............

He but honestly not him!

He was born of a dragon father and a human mother. The father was a deadbeat just like mine. 💀 He was also the one who gave Solon the name "solon," but upon literally fucking leaving he was left with a western-seeming given name and a Japanese last name because dad never got married to mom. But mom calls him ryūshi (龍子) which means "child of a dragon" or "dragon child"

Which... He is. But he kinda hates it. Hates the meaning and hates the bullying he received for having "demon-like" features...which are literally just traits he inherited from dragons in my ou (Who wouldn't?)

So he goes by his father's name and tells anyone he meets of his western name instead. Which weirds people out when they realize that yeah, he is Japanese lmao! But he usually explains it by saying he studied abroad for a period of time and adopted a western name as a result.

That aside... What traits does he have?

Claws.

Fangs.

Eyes. (Heterochromic, his right eye a direct juxtaposition to his left eye. One is draconic and the other is... Normal 💀)

Bioluminescent marks. Dont ask how.

Carnivorous tendencies. All he'll eat is anything with meat this guy is a vegan's worst nightmare

And he hides all of these to the best of his ability!

Noticeably sharp teeth? Yeah I think I'll just not speak often. Let's throw on a mask to boot and never open my mouth wide when I don't have one.

Carnivorous tendencies? My bad bro I'm just a meat lover (both kinds)

As for his marks, they tend to fizzle out for most of the year, and reappear around the same time his birthday month is right around the corner... Or already there.

He can't control the glow so he kinda just goes into solitary confinement and when he isn't doing that he's bundling up to cover said glow 💀

He's also at his strongest around the time the marks appear. Stronger than he can manage. There's a lot of money spending around those times because if he does literally anything too hard his possessions can and will shatter to pieces.

As far as like, the KNY universe is concerned and his involvement with it?

Mightve considered becoming a slayer, but he instead chose against it because the occupation seemed very risky. You know. In spite of his unusually high endurance. And general hardiness.

He has no reason to become involved with a battle for others when he's battling himself ig

But that's not to say he hasn't bounced around the option.

He's only encountered a demon once and that demon mistook him for another demon. They never saw each other again.

But he has come across slayers plenty of times, and he admires their resolve to protect those around them.

Not exactly sure why nobody knows about them. But he doesn't have the courage to inform, lest he sound more insane than he already looks.

Oh yeah, he has really bad self esteem. And even worse self perception.

His mom wasn't exactly cruel to him all the time, but she was cruel about giving him the name ryūshi given he literally is one.

Although he isn't a doormat and will fight back, he is afraid to most of the time—not necessarily out of kindness (although he doesn't really want to hurt anyone too badly) but rather fear of being reprimanded for self defense. He can't exactly control how strong he is yet.

But dear God, does he hope he'll be able to soon. 💀

‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵

Okay. Um. I'll probably post a few more parts to this since he's relatively new and I'm still figuring him out but so far I'm loving him! Hope y'all do too, idk. ☠️

[thisworldisablackhole]

SeeYouSpaceCowboy The Romance of Affliction

It was a cold, dark winter evening. My best friend and I were having one of our frequent "get faded and listen to music" sessions. Those hang outs were always the highlight of my week. Crack a cold one, have some deep conversations, and crank some tunes. Lift off, baby. The vibes were good, but when it came time for me to commandeer the Auxiliary Cord SS, I admit I was a little sheepish.

"You got any new shit?"

"Well… sort of… you might not like it though"

"Fuck it dog, put that shit on. You know I'm pretty open minded"

I laughed.

"Alright, we'll see about that"

I think I might have put on "…and My Faded Reflection in Your Eyes", first, but my memory of that night is a little hazy. It doesn't matter though, because what happened next was a complete and enthusiastic unravelling of our former selves as we bonded over a new found mutual love of melodic metalcore. We had been friends for close to 10 years, but up until this point we had reserved our musical exchanges for mostly palatable cool guy bands who hid their emotional urgency under a veil of artful stoicism. Perhaps this was done out of shame, because wearing your heart on your sleeve is generally discouraged in the culture of adulthood. It felt like a risk to open up and share the side of me that still loves an arguably juvenile mode of expression, but the reward for doing so was unbridled joy and connection.

