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memory-of-deross · 1 year ago

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Hey Homesick, have you got a cake for Aging yet?

✦ Under the cut due to length!

It was abruptly, in the early hours of the day, when Homesick awoke startled in his cabin as the rhythmic rocking of the ship he had come to travel in had halted— the shifting of what little items he had packed for the trip scattered across the small room coming to their own pause. The man’s breath hitched as he remained clung onto the covers he’d draped himself with to stave off the chilly airs of the sea, having to turn onto his side just to gaze out with blurred eyes of vivid lights than were more lively than the moons own; they had all arrived at yet another island, called to rest, stretch their legs, or do as they would by the Swallow. Truthfully, he had always struck the novelist as a rather more strange companion throughout the days he was set to sail for the special occasion, perhaps it was just the nature of weariness of the tides rubbing off onto someone who was familiar with it as the only company at times, but even as he had made himself proper and with his briefcase in hand, finding himself glancing over at the Swallow’s fanatics of a bow to entertain the other travelers picked up along the way— there was just something about him that made his stomach twist.

Yet…

No. Homesick shook his head, the movement slightly sluggish from having just been woken up. He was too far gone from his home now to be left to brood about the things that were only possibility at best, he had managed to leave the island— the waters around it already rather testy as rumors from the haunted few— with the Swallow’s help only, and it was only with him that he would be able to return, and he needed to return, if not for himself, then for the two people who may as very well have folded the heart of his own with how much he felt their presence linger even now, the wind that brushed along his slightly shaking hands from the coldness of this particular morning almost akin to their own touch along it. A soft sigh came about from his musings. As much as any past trips were for the stories or tales that he wished to portray almost as much so as they were in actuality with ink at his hand, this one was being done for something that ink would never quite do justice on so much as the memories and lives themselves— it was for his Sunshine, after all, and though he could not nor would likely ever be able to offer her gold bore in his hands, he would offer her the world now through tales upon tales and everything it would have for her, something so vast that her hands would eventually grow to hold. They had now to be able to hold a slice of cake. Oh, his daughter was going to be ten.

And to say he was merely elated or overjoyed was an utter understatement. Over the years, Homesick had found himself at the mercy of storms on more than one occasion, it was only inevitable, but he’d remember it well every time the clouds had retreated into a darkness that poured onto the boat. None of them had ever grown to develop into such a severity that he’d been thrown onto the border between life and death, and though he never was much a man of faith, he’d folded his hands together nonetheless into a prayer and comfort spoken— and the watching the light that shed every time even if only partly… it was the thing that would keep him going, as with Aging’s own light, the sunlight of his own rainy days. His lips couldn’t help but quirk into a small at the amusement that could be sought from it all; surely, to others, he was only being dramatic and waxing sentiment with his words, and as silly as it would be, it was the only way he could suppose to express just how he felt, even in the pleasant disbelief of it all.

His free hand had already taken well to the golden key that hung around his neck as he shuffled through the walkways of the town, walking with much more prep in his steps than he’d have before, a keen eye on the windows of the buildings he’d pass by for any pastries on display as a sign. The Swallow had his own duties to fulfill elsewhere, so Homesick was left on his to scout out any possible bakeries within the island. The people he’d found along the way were more than understanding, kind, even, in entertaining his inquiries, and encouraged him to talk more. He always more than welcomed it himself when they did, it was his own self indulgence at the end of it all to reminisce, especially with the upcoming birthday of his daughter. The time hardly felt like it’d pass much to him, remembering when she was still so small in his arms, and here she was now— a young girl with nothing but a bright future ahead of her.

Homesick would only hope that he’d be around to see such a future play out, though. His cheeriness throughout the day had dwindled slightly more as with the hours of the day the more he’d come to the realization— there wasn’t anything or anyone on the island who offered the sort or was willing, especially not what he’d been specifically searching for. He’d have felt guilty if he’d shown his disappointment much for all the assistance and help from the residents coming up with little in the end, so he’d had grin and bear it, his tone much more deflated by that point though.

“Ah.. is.. is.. that so? I understand. Thank you so much for everything though, I hope you fare much better than I am.” The latter half bore no malice, it was only a lighthearted and truthful wish— he was grateful.

