#also ink you look very majestic ^-^

[jinxneedssleep]

I rock those eyes.

Tagging: @stellarcat52 @spookycryptidboo @ghxstingimgaytoo @teslapenguini @markdatter @apricityxs @anyone that wants to join

ANOTHER wervty picrew???? I’m fucking fed /pos

anyone who sees this can do it if they want to, i’d like to see y’all’s!!

[schoenht]

↳ dust of the stars in their eyes

character: lilia vanrouge

synopsis: cinderella au (the musical version)

a/n: TO MY BELOVEDEST @linabirb I HAVE FINISHED PART ONE OF YOUR LATE BDAY PRESENT </3 ILY LOTS AND I HOPE YOU ENJOY !!! I'LL BE WRITING PART TWO VERY SOON I'VE BEEN SUPER EXCITED TO WRITE THIS SINCE I'VE BEEN OVER THERE

No one truly understood the woes of being the prince with pressures of becoming the next king. All the kingly duties and having to uphold the kingly stature when Lilia Vanrouge only wanted to slide across halls in his socks with his advisors, who joined a lot of the time. The loss of himself when he thought too much about who he was. On the surface, he was the prince, but deep down? He couldn't fathom understanding himself past the fun times that he granted himself. Slaying dragons, sliding across the halls, that was what created a life supposedly worth living for him.

Today, however, did not follow the usual exciting schedule.

Kalim walked in with a scroll in his hand. "Your Majesticness, we have to fulfill your father's wishes!"

Lilia smiled, an elfish grin that made him look so innocent when it was not-so-secretly full of mischief. "Which wish? The one where you and Cater dangle me from the ceiling as we pretend to be thieves taking the crown?"

The white haired male knew exactly what he was talking about. Their plans were jubilant, if not occasionally lethal at times. But Lilia seemed to always get back up after falling from several feet high. After all, he was a fae and fae were known for their antics. Kalim shook his head, unfurling a ridiculously long scroll that only said a few words in bright green ink and outrageously enormous letters. "Lilia, get married NOW."

What a bunch of poppycock, Lilia thought. His father had always been protective of him since he was young, and somehow, he had also been trying to set him up with several princesses. The princess he used to be betrothed to when he was a small fae had escaped when she was just 10, deciding to be raised by nuns. He was stunned to find out that when he was born, he was already engaged for some sort of power. Afterwards, his father believed he could court someone on his own.

He could not.

Kalim scrambled to pick the long scroll up and made it into a pile as he glanced at the prince. "My lord? You must find someone."

The prince knew it was time. "What do you suggest?"

"I have an idea~!" The singsong voice of his other advisor came through the halls as he took a singular selfie of himself and made his phone disappear into his pocket. Lord Cater, who was somehow the wisest one amongst the three of them when it came to a situation such as this one, had one of those signature Cater beams, the ones that could relax anyone because he had a plan.

Curious, Lilia slightly leaned forward. "What is your idea?"

"We host a ball! And if you meet the person you like there, we did it, you can get married!"

"That seems a bit unorthodox--"

Cater didn't want to hear it and refused to. "Just think about it, Your Gracefulness, a romantic night sky, candles...maybe even some flames."

"Flames?"

"Of love, of course! Not pyrotechnics." Cater glanced at Kalim, shaking his head. "That means no fireworks, Kalim."

"Awww."

Lilia tilted his head a little. Perhaps it was a good idea to receive guests into his castle, to see who could potentially be the next person at his side to hold a crown on their head. It did not have to be something so overly dramatic as Cater was implying, yet Lilia liked to have that dramatic flair. And a ball was as dramatic one can get. Not to mention, it would slowly quell the murmurs of an uprising advocated by the impoverished individuals in his kingdom. He would feed them and ensure that they got a pleasant night. And so, he agreed.

With his permission, Cater was sent to the kingdom to make an announcement. The day was blistering hot, and yet the town was bustling. He could see people hurrying to get the best purchases in the market; children laughing as they kicked a bright green ball around on the gray cobblestones; couples occasionally stopping at the old and unstable fountain in the middle of the square to share the toss of a coin, hushed wishes made about their relationship lasting until the finality of time; vendors shouting at the top of their lungs their best offers on their wares, hoping to outdo their fellow sellers and perhaps obtain a bit more money this time around.

A flash of excitement came over him and he slowly rose on a barrel full of old clothes, according to the label. The bell in his hand commanded for attention from the people and sure enough, the eyes of the public were on him. "The prince is giving a ball! The prince is giving a ball! Hear ye, hear ye, a ball and that's not all! His Royal Highness, Lilia Vanrouge, is giving a ball!"

The repetition of his words quickly got the attention of several individuals, murmuring and as if Cater was a magnet, they were drawn to him to listen further. "He's giving a ball?" "Impossible, the prince has never given a ball in his lifetime." "Oh, shut it, I want to hear!" "I can't see!"

The ginger grinned, knowing he had the attention of more people and as a crowd formed, he knew he had one shot at this. For Lilia and above all, for his paycheck. And his friendship with Lilia, of course. Clearing his throat, he spoke with regality as he brought out shiny, crisp cream envelopes with the famous wax seal on it. Everyone knew it was the royal seal. "His Royal Highness, Lilia Vanrouge, has this decree: To attend the ball, all one requires is an invitation and suitably fashionable attire, and the prince will choose someone from the ball to be his future partner. That means anyone can be the next royal."

In the crowd, swallowed up by other excited people, you listened with intent, eyes filled with a wistfulness to be able to join such a celebration with high stakes. Living in your position was not easy and perhaps, with luck, you could be the one chosen for the place at Prince Lilia's side. Your thoughts been filled with wishes and wants that had replaced your previous ones. Now there was one that was at the center of it all: you wished you were one of the lucky people with an invitation to the ball.

The crowd dispersed and it left you alone in the square as the vendors packed up to go home after a long day of work. You sat on the fountain, careful not to sit in the one crack that made it more unstable, daydreaming about what it would be like to be in the royal palace. You sigh softly as you talk out loud, dreaming up scenarios of what would happen. But you know it wouldn't and your voice trails off.

Out of nowhere comes the old man that listens to you speak all the time, speaking his gibberish. "All the wishes in the world are poppycock and twaddle!"

"Oh, Crazy Sam, are you mocking me with your gibberish?"

"Yes. All the dreamers in the world are dizzy in the noodle!" The man grinned, his magenta eyes hiding a secret as he listens to your wish about wanting to see the prince in person, to talk to him about what life in his kingdom was really like. With a hum, he teases, "And then to have him fall in love with you?"

You shake your head. No. You didn't want that for you, you wanted the prince to realize that his kingdom was a place that needed to be fixed as efficiently as possible. "Why did you come to visit me?"

"I just knew I would find in the same fountain, in the same part, on the cliff of a foolish dream."

For once, Crazy Sam wasn't crazy. He was right and you agreed begrudgingly. "Maybe I am being foolish."

"Then be foolish with me. What would you dream of?" His smile was reminiscent to that of someone who was the messenger for a surprise party. When he heard your dream of getting an invitation to the ball, he pulled out a cream colored envelope. It was a bit ripped from being run over in the stampede of the crowd as they left. "Here. There's an invitation. It isn't perfect, just go. What else would you dream of?"

Your heart lifted in hope as you spoke about silks and such for your outfit that you so desired for. But then you got realistic. "How would I get to the ball?"

He smiled. "See that pumpkin over there? I'll turn it into a golden carriage."

"And horses?"

"Those mice in that cage." He nodded at the mice trapped in a cage, almost a metaphor for your life was. "And a fox as a footman and a raccoon as a driver."

You could almost burst out laughing. This was so ridiculous and improbable. "In order to do that, you'd have to be a fairy godmother. Or godfather."

Crazy Sam raised an eyebrow and suddenly it felt as if the energy shifted between you both. In the same way a magical girl transformation would happen, it seemed like Sam glowed for a second and he changed from an old man with a hunched back to a man with a top hat that could stand up straight and dance. He had a cane in his hand, markings all around him and eyes that no longer hid their mischief and whimsy. Sam had hidden this secret from you all along. He laughed, doing a small turn. "Much better, don't you think?"

Your jaw was on the floor. You had just seen one of your only friends go from an old person into what seemed to be a magical being. "Sam! Are you...really my fairy godfother?"

Sam kept a beam on his face. "But of course! Actually, I'm everyone's fairy godfather, but you're the only one who has treated me with kindness and generosity. Now, I must make all the dreams we talked about come true."

"But that's so improbable, implausible! You could even say that it's impossible!"

With a regal huff, Sam shook his head, spinning his cane in his hand as he led you away from the town square into the edge of the woods. "Impossible? For a pumpkin to become a carriage? Four white mice becoming horses! Ha! The world is full of fools, who believe too much in their strict, invulnerable rules. Impossible things keep happening every day."

Truly, your eyes were deceiving you. You stared at Sam, thinking that he was out of his mind completely. "That's out of the question!"

"Is it?"

You nodded your head, your hands moving in front of you as if trying to emphasize your point. "Unattainable."

"Hmm, do you believe that?"

"Unimaginable..."

"Unimaginable..." Sam grinned as he parroted what you said.

You sputtered, "But you were just a beggar man a couple of moments ago and now you're my fairy godfather? Does that mean that anything is obtainable?"

"Of course." The man listened to you as you spoke, elated at the fact that maybe, just maybe, he could fix everything. He could fix all that caused you troubles. "No, but you can. You can make it all happen."

"I couldn't!" At your words, Sam mocked you a bit, "I couldn't, it's all so impossible--No, it isn't. Look at me, look at your invitation. I'll even give you proof."

His cane glowed as transformations began, suitable for that of a princess. The silliness of earlier became a reality as your dreams seemed to be closer and closer in your grasp. The pumpkin became a gorgeous white carriage, made out of a material that seemed to be made out of porcelain. It was ornate, decorated with gold linings and shining jewels on the swirling wheels. Under the sunset, it shimmered in the dazzling lotus pinks and poppy oranges of the sky.

Next were the raccoon and fox. They turned into grown men, with no idea as to how they could only walk on their hind feet and had fingers with actual human skin. They slowly stumbled to their positions by the carriage as commanded by the person who made them into something else. Another tap of the floor by Sam's cane and out popped the mice into horses, snuffling at the floor.

Finally, he turned to you. He caused you to float and spin and soon, you were transformed into the most gorgeous attire that you could ever even think of wearing. A gasp fell from your lips. "It's the most beautiful outfit I've ever seen in the land!"

He smiled not unkindly. "I will have to warn you, however, this spell only lasts until midnight. By that time, everything will go back to its normal state of being and so will you. Now go, go with the promise of possibility!"

With your heart beating faster and faster at the prospect of going to the ball that seemed as though any laws abiding by the fabric of the universe could now be ripped to shreds, your carriage raced through the night. The world seemed to hold its breath, as if waiting for you to finally step out and complete the puzzle of the idyllic night that was to come. Perhaps it was the joy of the moment that made you forget the midnight rule for now. After all, the plush fabric beneath you was more luxurious than any material belonging to your household. It was a dream that one would never wish to wake up from.

Arriving at the palace, it seemed as though you had stepped into another universe entirely. The palace was looming over you with its bright white ivory walls, shiny glass windows that prohibited a speck of dust to even land on it, perfectly polished doors with guards in armor, checking every guest for invitations as they walked in. Your carriage pulled itself aside, allowing you to step down from it. As the last person to arrive, it would be quite difficult to not notice you.

And that is exactly what happened to Lilia when he merely glimpsed at you, only to do a double take. In all his years of living, he had never seen a star up close, and yet here you were, dazzling without even attempting. It was a bit cute to him to see that you were standoffish, perhaps a bit shy. He made a choice to introduce himself as he walked over, bowing. "Good evening. I am Prince Lilia. How do you do?"

You couldn't believe your ears. The prince himself had walked over to you, even though you were late and completely alone. You also bowed as you introduced yourself to him. You studied him for a second and you saw that for a prince, he did not appear like one. Black hair with pink highlights in an asymmetrical haircut with tiny wisps on the sides of his head, reminding you of bat wings. Those red eyes full of roguery and the smile that showed who he was beyond being a prince.

"May I have this dance?" Lilia asked as a new soft ballad was being played in the background.

Taking his extended hand, you began to dance with him. It was awkward at first since you were not a professional in ballroom dancing and it was not something that was taught to you in your household. Waltzing through the ballroom quietly, but it was somehow a comfortable silence as you swayed back and forth with him. He didn't mind when you stepped on his shoes at all, he was fond of your inexperience. Oh, the thrill of possibly finding someone that he would adore, that made him refuse to come down to Earth again.

The waltz transformed into something slightly more upbeat, involving everyone. You did not know any of this synchronized dancing, only following through the motions. It was certainly overwhelming. Lilia saw that and he swiftly weaved through the other dancers to get to you, taking you away from everyone else. You may be in the center, but no one else would lay a hand on you as long as the prince decided that he would dance with you and you alone. The melody began to slow down slightly and began once again.

Time seemed to move slowly with him before you were matching the pace of the upbeat melody. It was quickening with every note until it reached its crescendo and suddenly it felt like you were floating. You were floating when you looked down at the floor. Lilia winked a bit. "I decided to switch it up this time instead of me floating."

He twirled with you around the room, everyone else enjoying their similar dances with their own partners as the music blared loudly from the area where the musicians remained. It began to quiet down before rising up again in its notes. As Lilia stared at you, he only thought that angels had to be real, for they lived in your eyes. He shook his head, getting that out of his head and smiling once more at you. "I would love to continue dancing with you, if you'd allow it."

"Oh, I would love to--"

Suddenly, everything snapped to reality as you took a brief look at the massive clock behind him. With a gasp, you realized it was late. You needed to go. "I am so sorry, but I have to go."

His surprise made you land on the floor as you ran through the crowd, a good amount of them a bit outraged and peeved at this inconvenience. "Wait! Please!"

You didn't listen. You made it up the stairs, breathing heavily and then moved to run downstairs. Your shoe fell from you but you ignored it. It was 3 minutes to midnight. If you didn't race out of there, everyone would find out who you were, especially your stepmother. It would not be a pretty sight to see.

As you hurried and pushed past Lilia's cries for you to stop in your tracks, the footman opened the door instantly and when you dove in, the carriage was off. What once seemed like a smooth ride on the way to the castle only seemed like a bumpy, hectic ride back home.

Meanwhile, Lilia was at the top of the stairs, watching you go. "How will I find you?!"

Then, there was the answer: the shoe.

He stared down at it and back up at the sky. The stars seemed to dim without you serving as their foreground.

The prince moved inside to his office, where Kalim and Cater were. "We need to find this person, immediately!"

They looked at each other before Cater spoke up, "Sir, that is a shoe."

"It will guide me to them!"

Kalim tilted his head but believed it. "Okay. Well, we can hold a banquet next!"

Lilia's eyes went wide. "Yes. Yes! That is what we will do tomorrow night. I will find them as soon as possible and we will do what my father said so that he can stop spinning in his grave. I am positive he has burrowed his way halfway to the inner core of the planet."

With a plan in mind, he knew what he would have to do next. He wouldn't stop until he found a satisfying ending. And it helped that Kalim and Cater were most definitely encouraging his delusions of grandeur, even if they were not delusions to him. They would become a reality.

[tfp-is-my-lifeblood-lol]

How would the bots and cons handwriting be like? (Sorry for my bad English lol)

Ahhh! I love this idea! Had WAY too much fun with this.

Bots and Cons Handwriting

Optimus:

-Can write insanely neatly, and in literally ANY font

-Everything he writes looks like it came straight from Google Docs

-He can perfectly recreate Comic Sans, much to the children's amusement

-Handwriting KING

-He's too powerful

Arcee:

-Her handwriting is gorgeous

-She writes very neatly, definitely in cursive

-Everything she writes looks like a diary from the Victorian era

-Majestic✨✨✨✨

Ratchet:

-Cursive, but MESSY cursive

-Like, REALLY messy cursive. What is he even writing? Who knows? It's a mystery.

-You know, cuz, like, that's how a pharmacist's prescriptions look, and he's a medic. Lol

-Ratchet has messy pharmacist handwriting

Bumblebee:

-His handwriting is so cute😭

-Basically Comic Sans

-Not PERFECT Comic Sans like Optimus, but just bubbly and adorable

-Having legible handwriting is something he practices a lot, since his voice box is broken. Writing is a nice way to express himself if need be.

-He has kindergarten teacher handwriting

-My dyslexia would be so happy

Smokescreen:

-Neat enough handwriting, but HE WRITES SO BIG

-All caps, all the time

-He goes through too many notebooks, because he saves NO space

-Poor guy. He just has a big personality

Bulkhead:

-Unreadable

-His hands are just way too big

-Very messy. Only Wheeljack can read it because he and Bulkhead share the same braincells

-Bulkhead and Ratchet get in arguments, because Ratchet's reads Bulk's handwriting, and is like: "Bulkhead, your attempts at penmanship are downright INCOMPREHENSIBLE."

And Bulkhead's like: "You say that like any of us can read yours!"

And Arcee's like: "I second that."

And Bumblebee buzzes in agreement.

Ratchet just rolls his eyes, like "ugh." Because he can't argue. HIS handwriting is gibberish, too.

Ultra Magnus:

-Opposite of Smokescreen...Ultra Magnus's handwriting is TINY!

-Seriously, where is it? You need a microscope.

-Only the humans can read it, because it's so small. And even THEY have to squint

-It's also PERFECT. His handwriting is very neat

and blocky, like a typewriter

-If only we could actually see it

Wheeljack:

-He's like, a graphic design CHAMPION

-He learned handwriting from Miko, so he loves big bubble letters. He decorates them with cool patterns, like flames, and lightning bolts

-Very stylish

Megatron:

-What I can only describe as "spooky cursive"

-Very formal, and kinda gothic

-He'd use some kind of calligraphy pen with very dark, splattery ink, or, like, whatever the Cybertronian version of a quill is.

-He's an elegant guy...well, sort of, except most of what he writes consists of:

"My dearest Starscream,

It is with great regret (note my sarcasm, Starscream.) It is with great PLEASURE that I must inform you...

I have caught you invading my stash of dark energon, once again.

I will be grinding you into scrap metal momentarily.

Yours truly,

Lord Megatron."

Starscream:

-Starscream has the ABILITY to write neatly, and in cursive

-But he writes very scribbly, because he's angry

-If "ranting" was a font, it's the font he writes in

-Also, he probably keeps a rage journal, where he trash talks everyone he knows

-Somebody help him🥲

Soundwave:

-Handwriting? What's that?

-He probably uses his internal computer to make documents, and prints them

-And when he prints things, they probably slide out of his neck. Terrifying. So he prints things to freak Starscream out

-It's beautiful

-If Soundwave was FORCED to handwrite, he'd do it in computer code, or morse code, or something weird like that. Everyone would be baffled trying to understand it.

Airachnid:

-Very splattery

-But that's what happens when you use energon and human blood as ink.

Shockwave:

-Writes in calculator font

-Like, the font a calculator has

-He says it's "the most logical font"

-Starscream constantly judges him for it

Breakdown:

-Definitely not neat, but not Bulkhead levels of messy, either

-He doesn't have the best handwriting, but he can make some pretty good doodles

-If, for some reason, Megatron assigned Breakdown and Knockout a task involving handwriting, Breakdown and Knockout would both doodle instead of being productive

Knockout:

-Ooo! So majestic!

-It's very bold

-His handwriting is suave and announcer-y, just like him

-It'd also be curved slightly to the right, like italics

-Almost like something you'd see in a commercial, or a movie trailer, or a billboard

-Like a NASCAR advertisement (y'know, because race car)

[paintedkinzy-88]

Totally random but I thought I'd share this! I've actually made my own AU with the Apple Twins being dragons! Hilariously it's a silly little crossover with Minecraft, where everyone is a different mob!