SeeYouSpaceCowboy said fuck shame, fuck stoicism, fuck acting cool. We're gonna scream, we're gonna sing, and we're gonna feel something. The Romance of Affliction is scenecore for the modern age, and it is completely unapologetic in being so. Taking cues from bands like Drop Dead Gorgeous, The Blood Brothers, Botch, and Underoath, SYSC created a special blend of sounds that is equal parts chaotic, violent, and sweet as sweet tea on a hot southern day. Sugar, spice, everything nice, and a metric fuck tonne of Chemical X. Excuse my language.

One of the first things to really draw me into this album was the vocals. This album has a major case of split personality disorder, and I mean that in the best way possible. Vocalist Connie Sgarbossa bounces between larynx shredding highs, lows, and sasscore yelps while guitarist Ethan Sgarbossa and bassist Taylor Allen also chime in with mid ranged roars and lovesick cleans. It's enough to induce a psychotic episode, or at the very least give listeners with ADHD enough variance in frequency and delivery to keep them stimulated. The vocal patterns are impressively synchronized, and you can tell that a lot of thought goes into this aspect of their music. It's something I wish more bands would take note of, but maybe that's just my addled attention span speaking. There are some pretty cool, albeit head turning features on this album as well. Shaolin G's rap verse on "Sharpen What You Can" in particular has been polarizing, but ends up being one of the more impactful and (frankly) punk rock moments on the album as he comes in with a strong message of self affirmation and being true to yourself in the face of adversity.

The instrumentals don't hold back either, and come well equipped with their own hyper aggressive inability to sit still. Razor sharp panic chords and time signature switch ups dance their way toward atmospheric passages before plummeting back down to earth with classic single note breakdowns. Almost every song comes packaged with a hookworm chorus or dreamy melodic bit to offer respite from the teeth clenching madness and draw you back in for repeated listens. A good hook is one that makes you really appreciate everything leading up to and preceding it, and thankfully the band delivers on this every time. SYSC doesn't just rely on a catchy chorus to sell a mediocre song. They aren't afraid to show their full hand of influences either, as they ambitiously swing between three or four different niche subgenres in rapid motion. It might sound like a recipe for disaster, but it comes across as more meticulous than random, and the result is a surprisingly smooth and cohesive experience. 13 songs and 40 minutes goes by with a flash, and not once do I feel like the band is testing my patience.

The Romance of Affliction is a time machine that will unlock forgotten pieces of your heart, but it's also a vessel of progression for a subgenre that not many are brave enough to claim in today's landscape of serious mature stoicism. SeeYouSpaceCowboy have managed to breathe fresh life into old tricks in a way that only the most studious of scene disciples could pull off, and I can't wait to see them continue to flourish and expand their palette of influences in the years to come.

[thygoddessouijathicc]

Compiling and analyzing Dave’s reptilian qualities

Ok so I have done a lot of analysis on DSAF Dave. Like more than I probably should have given that part of his appeal is that we don’t know what the fuck this man is. As you probably know my leading theory is that he’s some kind of alien.

But let’s cast the theories relating to what Dave actually is aside for a moment, and focus more on what Dave is very heavily implied to look like.

Yes, we do get art of how he looks in the game, and that is where I am getting a lot of my evidence for what he might realistically look like, however since these depictions are drawings, all semi, but not completely realistic, some missing important details that we do know.

Dave is most comparable to a combination between a lizard and a human, more along the lines of being just a humanoid lizard rather than a fusion. I guess lizard people don’t run the government, they just work at shitty pizza places.

Now Dave being not human is one of the few things we know for sure, not only is it pretty clear that just simply deformities, even in a fictional setting, probably can’t make a person look, and function the way Dave does. Not only that but Doggo himself has stated Dave to be a Cryptid, which is not a species, rather in this context I think just means he’s an inhuman humanoid who just kind or coexists.

Now that we’ve got the not being human out of the way, let’s talk about what a hyperrealistic rendition of Dave Miller would look like, in reference to him being reptilian, comparing his physical traits to one’s that exist in the real world to paint a picture of how he’d look.

First things first, general body shape. We know from a lot of art and his sprites that Dave is rather slim, in fact, most of the cloths he wears seem to give off the impression of being too big, or at least too wide. This, alongside his coiled neck has made me see Dave as being particularly snakelike, and in fact, I think that his neck would look like the body of a snake. As for his head, while I don’t recall ever seeing it from the side, from the front it’s very humanlike, although it may be more reptilian from a side view, we just don’t know that, however I find it likely it simply is very humanlike.