As the sun melted into the sea not too far into swirls of orange and red, the novelist had stumbled off towards a wooden bench, his body slumping against it with a sigh. He’d have to report his findings to The Swallow, wherever the man was to be found; it only made his head lower slightly, ashamed. He’d not want to be a further bother to anyone, but it was just that.. this had to be perfect for a blessing like Aging, he’d not return empty handed. Maybe it was a bit selfish, then, but what trouble would it be when it came to her? Homesick leaned back, fallen deep into thought. A memory stirred in those quiet moments— from the day he had departed and seen off by Awaiting.

Remember, her favorite is chocolate.

His face was held dearly by Awaiting, standing on docks that had seen better days and surrounded by clouds that wrapped the blue skies, her voice leaving a gentle reminder that he’d taken to heart with many of them from even before.

Got it.

He wouldn’t forget. How could he when it was the very thing driving him now? And, it would continue to do so, maybe for just a bit more longer but… he would come back just in time all the same. And if he could so much as bring a fraction of Aging’s smile to life, it would have all been worth it, and he’d do it again and again. The flowers of hope that blossomed did not disappear, only withering a bit, and all it took was a bit of that sunshine to let them thrive once more.

…

Later on, when he had to return to the ship, speaking to a curious Swallow.

“A cake for my daughter? Ah, I’m afraid.. not yet, I’ve no luck here nor anywhere, really, but..” The man paused, humming. “.. It will only be a matter of time, surely. What harm would keeping my hopes up do? I will have my home eventually, and my daughter, the birthday she deserves.

That’s quite enough for me.”

#✦ (the pen lifts yet again. ask answered)#🗝️ (sea bound folds of the heart. homesick)#( if some wording in this sounds ironic due to future events. it is intentional. 🫶 )#( fun fact! the ‘remember her favorite is chocolate’ convo is referenced from a friend/lupis doodles… ty for those still lupi 💕)

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zorthania · 5 months ago

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A piece about survivors guilt.

This comic isn't perfect. I started it back in October 2023, and every time I picked up my pen, I wept.

I bring this to you today, on 9/11, in hopes that you reflect on this day a little differently than how most Americans would. Let it move you to continue to boycott, protest and challenge your family, friends and colleagues. You have a bigger impact than you would believe.

Thank you for reading this with an open heart.

From the river to the sea...

I'd like to bring to attention the fact that the figures depicted above are a gross undercount of the actual number of deaths. I scoured the internet high and low to source my findings and not a single one could break down the devastation that befell an individual ethnicity. Instead, they lumped a bunch of ethnicities together, provided a general timeline, and called it a day, reinforcing the sheer scale of dehumanization propagated in the west. The only consistency between all the articles I looked up was the 4.5 to 4.7 million figure I've included above, and even then, they were all published by western media news outlets... the very same that have been so unreliable and complicit in the genocide of Palestinians today. So I have to take everything they say with a grain of salt.

We are not just numbers.

All of us have ambitions and desires and lives worth living.

With that said, this is your friendly reminder to:

Donate an e-sim

Donate to PCRF to provide Palestinian children aid

Donate to Pious Projects to provide woman with feminine hygiene kits

Donate to CareForGaza to provide food to displaced families in Gaza either through their Gofundme or their paypal

Donate to any of the vetted gofundme campaigns on GazaFunds to help Palestinians trying to flee Gaza.

And if you or someone you know sees or experiences a hate crime and can afford it, SUE. This is a more effective use of your money than most realise. The reason zionists act with impunity is because of the normalization of white supremacy and oppression of ethnic minorities. Challenging that in any capacity tells them that there are consequences to their actions and makes them think twice before engaging in hate crimes and helps raise all of us up against the systems currently in place that let them get away with it.

If you can't donate or spend any money, you can:

Do your daily clicks.

Boycott targeted companies on the BDS list (if you're like me and you don't want a single dollar to go towards anything supporting Israel right now, you can use Bdnaash to double check what products are okay to buy, but the BDS list is sufficient as it is a strategic attack and proven very effective thus far)

Flood your representatives emails and voicemails with how you won't be voting for them unless their politics align with an immediate ceasefire in Gaza.

Attend a protest, be LOUD.