Anyway Nightmare is obviously an ender dragon but I kind of ran away with things and made up an entirely new Overworld dragon for Dream! (Also for the sake of more dragons there's a Nether variant as well.)

And even better: Ink is something infected by sculk turning INTO a dragon! (Slowly.)

Also Error and his brothers are withers (slightly different from the norm) because Yes.

I just thought you'd like to see my not quite but also yes dragon balance AU!

(You don't have to answer if you don't want to, just thought it'd be fun to share!)

Hi yes I love minecraft again rn, watching a bunch more videos in the background while drawing and the such, so you caught me at such a good time bro, my interest is PEAKED.

The idea of all the realms having a dragon boss is absolutely killer I am shaking you so much right now.

Dream looks absolutely majestic, and the idea of Ink turning into a skulk based dragon I am in LOVE. Those wings are to DIE FOR. A skulk based dragon just in general is cool af ngfl. And the way I immediately knew Nightmare was the Ender dragon of this scenario LMFAO. Are the boys Endermen??? Or at least one of them?? Though I could also see them as zombies too.

(Coming back after finishing this to hit my dumbass for forgetting there’s LITERALLY skeletons IN minecraft. And wither skellies too fhwifbjw)

Error makes a perfect wither btw. And when you say all of them are withers, do. Do you mean separate entities. Three different withers. Or are they each a head of one wither. Cuz I am DYING at the idea of Error, Geno, and Fresh being a three headed being constantly arguing with each other SOBBING.

Also hydra opportunity, just saying—

ANYWAY yes I love this thank you very much. This is a very fun AU and I’m giggling to myself imagining the possibilities.

[bloomblanche]

Cirralings

(Splatoon fan species)

Aka: I overanalyzed Raian's design and ended up making a whole species of cirrate octopuses (otherwise known as dumbo octopuses) over it.

(The cover is an edited version of the official White Day 2020 illustration, if anyone's wondering.)

(Also, I'm going to use a lot of synonyms for "cirrate octopus", so here's a little list of what they all mean)

Cirrate octopus: octopus in the suborder "Cirrina" or "Cirrata"

Dumbo octopus: finned octopus (note: every cirrate octopus has fins, so they all classify as dumbos)

Flapjack octopus and Umbrella octopus: octopus from the family "Opisthoteuthidae"

Now, without further ado...

Introduction

I love dumbo octopuses. Who doesn't? With their little ear-fins flapping around as they float majestically through the deep sea, it's hard not to like them. And their rarity only makes them more mysterious and interesting. If they ever were to add a dumbo octopus character in Splatoon, the whole fandom would go crazy for sure. It's a wonder how absent they are from the franchise.

...or are they?

(cue vsauce music)

If you're in the splatband fandom, you probably know who this is. This is Raian (or Orion in the English localization) from the band Chirpy Chips! This creature has been mercilessly occupying my brain for, uh... almost a year now. Help.

But here's the most interesting part about them: they're a flapjack octopus! That's right, they're canon! And they've been right here since Splatoon 1. But... there's one small problem. They don't look like an Octarian at all. This is possibly explained by the fact that cirrate octopuses don't have ink sacs, and Octolings (like Inklings) are primarily composed of ink. That's where my fan species comes in!

They're mostly a product of me over-analyzing Raian's design and adapting it to my style. But then, I started attaching a lot of lore to them, and... boom. Now I've made an entire species over an obscure Splatoon character from an arguably less obscure in-game band. The brainrot made me do it, and I don't regret it in the slightest.

Here's a remastered collection of everything I've posted about them on other platforms!

Design breakdown

(I wanted to provide a closeup of every single element over the course of the post, but I can't because of Tumblr's picture limit. Don't hesitate to go back to the design sheet above if you need to.)

The eyes

When I first saw Raian, I thought they had pitch-black eyes. Turns out they're probably just closed, but I really liked the idea. Since cirrate octopuses live in the deep sea, they'll probably need to see as much light as possible. The Octarians also have this alien theme going on, as with octopuses in general. And with deep-sea creatures often being described as real-life aliens, I figured that I would take this aspect and go all out with it. I'm aiming for a "cute yet vaguely eerie" vibe, and I think the eyes fit very well with that!

However, I do think they would have coloured eyes. Or even irises! Take the Stauroteuthis genus (picture on the right), for example.

The fins

What's a dumbo octopus without its fins? They're always flapping about, so I loved the idea of having them move based on how they're feeling. Despite not giving them any eyebrows, I would still keep the "eyebrow muscles" for the sake of more dynamic facial expressions (like the ones in the introduction picture).

Their bangs are made out of webbing. As for the "antennas" on some haircuts, they're a modified pair of cirri! With the importance of fins, I figured that Cirralings would enjoy having "ear surrogates" for when their ears are hidden.

(or just because they feel like it)

(or not, it's their choice)

also it's cute

To those who don't know: a cirrus is a small hair-like strand that moves a bit like a mini-tentacle. The suborder "Cirrina" is named after those strands, which they most likely use for feeding.

If we go back to Raian's design, there's a problem: despite being a cirrate octopus, they don't have any visible suckers nor cirri. Will we ever know your secrets, mysterious chiptune flapjack???

...so, I came up with something. If we go back to the reference picture under "Design breakdown," the suckers are on the same side as Inklings and they're covered by their cirri. It's a little unusual, but again, it fits with the vibe I'm trying to create.

The swim form

Since many cirrate octopuses live at the bottom of the ocean, I figured that I should keep them adapted enough to sit on the sea floor like they usually do. Those who live in the open ocean probably look more like a traditional octo form.

One thing's for sure: Opisthoteuthidae certainly don't need much stylization with how cartoony they already look.

The hands

Cirrate octopus have a lot more webbing between their tentacles than incirrate ones. Here's a cool way to translate this: webbed fingers and toes!

I'm sorry for telling you to scroll back again, but I'm very proud of how I drew that hand. Look at it. I'm not forcing you, like- you don't have to do it if you don't want to, but. Look.

The teeth

These are just Octoling teeth but flipped and a little different. I also decided to "fuse" the teeth together to better distinguish them from the Octarians.

My main goal with this species is to show how differently they would evolve compared to their surface-dwelling cousins, all while staying similar to each other. I haven't studied biology since secondary 4 (aka 10th year of American high school), though, so please take this with a miniscule grain of salt.

The mask and neck, as well as any other design choice that I haven't explained, are just some elements of Raian's design that kinda just... exist. That doesn't mean they're useless, though. If anything, it makes them look more "cirrate-like."

On a side note, I thought it would be cool to base them around what they're most famous for: their appearances! Given their reputation as "the octopus suborder that makes scientists so happy that one of its species almost got called 'Opisthoteuthis Adorabilis'", I think they have something to be proud of.

Unorganized tidbits of lore

I wanted to illustrate all of these individually, but I'm pretty busy with university. Also, I'm kinda slow at drawing. In the end, I got too impatient and decided to reveal my most developed ideas right then and there.

Cirratians, like most deep sea species, evolved through many miracles. First, the miracle of coming in contact with the crystals. Second, the miracle of evolving on dry land via caves. Third, the miracle of surviving in the harsh, barren underground.

Because of this, they evolved to be drastically different from their surface-dwelling counterparts. Since they don't have ink sacs, their bodies are mainly composed of water. However, they can still be splatted by getting submerged in dense enough liquids such as brine.

Not every cirrate octopus is a Cirraling, as evidenced by the existence of cirrate Octolings. As the name suggests, the latter are Octolings with cirrate ancestry. They almost always inherit the ink bodies of Octarians, but some are born without ink sacs. There are two types of cirrate Octolings: those whose ancestry dates back to the dawn of evolution (often through interbreeding and assimilation) and those whose ancestry is a result of modern Cirro-Octarian contact. Scientists are still researching this odd, prolonged "contact gap".

Similarly to Octarians, they have their own variants born from severed tentacles. Though, due to their different needs, these ones are non-sapient and take the role of cattle and companions. In ancient times, long tentacles were considered a sign of wealth.

They have a traditional dance characterized by slow movements and light, flowing fabric. Skilled dancers will try to make their costumes flow as much as possible without moving too fast. If they did, it would be considered a waste of energy.

Like many deep sea cultures, one of the most important gods they worship is based on ancient whale falls (illustration by @thap34nut ). This large, skeletal god is a symbol of plenty. It is credited as the origin of marine snow and an essential provider of food to their ancestors. In the afterlife, it will grant eternal satiety to those who died of starvation. Meanwhile, it will punish the greedy with eternal hunger. To honour that god, they have a similar holiday to Squidmas colloquially called "the Deepest Gratitudes." The many bone decorations (which are usually painted rock sculptures) are often the source of culture shock to many uninformed outsiders.

Despite their internal shells, Cirralings are very squishy. This allows them to better withstand their highly pressurized environment. However, this also makes them vulnerable: they are notably more prone to bruising than most inkfish. So, they prioritize diplomacy over conflict.

Their natural charisma is known all over the deep sea, and many young Cirralings move to bigger cities in hopes of breaking through the idol industry. They are often stereotyped as charming and polite at best, or two-faced manipulators at worse.

Despite their reputation, they have a certain "shyness" to them. Indeed, most Cirratian cities and settlements are rather isolated. Their conflict-avoidant culture is most likely a result of the competitive, individualistic atmosphere of early deep sea civilization. Since then, however, the "spirit" of humanity and the survivalism of deep sea life managed to blend together more smoothly. Despite their cold and aloof appearance, these modern civilizations are now characterized by a certain sense of unity.

Cirratian society is noted to have a pretty unique atmosphere, even compared to their surrounding cultures. Despite shrouding themselves in mystery, they are warm and welcoming. Despite living simple lives, their social rules are very strict.

Cirralings are significantly less concerned with imitating humans. Their skin tones are rarely human-like, and while dull, they vary a lot in terms of colours. Their fins and tentacles also play a very important role in expressing emotions, sometimes even more than facial expressions. They have gained minor colour-changing abilities from the crystals, though many of them describe the process as "time-consuming and not very instinctive." They specialize more in bioluminescence.

Their eyes vary much less than other humanoids: they are large and dark to absorb as much light as possible. Some may have smaller or lighter irises, but this is rather uncommon. Cirratians come in all shapes and sizes, but their eyes are their most recognizable aspect.

The Cirratians and the Octarians have an odd relationship. They want to understand each other better, as there's potential for solidarity and brotherhood. However, it's hindered by their inherently different values.

Sometimes, Cirralings sneak to the surface in search of resources. They rarely interact with surface dwellers, as both parties would fear each other in the past. In fact, the "glowing-eyed mimic" or "void-eyed mimic" cryptid originated from various Cirraling sightings.

They often come to the surface through bodies of water. For a variety of reasons, some may even wash up on shore. Those who choose to stay will almost always hide their identity, though they have been revealing themselves more and more as the years went by. The events of Octo Expansion lead to a wave of deep sea creatures who immigrated to the surface in search of new opportunities. By then, almost every Cirraling had stopped hiding their identity.

Thank you for your interest❣️

Here's my favourite flapjack pic, for the soul.

[maareyas]

Hello sensei i request guidance

I have recently been reminded on my packet of ohuhu markers i bought a while back. Funny thing though,

I dont know how to use them (never used markers before let alone the alcohol ones or whatever the ones i got are)

Your use of markers is majestic, if i may ask, can you bestow upon me divine wisdom and show me where to start so i can learn please? Theres a lot of stuff online and its incapacitating me

Thank you for your time O great one!

*strokes fake beard* ah yes. my divine wisdom which i most certainly have and not my haphazard "winging it" XD

in all seriousness I'm really also still pretty new to markers;;;; So I wouldn't say I'm great at them yet ahdhhedjjd. I can only give a few points of advice:

1. Paper - I'd argue this is the most important part bc 70% of the art quality WILL be based on how well your paper takes ink. The papers I use are either Ohuhu's own marker sketchbook or watercolor/mixed media paper (about 200 gsm).

I would recommend the marker paper since it's actually specialized for markers and makes the color pop more. Watercolor paper also works, but it makes the colors look a lil duller. In my experience, it's blending markers on watercolor paper dries slower, which makes it easier to blend smoothly/with less streaks. I heard it also sucks up your marker ink more, but I haven't been using markers long enough to know.

2. Blending - There should be a colorless alcohol-only marker in ur set. You use that for blending (mostly). Lay down the colorless "ink" first, AND THEN draw over it with the colors you want to blend--while the alcohol is still wet ofc.

This is difficult to explain without visuals--but, I also tend to use the lighter/fainter colors as a "blending color" also. Blending colors in the same hue or are analogous is easier. Mostly. Meanwhile I had to fight for my life trying to blend orange with blue or even just a cooler gray without looking muddy.

3. Bleeding - THESE THINGS LOVE TO BLEED FR. On both marker paper and watercolor paper, I always have to compensate for how much the ink bleeds/feathers once it actually touches the paper, especially when you're using brush tip markers. I hate it ✨

Also if Ohuhu includes this plastic? film? thingy with their markers iirc. You put that on the back of the paper you're drawing on to catch any ink that bleeding through the page.

4. swatch your markers - imo markers are WAY more rigid in terms of color and blending. Yet frustatingly, they also can look very different when wet vs. when dry. SO! it helps alot to make swatches of your markers so you can get a consistent idea of what they'll actually look like.

5. Use colored pencils instead of markers for drawing details - After doing the broad colors with marker, I like to go back in with colored pencils to add detail and for some color correction. I can't do details in marker. I'm not powerful enough for that hfhrhehe

6. Ohuhu's marker caps DON'T match the color they are. It's dumb and another reason why you should make swatches fhhdjej

Aside from that I don't think I have much else. The rest of my knowledge comes from watching other artists' tutorials:

in summary: i have no idea what im doing 👍 hope this helps! ✨

[sitepathos]

Their Favorite Creature

A/N: I remembered a comment on my very first post and that became the inspiration for this one.

Price

Phoenix. This man sees them as majestic creatures and can’t help but be in awe at the sight of them.

It takes his breath away when it bursts into flames and is reborn. The first time it happened, he might have gotten a little scared; he was aware of their immorality, but the sight of flames bursting in front of him brings up some unpleasant memories.

But, he gets a little down when the bird is reborn because he wishes many of his fallen compatriots could rise from the flames.

He had a stand specially made for him (using enchanted wood to resist flames) and when he’s filling out paperwork, he looks up and smiles at the bird. He also keeps a box of plants to feed the phoenix.

He loves to use the phoenix to deliver letters/packages to you. It always amazes him to see it deliver mail, no matter how heavy it is.

You managed to pluck a feather from the phoenix and had it turned into a quill enchanted to never run out of ink. He uses it only to write letters to you. He keeps it in a special box in his desk and he takes its security very seriously.

With your help, he bottled some tears from the Phoenix as they possess amazing healing qualities. More often than he cares to remember, those tears that brought back his boys from the brink of death and he’s so thankful to both the Phoenix and you.

Gaz

Puffskein. Hands down, this man will no nuts at the sight of a fuzzy ball.

He also loves the fact that it eats bugs, specifically spiders. I can see Gaz facing down a hail of bullets and not batting an eye, but the sight of a spider will have him jumping in his dad’s Price’s arms. So, he would ask to take the Puffskein home to not only cuddle with, but to eat any bugs that find their way in.

When you told him that a popular game involves throwing Puffskeins around, he was understandably upset. I mean, to him, it was similar to throwing puppies against the wall. But, when you told him their fuzziness protected them from harm, he relaxed and played the game. Eventually, it turned into a regular thing between the two of you. Think of it like ‘Hit The Bottles,’ but with Puffskeins instead of baseballs.

Gaz will absolutely lose his mind if you show up with more Puffskeins. Will absolutely lie down on the ground and let them swarm him. He’s in heaven.

Please get this man a Puffskein plushie for his birthday. Will absolutely sleep with it every night and if it goes missing, will tear the entire base apart in order to find it, waking everyone up in the process. Everyone will pitch in so he’ll calm down and they can go back to bed.

Ghost

Thestrals. Let’s face it, this man will gravitate towards these misunderstood creatures.

When you showed up to the base on a carriage hitched up to four Thestrals and explained why the soldiers could see them while some of the base’s support staff couldn’t, he felt a certain kinship to them.

“Only people who’ve seen death can see them, huh? So, I could’ve seen them all my life.”

He says many self-deprecating jokes about him and them being signs of death, but when you shut that train of thought down and tell him that he’s a better man than he gives himself credit for, he can’t help but smile. “Careful, Merlin. I might start to think you care about me.”

Despite his protests, will absolutely love to ride the carriage you brought with you.

“Ghost, do you want to ride the carriage before I have to take it back?” “Merlin, I’m a hardened dog of war. I’ve taken so many lives that I’ve become death incarnate. My reputation is known to so many terrorists, they have nightmares about me.” “So, is that a no?” “…Yes, I want to ride it.”

Soap

Common Welsh Green. Come on, did you think it would be anything other than a dragon?

The first time he saw one was when you took him to the Romanian Dragon Reserve and to say he was in awe is an understatement. Like, his eyes were as wide as saucers and he was stuck in place as one flew over his head.

Once you told him that they’re native to Scotland, he was giddy as you can get. He wants nothing more than to fly on the back of one while waving the Scottish flag and screaming “Scotland forever!”

Of course, he knows that’s not going to happen since dragons are dangerous creatures. But, say you have a friend who has a friend who has a friend who is capable of making that happen. This man will squeal with joy and once he gets off that dragon’s back, you will have a new best friend. Like, if you ever need anything, let him know and he’ll do whatever it takes to make it happen.

Will devote over a dozen pages of his journal to drawings to this species of dragon. From closeups to full body sketches, this man will flex his artistic muscles and draw pictures that rival the pictures from your Magical Creatures textbook.

You take him back to the reserve on his birthdays so he can see them again, and he falls more in love with these dragons and you every time.

Alejandro

Mooncalf.

The sight of a cute Mooncalf will turn this hardened freedom fighter into a baby-speaking softie. “My brothers, we continue to fight not for ourselves but for this city we love! Long live the Cowboys!” Mooncalf joins the chat. “On my god, it’s the cutest fluff baby I’ve ever seen!”

He tries to never miss every full moon because the sight of seeing them dance is a breathtaking sight. And if you bring more Moon calves to join in the dance, he can’t help but join in. Rudy joins in as well since it’s very rare he sees his brother so lively and carefree.

He does everything he can to not laugh his ass off when the townspeople freak out at the crop circles left behind from the lunar dance.

He’s also been known to allow the Mooncalf to wrap itself around his neck like some sort of scarf. One time, he got so use to the Mooncalf being around his neck that he forgot about it and led an entire debriefing with said Mooncalf still wrapped around his neck. Rudy told the soldiers not to mention it as it was the funniest thing he’d seen in a very long time.

König

Niffler. Yes, this absolute mountain of a man is head over heels with this tiny magical platypus.

It’s love at first sight when he runs into you and sees you carrying a Niffler. “That bill… those feet… Perfektion…”

Begs you to allow him to hold it every chance he gets. Of course, you him that Nifflers are known for stealing anything valuable, but he’s undeterred and relieves you of the kleptomaniac platypus.

Needless to say, chaos ensures. He took his eyes off it for one second and it ran off, stealing anything shiny along the way. Eventually, he was able to capture its and you shook everything out from its fur, including Price’s lighter.

He learned from that unfortunate incident and started keeping a bag full of shiny metallic objects (mostly bullet cases) to satisfy the creature’s cravings.

You offer to show him how to train the Niffler and it turns into a bonding experience for the two of you.

“I had fun teaching the Niffler, maus. Now, it’ll clean up bullet casings on the battlefield.”