As for facial features, this is where it gets more snakelike. Dave does not have visible ears (he likely has ear holes on the sides of his head), he does not have a visible nose (it could be a very narrow snakelike one), and weirdly, he doesn’t show his teeth often, but we do know Dave probably has teeth because there is one image of him in the tapes in which he had human teeth, so Dave does have human teeth. Dave’s face is also visibly wrinkled.

To get into a detail I have not yet talked about, his hands. Dave’s hands are very interesting as they are probably the part of him the most similar to a real animal that isn’t a human. Dave has long fingers, and no visible fingernails, which is important because all primates have fingernails, unlike most other species which tend to have either talons, claws, or neither. On top of not having visible fingernails his fingers also come to a sharp point.

These strange hands have an almost exactly matching real world counterpart.

The hands of a marine iguana. Of course Dave’s fingers are longer and the composition is more humanlike, but it’s not a stretch that something with hands like the marine iguana could evolve to have hands like Dave’s.

Now, the point I’ve been sort of dancing around. Dave is purple. He also has purple blood, which is not seen in reptiles but does exist, although that’s not relevant right now because his blood has absolutely nothing to do with his pigment. Dave says ingame that he has a “scaly hyde”, I believe sometime during the good route of the third game. Dave is purple because his scales are purple. Scales are a thing seen on no actual depictions of Dave, but he definitely does have them, it’s something that’s always peeved me because he’s never drawn with arguably one of his key inhuman traits. This also means that Dave probably canonically CANT grow hair due to a lack of follicles. Now the size and shape of Dave’s scales is not known but I do believe they are probably relatively small and flat to his body. Also as a side note, I take Dave’s multiple shades on his body as canon under the belief that Dave has multiple shades of purple scales.

Now, why is he purple. This question actually matters quite a lot. There are 3 possible answers. The first is camouflage, unlikely and in fact impossible unless he comes from a place in which purple is a common pigment. The second is sexual selection, specifically akin to that of the peacock, the bright colour of the male peacock is due to the females of the species finding that trait desirable for the exact reason that it’s not, since the bright colours make it easier to be spotted by predators only the strongest survive, the brighter the pigment the stronger the bird would have to be, and thus to survive with this bright pigmentation means the peacock is genetically better as a mate than ones with duller pigments because in a counterintuitive way it actually means the offspring will have more overall fitness, Dave being bright purple could be a similar strange evolutionary path. The final reason Dave could be purple is that it could potentially be a warning sign, it’s common in nature to not want to be seen so having a bright, rare pigment is never ideal, unless you WANT to be noticed as part of a survival strategy, in order to encourage larger predators to avoid eating them many animals develop not only poison or venom, but a bright colour as well, it’s less common with venom because venom is less defensive more offensive, but reptiles are rarely actually poisonous and far more likely to just have a deadly bite, and that’s not to say none employ this warning sign, I’m not saying Dave is venomous but I’m also not saying he isn’t.

This is all the reptile Dave evidence I have thus far although I may find more. Now you are all ready to invision what a realistic rendition of DSAF’s Dave Miller would look like.

[brodudemanbroski]

HELL YEAH DIFFERENT LOOKS WITH THE FOREIGN KIDS THAT’S WHY I DRAW PIP WITH HIS BURN SCARS & A TOOTH GAP IT MAKES THEM FEEL MORE REAL

YEAHHHH!!! I DRAW PIP WITH A TOOTH GAP TOO. now, since you mentioned differences once. I shall ramble.

Pip: For differences in teeth, I draw his canine teeth and he has a gap in between his two front teeth. He has never gone to a dentist, not even with the adoptive family I gave him. Small fun fact for you. Idk it’s fun. His differences in appearance: He has small bits of acne under his bangs, he has freckles along his face and body, and I’ve started to consider burns but I keep forgetting, sadly. I forget freckles a lot too, but SHHHH.