Challenge your circle of friends, family and colleagues with conversations about Palestine. (THIS IS THE MOST UNDERRATED AND MOST EFFECTIVE THING YOU CAN DO)

and if you're really up to, be disruptive in any capacity that you can think of towards major corporations benefiting from this onslaught. (i.e. halting military manufacturers from production + shipments, sticking boycott stickers on products at your market etc)

And finally, if your country wasn't mentioned in the above excerpt, it was no deliberate omission on my part and I encourage you to come forward and tell your story about the suffering of your people so that this may be a learning opportunity for everyone.

You are seen.

You are not alone.

Thank you again if you've read this far.

From the river to the sea...

#palestine #gaza #9/11 #hytham #basim ibn ishaq #my art

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yandere-wishes · 2 months ago

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⭒ㅤׂ Do You Think We'll Be In Love Forever? ㅤׂ ⭒

⭒⌒★ Yandere!DC Men x Reader ★⌒⭒

゜。♡ 𝓌𝒽𝑒𝓃 𝓉𝒽𝑒𝒾𝓇 𝓁𝑜𝓋𝑒 𝓉𝓊𝓇𝓃𝓈 𝒾𝓃𝓉𝑜 𝑜𝒷𝓈𝑒𝓈𝓈𝒾𝑜𝓃 ♡ ｡゜

𓆩☾𓆪 Nightwing - Dick Grayson | بالشب - دیک ��ریسون

He's mesmerized by the sight of you between his arms. Definite little doll smiling up at him through tear-soaked eyes. He floods your essence with saccharine kisses, sweet vows, and anguished 'I love yous' all paying testimony to his sugar-laced obsession. He's desperate to taste your sweetness on his tongue, lick through your flesh like a lollipop, and unravel your bones with his teeth.

He had been so young once, chasing virtue and strength into every dark alleyway, following bats and hope into vicious nights. Back then, he hadn't understood his mentor's desperation for paper-thin kisses and phony love. But now feeling the push of your body beneath his fingertips makes him understand how satisfying real love can be. To observe you in the sun's gentle rays. To feel your body curled next to his on cold nights. He plays hero under the moon's watchful gaze only to return home to you upon daybreak.

❀࿔ Red Hood - Jason Todd | نقاب قرمز - ��یسون تاد

He glides your fingers across his scars, shuddering under the weight of your touch. Stardust cauterizes ancient wounds, licking away the rotten grime. Jason clenches his teeth, there's something so intimidating about the softness of your touch. It stings worse than any crowbar or bullet wound, intruding, harrowing. It's almost like you're plucking the constellations of his past from under his skin, trying to rearrange the stars into something cathartic.

He can't help the hapless way his nails scratch across your bones, the gurgling laugh that escapes his throat. You're Elizabeth Lavenza and Ophelia trying to mend a broken boy, with your wry smile and terrified eyes. Jason traces his lips across yours, his kiss is ravenous, frantic. Faux-hero desperate for an inkling of love, of bliss, of softness.

´ཀ` Arkham Knight - Jason Todd | سلحشور آرکام - جیسون تاد

He likes to think he's shed his human skin long ago. Left it to die in that burning warehouse with his old mask and youth. But when he hears your laughter, that haunting echo reverberates off the edifice walls. He can't help but think maybe, just maybe a trace of humanity still lingers beneath his armor. Your smile glares at him in every carmine puddle he treks through. He dreams it's your blood marring his gauntlets, syrupy sweet as he licks them clean. Daydreams about your ethereal face painted in reds and purples by his iron-clad hands.

His kisses are razor blades cutting through your lips, forcing his love down your throat, and watching as you choke on the rust and ache. He's trying to merge two bodies into one void, to engulf you. Mirror his scars upon your flesh with dull knives and jagged fingernails. He kisses you again, you swear you're going to drown in his sea of red. Maybe that's all the love he has left. He

｡♦｡ Red Robin - Tim Drake | رابین قرمز- تیم دریک

He plays hero in the night, little bird chasing villains and evil by moonlight. When he blinks it's you he sees lying on the couch watching TV. He's starting to think you're his favorite show, afterall your window is about the size of a flat-screen TV and he's always too eager to peak through for the next screening. Episode 84, you're hugging your favorite teddy bear, lost in euphoria as your knuckles turn white around the controller. Tim watches heart in his throat as you claw out the boss's eyes. Sanctimonious champion vying to save the holy princess.