[deadcactuswalking]

REVIEWING THE CHARTS: 27/07/2024 (Jimin, JADE, Eminem)

Once again, Sabrina Carpenter is at #1 - it’s the fourth non-consecutive week for “Please Please Please”. Otherwise, it’s a pretty fun, short week - possibly the first of quite a few this Summer - so welcome back to REVIEWING THE CHARTS!

content warning: language, references to disability and bigotry towards wheelchair users

Rundown

As always, we start with the notable dropouts, songs exiting the top 75 - which is what I cover - after five weeks in the region or a peak in the top 40. This week, we bid farewell to not just all the football songs from last week bar “Dancing in the Dark”, all of which I feel like I don’t need to mention because they’re basically seasonal, but also a small selection of “Renaissance” by Eminem, “us.” by Gracie Abrams featuring Taylor Swift and “CHIHIRO” by Billie Eilish. Where the chaos really shows up on this chart, however, is what actually stuck around.

So, occasionally, weeks happen on the UK Singles Chart where songs up above drop out or freefall thanks to their “chart ratio” changing to accelerated, which essentially crunches their real streaming numbers and can lead to the chart having a lot of movement in that week when they all coincidentally fall into this period. However, there’s not exactly an influx of new songs waiting for this to happen, and those bubbling under the top 75 haven’t gotten that much traction, so instead we have a bit of a bizarre week where new songs debut higher than they probably should and we have tons of notable gains and returns. As for the re-entries, this includes “Pick Up the Phone” by PAWSA featuring the late Nate Dogg at #74, “Viva la Vida” by Coldplay at #73, “Addicted” by Zerb, The Chainsmokers and Ink at #70, “Ain’t No Love in Oklahoma” by Luke Combs at #68, “places to be” by Fred again.., Anderson .Paak and CHIKA at #54 and “the boy is mine” by Ariana Grande at #53. On the other hand, there are tons of boosts for a mixed bag that includes “Alibi” by Sevdaliza, Pabllo Vittar and Yseult at #60, “I Love You, I’m Sorry” by Gracie Abrams at #58, “You & Me” by Disclosure featuring Eliza Doolittle at #57, “6 in the Morning” by Flex featuring the late Nate Dogg at #56, “Miles on It” by Kane Brown and Marshmello at #55, “Evergreen” by Richy Mitch & the Coal Miners at #52, “These Words” by Badger and Natasha Bedingfield at #51, “Pink Skies” by Zach Bryan at #43, “Set My Heart on Fire” by Majestic, The Jammin Kid and Céline Dion at #40, “Red Wine Supernova” by Chappell Roan at #39, “Birds ij the Sky” by NewEra at #35, “misses” by Dominic Fike at #34, “Move” by Adam Port, Stryv and Malachiii at #25, “Happier” by The Blessed Madonna featuring Clementine Douglas at #24, “Red Wine Supernova” and “HOT TO GO!” by Chappell Roan at #39 and #19, “Apple”and “360” by Charli xcx at #23 and #18, and finally, “Kisses” by BL3SS and CamrinWatson featuring bbyclose at #13. Phew.

The top five should look somewhat refreshed thanks to some ACR hits and some relatively newer hits rolling in. Firstly, we have Myles Smith at #5 with “Stargazing”, but a much more obviously new track is at #4, as Jimin debuts high with the track “Who”, which for those who don’t follow the charts as religiously or aren’t in the K-pop bubble are probably asking. He’s from BTS, we’ll have more on him later. At #3, which a lot of people will be very happy about, is Chappell Roan with “Good Luck, Babe!” whilst trailing behind Sabrina at #2 we get the similarly sapphic “BIRDS OF A FEATHER” by Billie Eilish. Of course, Sabrina’s still at the top, so let’s look at what ended up below to see if any of these new tracks are worth sticking around, though most of these have already planted themselves in the top 40 so it seems more than likely. As for what has yet to get there…

New Entries

#50 - “WILDFLOWER” - Billie Eilish

Produced by FINNEAS

The only debut we have for this episode that landed outside of the top 40 is actually a late entry for an album cut from Billie Eilish’s latest record, HIT ME HARD AND SOFT, which I admittedly don’t revisit very often despite really liking it on release. “WILDFLOWER” is around the middle of the album and hits especially hard after “BIRDS OF A FEATHER”. In “WILDFLOWER”, Eilish comforts a woman she had seen experience a rough breakup but eventually forms a relationship with said ex-partner, though the morality of that is up to question and Eilish feels somewhat guilty about having those feelings. That line in the first verse, “I wasn’t there but I know”, is so essential because it frames Eilish as an outsider, who only really saw one part of that relationship during that period, and is now getting to experience what she would have when she was with this person. That extended closeness and vulnerability with her friend not only strengthened her bond with Eilish but also, in a twisted way, Eilish’s relationship with the ex-partner, and I think it actually seems up to interpretation whether this song is directly addressed to her partner who broke her friend’s heart or whether it may actually change perspectives, I think you could do a great deal of analysis there, and the constant use of changing pronouns, whilst clearly necessary for a personal song, make those feelings of guilt feel multiplied and caving in on Eilish. I love the distant indie folk guitars being at a dissonance with the clean, echoing vocals Eilish is known for, and that chorus is heartbreaking. Both the first and second verse start with common post-breakup platitudes that make it appear as if Eilish is attempting to float these feelings off as meaningless, but that image of her is implanted whenever Eilish spends time with her new partner, even adding details about her clothing that make this feel incredibly real. That whispering bridge wherein she pits the love they now feel and how this partner has no intent to hurt her with the knowledge that they very much did hurt someone who is incredibly close to her at a vulnerable moment is honestly both a rough listen and read, it’s a resoundingly effective track about complex subject matter that should feel wordy and difficult to put into song but the Eilish siblings have made so loose and concise by evoking the most instinctual thoughts and feelings as the most constant, giving it a really overwhelming feel. This is the first of two absolutely fantastic songs debuting this week, and is definitely the more respectable opinion I have as, surprisingly enough, those two songs are consecutive. Oh, dear.

#38 - “Brand New Dance” - Eminem

Produced by Eminem and Luis Resto

Sigh, this won’t earn me any friends in the disabled community. Okay, so I’ve been vocal - especially recently - about my love for the silly, obnoxious and frankly confusing 2004 album from Eminem, Encore, and 20 years later, Em has released an album that not only resembles that album but features a song intended for release on it. The Death of Slim Shady, which I have discussed in-depth for the past two weeks here, uses some older vocal recordings to help it feel like Slim Shady, the one Em fans grew up with, is still rapping, and they use a lot of filtering and layering between the two voices to not just make the mix sound grainy and confused - which could be intentional or not, I have no idea - but also emphasise the album’s concept that Em and Slim are competing for room in Marshall’s head and will flash in and out of rapping in one personality or the other. “Brand New Dance” is a Slim Shady-led song that features basically no involvement from a sane Marshall, and is pre-empted by the track “Trouble”, where you hear the two struggling and insulting each other for 40 seconds, as Slim forces Em to down some pills and start making fun of quadriplegics, specifically one that any Eminem fan will be very familiar with: Christopher Reeve, or “Reeves” as Shady often says for the sake of the rhyme. Throughout his wilder moments, Reeve, an actor who played Superman before moving to activism as the result of being involved in an equestrian accident that leaves him in a wheelchair, is mentioned by Eminem, and this is especially true for Encore, including my favourite ever track from him, “Rain Man”, which basically has an entire verse explaining Shady’s love for Superman being torn away when he saw that he was disabled, and he feels guilty about it. Early tracklists for Encore including a song called “Christopher Reeves”, which was then taken off due to the actor’s passing that same year. 20 years later, here it is.

Under the possession of Slim Shady, a largely unaltered recording from 2004 plays, newly entitled “Brand New Dance”, which uses horse neighing and clopping in the beat and functions as a diss track to Reeve, by way of creating a dance fad that involves re-enacting the accident and pretending to be disabled, instructing his audience to “do the Christopher Reeves”. Jesus Christ. When I frame it like that, it seems awful, and given the fact that he’s been dead for nearly two decades now, it still is awful but there’s something so interesting to fixating on Reeve, much like the way he fixates on Caitlyn Jenner for the rest of the album. They’re irrelevant figures known arguably for things outside of their control rather than their careers, becoming easy targets for Slim Shady and demonstrating just how washed the guy is, and hence why he needs to die. In album context, hearing this bizarre beat that mixes the horse sounds with similarly flittery percussive sounds to those used in “My 1st Single” and obnoxious synth buzz, alongside some choral vocals, after a few tracks of semi-serious horror-themed production, does a great job at separating Shady from Em but also takes you by surprise. I know on first listen that I was basically dumbfounded to why and how this was included, and didn’t really understand fully until he literally explains half the album later on “Guilty Conscience 2” that it was recorded back in 2004, with this song and basically all of the album acting as a set-up for the useless, nonsensical and still remarkably offensive punchline that Christopher Reeve ruined the song for Em by dying so he had to take it off. That idea becomes even more egregious when Em talks more solemnly about his death and how it will affect his daughters just a few tracks later, and it may exemplify what I like most about this mixed bag of an album: it commits to the bit, not fully, but chaotically and almost improvisationally, just coming up with ways to one-up the recurring theme of Slim Shady being this shell of a man who echoes Fox News talking points.

As for the song itself, well, it’s incredibly offensive but the weird beat is hilarious and actually very catchy, and Em’s drug-addled, slurring delivery from the early 2000s is my favourite kind of vocal performance from him, making a lot of his multisyllabic rhymes end up a lot smoother to the ear as well as covering up some of the less discretely strange lines. I love how Eminem hasn’t just replaced outdated references with a new vocal take that somehow sounds even worse than 2004, but he’s re-recorded both entire lines and small fragments of bars for seemingly no reason, just to show that the “sane” Em is still in there somewhere. The back and forth between a multi-tracked cartoon voice and a frail sing-songy delivery that almost sounds like AI on the chorus is an inspired idea that places it firmly in the dance fad song canon, and in the second verse, he somehow rhymes several syllables of a line with a bunch of garbled onomatopoeia (more on that in a second). I love the “grand mal seizure” / “grandma, tease her” scheme, and the conceit of those lines is even funnier - next time you see grandma, surprise her and make her feel at home by doing the Christopher Reeves and showing up in a wheelchair. The bridge, where a new melodic vocal from Em is slotted, has been in my head for weeks, and is just the cherry on top of an unnecessarily hateful cake. He comes back, 20 years later, to record a new bridge for an already terribly offensive song, and in that bridge, he basically dedicates the song to Reeve as if this is granting his family any solace, whilst also dissing the guy for literally being deceased, like he’s somehow in control of that. “This is my Chris anthem, I’m giving Chris Reeves his chrysanthemums”. What did he ever do to you, Em?!

The new outro the song closes off with is mostly just him waking up from the Slim Shady nightmare as well as him bringing back the electrolarynx voice from Encore which I just have to be appreciate, even if he’s going to use it to sound vaguely like Stephen Hawking and speak from the perspective of Reeve which is just ridiculous levels of hating. I almost wish he took it back to when he used it not to diss Michael Jackson but complain about what surgery supposedly did to him - he doesn’t hate Michael, but he hates plastic surgeons and hopes they all fucking die. In this song, he’s only annoyed that Christopher Reeve(s) died because it hurts his own product he’s set to release, and ultimately put this out as a sarcastic “tribute” which is just sick, man. Thankfully, it doesn’t seem like his family has been quoted to have been offended or anything of the sort but there’s a certain audacity to this song that simultaneously makes me shake my head in denial and also force myself to recognise that this is a throwback to my absolute favourite era of Eminem, with absolutely all the tropes I love about it. It’s one of my favourite top 40 hits of the entire year and God, I wish it wasn’t.

#30 - “Chk Chk Boom” - Stray Kids

Produced by BANG CHAN, DallasK, Chae Kang Hae and RESTART

So Stray Kids are a K-pop boy band that I reviewed once before and somehow enjoyed despite all the chaos and confusion that their previous hit, “LALALALA”, led me down, but now we have a similarly monosyllabic and this time, onomatopoeic song that grants them their first ever top 40 entry, primarily because a lot of what’s above it somewhat crumbled. I have no idea what to expect from K-pop when it comes from less commercialised and Americanised acts (the BTS guys and BLACKPINK girls come to mind), as what they often end up releasing is an amalgamation of western trends in a bilingual mess that places cringeworthy lyrics in the mouths of a wide variety of singers all bundled in the same group, and this is the case even within BTS, though they’ve been smoother with it as long as they’ve been charting in the UK. As for whether my assumptions were correct, this is utter madness encapsulated into two and a half minutes because not even K-pop, which already likes to switch the production up several times within one song, is going to allow for a song to reach three minutes nowadays. We start with this chiptune-like synth that is already flubbery and gross before the boys invade with their explosion sound effects and a rap that honestly is not terrible flow-wise, and they sound much more comfortable in their own language. The industrial drums are honestly kind of sick, especially with that vocal fragment hidden in the percussion, and I wish the pre-chorus didn’t completely override that with a reggaeton rhythm and overproduced swell because it takes some of the impact away, especially when the chorus is so stilted and staccato. One of the track’s producers is actually the oldest band member, BANG CHAN, and he sounds the most confident on the mic, especially in English, I kind of want to hear the foundation of this beat with him delivering some verses. Otherwise, I’m somewhat disappointed this doesn’t go for something utterly insane like a drum and bass bridge, metalcore breakdown or phonk cowbells being introduced in the final chprus for no reason, but it still has the endearing madness of a lot of non-BTS K-pop, which I can always appreciate as a character trait despite it rarely ever being all too listenable.

#7 - “Angel of My Dreams” - JADE

Produced by Mike Sabath

Finally, we have the full round of all four Little Mix solo debuts, and it’s genuinely been pretty interesting, and a lot of the time, assuring, to see how the former quartet has sought to define themselves as singers. Sadly, not much has lasted from these acts in general, which is a shame since I’ve loved material from Leigh-Anne and Perrie, but here, we have Jade Thirlwall’s solo effort, and it makes complete sense that she would end up collaborating with one of RAYE’s producers, Mike Sabath, as this honestly has a similar dynamic, theatrical approach written all over it. That’s not to say that it’s a rip-off or that the sonic palate is all that similar, but the flipping of a sample on its head, the disparate beat switches, the commentary on the popular music industry and the heavy focus on impressive vocal layering, all contributes to a song that RAYE could have been involved in, and to be completely honest, Thirlwall fails to develop much of a unique personality, at least in this one song, instead acting as what sounds like a fusion of a multitude of pop stars, which actually makes perfect sense for the content. The sample in the beginning of the track is a lovelorn snippet from “Puppet on a String”, which Sandie Shaw not only took to #1 but made the first of five wins for the UK at Eurovision all the way back in 1967 in Vienna. The usage of this sample, according to JADE herself, is to play on the trope of the pop singer as a puppet and to demonstrate how that can be simultaneously true and untrue, with the rest of the track and its driving electro synths pouncing on the tension that exists between an act, fame and the fans in particular, to who JADE has a love-hate relationship with, and this is where the Madonna-like vocal inflections start to make sense thematically too considering her surprisingly meta output over the years. I do wish the song did a bit more with the sample to play into the theme more, or actually made that cyclical structure feel like it mattered: the overwhelming bass thrust of the mid-section is clearly supposed to play a contrast against the slower freedom of the R&B-inspired intro and outro, but lyrically, the song remains in the same tone and narrative place for its entire runtime, so it doesn’t feel nearly as cathartic to have that book-end as much as it should.

Regardless, I still think the song is maybe not the most impressive of the Little Mix solo debuts, or at least the one not closest to my taste, but definitely the clearest and most cinematic statement of them, whilst Perrie and Leigh-Anne played it slightly safe, and Jesy… well, we don’t need to talk about that. In regards to how this will stick around, or if Thirlwall will see more solo success, I actually think both the dynamics of this sonically and the more thought-through, daring presentation of how the song is written, grant her a lot more potential than the others, who mostly just stuck to what their strengths always were. She may have taken the longest but she may be the one from Little Mix to make it the furthest or the longest if she keeps up the quality and intrigue this consistently, even if I’m not as over the Moon about this as I want to be. I can tell she has the ability to make something I really love, and the fact that she didn’t come out with it nearly immediately like the other two actually gives me some hope that she’ll have more longevity.

#4 - “Who” - Jimin

Produced by Jon Bellion, Pete Nappi, Tenroc, Pdogg and GHSTLOOP

Man, I wish I could enjoy BTS output more, but a few solo releases ago, outside of those kept more to hip hop and R&B like RM and j-hope, what ends up charting from these guys ends up being the most sugary and watered-down simulation of western pop possible. The fact that we see a lot of the typical gang involved here - Pdogg and GHSTLOOP - as well as pop songwriters such as Nappi and the admittedly very talented Jon Bellion, who I tend to like on a songwriting level a lot more than most due to his unique voice and distinct synthpop pastiche you can always hear even in songs he doesn’t perform himself, does not necessarily give me high hopes that this will do any better of a job than “Like Crazy” at showing me who Jimin really is. In fact, the largely derided “Smeraldo Garden Marching Band” probably did a pretty good job at endearing me to Jimin based on lovestruck corniness alone. At least I like the cover art, so that could be a good sign… and well, firstly, the cover art does not fit the song at all but, secondly, I thought Jung Kook was going to be the 2000s R&B and dance-pop throwback guy from BTS, is there really such a need for trend-hopping that we’re going to fuse two distinct acts both on the same roster for the sake of a guaranteed hit? The mix on the guitars feels oddly muddy for this kind of throwback too, probably because of the cloudier 2010s tropical house elements they shower the mix with for no real reason other than shoving whatever can make a “pop hit” in there. Despite that cynical production, the same one that made me really not like “Like Crazy”, I’m actually really fond of this. In fact, I think it’s great.

You can hear Bellion’s voice both in that anthemic and mind-numbingly catchy chorus and the twinkly synth that plays a role best compared to a drum fill, it’s a cute little detail that worse songwriters would not have felt the need to include. I don’t like the mix at all, but it still hits with a solid groove, especially with how percussive other elements are - like that staccato Latin guitar acting as both a background aspect and a distorted one-off in each measure, or, similar to the Stray Kids track, using vocal clips as part of the drums, adding a uniquely hopping texture to it all. Most importantly, the hooks Jimin is delivery are perfect for this kind of youthful R&B-pop, and even if the lyrics are generic, that’ll probably just ingrain them further in my head. It plays to a lot of familiar tropes and in a very obvious way, but through what seems like Jon Bellion just understanding how bland it would have been without his finishing touches, or just the core greatness of that chorus combined with Jimin’s endlessly passionate delivery, it ends up feeling like it’s been there forever. To my surprise, I really do love this in spite of, well, myself, and I can honestly see it sticking around: they may have again hit that sweet spot between their unique character as a K-pop group and the algorithmic coating of Spotify pop that they hit around 2019-2020 as a group. I know that the fans are hiking the streaming and sales up so it won’t last too long or too high, but I can hope that this eventually simmers a return as a sleeper hit because it is pretty excellent.

Conclusion

Well, there’s not much to discuss here, but what is here is frankly on a really solid, way above average level pretty consistently. It was tough between my two ultimate favourites, but Best of the Week goes to Billie Eilish for “WILDFLOWER” as Eminem regretfully takes the Honourable Mention for “Brand New Dance”. Jimin wasn’t particularly close but that doesn’t make his song any worse. As for what takes the bottom spot, I suppose Stray Kids have the Worst of the Week for “Chk Chk Boom” but the song’s fine. As for what’s on the horizon, Calvin Harris and Ellie Goulding are back with a new song together, Halsey’s hopped on the sample train and unfortunately, there’s a new Ice Spice album. For now, though, thank you for reading, rest in peace to… sigh, Christopher Reeve, and I’ll see you next week.

[aquadestinyswriting]

A Circle None Can Break- Part Three

Summary: Selene is finally called to a meeting with the King and one of the Head Librarians, only to get a lot more than she bargained for.

Words: 2,389

Warnings: Aside from some very mild bad language, I don't think there's anything that needs to be warned for. Please let me know if I'm incorrect

tags: @druidx, @strosmkai-rum, @homesteadchronicles, @warriorbookworm, @odysseywritings

Note: The Miranda Rights might be different to what many expect. That's because I used the UK (Scotland) one.