Damien: I have many MANY different kinds of teeth styles for him. Some with all sharp teeth, some with proper fangs, but they all involve braces. Because he would just loveeee braces (he hates them), he tries to break the brackets thinking it’ll make them go away faster, but that will only make them stay longer. His dentist hates him so much as he is rude and has tried to bite them. Appearance: His fingertips have faded ashy look, not burnt, they are just.. ash, because of his fire powers. He used to clean them but got too lazy. He doesn’t have any differences other than proper animal features, I like to think he has a goat tail when he gets older and has horns that he hides in his hair but that’s mainly it. Bags under his eyes, though born with it.

Gregory: He has had braces, which if is brought up he will have a full blown fit. He is a mint heavy guy, he has actually forced Christophe to have some of these mints, I will sometimes drawn his canine but that is rarely. Appearance: I don’t draw him with freckles (i forget), but I have mentioned that he has had freckles in roleplays! Only on his face. Gregory has small scars on his hands from past fights and injuries, he is prideful of them because he knows they tell a story without words.

Christophe: I.. love… his differences. I always love to draw his teeth. They are chipped, missing, and stained. I draw his canine as well, I believe they are sharper than average ones. His teeth are chipped from getting injured so often and getting rocks in the face while digging through holes. He has been forcibly made to brush his teeth countless times by his mother and Gregory. He hates the dentist so much that they have to hold him down and hold his mouth open or else he bites and tries to attack. Appearance: I haven’t drawn him with scars yet but he would have many from when he came back from being attacked and killed by the guard dogs. He would also have scars from other injuries, as I HC that everyday is a new injury, big or small. Christophe has a mole by his eye, haha im hilarious.. i added that feature and then remembered he is “The Mole” so. He also has acne from being so unclean, I like to believe that he forgets hygiene exists so he is often greasy and dirty, which causes the acne to show up. Bags under his eyes AND CHAPPED LIPS. HE GOES THROUGH IT.

Pocket: I haven’t discussed him much for appearance yet as at the time of making the teeth guide, I wasn’t much of a Pocket and Estella fan.. now look at me. I love them. He has his buck teeth ofc ofc, how would we ever forget that. I feel like his teeth are straight and pretty alright, and he uses his toothbrush way too hard. He probably brushes his teeth after every big meal and FLOSSES. Like a mad man. I like to think he has one chipped tooth from one random moment and that’s it. Appearance: Freckles dude, we love them. Freckles. He probably has small spots of acne as well, nothing that extreme.

Estella: She would have the straightest whitest teeth, perfect in every way and she would make sure of it. She brushes constantly and makes sure everything is spotless. I draw her canine teeth as well. Estella uses that expensive charcoal tooth paste or whatever that claims is better, but is probably the worst. Appearance: Again, she has no acne, no freckles, no scars. She doesn’t even have a bruise. Estella has a skincare routine, she has no freckles or scars. But has a birthmark on her ankle, but never shows it. She dislikes it as she feels it’s a wound on her perfect skin.

Rebecca: She has a gap between her teeth, which later on she gets braces so her teeth are perfect. She brushes a lot and flosses. I don’t draw her canine teeth all the time. Rebecca would grind her teeth at minute due to stress and worry, which ruins her teeth a great amount. Definitely a dentist’s favourite. Appearance: She has freckles, YES I FORGET I GET IT, on her face and body. She has acne around the sides of her face and on her nose, which she tries her best to hide and get rid of but nothing works. I like to think she also has sensitive skin, having to use special soap. She would have bags under her eyes,

Mark: He had/has braces and wears a retainer later on, not the invisible one. He got braces because of how many gaps he had between his teeth, his parents wanted his teeth to be perfect instead of gappy. He also takes good care of his teeth, similar to his sister. I don’t draw his canine teeth, so sad. Another dentist’s favourite. Appearance: I haven’t thought much on this, he probably has acne on his nose and chin, which he tries to clean and get rid of. He would have chapped lips as he dislikes the feeling of chapstick on his lips and feel bad about it. Mark would have bags under his eyes, like his sister. He has small scaring around his nails from picking at them out of nervousness and habit. He would also have sensitive skin and allergies that makes him have to have special soap.

(somewhat outdated tooth guide for foreign kids. “Fang” means canine teeth in photos, there are a LOT more on that page but I stuck with our lovely little foreign kids.)

There wasn’t any Rebecca and Mark on the original sheet because I hadn’t remembered they existed yet sooo.