Tim bites his fingers, addresses each tooth mark to you. He pens his love letters upon his own skin, sealing them in red when he finally punctures through. Maybe life is just a video game, an endless kaleidoscope of cutscenes. And he's just a besotted hero dying to kiss the precious princess who doesn't even know he exists.

ꨄ︎ Robin - Damian Wayne| سینه‌سرخ - دامیان وین

His heritage pounds between his bones. The deja vu of an ancestral lifetime runs rapid through his veins as he chases you across the rooftops. His father, his mother, his brothers, always chasing, running after things they know they'll never reach. Your blades clash against his and Damian can't help but wonder if this is the closest he'll ever get to kissing you.

You leave him with paper cuts that feel like venom, like saying 'I love you' while chewing on his bones. He ponders, does his father have the same scars, if Damian pulled away Bruce's skin what would he find? Kittycat claws and dragon bites engraved in the nth-wielded ivory. He feels legacy clawing at his throat as he pictures your fingers between his teeth. Tears blooming in your eyes as he uses diamonds and ceremonial knives to engrave his name upon your flesh. Dotting the I with a heart and entwining each letter. God, he's so tired of being lonely...

🦇 Batman - Bruce Wayne | بتمن - بروس وین

He can't help but pick you apart, chip away at the bones and flesh until he reaches your essence. Dissecting your heart with his tongue and savoring the ichor between his teeth. He's the world's greatest detective and yet he can't unravel his own ardor. This mania, this addiction festering within his crux gnawing at his sanity until every thought is consumed by the cadence of your voice and the stars scintillating in your big doe eyes. This desperate need burning inside of him are you really divinity? Will you bleed glod, if he tears you apart with his teeth?

You're so ethereal squirming beneath, kicking and screaming vying desperately for freedom. He's fought this love for far too long, tried to preserve you in the light. Cover your eyes and ears and make you forget about the monsters that roam in the dark. But he can't not anymore, maybe he never could. Maybe the only way he knows how to love is by trickling his darkness like nectar between your lips and watching as it paints you in his shades.

ᯓ★ Superman - Clark Kent | سوپرمن - کلارک کنت

His kisses melt into your skin sweet like molten sugar drizzled on jasmine rice. Like lava smothering roses, leaving a trail of fragranced ashes. Clark smiles and he notices how you cover your eyes. Like you're staring directly into the sun. Like you're scared of being burnt. Clark can't help but bury his head in the crock of your neck, inhaling your ather. Molten roses and floral ashes he likes the amalgamate of your scents. Like how his presence lingers upon you.

He holds you like a doll, like the little straw dolls his mother used to make. It's easy to be gentle, coddling when everything is so fragile compared to you. He kisses down your neck, your jaw, nuzzling his nose into your soft skin, trying to earn a giggle a gold star. Trying to wipe the fear from your eyes. He kisses you again, mumbling cloying words between your lips, wishing he could just push his love between your fragile bones.

˚✶˚ Superboy - Conner Kent | سوپربوی - کانر کنت

He's fighting back the urge to peel your heart from between your ribs. To trail kisses across it and marr his lips with your ether. He wonders if your heart beats as frantically as his. He wonders if your ribs rattle when he enters a room.

He wants to push little superboy earings into your ears, to lay upon you the piercings he could never have. It'll be his way of telling the world you belong to him, that you belong to Superboy. And yet he settles for draping his leather jacket across your shoulders when senses a shiver run up your spine. He settles for the friendly hugs and airy hello-kisses. He wants to say he's he loves you. he can't. It's all so annoying, tasting the dead words on his tongue.

𓂃✮ Superman - Jon Kent | سوپرمن - جان کنت

He's scaping his nails along the Hershey's kisses re-aligning the red blue and gold wrapping. It'll be obvious, right? If he leaves them in your locker you'll understand the colored metaphor you'll answer the question he can never ask. You'll know it's him, everyone always does, for the byproduct of the world's greatest hero, he's terrible at keeping his identity a secret.