Selene frowned as she followed Stormbreaker through the halls of the palace. Those damned magic-dampening runes now seemed to cover almost every inch of the place. Almost. There were definitely areas that had been missed. Whether that was by accident or to allow the staff to use magic for some of their work remained to be seen.

"Right, wait here 'til ye're called. I'll let His Majesty ken ye've arrived." Stormbreaker suddenly said, stopping in front of a rather plainer looking door than the wizard was expecting. Selene nodded and stood to one side of the door, leaning against the wall as the kingsguard lieutenant stepped inside. The antimagic runes hastily carved into the stone sparked slightly at the contact, causing an unpleasant shiver to run down the wizard’s neck. It had been a very long time since Selene had last been bereft of the ability to sense the magical weave of the world and the sensation was even less pleasant than she recalled. Not only that, but now she was also without her connection to her familiar. She hoped that Chrackle wasn’t panicking at the lack of connection to her. The last time she’d been inside an antimagic field the bird had at least been able to see her. She looked over as Stormbreaker opened the door again and stood to the other side of it,

“Presenting the Grand Magus of the City of Toreguarde, Lady Selene Frigidwake.” he intoned, gesturing for the human woman to get to the door. Selene pushed off from the wall and made her way to the door. She inclined her head in a short bow as she stepped into the little room. It seemed to be a study of some sort. A desk was placed to one side of the room, two stacks of parchment neatly piled to one side and a quill sitting in the ink pot. Directly ahead was a large fireplace, around which several comfortable chairs were placed and a smaller table between them. Three tankards filled with ale had been placed on the table, along with a platter of various meats, assorted cheeses, dwarven hardtack and some of the fruits that grew on the side of the mountain. 

In one chair, sending the human woman a wide smile, was an elderly dwarf, his beard having long since turned grey. He was wearing scholar's robes and a pair of pince-nez glasses were perched on the end of his nose. Standing in front of the fireplace, back currently turned to Selene, was a much younger dwarf. Dark hair fell in ringlets down his back, partially obscuring the Goldseeker family crest that adorned the back of his rich, purple, fur-trimmed cape. He was wearing a kirtle embroidered with gold and silver thread and he wore a ceremonial pauldron on one shoulder, to which the cape was attached. Selene could just about make out the glint of mythril chainmail peeking out from beneath the kirtle. King Storri Goldseeker, his hands clasped behind his back, addressed his guest, his back still turned to her,

“It’s no’ very often we get to meet the greatest heroes of the age more than once in one’s lifetime.'' he stated levelly, “I’ve heard some reasons as to why ye’ve decided to visit our hallowed halls once more, but I would hear them in your own words.” Selene took another step into the room, glancing to the librarian with a puzzled look, before returning her attention to the monarch,

“Your Majesty, I am incredibly grateful to have been welcomed back to your majestic home, even after all this time. As to why I’m here; I am not sure how much the good Abouna told you, so forgive me for my bluntness-” 

“Forgiven. Proceed.” 

Selene bristled at the interruption, but tamped down her temper and carried on,

“Your Majesty, I came here seeking information that would help me to permanently close the Hellmouth that currently lies beneath Toreguarde.” she said. The Low King of Fangthane finally deigned to turn around and look at his guest, eyes narrowing,

“And what makes you think we have any pertinent information that would possibly help your cause?” he asked. Selene did not know what she had, personally, done to insult the dwarven man in front of her, but she could feel her temper wearing dangerously thin. Perhaps the antimagic runes weren’t such a bad idea after all. She inhaled deeply through her nose and slowly let it out before replying,

“To be perfectly frank, Your Majesty, I do not know for certain.” she said, only just managing to keep her tone even, “I only know that I have very thoroughly exhausted all other avenues at my disposal.” 

“What kind of information are ye after, lass? That will at least help us to figure out if we can even help ye.” The soft voice of the librarian was music to Selene’s ears. She turned to the elderly dwarf, a genuine smile lighting up her face,

“Thank you, Derek.” she sighed, “I’m looking to see if you have any information on-” Selene stopped and looked over to the door of the study, suddenly aware that there were raised voices coming from the other side. King Storri’s already thunderous frown deepened even further. He looked to the door and began a march towards it just as it burst open. The Captain of his Kingsguard- a tall and broad shouldered dwarf dressed in elaborately decorated full plate armour and a spec helm with a large, feathered plume on top- saluted the younger man and bowed deeply, holding his helmet under his arm,

“I apologise for the intrusion to this meeting, Your Majesty, but we have a situation.” he said, glancing over to Selene. King Storri groaned out a sigh and simply gestured for the Captain to carry on, pinching the bridge of his nose. Captain Bloodvein turned to the door and nodded to his Lieutenant, who ushered an unseen person forward. Selene froze as a troupe of Kingsguard marched into the room, hands on their weapons, surrounding her. Following in at the back, were two Ironguard and in the hands of one of them…

“Chrackle!” Selene yelped, her eyes widening on seeing the state her familiar was in. The corvid was wearing a falconer’s hood over his head and his wings and feet were tightly bound to his body. A thick, leather thong was wrapped tightly, too tightly, around his beak. Selene barely had time to process this when one of the Kingsguard snatched her staff away from her and two others forced her to her knees. Derek leapt to his feet, but was waved down by King Storri, who looked to Captain Bloodvein,

“Captain Bloodvein, what is going on?” he asked calmly. Bloodvein heaved a sigh and stepped towards Selene,

“Lady Selene Frigidwake, you are hereby placed under arrest by the authority of the Council of Fangthane under Section 1 of the Criminal Charges Act. The charges placed against you are as follows; of Conspiring with enemy agents, political Espionage on behalf of enemies of the Crown and plotting with enemies of the Crown to assassinate persons of political interest on the Fangthane Council. You do not have to say anything. But it may harm your defence if you do not mention when questioned something which you later rely on in court.” Selene was silent as a pair of shackles were roughly placed on her wrists and she was hauled upright. Captain Bloodvein turned back to his king,

“Again, my most sincere apologies, Yer Majesty. I ken ye had questions for the Grand Magus, but they’re going to have to wait for now.” Storri nodded, glaring at Selene while she was walked out of the study,

“If the Council believes that she’s conspiring against us, I’d rather she were questioned properly about her motives.” Derek scoffed, lumbering over to the king and glaring at him,

“The charges are a load o’ nonsense, and you know it!” he snapped, “Now I don’t know who on the Council has a beef wi’ the lassie, but you ought to ken better.” Storri snorted,

“Do I now?” he rumbled, “Tell me, Head Librarian, does she not work as an official of the City of Toreguarde?” he asked smoothly, “Is Toreguarde not considered a part of the Drakemari Empire? And, lastly; is she, or is she not, a close friend and confidant of one Alexis Dalliance? Who, may I remind you, has been charged with attempted murder following a failed assassination attempt?” The older dwarf blustered for a moment, before recalling himself and bowing deeply,

“Point made, Yer Majesty.” he grumbled, “Well then, since my services are, apparently, no longer required, I suppose I’d better get back to the library.” he said. The longbeard paused at the door to the study,

“One last thing, Yer Majesty.” he said. Storri, who had turned back to the fireplace, glanced over to him,

“Yes?” he sighed wearily. Derek sent him the gravest stare that the king could ever remember being sent in his direction,

“Tread carefully. The last thing we need is for Toreguarde to have a reason to retaliate. There are good dwarves living there.” he said, closing the door as he walked out of it, leaving Storri to stare into the fire.

~*~

Edwin drummed his fingers on the table he was sitting at. He had been sat in the Hammer and Anvil for the last hour, having arrived after finishing his last service of the day, and Selene still hadn’t shown up. While he knew that she was in the city on business, surely speaking to the king shouldn’t have taken the whole afternoon? He looked around the busy pub, smiling as he watched the people around him enjoying their night. While he might have looked out of place to any outsiders, the dwarves here considered him one of them and any suggestions to the contrary would likely end with the ignorant sod being thrown out on their arse just out of principle.

Edwin watched as the pub’s landlord intervened in an escalating argument between a father and daughter, forcing both back into their seats and sitting between them. The Galanite did not envy Snorri;  his family were known for being hot-headed and everyone knew not to get involved in Ironforge internal disputes, especially ones the youngest daughter was involved in. Not unless they wanted a minor explosion of divine magic going off in their faces. Edwin lifted his tankard to take another swig of his ale, only to find that it was disappointingly empty.  He huffed and got up, about to make his way to the bar when the door of the pub slammed open.

As one, all the patrons turned to stare at the dwarf that had just arrived, huffing and panting as he stood in the doorway. The newly arrived patron stared around the pub, found Edwin and rushed over to him,

“Abouna! Abouna!” he called, “News that’s just filtered down from the Palace!” Edwin turned to the shorter man and quickly filled his currently empty tankard with some fresh water with a quick prayer. He handed it to the dwarf and sat back down,

“Alright, Firrik, calm down. What’s going on?” he asked. Firrik took a gulp of the water and stared up at Edwin, his eyes wide,

“Word in the vein is that your wizard friend’s been arrested.” he said. All other chatter in the pub died down as everyone else tuned into the conversation,

“The one that arrived this mornin’?”

“I thought she was invited?”

“Seems a bit stupid arresting an official that’s representin’ a city we’re meant to be allies wi’.” Edwin tuned out the rising noise of questions being called out, his heart hammering in his chest,

“On what grounds?” he asked, loudly enough for everyone else to hear. The noise quietened back down as Firrik fidgeted in his seat,

“I’m no’ sure of the exact charges. But from what I heard, it’s somethin’ to do wi’ conspiracy against the Crown and plotting with enemies o’ the Crown to assassinate the king.” Edwin stared at his friend, processing the information he had just been given. The rest of the pub was silent, everyone within waiting with bated breath to see what the Abouna would do. Everyone remembered the events that had occurred the last time one of his friends had come to the mountain. They’d have to have been living under the mountain’s roots to not. It was also extremely common knowledge, that the Grand Magus of Toreguarde was a close friend of the now publicly shamed and derided Alexis Dalliance (though if you asked any patrons of the Hammer and Anvil what they personally thought, many would say that she was a fine, upstanding woman and that the charges levied against her were probably a load of hogwash).  

For his part, Edwin felt oddly calm about the situation. Of course someone was going to try and get one of his old travelling companions arrested. Especially one that was so politically involved in a city that half the nobles of Fangthane despised. He felt a prickly touch in his chest as Galana made Her opinion of the matter clear. Edwin knew the allegations against Selene were egregious and used that knowledge to channel his mistress’ wrath. Before he could open his mouth however, he felt a surge of power from a table to his left. He glanced over just in time to see Snorri’s niece get up from her seat, the young woman’s face twisted into an angry snarl, the floor under her table rumbling,

“No! This isn’t right!” she snapped, “First, Dar Alexis, now the Grand Magus? What in the bloody Pit is the Council playing at?” Snorri reached over and pulled the girl back to her seat while her father glared at her,

“Merri! Language!” Well, that was two Gods who were none too pleased with this development, Edwin noted. He stood, a surge of righteous power gathering around him as well. The dwarves closest to the two clerics shifted back several feet as Edwin turned to the young Moradhir and nodded,

“Don’t worry, that’s something I fully intend to find out.” he growled, grabbing his staff and storming out of the pub, a trail of thorny vines following in his wake.

[m1ckeyb3rry]

SHSHSH wavelength check LMAO but that scene truly is so majestic he looks soooo gorgeous there!!

HSHAAHHA no it’s ok when the main focus is Karasu you’ll be too busy thinking of Karasu that you won’t need to think about others characters LOL

LMAOO TRUE!!! I remember that moment with Shidou…maybe Karasu is the only one who can tolerate his shit LMAO the difference in Isagi and shidous reaction is so funny though

HAHAHA Hiori really doing anything just to get some decent parents he’s probably thinking like “it’s not like my parents now love each other anyways”

Oh yeah…I remember that spread where they’re all standing on the field in a like top looking down perspective kind of angle….omg yesss Barou goal!!! Trust that will be so hype but I’m also excited to see how he gets yellow carded because of his shirt LMAOOOOO

Also wait JJK ENDING IN 5 CHAPTERS??? War is over but I also don’t know how they’re gonna tie up all the loose ends in just 5 chapters but i guess we’ll find out??? It feels so weird that it’s ending so soon though omg

- Karasu anon

RIGHT he literally ate!! like he is always so so handsome but episode nagi definitely has the best panels of him no question 😩 like that one and the infamous one of him introducing himself to nagi and being all smirky DJSKDKD ugh he’s so fine

WE CAN HOPE one time though i had an idea for a nagi fic (before peregrine) and i was so hype to write it but whenever i tried RIN wormed his way into being the main character so sadly it is in fact an established thing for me where some characters just “like” an au more than others 😭 but we will see…okay wait speaking of characters to write for i just got a request for kiyora ⁉️ i’m lowkey excited i’ve never written for him before…actually i don’t think i’ve ever seen anything written for him either 🤔 truly i think my acct is just a safe space for side character enjoyers JFJDJS proud to do it though 🙏🏻

karasu and shidou being besties lowkey makes sense in my mind…they’re like basically the same age (shidou is like 1.5 months older iirc??) and the only other two relevant characters their age in bllk are barou and yukimiya who are both way more serious than karasu and shidou 😰 i feel like karasu and shidou could probably match each other’s freak very well 😭 imo that meme that’s like “plug a lil weird but he chill though” is how karasu views shidou and shidou is just like “yay friend” LMAOO maybe they need to be a duo somewhere in the miraverse

PLSSS he’s like “at least y/n and karasu don’t actively hate each other…close enough…” okay but as much as otoya was messing around and asking why hiori would want karasu as a dad i know for a FACT he would be such a good father 🥹 he gives me the vibes where he always holds his baby in like awe if that makes sense?? like he’s in disbelief that that’s HIS child 😭

yeah that’s the one i was thinking of!! and YESSS omg his goal is so good…him getting yellow carded and nagi calling him a “stripper king” cracked me up too because nagi looks so cute and barou is like FUMING 😭 also excited to see karasu arguing w the ref after rin gets kicked in the head LMAOAOAO i need to see my man mad 🤭

no yeah i have no idea HOW it’s going to end in five chapters but i’m honestly kinda glad…like i just want it to be over so i can finally and fully move on from it for a bit 😭 as much as i loved it back in the day i feel like nowadays i’m just reading because it’s EVERYWHERE on social media and also because i have like nostalgia abt it?? i was so heavily into the fandom for so long that i do want to see it through but i’m just not that into it anymore 😔💔 as soon as i finished pomegranate ink it’s like my motivation and interest in it vanished LMAOAAO but i do hope the ending is somewhat satisfying!! it’ll suck if it’s halfhearted or mediocre

[bapehoodie98]

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[elvisabutler]

happy we'll be beyond the sea

summary: elvis is a selkie, just like his mama was. colonel parker has been in charge of keeping his skin safe since his mama died. the colonel uses it to have elvis do whatever he wants him to do. until one day the colonel isn't the one who has the skin. someone else is. fandom: elvis ( 2022 ) | elvis presley | austin butler pairing: elvis x reader, past elvis x priscilla rating: m for a brief smut at the end. word count: 10, 727. i don't want to talk about it. i don't wanna talk about it. warnings: death mentions. mentions of elvis's poor health. mentions of seal skin. mentions of turning into a seal. really a lot of mentions of skin, because regrettably that is the basis of a selkie myth a lot of the time. me playing fast and loose with selkie myth to suit my own needs. elvis being a himbo. threatened violence toward the reader. overall bad things involving the international. gambling. period typical-ish misogyny implied. fingering. implied/fade to black p in v sex. author's note: so, welcome to the first of four creature au's i'm writing in october in addition to kinktober. i started off with selkie elvis because the international being a trap/tomb/prison is bookended with the vampire fic i'm ending the month on. i am not expecting a lot of y'all to read this because selkie aus are not massive in fandom but i've been a part of enough that have had them that i wanted to make one with elvis. you do not have to picture austin!elvis as i left it vaguely mismash-y between him and actual elvis. but i wanted to write this so i did. next week is mermaid austin, third week is gonna be incubus elvis and then halloween is vampire elvis. enjoy! also the jumpsuit i mention is a real jumpsuit that yes has a green/blue beaded version and a red beaded version, look up the spanish flower jumpsuit if you're curious about it. the green one has a scarf. i am now a sucker for elvis giving his woman a scarf. and this is set late '73/early '74-ish. fudging dates just a little to make things work for me. also do not come at me for inaccuracies with the myth, i have enough celtic blood running through my veins that i can do whatever i so desire with the myth, thank you very much. also if you want mood music, a lot of the time i listened to the navajo version of beyond the sea it's very relaxing. no pressure but i discovered it while writing this and i love it a lot.

"I wanna give you something, 'Cilla. Something that's gonna prove to you I won't stray now that we're together." Elvis says more excited than Priscilla's ever seen him.

"Elvis- we've been together-" And you've still fooled around but she ignores it because short of Ann-Margret no one else really has held a candle to her. "What's this gift you want to give me that's so important?"

"My skin." He answers without missing a beat before his eyes widen and he realizes what he said. "My seal skin, satnin."

"Your seal skin." She repeats slowly the words sinking in. He's told her about how he isn't human on more than one occasion, warned her that there's a possibility any kids they have might be that way but to hear him talk about a skin she's never seen is strange. "It's an actual-"

"Skin. Looks like a pelt- you- darlin' you haven't seen me as a seal, mama always said I was majestic. Like ink from one of those squids or whatever." Elvis is practically bouncing on his feet, looking every bit of an excited boy and not a man over thirty. "You're my wife, it's supposed to be yours. My daddy used to keep mama's until she- died, and she kept mine while I was on the road back in the day. She thought I was gonna lose it. I-I gave it to the Colonel after she died, told him he had to keep it real safe for me, that if I ever got married- if he wanted me to be that All-American man, I needed that skin in one piece."

"To give to me." She finishes his thought, knowing that's exactly where it was going. She's- it's not that she isn't flattered, she is, but Elvis had told her those myths so long ago that she figures just maybe she might need a refresher. "Why?"

"Sailors and fisherman, they used to bind selkie women to them by stealing their skin when they took it off." He starts, rubbing at his lower lip. "Made them be their wives even if they hated it. But sometimes if they got lucky they could give their skin to the person they loved to protect it and protect them. I won't stray if you got it, baby. Wouldn't be able to."

"At all." That sounds like a dream come true, actually, an Elvis Presley completely faithful to her. "The Colonel's going to give it back to you?"

"He's- Of course he is, Cilla why wouldn't he?"

"Because he's a- he reminds me of those fisherman you talked about just now."

"Nah, he- he knows I've been waiting to give it to you. Or whoever I got married if it wasn't you. Wouldn't dream of not letting me have it back. Ain't like I won't work for him without it."

"If- Alright, baby, if you say so, I'll- I'd love to have your seal skin. Your selkie skin? Kind of want to know what it feels like now."

Hawai‘i is never really a breeding ground for his type. Something about the water being too hot and the climate being too hot for his kind to thrive. But Elvis- Elvis finds that it’s one of the few places he feels at home, one of the few places he feels safe to be himself, to swim in his own skin. Maybe that’s why the Colonel had chosen there to make it so he was fully trapped, fully under his control. His mama had always told him to watch over it like a hawk because that’s- not watching for someone stealing it had gotten her into trouble even if it had all worked out in the end with his daddy and her. They might not have been in love maybe- Elvis doesn't like wondering- but they loved each other through his daddy being in jail and up until his mama passed. He hadn't minded the Colonel keeping his skin safe, after all he was just another father figure and Elvis figured he could trust him. In hindsight maybe that was a mistake.