He blames it on the legacy flooding his lungs. On the promises that beat in his blood. He's born to be a hero, to play the role of savior, but aren't heroes promised love too? Aren't they meant to save the girl from burning skyscrapers and crumbling sidewalks, to fly above the skyline and kiss her in tune with the setting sun? He's so desperate for the sweet fairytale ending, so desperate to kiss the girl who always knows just what to say. He leaves the chocolate in your locker before making a dent in the metal door.

˚｡⋆🪙⋆ ˚｡ Two Face - Harvey Dent | دو چهره - هاروی دنت

He can taste your pain on his tongue, swallow the barbed wire, and relish in the familiar sting of hope, expectation, responsibility. Maybe that's why he can't stop himself from chasing after you. Burning the world demanding you stop him, desperate for a silver of your deficit attention. God, you're so ethereal with his gun aimed at your head, his pretty little girl with big starry eyes laced with dread as they follow the cascade of his coin. 'I know' he wants to scream 'I know what it feels like' but the words never quite spill out that way. And Harv only laughs at his foolish attempts to play hero once more. Sanctimonious bastard, the words reverberate in his skull.

You may claim to be a hero but Two-face knows you'll fall, plunder to the ground like all the rest, that's what happens when you reach for the sky, deem yourself Icarus, and let the flames of glory engulf you until there's nothing left. 'You can't save them' Harv screams only for Harvey to hear. They want to get closer, to slip the coin between your lips and make you taste defeat, maybe then you'll understand why he's so keen on fighting you out of your crusade. Maybe then you'll take their hand willingly, letting them sprinkle kisses across your knuckles like dying stars.

˙⋆☠︎︎⋆˙ Black Mask - Roman Sionis | نقاب سیاه - رومن سیونیس

He wants to cut out your big heart and sink his teeth into it, engrave himself in every vein, and chew on the heartstrings. HIM he needs to be the only one in that plushie heart of yours. The only one with the right to be graced by your ethereal smile. He wants to awaken to your soft nimble fingers tracing hearts and stars across his chest. Pretty pink lips weaving feathery kisses across the scar of his pacemaker. Giggles tickling his neck as you bid him 'good morning' in that all too cheery voice of yours.

Roman almost moans as he hears his name spill from your mouth, each letter cradled carefully between your lips he can't help but want to push his thumb inside your mouth, to feel your purity and shock. There's so much he wants to call you so much he wants to whisper in your ear as he watches your cheeks glow red. To hold you in his lap and trail his fingers across your legs, to dress you in pretty dresses and short skirts and skin-tight tops. To taste the fear and dread on your tongue palpable like the blood he draws with every kiss.

༄✩༄ Scarecrow - Jonathan Crane | مترسک - جاناتان کرین

He likes the stars in your eyes, the mini constellations spelling out your greatest fears. The tears blooming in the corners of your dopey eyes have his lips twitching. You're so gorgeous like this, curled up on the floor trying to make sense of such an eerie world. Jonathan doesn't anoint himself a fool, he knows it's chimeric to think that you'd love him without the toxin, without the heavy drugs he's spilled into your veins. That's why he keeps you like this, scared and depressed. Always in need of him.

What's your greatest fear? He wonders when you tuck your head between your knees and sob all so quietly as to not disturb him. Is it him you see in your grandest nightmares? Is it the mask jumping at you from within the darkness, or is it Professor Crane abandoning you in such a macabre world? Mask on mask off it makes no difference. He just hopes he's the star of every nightmare, as long as you fear him as much as he fears losing you.

｡??｡ Riddler- Edward Nygma| ریدل - ادوارد نیگما

It's frivolous to think he will not solve this riddle. That he will no unearth this plague you have bestowed upon him. This fixation, this obsession, he needs to understand you, to peel away your skin and glimpse at your inner clock workings. To undo your screws one by one and find out what exists between that haunting laugh and those knowing vicious eyes. To rip apart your wires, and feed upon your mind. To understand, he needs to understand you.

He got close once when he had your neck under his shoe, but the evil lith of your laughter rings across the room and he'd be lying if he said he wasn't unnerved. He doesn't know what question to ask first. 'what have you done to me'? 'why do you think you're better than me?', 'Why don't you love me?' Instead, the silence shatters with your voice, proud melody rivaling his own, your eyes lock on him and he can't suppress his shutter. "Well Eddie, riddle me this. What can kill any man, but isn't even alive itself?"

⁺♡⁺ Deathstroke - Slade Wilson | مرگ سکته - اسلید ویلسون

You're like a shooting star, dancing across the night as you stalk his latest kill. Little asssasin, you know your stuff but he finds your thirst for ineage and morality both exhausting and honorable. Most people grow up and spit out their morals with blood and broken teeth. Let the world's cruel realities claw and gnaw at their skin until it's hardened enough to survive. He's yet to see you extend such a courtesy to the world, makes him think that pulling the trigger on you would be some sort of mercy. Bullet through the heart leaving your body coated in his essence and one final kiss pressed onto your paling lips.

He dosen't notice the inkling of you rattling around in his brain until he realizes that this is the eighth him he's seen you smile at the end of his barrel. Pretty little girl chasing after morals and sand, hoping to escape the endless night by spilling just a little more guilty blood. You look like some sort of ethereal doll, immortal in your innocence and vicious in your virtues. He can respect that, truly but Slade isn't naive enough to think you have what it takes to survive. Maybe that's why he wants all so badly to feed you his victim's hearts and eyes and livers, to push them past your pretty lips, staining them the deepest red. Watching your delicate throat constrict as you swallow everything he gives you. Reveling in the sensation of your greedy little tongue swirling around his fingers licking up the access gore. Can almost picture your smile and stupid little head tilt as you thank him for the 'candygrams'.

⭑.ᐟ Respawn | احیا

Respawn drowns in his love. Pulling apart his heart to lay at your feet. It's all he's ever known, broken boy built to harvest spare parts. But you don't look at him like that, you don't even look at him like an assassin. No, you smile fondly as you nuzzle his neck with your nose. You look at him the way his father used to, like he's actually worth something more. He's never quite kissed you, he's not even sure he knows how. Instead, he holds you close to his chest making sure you hear the dull patter of his jagged heart.

He's born from greatness, left to rot in the dark. He refuses to play pawn, anymore. So maybe that's why, when he finally kisses you -with all the grace of a schoolboy's first kiss- it's so desperate and erratic, clumsily licking your lips and nicking his tongue along your teeth trying to think what his father would do. His fingers dig into your arms, preassing prayers into your flesh, screaming 'Don't leave me, you're all I have left'.

⭑☽ Ghost-Maker - Minhkhoa "Khoa" Khan | روح ساز - مینه خوا "خوا" خان

There's nostalgia in your essence, in your presence, something he can never wash away. He's grown addicted to the erratic reverbate of your pulse between his teeth. Kissing the bites he leaves marring your perfect body.

Why can't you just love him, let him haunt your every thought, and erode those pesky creeds, until he is the only thing you'll ever need? Khoa hates to admit it but he sees something in you, something so reflective of the little boy laying in the sand of the gobi desert, shooting phantom bullets and mocking stars. You scream every time he kisses you, recoil your tongue, and cry at the bitterness sweeping in. But Khao loves the challenge, the fight, loves forcing you into submission, even as your knife digs between his ribs. He's only ever content when your pith floods his mouth and your melodic voice rings through his ears. His precious little princess tucked away between his arms forever.

☾⋆ Phantom-one | روح یک

he never shows you his face. He blames it on his upbringing too used to old rules that he can never escape their clutches not even for you. His kisses are always clouds dancing across your skin, so light and airy they may as well be the wind. But tries to leave traces of himself with every kiss. Desperate pleas for you to look at him, to touch him, to love him back. All so he knows he's alive, still real enough to love.

He's always trapped between the land of the living and the realm of the deceased. Always so gentle with the love he's stolen, so careful to not break his lover, as his mentor did to him. He laces his fingers through your hair, sucks gently on the length of your neck, all while pushing 'I love yous' into your soul, marking you as his forever.