Honestly Elvis has lost track of the last time he's actually seen his skin. Maybe it was that ill fated Hawai‘i trip when he was gonna show Priscilla how he looked as a seal, maybe it was the glimpses that the Colonel lets him see every so often to remind him that he was under his thumb, under his control because I've got your skin, my boy. He is a grown ass man who has to ask to go places that aren't just Vegas or the tons of cities he goes to on tour, sure he can go home, but he can't go to Hawai‘i without a fight and he can't try and go overseas. He can't just have a bit of time to escape.

Elvis can tell something's going on, that something's going very wrong with his body. His mama always told him that genetically he was predisposed to quite a number of things but being a selkie was supposed to help that help keep some of them a bay for the most part. But that was the tricky part though he hasn't been in selkie form for God knows how many years at this point. His body can't keep up he can tell at the rate he's going he's not entirely sure he's going to make fifty, the fact that he's made it to as close to forty as he has is feat in and of itself.

The midnight show was a little more draining today than it has been in a while and Elvis swears getting up off the floor feels like moving through a patch of quicksand. Jerry's the first one of the Mafia to notice, rushing to his friend's assistance.

"You good, E?" He asks as Elvis leans against him breathing a little heavier than he should five minutes after the show has ended.

Elvis contemplates lying before shaking his head. Jerry knows him better than anyone other than maybe George or Billy and he knows the werewolf would call him on his lying bullshit.

"Tired." A sigh escapes his lips as he says that before he licks his lips. "Should've swam earlier. Might've helped."

Jerry frowns noting how Elvis is practically dead weight against him and shifts his position to gain more of a hold on him, making sure the other man doesn't fall over or look completely like he's out of it. "Tomorrow morning, man. We'll clear out the pool for all of us, make a morning of it, you know the Colonel won't be up till 1 after his gambling binge tonight."

The response he gets back is a slight snore as for once in a blue moon Elvis fell asleep without needing to take something to make it happen. Jerry thanked God he had his strength otherwise dragging his friend to the penthouse would have been a feat he couldn't have easily accomplished. The band, the Sweet Inspirations and the Imperials are all staring at him as they pack up and Cissy pipes up.

"He alright?" She sounds worried and Jerry doesn't even blame her.

He shrugs as he starts always away. "Yeah, just needs some rest, all of you should get some rest, we're gonna try and spend some time at the pool if some of you wanna join."

Jerry knows he should see if anyone is saying they'll want to join but he knows he needs to get Elvis to the room in one piece so he focuses on that instead. It takes longer than normal, takes longer than it would if he wasn't half dragging Elvis but eventually they arrive in one piece as Jerry lightly slaps Elvis' cheeks to get him to wake up and shower. He stays in the room until Elvis pops back up still looking exhausted and flops onto the bed, his snores filling the room as Jerry leaves.

The next morning Elvis awakes with a start, wondering where he is until he sees a note from Jerry and a bagel. It used to be a rare occurrence that he felt so exhausted after a show that his body gave out, normally Dr. Nic had to pull something from his bag of tricks to knock him out but apparently last night was one of those nights that seem to becoming his monthly norm. Elvis stretches out on the bed, joints cracking as he gets up, grabbing the bagel and his robe before going to the window to look out st the sky. It's 10AM and Elvis sees the hustle and bustle down below by the pool, remembering how in his exhaustion he mentioned going for a swim. He still think he should have done it last night but acknowledges that maybe he was in a worse state than he believed he was so Jerry probably made the right call. Right now, though? Right now he finds that all he wants to do is to hop into that pool and shed all the stress he feels in his shoulders and chest and just float.

A quick call to the concierge to call everyone else's room and one fully eaten bagel later and Elvis is leaving the building, making his way to the pool. It's a small thing, nothing like the wide oceans of Hawai‘i but it'll do in the pinch he's in right now. It's just him for right now after everyone else had been cleared out, which reminded him he had to give all those guests something nice, he didn't- they didn't ask to be pushed out of their well earned pool time by him. By the time Jerry arrives with that sounds like George, maybe Joe and what he think might be Lamar, Elvis is already well into his swimming, laying flat on his back in the pool. His body feels stronger in the water, even if the smell of chlorine has his nose scrunching up. The calm is broken by a cannonball by his younger cousin and Elvis finds himself choking on the water as his mouth fills with it at the sudden jolt.

"Goddammit Billy!" He shouts once he's actually above the water and swimming over to him, splashing a bit of water at the man. "Give a man a warning, half drowned me over there."

Billy laughs as Elvis exits the pool in a bit of a huff. "You can't drown and we all know it!"

Elvis rolls his eyes as he grabs the towel on his chair and is about to sit down when he sees a woman he doesn't recognize walking to the pool area. His eyes don't leave her form as she walks around like she owns the place. He knows she doesn't, even if the management changed from Kohn. He knows that between the boys and the hotel, no one should be coming down here unless him or one of the Mafia asked for them to come, but from the look on everyone else's faces they're as confused as he is. This won't do, no, he might have felt bad about kicking everyone out, but he's not gonna feel bad about potentially kicking this woman out. Who did she think she was?

"You know this is a private party!" He shouts, making sure he has her attention before bothering to walk over to her.

For her part, the woman has the decency to look over at him and shrug before answering with her own shout as she unwraps her robe. "I don't see a sign, Mr. Presley! So, I think I'm going to go swimming!"

Elvis's eyes narrow before he shakes his head, walking over to her in large strides, taking advantage of every bit of his height. It only takes him a minute to reach the end of the pool she's at and when he does, he just looks at her as he stands between her and the pool. "Not without my permission you're not."

There's something about her, something about her air or in the air between them that makes his hair stand on end. It makes him think about the first time he met Priscilla or the first time he met Ann Margret or the stories his mama told him about the first time she met his daddy. Almost like he was supposed to meet her for some reason, for a good reason, not the shudder that had erupted from him when he met the Colonel for the first time. He doesn't take his eyes off of you.

Your eyes drift up and down his form, taking in wet body, noting the chest hair, the muscles and how he seems large, but not necessarily in a way that's pure fat. Just that all parts of him appeared larger than life. Your mind drifts back to the item you have in your hotel room, hidden to where no one but you can find and you wonder. A hum escapes your lips. "You're not my daddy, Mr. Presley. I don't need yours or any other man's permission to swim in a pool when I'm a paying guest, same as you. And I gamble, something I know you don't usually. Too busy shaking those hips on stage and kissing your audience silly. Someone has to keep this place in business when you're not here. It's mostly me."

"A woman with a gambling problem." He says, tone flat as he moves to touch your shoulder. "Now I definitely know you don't need to be swimmin' unless you ask nicely." He pauses. "You seen my show?"

"I was in the audience for the one where you got a little drunk, Presley." Your hand moves on top of his hand and grabs it to push it away. "I'm not that easily charmed after that."

It's not that Elvis isn't used to women turning down an advance or a touch from him, but coming from you his heart twists a little. Strange since he's just met you but he's thinking it's just from you mentioning that night. He frowns, looking away and off to the side. "Not- ya should come to another. That was a-"

"Special circumstance, Presley?" Not mister, almost like you're trying to test the waters.

"Somethin' like that. Found out some interesting news that night was all. Passed out before the show even." Elvis stops talking for a moment, seeming to realize that he is telling you things he wouldn't dream of telling a stranger all to defend his actions to you. It almost reminds him of how he was around Dixie back in the day. "All I'm sayin' is ya can't be judgin' after one bad show. Come t' tonight's. 8PM or 12AM."

You raise an eyebrow. "That's my prime time to win. Why would I-"

He cuts you off and pushes a stray bit of your hair out of your face, his fingers lingering for just a moment too long. "I'll make it up to you. 'specially if you don't like it."

Your breath catches in your throat at the sensation of his fingers against your cheekbones when he brushes the hair out of your face. You wonder for the briefest of moments if it feels the same way when he trails his fingers down to someone's neck. The question is on your tongue before you shake your head, forcing yourself to keep staring at his eyes in an effort to not back down.

"Are you offering to pay for me to take off tonight?" You ask before you purse your lips. You hadn't meant to make that sound as bad as it did if the laugh from behind you is any indication. Your cheeks heat up and you clench your jaw.

Elvis's eyes flit to your jaw before looking behind you and glaring. The words that come out of his mouth sound more like a booming sort of bark that has you reflexively flinching. "Billy! Keep laughing."

The man named Billy stops and Elvis turns back to you. "I am. Even the hardest working people deserve a night off. You deserve one, and I wanna show you a good time."

"At your show." You finish exhaling slowly as you do. "And if I say no?"

The man in front of you- if you want to call him that- frowns for just a moment before shrugging. "Then you don't swim."

"You're forcing me. Who do you think you are? Because all I see is a has-been who's wasting away in a hotel when last I remember hearing before your drunken ramblings about aliens, you wanted to go to Japan and Germany and everywhere. But I know you're going the second you leave here because you do it every year."

Elvis moves closer to you and looks you up and down. "I'm Elvis Presley, the man you can track like a bloodhound. 'm not forcing you to do anything, just come to the show, let me show you how good it is and you can do whatever ya want."

You huff and push your way past Elvis, tossing your robe onto an open chair and making your way to the deep end of the pool, sliding into it and under the water before you break the surface after you see Elvis standing over where you slid in. "Fine. Now can I swim? Or are you gonna pull me out?"

If his look turns a little heated, seeing you soaking wet in water while he's standing over you, he chooses to believe God would forgive him and that you wouldn't notice. "Have at it. Watch out for the idiots. Billy's fond of playing chicken. Fuckin' sucks at it, though."

Jerry by this point has left the pool himself and is sunning himself in the chair next to where Elvis plops down as you look at the two of them, your lip curling in what might be disgust. That's a new one for him. "She doesn't like you."

Elvis grabs the pair of sunglasses on the table that he knows Jerry brought down for him and spares a glance back at you, marveling at how the water slides down your back. His tongue darts out of his mouth like he wants to lick it off of you. He shakes his head and pinches the bridge of his nose, you had him acting like a teenage boy with those thoughts and some desire to not immediately act on them. "Yet, Schilling. Yet."

He snorts. "Yet. In your dreams, EP."

You don't want to go, you have been dreading going all day since you climbed out of the pool after your swim. Elvis had tried to talk to you a few times in the pool, only for you to rebuff him with splashes of water and eyerolls. His entourage left the pool area first and you think that means he's going to follow them before you see a shadow blocking the sun from you. You sigh. "Elvis get out of my sunlight."

"What color are you wearing?" He asks not even making a single attempt to move.

"I'm not matching you." A pause, because honestly, you might not be matching him but what's the harm in lying to him about the color any way. "Turquoise."

His lips curl into a smile and despite your frustration at the man you can't help the way you stop breathing for a moment at seeing that look directed toward you. Lord have mercy who gave him the right to look like that and be as much of a pain as he had been that morning. "Turquoise. You'll look a goddamn vision in it. Won't- I'll see you tonight."

"Maybe!" You call out to his retreating form.

As it turns out you hadn't completely lied to Elvis, you were wearing something that had turquoise beads on it it to offset the complete void of black that it was. You thought it was cute and it had brought you a bit of luck at the tables from time to time so you didn't see the harm in it until you found yourself being met at your table by one of the men Elvis surrounded himself with- Jerry, you think his name was- and you saw how his eyebrows raised at your dress and your platform shoes.

"Did- Did EP buy you that?" He asks before shutting his mouth and wincing when he realized what he said.

"No?" You answer, confusion coloring your tone as you narrow your eyes. "Why?"

Jerry can't help the laugh that escapes him as he shakes your head. "You'll- I- I can't tell you, you'll see when the show starts. Get comfortable. E wants you to enjoy tonight, sent me out here to make sure you do."

"I don't need a babysitter." Which was true, but at the same time, the company would prevent other people- people who'd likely want a word with you over their losses from bothering you. "But if you're going to be here, I'll tolerate it. Is my tab on him too?"

"It is." He murmurs as the house lights start to dim.

The second you see Elvis you realize what Jerry had meant. You were matching, your lie had meant that he picked a jumpsuit with turquoise detailing and was black. You want to be horrified but it's strangely flattering knowing that Elvis wanted to have you match somehow, not that he had known you were going to essentially be wearing a dress version of his jumpsuit. You spare a glance at Jerry who is laughing at your gasp. He waits until Elvis is saying something to the audience and staring right at the two of you to whisper something to you.

"Don't know what it is about you, but I haven't seen him this excited for a while. Not telling you to give him a chance or make it easy for him, but hear him out. He's- he's been through some stuff and it's getting to him."

Once again your mind drifts to what Parker had been forced to give you when he lost and the myths you've heard offhandedly from plenty of drunks. You wonder if that has something to do with it. that had to be it, you weren't the kind he went for anyway. Even if you think you'd go for him just for the hell of it. You sigh.

"This is a one time thing, Mr. Schilling. I can't be coming here night after night. I'm just as busy as him."

Jerry hums as he sees the house lights start to light back up and Elvis launches into what you swear is an actually entertaining routine about wanting to see the audience. You're almost not paying attention to who he's pointing out until he mentions your name and you wince at the bright light on your face.

"Sorry 'bout that, darlin'. Forgot to give you warning. But look at her, isn't she a beauty, didn't realize we were gonna be matching. Thought you were wearing turquoise, baby!" He jokes as the audience laughs with him.

Your embarrassment with the situation has your shoulders tensing up and you want to not answer, you want to run but you're an adult and you know very well that there's enough people in here who you play with that if they see you blink in this situation they'll never take you seriously again. So you don't blink.

"So did I! Left it in Memphis?" You joke, smiling your most charming smile as you do a twirl so everyone can really see you do look like you're his matching girl.

"Hawai‘i!" He answers back before motioning for you to come up the stage. "Let her by, everyone! Gotta give her something to cover up that gorgeous neck."

You look confused for a moment before you make your way up to the stage. This entire thing was getting way too weird for your tastes, you had just met Elvis and here he was trying to make the audience be charmed by you like he planned on you being by his side for a while. What did he think that you were gonna join his little Memphis Mafia as the resident gambling woman? A few members of the audience were still a little too close and you found yourself pushing at least two of the women away when they tried to grab at your dress like they were going to steal it right off your body.

Elvis is looking at you from the stage and when he sees the women try and pull off your dress he almost hops off of it to defend you and protect you. Strange, but at this point he's beginning to realize everything about you and his reactions to you is a little strange.

When you finally reach the stage, he takes off his scarf, it's sweaty and he knows it is but somehow knowing you'll smell like him, knowing people will see his scarf and know that you're off limits. How off limits exactly he doesn't know. All he knows is he wants to see you with something of him wrapped up around your neck. His eyes flit to your neck as soon as you take it from him, your fingers brushing his, causing his body to flush more than it already was from the exertion of the show. If the brush of his fingers illicit the same reaction in you it doesn't show beyond a brief inhale. You noticed how his eyes flit to your neck though and despite the sweatiness you end up tying the scarf almost immediately around your neck perhaps a little tighter than you should, but you didn't trust the audience members to not try and pull it off you.

His tongue darts out to wet his lip when he notices how tight you tied it before he chuckles. "Y/N, everyone! Ain't she a good sport. Go on back to your seat, doll!"

You didn't even wait for his permission, your backside already turned to him, your dress swaying with your hips as you slid in between everyone. No one cares what you have to say but you can't resist the response. "Not your doll, E!" Not Elvis, not Presley, not even EP, just E.

If the rest of his show seemed like he had the energy of two men- well, you chose not to notice it. You do have to give Elvis credit, though, he wasn't wrong about the night you had seen before not being his best work. This was something else, he commanded a room the way you commanded a table. It has you clenching your thighs together and has your lips twisting into a frown when you realize it. Jerry doesn't say anything about how you keep shifting in your seat except for the occasional sniffle and small huffs that leave his lips. By the time the show is done, you're already standing up, ready to leave when Jerry grabs your arm.

"You should come backstage." He says, motioning to the curtain. "I know he's going to want to see you after that."

Your hand moves on top of his and you pull it off as you shake your head. "If Elvis wants to see me, he can come find me. I'm sure the hotel staff would let him know my room number. Now if you excuse me, Mr. Schilling, I still a few more hours to enjoy my night. Do me a favor and tell him that he might be right, I shouldn't have judged him off that show."

Jerry lets you walk away even though he knows Elvis is going to hate it because this is something else. The whole thing is strange, you smelt faintly like Elvis before he put the scarf on you and yet- he was going to get to the bottom of this eventually but in the meantime maybe it wouldn't hurt to make Elvis work for you.

Two weeks later and you're beginning to think Elvis has forgotten about you. Sure, he gave you the scarf and seemed bound and determined to get you to like him but he hadn't found you yet. His manager had on more than one occasion, trying to win back the skin, but the joy was that Colonel Parker absolutely did not know when to quit when it came to wins. He had won it several times over only to lose it again that same night. It'd be tragic if you didn't find it hilarious to watch.

It's about 10AM when you hear a knock on your door. Strange, but not entirely unheard of, it might have been room service for all you knew. What greeted you had you stopping in your tracks.

Elvis looks good- better than he had two weeks ago and you wonder if it's makeup or something like a diet pill or some drug. No one looks that good after looking as bad as you've heard he's been lately. Then again, most of your knowledge had been from tabloids so maybe he wasn't that bad off. Your eyes drift down his form, taking in the suit with no undershirt, the belt with a buckle bigger than your whole hand and his boots. When your eyes drift back to his face he tries to blow his bangs out of his face before he grins. "You are a hard woman to find. You pay off the front desk staff? Because goddamn they wouldn't tell me a thing."

Your mouth opens and closes in quick succession before you finally squeak out an answer. "Nope. You're- You've been looking for me?"

"Every morning." He answers honestly, looking at your unmade bed and back at you. "Am I interrupting something?"

You turn to figure out what he was looking at before your eyes widen and you bite back a laugh. "Are you asking if I have company?"

He has the decency to look a little guilty before he nods. "I am. From that giggle though, I'm thinking you don't."

You nod back and fully start to laugh. "Unlike some people, I'm not known for sleeping with strangers."

Elvis purses his lips and shakes his head. "Lord help me, I don't know why- you are-" He takes a moment to breathe and he swears he smells the sea when he feels the breeze from your open window waft air out to the hallway. Impossible because you're both in Vegas but he knows that smell. It smells like- it smells like his skin used to. "What about talking to 'em. 'specially since you've got my scarf."

Your eyes flit to your nightstand where the scarf is and you pray to every deity he hasn't seen it. You shouldn't tell him yes, you should just let him have his scarf back and be done with it but you're thinking that's still not going to solve the problem so you shrug.

"By the pool, E?" A neutral spot, and one you figure you both feel comfortable being by.

"Already got a party going 'till one down there. It's a date." He turns to leave before he looks back at you. "I don't know if that's a candle or what but- your room smells like the sea. I like it."

Your eyes widen momentarily before you stutter out a thank you and shut your door before running to the closet. The skin is still there, still looks healthy- honestly looks healthier than it was when you first got it and you jump back like you've been burned. You were no expert on any of this but this- this was weird. Still, you had to grab your swimsuit and head downstairs. After all, he wanted to pretend this was a date and you hated being late for those.

As it turns out, Elvis wasn't bad. You learn this after the first morning in between laps around the pool and interruptions from various people. You learn the real basics of him that day. But as the weeks go on and turn into months you learn about his charitable works, about how his gaudy house was actually bought for his mother and on one memorable day how he hates every single one of his films including your favorite.

"Viva Las Vegas! Oh come off it-" He exclaimed, shaking his head. "That- Love Ann Margret."

"Yeah, everyone knows you did. But I really liked it. Especially that scene when she let you fall into the pool." You grin, grabbing some water with your hand and splashing it at Elvis's face.

"Oh, you just like me all wet, I see how it is, darlin', that's really why you chose the pool wasn't it." He asks, leaning over like he's about to kiss you.

You inhale sharply. "That's for me to know and you to never find out."