🎀𖹭🎀 : @your-yandere-kiss @fancyfeathers @yandere-writer-momo @nxdxsworld @lilyalone @neverano @natsukicookies @googeecat44 @starrydollita @mune-writes @a4g3lstarfire @yourhornysister @froggy-voidd @rissareader @6helpneeded9

@blacklunardice @princesstrunkz @mona1704 @testification

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sxorpiomooon · 19 days ago

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What kind of person are you truly? The good and the bad - a pac reading

for the days when you feel like no one knows or truly understands who you truly are, including yourself<3

Paid readings

tip me

Pile 1-

What's up with you guys and the number four? Were some of you also attracted to the fourth pile or what? Washing machine heart comes to my mind but I said heart? These people might love talking about love and might be interested in philosophy as well. Do you guys like nail paint? This pile is very feminine, even for the ones that feel like they are not you are trust me. You guys might have a good venus placements? Perhaps libra I'm not getting much pisces but could be cancer as well. You guys are calm and compassion "hold me, console me" played in my head I said heart again instead of head. You guys might love the sea? You guys also like cinnamon girl by lana del rey. Do you enjoy juices or perhaps coffee? I heard "I can bring others happiness without sacrificing my own" and honestly please do learn that. Stop making unnecessary sacrifices that are not needed stop pulling yourself in the front of a train. You don't have to be the one in the front of the bullet every time. Oo you guys like good shoes and I think they'll suit you well. You are calm and comforting providing comfort to way more people that you know while constantly being hanged on by a thread yourself oohoo start sewing or crocheting you guys might be good heard gemini perhaps bc it's done via your hands. People also see you as an "ideal feminine woman" btw alot of girls around you might want to be like you. Do you guys like winters or mufflers hahahahhaha. You are someone who likes to hype other people ho do you like concerts? Someone passionate and determined I saw an ink pen and jo march. You have a spark in you and remember no matter how much other people might try to steal it it will remain yours no matter what.

Pile 2-

OOO this is the pile of our high achievers and ambitious people the ivy league and the pile that is on the top. You guys like to be aware of everything happening around you I keep seeing a newspaper you keep in touch with all the news and buzz around you. Very quick to notice eyes and body movements lmao. You like to be two steps ahead of everyone I see you living your life very dramatically hahah bc it adds twist. This pile has people with very very high standards and that want to and will make it very big. You guys are constantly building yourself up and levelling yourself up via your skills. Constantly learning to be at the top and never lose their position I keep hearing ceos and all that. You guys love to have titles in front of your names might have capricorn or virgo asc in their d10 or I'm seeing sun rahu conjunction or something. Wants to be at the top and will be at the top. I see these guys being winners public opinion also matters you alot in a way that you want everyone to see your success and clap for you and so they will. You guys want to be at the authority this might piss alot of you but y'all might be like your father's like him started playing. You guys might have control issues and might start acting up/tweaking when you lose it. Stop ignoring other aspects of life

Pile 3-

I thought of the word "therapist" before I pulled the cards and looking at the cards y'all need to talk to one instead of being one<3 to start with the good you guys are brilliant leaders and bring happiness whenever you go. It's like a street filled with unhappy people will be happy and bought to joy if we send you there. You have the ability to make things and people work. You have the ability to make things feel hopeful and have people wishing of the best even when they almost gave up. You are able to hype other people ho and sort of bring them hope. You are sucessful and some of you might have good family backgrounds as well privileged in some manner? Alot of respect or authority is just handed to you I heard resources? This pile has people that are OBSESSED with working not because you like it or something bc this is just something that happens to you naturally. You don't know how to never not work. You also might sometimes be obsessed with the luxurious things not because tou like it but because you want to show off or like prove it to other people? I think some of you didn't have these luxuries growing up so now when you are capable of having them you own them even when they bring you no happiness. This pile has alot of unresolved traumas and a emotional baggage. This pile might have or will have to leave alot behind to get in this position. Honestly I feel like this is not who you are currently but this is the future you. I feel like this reading is for the people who just need to hear that they will be okay and they will make all their big dreams that seem unreachable or unattainable to other people come true. I'm rooting for you my pile 3