His hand moves to untie the scarf you wear out of habit at this point, his scarf you wear out of habit at this point and lets his fingers trace your neck when he does. "Not even if I ask real nicely, mama?"

It occurs to you that if you didn't have his skin, if you didn't know that you had his skin this would be easier. You'd feel less like you're taking advantage of him, but you feel that way, you know the basic myth, you know this has to be tied to it somehow. Still, his hand is touching your neck and you know your pupils have to be dilating by now and- your chest feels like it's in a vice grip before you manage to guip and speak. "Not even then."

"Can I kiss you?" He asks as his hand moves up to your cheek and you swear you stop breathing before you find yourself nodding against your better judgment.

Elvis's lips are soft and that surprises you for reasons you don't quite understand. They dominate the kiss and you don't know if it's because Elvis is the more dominant one- barely- out of the two of you or if it's because they're just larger than yours. You mean for it to stay chaste, you do, but then you can feel his tongue pressing against your lips and you open your mouth to let him in, your tongue dancing with his own. On instinct, you nip at it, something you've always done with partners and earn a groan from him. You're both on the edge of the pool and everyone else is there but without even missing a beat, Elvis moves to climb on top of you, half shielding you from everyone's eyes but also allowing himself the pleasure of pressing against you.

"Elvis-" You breathe out when he pulls away trying to steady his breathing. "We're- by the pool, everyone's here. I'm pretty sure they're staring."

He shakes his head. "They've seen worse. I've seen them do worse, just- let me kiss you, darlin', please. It feels- you feel like home. Feel like I did back when I-"

He trails off and you find that it worries you because you feel him tense above you. "Back when you what?"

Back when he had his skin? He's- his manager has had his skin, he had been married not that long ago, what does he even mean by that. You needed to- he needed to have the skin back if it was causing him to feel like this with you for no reason.

"I can't- I won't tell you right now. After the show tonight, darlin'. I'll tell you after the show if you wanna know still." He shakes his head and starts to pull away. "I. It's getting close to one. Darlin' do you have a dress like that one you wore to my first show. That black one."

"I have it with red stones? Won it off a businessman. Why?" You're fully confused now, wanting to ask what's going on and why Elvis is seeming skittish now when he had just been wanting to kiss you. Had he realized what was going on? Or what might be going on?

His lips curl into a smile. "It was like you were tailor made for me. It's the same for me. I was planning on wearing the one with my red stones. Come to the show, I'll give you my scarf before it. I just need my- I need you to match me."

"Kiss me some more and I will." You give him a small smile when you speak, grabbing at his cheek and watching him nuzzle into it not unlike the seal you know he is inside.

"Okay." He whispers leaning back down and closing the distance between you.

The Colonel sees you backstage before Elvis does and gives you a once over before grabbing your arm and attempting to move you to where no one can see the two of you before Jerry actually catches him.

"Let her go." Those three words have the Colonel dropping your arm like you scalded him before he glares at Jerry and leaves, leaving you to rub at your arm. You open your mouth to explain before Jerry waves you off.

"I know how bad his gambling gets. None of my business how much you took him for as long as- maybe you can find a way for it to get back into EP's pocket."

It really should be his business is what you want to tell him before Elvis spots you, practically running over and picking you up in a hug before twirling both of you until he sets you back down. "You came and you match me, darlin'. Don't know if I like you more in the black and blue or this one." His hands move to his neck, pulling off his scarf and tying it around your neck loosely. His breathing quickens just a hair seeing his scarf around your neck before he shakes his head. "You look perfect."

It's hard to make you feel bashful but in that moment you can't help the way you look down and kick at the floor like a schoolgirl. "Could say the same for you."

"Aw- no need to flatter me, you've already got me-" He stops himself and leans a little closer to murmur in your ear. "I'll meet you in your room after the show. Shower, maybe get a little dirty with you? Continue what we were doing at the pool?"

Your only answer is a hum and a smirk and Elvis knows that's a yes. Knows by now that you doing that is how you say yes when you don't want to admit it. He takes a deep breath and realizes he smells the scent of sea water once again. It's in your clothes this time, it's in the dress. He wants to ask you what the deal is- why your dress smells like sea water and like home, but Jerry's pulling him away and you're waving at him with a blown kiss. It's silly but he makes a move to catch it and you laugh.

The show is phenomenal as always and while you notice Elvis is distracted by something- someone maybe, he still puts on the show you've begun to expect. By now you've seen or heard Elvis talk about the end of his show that you know how it goes so you let yourself slide out the back of the showroom and make your way to your room, humming "Can't Help Fallin' In Love" to yourself as you do. You know you need to tell him, know that he deserves to know that you're the new owner of his skin, that you've been trying to figure out how to give it to him, but his promise of something more tonight has you thinking it can wait until tomorrow morning before your daily poolside chat. It feels like a lifetime before Elvis arrives at your room and in that time you've undressed, leaving yourself with nothing but your underwear and dark blue robe with your initials printed on the pockets and on the lapels. Elvis knocks once, twice, three times before you answer the door, pulling him in before kissing him softly.

"Shower." You say simply.

As soon as the door shuts Elvis is overcome with the overpowering scent of seawater that he keeps smelling near you and he stops as he heads to the bathroom to make sure he doesn't see any candles before shaking his head. He's got to be losing it. This- it's almost like how the Colonel's room used to smell with his skin hidden in it. But that was impossible, you couldn't have his skin. His shower doesn't take long, his anxiousness and desire to talk to you forcing him to rush through it. When he comes out of the bathroom he finds you lounging on your bed, looking a bit tired. He considers the merits of not telling you, debates if you're coherent enough to hear what he has to say before he realizes that no- he needs to tell you. If he wants to move forward with you- you need to know.

He slides next to you in the bed and leans on his arm to face you. "I'm a selkie." He pauses, realizing that he offered no preamble to go with that. "It's-"

You tense next to him the second you hear the words come out of his mouth and turn your body to face his, cutting him off with a finger to his lips. "I know what it is. Human who can turn into a seal with a skin. Or vice versa, I don't know which is the default."

"How do you- how do you know what a selkie is?" His voice wobbles a little, like he's terrified to hear your answer.

A breath leaves your body in a rush before you bite your lip as if you're thinking, plotting really and Elvis face is morphing into one of genuine panic and worry. "Baby, why do you know what a selkie is? How?"

"I've played with a lot of men who know the legends." You answer in a rush, biting your lip once more. "I- They've told me about them. Your manager told me about it too. Elvis- what does it matter- I know I don't mind it's fine-"

He cuts you off, his eyes flashing and the blue you swear turning into a stormy sea. "Parker- that toad- where is it? You don't feel like home because you're supposed to be with me, you don't smell like the sea because you might be a great seal wife. You- Where is it?"

"I don't-"

"Don't lie to me!" Elvis shouts practically jumping off the bed before starting to go through your drawers, tossing your clothes as he does. "Where is my goddamn skin, woman?! I will- Just tell me where my skin is, darlin' I don't want to hurt you but I need- I haven't had my skin for a decade and you've had it for a month after winning it off the man who was supposed to protect it. Give me back my skin!"

You're sure that your neighbors think you're a murderer with how loud Elvis is shouting about his skin but you don't care, more preoccupied with making sure Elvis doesn't hurt you or wreck your room too much in his search. You get it- you get how this must be horrifying and frustrating but he's actively scaring you with how he looks, how you feel he's every bit of a deadly seal ready to kill you for keeping him away from what's rightfully his.

"Closet." You whisper before watching him storm to it. You don't dare get up from the bed and so you only hear his victorious shout and hear the somewhat anguished sobs coming from inside your closet for a few minutes until you see him come out holding the almost pure black pelt with only a few white spots. He doesn't bother to look at you as he heads to the door, still looking as angry as he did when he first walked into the closet.

"Keep the scarves. It's gonna be as close as you ever get to touching my skin ever again." He spits out before opening your door and slamming it hard enough the picture frames on the wall rattle.

You lock the door and sink to the floor and cry.

A month goes by and Elvis had left the building, an emergency trip back home everyone had said until the pictures of him in Hawai‘i prove that to be false. You've been on a losing streak and you blame it on Elvis. On his scarves, on his kisses on the knowledge that he had charmed you only to leave you because you didn't tell him that you had his skin. It's on one of your losing streak nights that you hear whispers about Elvis having a show tonight and you can't help the laugh that leaves you at hearing that. You can't help the way it makes your heart twist inside your chest and makes you want to crawl into a hole.

You excuse yourself from that table, realizing you've lost enough tonight and realizing that you'd like a drink. You're not paying attention to where you're going and you find yourself bumping into a body you've become relatively accustomed to.

"Y/N." He breathes out once he steadies you and takes a good look at you. His eyes drift over your form, noting how your hair is unkempt and you look almost like- well like he did when you first met him. Maybe- no.

"Elvis." You murmur, leaning against him, taking in his scent, that sea scent that had left your room two weeks ago and lead to crying jag that left you in bed for two days. As much as it felt like home to Elvis- it called to you in what was perhaps a similar way. "You look healthy. Good. The- Your skin helped you. That's good."

His eyes narrow, realizing you're smelling him. If he was honest with himself, and he rarely is, he hasn't stopped thinking about you while he was in Hawai‘i. Even without his skin you felt like the sort of woman he could be with and who could keep up with him. It's not like he hasn't loved Priscilla and Ann Margret and anyone else he's been with but you were different. You caught him off guard and you felt like the person he was supposed to entrust with his skin all along. Seeing you like this? Seeing you worse for wear because he left the way he did has his heart twisting in his chest and has a growl against himself brewing. He had hurt you, twisted you into something he didn't like seeing.

"Being around you before-" he left, before he realized that you had what he had dreamed about getting back for over a decade and you took such good care of it. "You helped a little."

Your head moves from his chest as you wave him off. "That was all you. I heard the stories, you'd sleep all day stay awake all night. You were the one at the pool that first day."

He gulps and his hand moves to your back, holding you in a hug, his hand rubbing up and down. He can't help the way his nose buries itself into your hair. You still smell like the sea to him. "Only kept going because that's where you wanted to meet."

A laugh bubbles up from deep inside you and you pull away as you laugh like the idea is the funniest thing known to man. "You can't- You can't say stuff like that, Elvis. I'm- I'm going to go back to my room. You have fun down here. With- it's- you're done with your shows tonight aren't you? Just have fun here then. Win some money off of Parker. Oh, that'd be funny."

Elvis pauses and grabs your arm as you start to walk away. "I'm walking you to there."

You look at him like you want to argue before you see that there isn't room to argue. He's already waving off Jerry and Lamar and Billy so it's just the two of you. The idea of being alone with Elvis is not necessarily something you want because you don't trust your tongue and brain to listen to you about how you don't want to tell him how much you missed him. You feel pathetic about how much you missed him because he doesn't look like he missed you at all. Sure, you two had only really known each other for a month but you knew things about Elvis no one else did and you had told him a few things about yourself that you wouldn't tell someone on your deathbed. Being around him felt right even now, felt comforting even now. Elvis moves his hand from your arm, a good thing because you swear you felt his rings starting to dig into the flesh and moves it to your waist, pulling you against him as he walks both of you steadily to your room. The desire to lean against him is too strong just from the feel of his rings against your waist so you let yourself indulge in it, leaning against him like he's the only thing keeping you from falling. You hear a sharp intake of breath from him before he grips your waist tighter, almost as if he never wants to let you go. What a pipe dream.

Your room door comes into view too quickly for your liking and you almost want to tell him that it's not your room any more but you know he's not an idiot. Some people may think he is, but you know the truth, you know the brain underneath that gorgeous hair. You open your mouth to speak first before Elvis turns to face you, his hands moving to push back your hair on both sides.

"Ya look like shit, doll." A simple comment but one that has you shaking your head and biting your lip before looking down. He's not admonishing you but it certainly feels that way.

"No one to impress here for the past month." You answer, knowing fully well he can connect the dots. "And when I lose I don't- treat myself kindly, I told you that the day Billy convinced Lamar to toss you in the pool while he tossed me in."

His lips quirk into a smile at the memory before he shakes his head, frowning. "You- I did a lot of thinking while I was gone."

A hum as you make a move to unlock the door so you're not having what feels like might be a very important conversation in the hallway. It opens easier than you think and you motion for Elvis to go in as you respond with an attempt at a joke. "Don't do that, you might hurt yourself."

The second you're both inside the room, Elvis shuts the door with his foot and leans against it, putting just a little bit of distance between both of you. "Wouldn't be the first time." He takes a few deep breaths, noting that your room doesn't smell like the sea breeze, but it still feels like home- still feels like he's supposed to be there. "But I-I- I came to the realization about somethin'."

Your eyebrow quirks up and you tilt your head questioning what he means by that without saying a word. He takes that as permission to continue.

"I've had that skin my whole life. I've seen- my mama shouldn't have been married to my daddy. Maybe they loved each other but it- it was complicated. I didn't think about it beyond protecting her and all but she always told me to make sure whoever had my skin knew to protect it. Told me to make sure that I was- that I trusted the person I was going to let have that power over me. Made the mistake of giving it to the Colonel, but then you- you won it from him. Jerry told me that- told me how you won it and how you kept winning it back when he tried to get it back and- baby, I don't think you know how much that means to me. How much-" He pauses, taking a breath or several to collect himself. "Priscilla couldn't get it from him, everyone couldn't get it from him and we tried, oh God did we try and I thought this is it, I'm gonna die because I'll be seperated from my skin for so long. I'll waste away because that toad won't let me go. I resigned myself to it."

Your throat tightens as you try and swallow your saliva, and you feel your nose starting to run and your eyes start to burn but you have to say something. "But then I- I got the skin."

He nods, his own eyes looking glassy but not because of any drug. "You got my skin. You got it and you hid it because you- I'd have thought you stole it if you gave it to me right after. But you kept it safe and mama, you smelt- You smelt like you rolled in me, Jerry thought I had fucked you the moment you watched that first show you smelt so much like me. I thought Priscilla was home and she was when we were together, I'll admit that right now, I still love the woman and she gave me my little pup of a baby seal. But you- I don't think it was just the fact that you had my skin that made you feel that way. I- Getting to know you without knowing that you were holding something that could tie me to you- somethin' that I've had used against me for so many years- I- I think I'm in love with you. I think you were always supposed to be the one to get it. Supposed t' protect it with your own life."

"No-" You start before he's waving you off and moving up off the door.

"Don't ya be telling me whatever bullshit I know you're about how I'm an idiot, because I know you think I'm one. I'm the selkie here, I'm the one thinking about givin' you back my skin so that when I'm here, when I'm with you I smell a sea breeze and when I touch you- you feel like the warm waters of Hawai‘i against my skin and I know that somehow you'll make sure I live a long and healthy life wherever it is." Elvis closes the distance between the two of you and by this point you're crying, you're crying because none of this makes sense. Elvis Presley doesn't forgive like this- you've heard the horror stories, you've seen how he barely interacts with his manager any more after they used to be thick as thieves. You had to listen to the Colonel talk about how it was supposed to be the Showman and the Snowman but now Elvis doesn't want to be so tied to him after his betrayal.

"I'm- You- Elvis don't play." You choke out, rubbing at your eyes like that's going to hide the fact that the more he speaks the more you feel tears just pouring out of you. "It stopped smelling like the sea two weeks ago and I-"

He pulls you into his arms and you find yourself just taking deep breaths trying to calm yourself. You focus on the feel of his rings gliding against your skin as he rubs your back and shushes you murmuring what feels like sweet nothings in your ear. "I'm here, I'm not- I won't swim away, darlin'. I came back. I'm back. I'm here. Gonna finish up my residency, this last one here and I'm gonna- I'm gonna take you wherever you want. You're gonna protect me and I'm gonna protect you. Gonna spoil you, gonna swim with you."

"Are you giving it back to me?" It's the first thing that comes to your mind when he's murmuring all those things and making you feel like you want to cry even more even as it's strangely comforting to hear. "Are you giving me back your-"

"It's in my room. I'm gonna move you up there, you're gonna tell me the best spot in there for it to be and it'll just be me and you who knows it's there." A pause. "Yeah, baby, I'm givin' you back my skin. I'm- I'm not asking you to marry me or nothin' but you'd make a good seal wife."

That last sentence, that moment of hearing Elvis call you a good seal wife, as dumb as it sounds to anyone else listening has you pulling away just enough that you can kiss at Elvis's neck and up his jaw before you reach his lips. It's a gentle kiss as if you feel like if you do more he really will swim away never to return. You realize you shouldn't have worried when Elvis deepens the kiss, his hand moving to cup the back of your head as he nips at your lips before pulling away, breathing heavier than he was before, his eyes starting to be taken over by his pupil.

"Can I show you what I wanted t' do with you that night?" He asks, searching your face for any hint of a no. "How I wanted to lay you on your bed, kiss every inch of you and see you moan and bounce on my cock."

You shiver and it's not because of any cold breeze before nodding and whispering your answer with a nuzzle against his chest. "Please. I missed you."

That's all the permission he needed as he picks you up like you're nothing and drops you on the bed, and climbs on top of you, his hands moving to the bottom of your dress, pulling it up slowly over your body and over your head, exposing your silk underwear to him and earning a groan of appreciation.

"Didn't have anyone to dress up for but you're wearing something as soft as me." He says in between kisses down your neck as his fingers move to feel your cunt, noting how just with a few kisses and his presence you're practically soaked. "You missed me that bad. Didn't ever touch you and you're-"

You mewl at his touch, feeling a slight burn at both of his fingers before you move your head to the side and shake it as if you don't want to admit what you're about to say. "I touched myself that afternoon, after the pool. I wanted you so bad that night. Was gonna tell you about the skin the next morning. Thought I was going to lose you for good, E."

His fingers still in you at those last words and you briefly think you've made a mistake before you feel the press of his lips and the press of his tongue against your lips as a reassurance that you didn't. He bites your tongue softly, remembering like he has for the past week how you did it to him and you let out a soft moan as he curls his fingers just so.

"Didn't lose me for good, baby. I'm right here. Gonna be with you for for good if you'll have me." He murmurs against your lips before kissing you again, his fingers sliding in and out of your core.

"Promise?" You ask as you buck up, feeling Elvis's thumb against your clit, pressing hard against it before rubbing a soft circle.

"Promise." He answers, his head moving down to your neck, until he stops at your chest, peppering kisses across it and moving a cup down just enough to expose your nipple. "You can make noise, mama. Wanna hear you, want everyone to know you're taken, want everyone to know you've claimed me. Trapped the selkie on dry land because he's happy for once."

If there was a response you had, it's overtaken by the groan you let out at the feel of Elvis's tongue against your nipple. The flick of it, the warmth of it drowning out anything other than you and him and your bodies. You hear the sound of his fingers sliding in and out of you and your body heats up more if it's even possible. You didn't know you could be that wet for anyone and yet here you were feeling as if you're going to leave a puddle on the sheets. He pulls away just enough to blow a puff of air against your nipple as his thumb swipes just so and you find yourself shouting, your vision whiting out for just a moment as you feel his hand grip your hip to steady you. It's- You never come that quickly, a frustration for most of your partners and yourself but you think- no you're almost positive that Elvis has helped you reach an orgasm in no time flat. You'd be embarrassed if the thought didn't feel so hot.

He speaks first. "You came."

You nod slowly, your eyes struggling to focus on Elvis before you trust your tongue enough to form words. "I-You're very good." A pause. "I can go again. I want- that was too short. I want to feel more of you."

Elvis pulls his fingers out of your cunt, his eyes watching how it clenches around nothing as he pulls them out. It is a sight he wants to commit to memory and a sight he wants to spend the rest of his days seeing day in and day out. He doesn't say anything, instead choosing to stick his fingers in his mouth, his tongue sliding across them before he pulls them out and moves to touch your lips with them. "We've got all night, darlin'. Now be a good girl and taste yourself on my fingers, will you?"

Your tongue is out before he even finishes the command.

Later on that night, when you're curled against Elvis, your hand playing with his chest hair and his hand is petting your hair as you both half pay attention to whatever movie is on the television screen you find that being with him feels comfortable, like you've shed your walls or the hardened skin you normally present to everyone. You wonder if that's just because he's that charming or if perhaps there is something supernatural at play.

"You're thinking too much right now. Thought I fucked that out of you tonight." He murmurs against your hair, placing a soft kiss on the top of your head.

"Sorry, it only works for an hour, then I'm right back at it." You joke softly. "What were you going to tell me that night? About how I felt?"

Elvis stiffens just a tad before he hums and you can hear his head hit the headboard softly. You almost start to tell him he doesn't need to answer before you hear his sigh. "You felt like home. Felt like Tupelo and Graceland and the sea around Hawai‘i all rolled into this package of a woman who accidentally matches my jumpsuits without me buying the damn dress for her. You felt perfect for me."

There's a burning in your eyes you don't want to acknowledge but you can't help the way you sniffle at the comments before you speak. "And now?"

"Didn't change." He starts simply before his hand moves to rub your back and pull you closer to him. "You are perfect for me. We're gonna protect each other. Gonna do what we want when we want it and if they don't like it we'll go somewhere else."

Your lips upturn into a smile at that and you snuggle into Elvis' chest just a bit more. "I'm holding you to that tomorrow morning."

He chuckles and it fills your whole body with a warmth you only associate with a hot cup of tea. "You can hold me to that for the rest of my life, darlin."

"We'll see."

[sara-scribbles]

Pinky Promise?

Fandom: Twisted Wonderland Azul Ashengrotto/GN!Reader Other Characters: Epel Felmier, Jade Leech Word Count: 4,942 Summary: A young Azul forms a bond with a human. They make the promise to meet at Night Raven College when they're older. Six years is a long time and people change. Note: Just something I wrote from a friend's idea about being friends with Azul that devolved into this. It's more friendship with Azul with maybe a hint of a crush. Warnings: None but there is angst

---------

At the age of eight going on nine, the world is yours to explore. Your parents had dropped you off at your grandparents’ beach house. Your first time at the beach in a very long time, you are determined to explore every inch of the beach and collect as many shells for your budding collection.

Armed with your trusty bucket, shovel, towel, and sunscreen, you’re ready for your big adventure. Your grandparents bid you farewell with the warning of being wary of strangers. Running down to the beach, you notice not many people are there. Not that you mind as it means more to yourself.

First activity is to make a sandcastle. You’ve seen many pictures of amazing sandcastles and want to try your hand at it. Of course you know yours won’t be as big as the ones the adults make. Using magic does make it easier to create towering structures. However your magic isn’t much, so you stick with the old fashion way.

You pour sand in your bucket with a little sea water. Using the bucket as a mold you easily make three “towers” before sculpting them with your hands. You stick on small pieces of broken shells and rocks as decoration. This activity keeps you busy for an hour or so before you’re satisfied with your majestic, if not a bit lopsided, castle. 

Rubbing your hands together to get rid of the extra sand, you reapply your sunscreen before deciding to search for shells. You scour along the beach for anything that catches your eye. Any shells that you find go into your bucket. Smooth, rigid, large, small, flat, round. They all go into the bucket with a plonk.

You find one particular beautiful shell. It’s small, barely the length of your longest finger. It has a beautiful spiral design that tapers into a thin point. The small hole where a hermit crab should be is empty. You wonder if you could make it into a necklace to wear. Placing it in your bucket, you wander over to the shallow pools.

Watching small crabs walking around the bottom of the pool, you hear a distant cry. Curious you follow the sound. It becomes more obvious that it’s someone crying. You can also make out other voices. You notice a group of children around your age bobbing in the water. They surround a raised sandbed.

As you wade through the waters, you can finally make out what the other kids are saying. And it’s not very nice.

“Come on ugly!”

“Look at him crying like a baby!”

“Will he ink? Ewwww!”

The kids finally seem to hear you splash your way over because they all stop jeering. Their eyes widen comically large. “You shouldn’t bully people! That’s wrong!” you shout.

“A human! Run or we'll be eaten!”

You watch in awe as they duck under the water. You see a few tail fins splash before they disappear. You had heard of merfolk before and how they lived in the Coral Sea. However, you had never seen any until now. Your attention is drawn back to the lone figure on the sandbed, who continues to sob.

Kneeling on the sand, you pat the top of his head. “Don’t cry! They’re gone.” The boy still sobs in his arms. You do your best to comfort him by patting his head. You recall your parents doing that when you were upset.

After a while, he seems to run out of tears as he hiccups. He finally looks up at you with bleary red eyes. You give him a big smile, revealing your missing front tooth. “Better?”

He nods slowly. Wiping his nose with his arm, he regards you cautiously. “A-are you gonna eat me?”

Your nose wrinkles. “No! I don’t eat people.”

“Oh…”

“I’m (y/n)!” You hold out your hand, remembering this is how adults greet each other.

He cautiously takes your hand and gives a weak shake. “A-Azul.”

Beaming, you shake heartily. “Why were those kids being mean to you?”

He looks away sniffling. “It’s because I’m an ugly octo-mermaid. They think I’m gross and worthless.”

You tilt your head to the side. “Well they’re wrong. I think you're cool looking!” Your eyes sparkle. “Your skin is such a pretty color like violets! And I bet it’s handy having eight extra arms to do multiple things at once!”

Azul’s face color a darker shade of purple at your praises. “Y-you think so?”

Nodding, you poke his cheek. “And your cheeks are soft like mochi! You’re very cute, I just wanna hug you!” You laugh as he pouts, his cheeks puffing up.

Seeming to forget about the bullies, Azul peers down in your bucket. “Are you collecting shells?”

“Yup! I wanna make a collection. Grandpa told me you can make jewelry out of seashells, so I’m looking for the prettiest ones.” Pointing at the houses in the distance that overlook the beach, you inform him, “They live in the light blue house. I’ll be here all summer, so I hope I find a lot!”

He shyly asks, “Do you want play together?”

“Yeah!” You’re eager to have a friend. Plus Azul seems nice.

He glances at the water. “I have to go home, but I can meet you here tomorrow?”

“Okay! It’s a deal.” You hold out your pinky. The boy hooks his small pinky with yours. It’s the start of a beautiful friendship.

---------

You spend your first summer playing with Azul. He shows you the many small shallow pools with different sea life. He takes you to safe places that aren’t too deep for you to swim. He tells you all about the Coral Sea, and you listen in rapture. 

You teach him to build sandcastles, which go much better when there’s two people. Sometimes you’ll bring a snack with you to share with him. You find he really likes fried food, so you try to bring a treat every once and awhile. You tell him about your home as he’s never been beyond the Coral Sea.

It’s very much a summer you’ll never forget. But as all fun times must come to an end, you find yourself with only a day left.

Floating in the water, you stare up at the beautiful sky filled with white fluffy clouds. Azul bobs in the water near you. You point to one cloud. “That looks like a jackalope.”

“What’s that?”

“Uh…a rabbit with horns! I read about them in a book once.”

Azul squints as he stares at the same cloud. “It kinda looks like a sea bunny.”

“Those exist?!”

“Yup. They’re kinda small, white with black spots and two black ears,” he explains.

“Ohhh!”

After more pointing at clouds, you decide to dry off. Sitting on the towel you placed near the water, you sigh. “I’m leaving after today.”

Still floating in the water, Azul droops. “...”

“But I’ll be back next summer!” You try your best to sound cheerful. In honesty you don’t want to leave Azul.

“O-okay.” His voice wavers.

Patting the pockets of your jacket you had left with your towel, you find what you’re looking for. “I want to give you something, Azul. Close your eyes!”

Coming closer to shore, he closes his eyes. You place the necklace around his neck with a pleased smile. “Okay, you can look!”

It’s the small shell you found on your first day. Your grandpa had drilled a small hole in the shell and threaded a leather cord through it. Though you love the shell, you want Azul to have it. After all, he is your dear friend.

Azul holds the shell in his hands, his eyes gleam in awe. “R-really your g-giving this to m-me?” He looks close to tears.

Wrapping your arms around him, you give him a hug. “Yup! You’re my friend, Azul. And it’s also a promise that even when I’m not here, I’ll always be with you.”

He clings to your form crying. “T-thank you!”

Before you leave, you make another pinky promise to see him again next summer.

---------

At the age of eleven, the world doesn’t look as large as before, but you don’t mind because you have Azul. Every summer you spend it with your grandparents at their beach house. Every summer since you were eight going on nine, you spend it with Azul. You look forward to that time.

However things are changing, you know it. Behind the hushed arguments your parents have when they think you’re asleep, you know your home is falling apart. Behind the sad, pitying looks your grandparents give you when you come to stay, you know things won’t stay the same. Yet, you forget it all when you spend time with Azul. Because in your little bubble with the octo-mermaid, everything is okay.

“Hey, have you heard of Night Raven College?” you ask Azul as you soak your feet in the water. It’s colder than usual, so you opt to just relax on the sandbar while Azul floats nearby. You had given him a book to read, which he seems to enjoy, though he makes sure it doesn’t get wet.

He looks up from the book, eyes squinting. “Yeah. Why?”

“You should consider getting glasses, Azul. Your nose is basically buried in the book. I don’t think it’s good for your eyes.” You frown at him having mentioned this a few times already.

He only sighs. “I’ll look into it. I promise.”

You give him a stern look before returning back to the main topic. “I’d like to go there. Though I hear it’s only for mages who are talented. So I guess I’ll have to work super hard to get in.”

“I’m sure you can,” he says confidently. In Azul’s mind there’s nothing you can’t do.

Sitting up straighter, your eyes sparkle with an idea. “We should both go! That way, we can be together even after summer!”

He perks up at the idea. “Do you think I can make it?”

“Of course you can. You’re so smart and hard working, Azul. Be more confident in yourself.” You’re already imagining you two at NRC. “We’ll be able to have class together and eat together! It’ll be a lot of fun!”

Azul nods as he’s already trying to calculate everything he needs to do. The bullies have stopped bullying him mostly. And he does have two moray mermaids who he talks with during school. He’s already started developing his unique magic. “We’ll have to work hard for the next five years. It would be best to study everything possible. They probably want a well rounded student.”

You’re glad to see him getting excited. He almost doesn’t notice the sad tilt of your smile. Almost. “Is something wrong, (y/n)?”

Looking away, you find interest in the sand. “My parents have been fighting a lot. I think they hope I don’t notice, but it's hard to ignore when they’re fighting at night. I think they’re gonna get a divorce…”

Azul swims to the shore while placing the book down on your towel. He grasps your hand and gives it a squeeze. “I’m sorry.” There’s not much he can do. So he pats your head while getting sea water all over you.

Snorting, you try pushing his hand away. But the teasing smile on his lips tells you he won’t stop until you’re smiling. Laughing, you relent and allow yourself to be patted. “Thanks, Azul.”

He still wears the necklace you gave him all those years ago. He stops patting your head. “I can’t do much about your parents, but if you ever want to talk about it, I’m here.”

“Yeah…” You fiddle with your own shell necklace that Azul had gifted you the year after you had given him one. It’s a beautiful nautilus shell with orange stripes all along the outside. “I don’t think I’ll be coming back here,” you confess after a moment.

Azul’s hand tightens around yours. You continue, “My grandparents are getting old and I heard they were planning to sell the summer house before going to a retirement community. So this looks like it’ll be my last summer.”

You two remain silent. Azul holds your hand with a death grip. You look at him to see that he’s trying to hold back tears, though some have already leaked out of the corners of his eyes. Reaching forward, you wipe them off his face.

Finally he speaks. “We’ll meet at Night Rave College.” He holds out his pinky.

Grinning, you hook your free pinky with his. “It’s a promise!”

---------

As you suspect that summer is your last at the beach house. You spend your days being shuttled between both parents. You try your best to study hard for NRC. However, with the fighting and the constant tug-of-war for you, you're unable to focus. When the time rolls around for those who got into the school to leave, you remain where you are.

Disappointment tastes bitter in your mouth. You’re unable to let Azul know that you won’t be there with him. There’s no doubt in your mind he got in on the first try. He’s brilliant and hard working. Gripping the nautilus shell, you vow to block everything else out and focus. You won’t allow yourself to be distracted. Not this time.

So when the black carriage comes to pick you up, you’re ready to go. A year late, but it doesn’t matter. You’ll see Azul. Finally.

You stand in front of the magic mirror, proud you’re there after working so hard. The mirror sorts you into Pomefiore. You’re a bit taken aback but go with it. It’s not like your house determines who you hang out with. All the while, you look for Azul but don’t see him among the upperclassmen.

After settling down in your room, you leave the dorm to explore the school. A bit of your childish wonder still remains. You observe each statue of the seven, examine each classroom, and walk around the halls. It’s all a wonder to you. You’re too busy focusing on looking around you that you nearly collide with another student.

“Hey!”

“Sorry!” you apologize immediately while noting the student is a boy in your dorm. He’s very beautiful with soft features. The glare he throws at you doesn’t do much to scare you.

“Maybe don’t have your heads in the clouds,” he admonishes.

You shrug. “How can I not? I dreamed of coming here for so long, I can’t believe I’m here.” Tossing him an easy grin, you introduce yourself. “I’m (y/n), a first year.”

“Epel Felmier. Also a first year.” He seems to loosen up at your easy attitude. “So we’re both in Pomefiore…”

“You make it sound like a death sentence,” you snicker.

He sighs. “I wanted to be in Savanaclaw. They’re all so strong looking, I thought I could become like that.” He bemoans his fate as you two walk to the dining hall.

“I don’t really care which dorm I was put into. I just wanted to get here.” You pile food on your dish. “I made a promise with a friend to go to NRC with him. I’m a year late, but I made it!”

“Who’s your friend?” You two sit down away from the other students.

“His name’s Azul. He’s from the Coral Sea.” You look around but still don’t see him. “I haven’t seen him for six years, but I’m sure I’ll recognize him when I do.”

“Is that something he gave you?” Epel points at the nautilus necklace peeking out of your uniform.

You nod as you take it out to show him. “It’s something I’ve had for a while. It might sound sappy, but it’s like a part of him is with me.”

Epel grins. “It is sappy. But nice.” The two of you share a laugh as you tuck the necklace back under your shirt.

As you and Epel chat, you find yourself enjoying the conversation. Despite his bristly personality at first, he’s alright. You learn of his strong dislike for when people mistake him for a girl, his desire to be more manly, and his family’s apple farm.

The two of you head back to the dorm. “First day of class tomorrow, I’m so nervous.” You’ll have more time to find Azul hopefully.

“What class do you have first?”

“Potions. You?”

“Flight. I get to meet Ashton Vargas!” Epel’s eyes sparkle. “I aspire to be physically fit like him,” he explains when you look at him quizzically.

“Huh. Well, good luck tomorrow.” Giving him a wave, you head to your room. You fall asleep the moment your head touches your pillow.

---------

It’s about three weeks into the school year, and you still have no luck finding Azul. Perhaps it wouldn’t be as easy as you first thought. The school is quite large and there are a number of dorms. Not only that, but you find yourself being buried in school work. The professors pile on work after work. You find yourself spending more time in the library or studying in your room. The few times you have to breathe, you’re sleeping as you’re too tired to do much else.

You and Epel lament at the workload. At least you have someone to bemoan your fate with. Epel excels in flying class. The few times you’ve seen him fly, he’s so graceful on a broom. You’re not great but at least you do better than some; you manage to avoid falling off. You do well in the history of magic as you find it fascinating. Where most would be snoozing, you were carefully writing down notes and asking questions. Sometimes you would forget about finding Azul as classes took up most of your thoughts.

It’s during midterms when you finally have your fateful encounter.

Students are moaning and groaning about possibly failing the midterm. You’re mostly confident you can pass in all classes except Alchemy. It’s one of those classes you struggle in with the calculations and whatnot. It makes no sense!

“I’m gonna fail this…!” you cry out in frustration.

Epel glances over from his own studying. His face scrunches up. “Alchemy…bleh!”

“Yeah but it’s a bleh I have to pass.” You bury your face in the textbook. “Make it make sense!”

“Hey,” Looking up, you see two other Pomefiore students. “Are you struggling with Alchemy too?”

An eyebrow goes up. “Yeah?” You don’t know the two nor have you ever talked to them.

“Well what if we told you about a study guide that can help you pass?” They both look eager.

“Sounds too good to be true,” you scoff.

One holds his hand over his chest. “I swear it’s true. I heard it from a second year. He got a study guide from this first year, and aced his midterms. And that first year is now the head of the Octavinelle dorm.”

The other one nods. “Yeah, all you have to do is sign a contract and the study guide is yours.”

Rolling your eyes, you can’t believe what you’re hearing. “Sounds even fishier than before. Why would I sign a contract for a study guide? What’s in it for the other person?”

The two scratch their heads. “We’re actually not sure. The upperclassman said we have to go to him to find out. But we’re kinda scared of the two sophomores who work there…”

Epel snorts. “What’s so scary about sophomores?”

“Well to start they’re both super tall with scary sharp teeth. One of them likes to squeeze people until they pop!” the girl explains, hands waving around wildly.

You wave them off. “I’m not interested in selling my soul for a study guide.”

“Suit yourself.” They both turn to leave the library. “Damn it! We gotta meet with Azul in three minutes!”

Your ears perk up when you hear the name. “Wait! I’m coming with you.”

“Huh? I thought you didn’t want to sell your soul?”

“I…there’s something I’m curious about.”

Following the two students to Mostro Lounge, you’re taken aback by the cool and jazzy atmosphere. You had heard about the lounge but never had an opportunity to visit. You see a number of different students sitting in booths sipping drinks, eating delicious looking food, and having a good time.

“Welcome to Mostro Lounge. My name is Jade. How can I help you?” a smooth, almost eerie voice asks. 

You have to crane your neck at the very tall looking student. He gives you all a closed eyed smile. You wonder if he’s one of those scary sophomores they had mentioned. There is something chilling about him. His dual colored eyes seem to pierce right through you.

“W-we have a m-meeting with A-Azul A-Ashengrotto,” the boy manages to stutter out.

He checks a list and nods. “Yes, his three-o-clock.” His eyes dart over to you. “I was informed it would be two people…”

Clearing your throat, a lie slips easily from your tongue. “They were telling me about this study guide, and I’m afraid of failing Alchemy, so I thought I’d come along.”

He smiles widely, revealing sharp teeth. “I’m sure Azul won’t mind. Please follow me this way.”

As you follow behind them, your heart pounds in your chest. You want to believe that this Azul is your Azul. But you also don’t want to believe it because it sounds like your Azul has decided to start some shady business dealings. The image of the innocent octo-mermaid from your childhood is starting to blur. You hope you’re wrong and that this Azul just happens to share the same name.

He leads you to a back office that upon first look is very fancy. You notice the rather large safe behind the desk. It’s a nice office as it’s made to make one feel nervous but also important enough to get a meeting. You also don’t miss the figure sitting at the desk, hands folded neatly in front of him. 

Though he’s no longer in his octo-mermaid form, you do recognize him as your Azul. He’s changed a lot in the six years since you last saw him. The innocent look in his eyes has been replaced with a calculating stare. Gone was the soft smile, replaced with a cold smirk. He at least listened to you and got glasses.

He doesn’t notice you just yet as you linger behind the other two students. Jade introduces everyone to him. “You’re three-o-clock, Azul. Oh and they brought an extra guest who’s curious about your offer.”

As the two students move to sit down, you meet his gaze. His eyes widen a fraction and you notice his hands tighten a bit. But he composes himself and quickly focuses on the other Pomefiore students. You quietly take the seat brought by Jade and sit on the edge.

“So, you’re interested in my study guide?” he asks, his tone cool and smooth. Nothing like the sweet, soft voice you knew.

The boy nods. “Yeah, we heard you helped a bunch of students pass their midterms.”

“Of course, who am I to not help a poor unfortunate soul?” He produces two contracts with a dramatic flourish. “As you can see, part of the contract requires you to complete a certain stipulation. As long as you score within the top 50 for that class, you  won’t owe me a thing.”

They barely read the contract as they’re too focused on listening to Azul. You lean over and read the finer details of the contract. As you read, your mood sours. A sour taste fills your mouth as you carefully go over everything.

“If you are unable to score within the top 50, you will be required to work for Monstro Lounge until your graduation. Oh, and I get to keep that special ability or trait you offer as collateral until then as well,” he finishes explaining.

They both seem a bit hesitant so he adds, “As long as you use my guide, you are bound to get at least a 90%. A good score I would say.” He pushes his frames up as he smiles at them. Not once has he looked at you.

“Well…that doesn’t sound so bad!” The girl quickly signs the contract.

The other student follows suit while muttering, “That other guy isn’t working so it must be easy to make it to the top 50.”

Once the contract is signed, Azul takes them back and carefully places them in a draw. “Wonderful! Jade will lead you out and give you the study guides.”

The tall one comes back immediately as if summoned, and gestures for them to follow him. When you don’t move, he gives you another polite smile. “Please come this way.”

Gripping the arms of the chair tightly, you shake your head. “I still have something to discuss. Right, Azul?” You stare directly in his eyes, which he quickly averts.

Coughing, he waves Jade off. “You can take those two.”

He seems a bit curious but leaves the office with the two in tow. The door closes with a dreaded click. Now it’s just you and Azul. You don’t say anything as you stare at him. You take in everything. He occasionally glances at you but quickly looks away.

You speak up first. “So, this is what you’ve been up to…”

“...(y/n) I-”

“What is this Azul?” You cut him off in anger. “You’re offering such shady deals to students that I know will most likely fall in your favor. They might not have read the contract but I did. And I know it’s impossible to get the top 50 in a class, especially if you’re offering this deal to a lot of students! Why would you do this!? Why are you exploiting people?!”

He’s taken aback by your sudden rise in tone. His mouth opens and closes a few times before it snaps shut with a click. You want to reach over the desk and hold his hand, but you resist the temptation. Instead your expression softens and you lower your voice.

“I know I haven’t seen you in years. But what happened to the sweet Azul I knew?” You want to find the Azul you knew, but it’s difficult to imagine the person in front of you as your best friend.

His expression darkens as he clenches his jaw. “The old Azul was a crybaby who could never do anything on his own. I’m better now! I have power that I never had before. No one looks down on me! Isn’t this a good thing, (y/n)?”

It’s your turn to be surprised. The way he talks about his former self is as if he wants to forget. “It’s not if you’re the one using people! You’re better than this!”

Azul’s gaze is icy. “So you prefer when I was a crybaby no one respected?”

You jump up from your seat. “What? No! You were never a crybaby to me, Azul. You were my best friend, who showed me the wonders of the ocean. I’ve always believed in you.”

He regards you coolly. “I’ve finally shed aside my past, (y/n). If you can’t accept me for who I am now, then I’m not sure where that leaves us.”

Your eyes burn with tears and you have to swallow a few times to stop the lump in your throat from forming. “How can I accept someone who is willing to use others for their own gain?”

Azul looks away, his hands clenched at his side. “Then I guess we have no other business to discuss.”

Your hand finds the nautilus shell you’ve worn for so long; it’s warm from being against your skin this entire time. It’s worn from constant wear, from long nights of holding it in your hands. You wonder if Azul still has the shell you gave him. Or did he shed it like everything else in his past?

“You know,” you say with a humorless laugh, “I worked hard to come here so I could be with you. It was our promise, and I was hellbent on keeping it. But I realize now how childish it was.”

Placing the nautilus shell on his desk, you want to take it back. But you can’t. The past is the past; he’s made it abundantly clear. Holding on to it will only hurt. Azul looks at what you slide over and nearly loses a grip on his cold demeanor.

“You might as well throw it away with the other one,” you say bitterly. You leave the office without looking back. The door slams with a finality.

Out of the office and back in lounge, the breezy jazz music does nothing to lift your spirits. You ignore the looks from the two tall sophomores. You realize they’re twins but quickly focus on leaving. You never want to step into that lounge for as long as you're here.

When you return to the library, Epel can tell from your face that you’re unhappy. However, he doesn’t ask for which you are grateful. You bury yourself in your textbook, trying to forget everything that transpired. 

---------

In the privacy of his office, Azul remains in his seat with his chair facing the door. He runs his thumb over the surface of your shell. Underneath his own shirt lies the shell necklace you made him so long ago. Those nights when he was frustrated, he would look at it. It reminded him of your smile, your laughter, your constant support. It reminded him of the promise to meet at NRC again. With as much as he wanted to cast aside his past, you are not something he could ever let go. 

But it seems the choice has been made for him. He can only stare hollowly at the nautilus and wonder if his choices are the right ones.

[guardianlegends64]

Halloween Event

[You may use any Song or music in the Event!]

* Reaper was taking some guardian bags[Bags that can carry anything to Titan sized and Planet or universal size] for him and his lover and A few for his brothers and little kids[The children will be going to the Guardian Halloween Special Festival] but remembers that some of the SCP creatures and creepy-pasta Creatures even Bendy and the Ink Creatures will be all over before Halloween starts and he can use his bad boy form for Protection for his lover and he tells his brothers to use it if necessary as reaper makes a Mask that is only compatible to the bad boy form and it looks very Horrifying that scares anyone but not his lover*

Reaper:Almost done just need some Alternate Universal Death Dust I can ask my father for that and then some Cosmic and Aether Scraps and some Divinity Energy and so it’s complete * The mask looks like a Dark purple with black lining Skull with reaper’s name on it as he kept trying make some tweaks and some Modifications and some Adjustments so everything is Absolutely perfect and reaper already made two for Blaze and Angel*

Reaper:My bad boy form is Accepted and is Compatible to this Mask just need to be finished until the day starts then those Creatures will know that you will never mess with this Guardian!

* Reaper gets The rest of Materials as he finishes on the mask as He goes into his bad boy form then he wears the mask as he looks at the mirror as the mirror Shatters Instantly and the room was Dark as there was a Echoing Laughter*

[Not really the Mask but Very close!]

* Reaper goes back to normal as he takes off the mask as it looks normal again* Reaper:Just what I Needed but… Fock…

* Reaper Makes the Right adjustments and modifications on the mask as he also finishes up his lovers Universal mask* Reaper: as Beautiful as the universe

* The SCP and Creepy-Pasta and Bendy and his Ink Creatures are now Roaming around the Neighborhood and The Guardian City [ Imagine New York City but Beyond any number Sized City] yet only one SCP creature is in the Guardian Halloween Festival SCP-999*

[SCP-999 is just a very Friendly and Happy orange Slime!]

Reaper:Wait Does the Mask Also Makes her into her? I gotta Give it to her to see…Hm?* DING DING! The Clocktower from outside at the middle of the Palace is that it’s The evening and It has Started!* F-Fock…. Time to send some of these masks to my brothers and just these two masks are for me and my Love

* Reaper Puts on his clothing [He wears a Black All Elemental Immunity Existing or non existing Buttoned shirt and Pants ]* Reaper: Let’s Have a Majestic Early Halloween!

Bad Boy Reaper: And to scare the Fock out of Focking Monsters!

@saphirafoxgirlspost1

* Reaper sends the Mask that actually resembles the Universal Goddess to his lover and a Note saying: Hello my Lovely Kitsune~ I made a Mask that looks as beautiful as the universe and it’s for you, I love to see you wearing it, I’m doing an early Halloween! Meet me outside the palace at the main Gate!

Your Bad Boy Reaper~~*

[twofrontteethstillcrooked]

1 Oct. Suptober: Harvest

"Going to have a proper harvest for once," she said. The other witch laughed in agreement. "Think of the price we'll fetch for pure angel grace."

post-15x09 au snippetfic; deancas, samwena 

"Get the fuck away from him," Cas rasped, and it was the swear as much as the simple fact of Cas being alive that caused Dean to gasp and open his eyes.

He'd screwed them shut in anticipation of a killing blow that never landed. The witch had reeled around and away from Dean toward Cas, and the dagger in her hand glinted in the one of bar of light that was piercing through the boarded up basement window.

Dungeon window, more like. Cave window. The darkness made it difficult to determine where exactly Cas was in relation to Dean. A few feet away? Way on the other side of the room, maybe still half slumped against the spiderwebbed stone wall? Dean tried, and failed, to stand. Something was oozing into his right eye; his legs wobbled like the floor was made of bouncy house.

"Cas," he said once without the sound reaching his own ears. He fell backwards, wooden slats splintering on his weight.

In the dusty beam, the tip of Cas's angel blade blazed like a falling star that blinked out as the second witch holding it stalked into the dark again. 

Dean heard her guttered low cackle, as though she were a radio station the dial had finally properly tuned. His whole body went cold. 

"Going to have a proper harvest for once," she said. The other witch laughed in agreement. "Think of the price we'll fetch for pure angel grace."

"And feathers," the other crowed, before beginning a frantic chant in a language Dean did not recognize.

"Feathers, yessss." The witch's hiss poured like venom into Dean's veins. 

His eyes had adjusted only enough to see the angel blade raised high, and, somehow, the shadow of Cas's wings spread singed and mangled on the wall.

"Or perhaps both wings."

No, Dean thought. No, no, no, no. Please, no.

"We can hack them off at the--"

She'd stopped talking because her head was whizzing past Dean's own. He might have yelped in the effort to dodge it. Overhead fluorescent light banged into the room. Rowena stood in the door, arm raised like she was hoisting an invisible car over a fence; the witch who still had a head had crumpled to the ground. Sam stood over the beheaded body, breathing heavily and wild eyed as a banshee, small sword still aloft dripping red.

The witch on the floor squeaked once, like a mouse stepped on by a particularly pointed heel, and fell silent. 

From beneath her now unmoving form, what seemed like a mere pool of ink spread and spread until it almost touched Dean's boot.

He couldn't catch his breath. The room was quiet like a roar and he could not stand up. He thought to rub at the wetness in his eye and found the substance was sticky. Pressing harder made fire race into his eye socket and up his temple.

Sam was moving towards him, weapon thrown down with a clatter, but Cas arrived first, his face, wracked with fear and dappled with blood across his cheekbone, swimming into view as he knelt.

If his was the last face Dean was ever to see, Dean could take some comfort in it. He refused to close his eyes again.

"Hey, buddy," Dean said, smiling lopsided and rueful. 

Cas's hand fell to cup Dean's jaw like a blessing; it turned out Dean was lying down, though Dean had no memory of seeking earth. 

Cas's other thumb rubbed across Dean's forehead like he was tracing runes onto Dean's skin. Dean felt something crackle beneath his bones: for a split-second, his heart stopped, suspended in pain. The next second was like being punched out of a cannon -- he sat up and nearly knocked his newly healed skull directly into Cas's.

"Dean," Cas breathed in relief despite the pallor of his complexion and the way his hands shook as they pulled away from Dean. Then: "Thank you," he told Sam, who nodded and hauled him to his feet by the elbows before reaching to do the same for Dean.

Sam patted Dean on the shoulder. Rowena stepped around the puddle of witch and grinned her smug grin. 

Cas looked at Dean like he might vanish and Dean returned the stare until he had to look away or… Or. 

There was crimson on the sleeve of Cas's trench, in a crease.

Rowena and Sam collected the angel blade, the dagger, the gory sword. Dean collected himself. He followed Cas's heavier than usual trudge up the stairs and into the coming dusk. The ache of wanting to gather Cas into his arms followed him all the way back to the motel.

In the other room, Sam was talking to Jack on the phone while Rowena hooted. Well, that's what it sounded like she was doing anyway, and since there was a child in the mix, albeit a twenty-something toddler who was 90 miles away, hooting was by far the least concerning noise she could have been making.

Not that Dean in any way was going to ponder what other sounds she might choose to unleash in a room also containing his brother. He sat on the edge of the bed nearest the bathroom and stared at the three jack o'lantern sized pumpkins that he and Cas had bought at a roadside stand a few hours before the case went witch-shaped. He envisioned the pumpkins with toothy grins and chose not to think about anything else with such effort it was a miracle he wasn't carving the gourds psychically.

Cas came out of the bathroom sans trenchcoat -- which was to say, almost naked -- and with a clean face. He sat down beside Dean carefully. "How are you feeling?" He looked at Dean with soft eyes, like Dean was the only concern worth voicing.

After a moment, Cas sighed into the space Dean was supposed to have filled.

"I guess," Dean started. He gave his own sigh. "We've fixed a lot of things, recently, haven't we?"

Cas tipped his head, waiting for Dean to continue.

"Like. Chuck's out there. But. Jack has his soul. Rowena isn't dead. You don't have a deal with the freakin Empty dogging your heels bad as a pack of hellhounds." Dean curled his fingers like his hands were going to betray him somehow; his throat felt full of glass. "You gotta stop saving me, man."

Cas took a breath like Dean had struck him. A variety of memories of actually hitting Cas -- blood crisscrossing, bruises blooming -- flashed through Dean so quickly he almost retched. 

He was trying to keep his mouth closed and his treacherous stomach obedient when Cas said, "You cannot ask me not to help when I can still help."

"You're the one who said I wasn't listening about your powers--" He held up a hand against the protest he could see Cas about to make. "And you were right. I dunno what to do about it, but I know you havin' to heal my dumb ass nine times a week isn't makin' things better."

Dean could see Cas's eyes were wet.

The shards in Dean's throat made it hard to speak. "You're worth more to us, to me, than just what you can do as a powered-up angel." He nudged Cas's knee with his own. "You know that, right? Not that I'm not grateful as hell for you fixing me up tonight, 'cause I am. Grateful, I mean."

He looked at Cas, whose exhaustion seemed to be draped around him like a cloak. Dean was tired too, and not just from the major brain injury he'd sustained earlier. He’d wasted so much time not saying certain things, not letting certain things happen; he’d protected the wrong things, maybe, or maybe the right thing the wrong ways.

Maybe he could blame lingering effects, illusory or otherwise, on what he chose to do next. 

Cas, he prayed, you might have died tonight. We… I. I almost lost you again. 

A prayer continued, whispered: Please let me hold you.

Beside him, Cas startled, looked over at him. Searched Dean's eyes and shook his head just a little, as though he could not believe what he'd heard -- as though having hoped, but misheard, was too agonizing a possibility to endure.

"Please," Dean said, sliding an arm around Cas's back, sliding himself closer on the mattress until he'd vanished the space between them.

Cas turned into Dean's arms. "I almost lost you again tonight too." His voice brimmed with tears. He hooked his chin over Dean's shoulder and Dean soothed his hands over the blades of Cas's shoulders. He thought of the shadow of those majestic, tattered wings, and held on more tightly. 

He and Cas rested like that, trembling, for what seemed like an hour or more, neither of them willing to let go. When sitting upright became less comfortable, they reclined together on top of the polyester comforter patterned in pinecones. Cas tucked himself into the hollow of Dean's body, as though he had done it before somewhere other than in Dean's imagination. Dean pressed his face into Cas's soft hair and let his eyes burn as they would.

None of it solved anything; it was simply more right than anything Dean had felt in a very long time.

[srbachchan]

DAY 4730

Jalsa, Mumbai                       Feb 10,  2021                  Wed 10:25 PM

Birthday - EF - Gaurav Kumar Kulshreshtha  .. Mario Andrew Rodrigues .. Rishi Vij .. Thursday, February 11 .. and the love and affection of the entire Ef family for this special day ..

... this is the direct intended connect with the day of the day .. a look into the eyes of the Ef , seeking their attention for all the patience they have shown all these past few days when I have not been regular in the rel sense of the BlogWord .. 

.. work has been arduous .. the tenacity required for the deemed performance has to be done with the makers in order that the job is secured and that the reason for their hiring me is not irresponsive or inadequate .. else you loose the next ..

.. belief and the advantage of fortune does go hand in hand in the profession that we are involved in .. and a pretty face would help .. but ..

.. it isn’t always the case .. 

.. there are tremendously good looking faces in the Industry and all have had a fantastic response and following .. mix that with the talent they all possess and that is a phenomenal combination .. 

.. the strategy for the put has however been the recurrence of success at the box office mixed with the following .. the presence and looks add value .. the talent and performance gives it added boost .. 

.. and then the most important element - the admirers .. they make and break the artist .. not for them then would artists be in the place of recognition .. so they be the best talent in the career graph of the artist .. divine dedicated and in deep attachment ..

.. strange is it not .. that the very first admiration remains everlasting .. not to say that the admiration for others wanes or is discontinued .. no .. it remains and is appreciative and loved  .. but that first one remains despite, or inspite should one say ..

.. so there will be Dilip Kumar and Waheeda Rehman and Marlon Brando and Montgomery Clift and James Dean .. in the realm of the deepest admiration and personal following .. and remain they be for the rest of life .. 

.. yes there is great admiration for the talent that suddenly erupts on the horizon and defeats all else .. but the first remain .. that first love that first car that first geombox , the first pen, the ink pen , and it goes on and on and on ..

.. and from that writing ‘on and on and on’ 

..  suddenly the writing stops to ruminate that incident .. 

.. Mehboob Saheb,  the majestic, iconic and incredible Mehboob Saheb,  made a film with Dilip Kumar ..’AAN’ .. historic here , so much, that the makers went off to Hollywood to show it to the counterparts there ..

.. at the screening held in the presence of one of the great Producers of the time and Mehboob saheb and Dilip Saheb, the Hollywood Producer Director owner turned to Mehboob Saheb, after being asked what he thought of the film said :

‘Whats the name of the film ..?”

He was told , its called AAN ..  and when asked what he thought of it he said :

“ Well .. it just goes on and on and on  .. ‘

.. a deliberation from the Hindi word AAN .. to ON  .. phonetically similar .. when spoken in that deliberate American accent .. 

.. Mehboob Saheb , who was English challenged, turned to Dilip Saheb and asked :

‘kya bola ye ..?’

Dilip Saheb in his gentlest replied .. ‘ usne kaha , picture thodi lambi hai ..’!!

Mehboob Saheb , a man of great personal wealth of talent and pride in his creativity - he has been one of our greats - did not waste a minute after hearing this , wrapped up the film reels from the projection room and walked out and back to Bombay , India ..

..’isko kya samajh hai ..?’  was his eventual refrain apparently .. which I must admit has been the obvious refrain from most western film makers, who still chide or remark obtusely, on the non realistic fantasised film making from this part of the World .. which I must also admit has undergone a sea change in the past several years .. but yes the chide and the ‘not to be taken seriously’ comment remains .. until .. until .. until ..

THE ECONOMY OPENED UP .. 

.. and India with its 1.3  billion ‘buyers’ capability struck like lightning the foreign western capitalist powers that be .. and suddenly INDIA became ‘not such a bad place after all’ .. 

it was no more the land of the ‘fakir’ and the ‘snake charmers’ .. it was the ‘consumer potential’ land of the New Frontier .. 

.. suddenly India gets projected as the new economic power within the next 5 years  .. among the top 3 of the World .. 

.. and Hollywood starts to release its films at times on the same day as in the rest of the World - an unheard of phenomena earlier - in most of the prominent dubbed languages of the Country ..

At a YPO event in Mumbai some years back, where I was invited as the Chief Guest - a designation I hate - when the programme was thrown open to the guests in the hall of about 500, to ask questions or any queries they had for me ..  one stood up quite bravely and asked :

“ when is Bollywood going to make a film like Hollywood  ?”

I replied .. ‘when is Hollywood going to make a film like the Indian Film Industry ..’ 

RAPTUROUS APPLAUSE AND CHEERING .. 🤣🤣🤣

.. that kind of summed up the evening .. 

.. and it kind of sums up this evening too .. early morning call for work , to work on film that makes India proud .. and hopefully the rest of the World 

good night .. shubh ratri .. 🙏🙏

Amitabh Bachchan