Pile 4-

you might forget things while speaking or thinking only your mind might get foggy? This pile might be struggling with some of their issues alone I'm seeing face acne but could be any other issue that you are insecure about. You guys sort of choose to deal and suffer alone. I heard "void" and a song that translates to "please don't go like this" keeps playing in my head might be scared of getting left by people or might have the fear that they will never be known and loved for who they truly are. But how would you even know that when you will never reveal or let other people see who you truly are? in order to be loved for who you truly are you must first reveal to other people who you truly are. This pile feels ashamed to ask others for help. This pile might like lip gloss/lipstick or might look good in them. It's crazy how they deal with their problems and issues alone because all and everyone's eyes are always on them. Everyone is always looking at you and all the eyes are always on you. My pile four, you shine so bright and I think you do know this but I don't think you are able to truly grasp how much bright you shine. It's like if you are in a room full of people there is only you in front of people's eyes. And this is not something that's romantic but something that there just is. You are truly charming and enchanting. Your presence demands to be looked at and be appreciated. You make people feel hopeful and look at the bright side. You can find the light for other people even in the darkest of the streets. A true poetic by heart naturally filled with the desire to create and articulate. It's very tragic how everyone's always looking at you yet you are so lonely and alone. I heard poetic again and saw a dove? You will find your match my pile four. You will find the love and light that you give to others. Fourth of July by sufjan stevens started playing. You guys might like the piano too.

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theresattrpgforthat · 3 months ago

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Mint's TTRPG Library

Here is a list of links to the Collections I add Itch.io games to on the regular, where I often go to in search for games to meet folks' recommendation requests.

These collections are large and unwieldy. I'm not certain that they're easy to navigate, but if you want to do some browsing, you certainly have options!

Systems

Belonging Outside Belonging Breathless Caltrop Core Charge Descended from the Queen Firebrands Forged in the Dark Honey Games (Honey Heist) Into the Odd Lasers + Feelings LUMEN Par-AGON (Paragon System) PbtA Push Together We Go Troika (A bunch of Troika supplements) Tunnel Goons (AKA Goon Games) What’s So Cool About _?

Genre

Adventure - With Pulp! (Westerns, Dinosaurs, Spies, Time Travel) Bittersweet Futures (Post-Apocalypse) Botanical Adventures (Plants) Bring Me The Evidence! (Mysteries) Cogs and Steam (Steampunk) Delicious Delights (Food & Cooking) Dirtpunk (Revolution, Rebellion, Fighting) Eras Both Real & Imagined (Historical, Faux-Historical) Everyone Loves A Competition (Competitions, Sports) Fae and Fen (Faeries & Goblins) Fangs, Fangs, Fangs (Vampires) Grim & Gritty (Gritty & Grimdark Fantasy) Hearts & Threads (Romance) Manners & Mischief (Social & Political) Mechs and Tech (Mechs & Robots) Modern-Day Mishaps (Modern-Day Setting) Monsters & Mutants (Monsters, Monster Hunters, Pokemon - simulators) Neon Lights & Cyber Nights (Cyberpunk) Oh So Anime (Anime & Manga themed) Paranormal Activity (Ghosts, Cryptids, Death) Pastoral & Cozy (Cozy Games, Witch Games) Paws and Feathers and Scales (Animals) Sorcerous Intentions (Magic-Users) Stars and Science (Science-Fiction, Space) Sword & Sorcery & So Much More (General Fantasy) Teenage Hijinx (Teenagers) The Sea Calls (Oceans, Aquatic, Pirates) With Great Power (Superheroes, Magical Girls, Fantasy Superpowers)

Other

Abstract Games & System Bones (SRDs, Genre-less) By Pen and Paper Played (Epistolary Games) Funky Fresh Flavors (Miscellaneous) GM-Less Solitary Adventures (Solo Games) System-Neutral Settings (Adventures & Settings) The Art of Creation (Collaborative World-building) Two Can Play At That Game (Duet Games)

#mint speaks #tabletop games #indie ttrpgs

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undeadmagick · 9 months ago

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Broke Boy Guide to Altar Offerings

Hey! Are you broke but still wanna offer something up to the gods? Don't worry! (So am i) So here's a guide of things that are either free, low cost or that you probably already own to slap onto those altars. Mind you: These are mainly modern offerings that I attribute to these different classification of gods. I'll likely update as time goes on with other classifications :)

General Offerings to Deities:

random flowers from outside

random sticks from outside

hand written letters/prayers

plushies of the animals they're connected to

raw/cooked meats as "sacrifices"

drawn symbols

Art/Creative Deities:

symbol painted bottle caps

pens/pencils/markers

old sketchbooks

stickers/prints

origami

comic books

figurines

Death Deities:

bones or meat from your meals

dirt from a dead plant

dying flowers

skull imagery

coins or other gifts for those passing

photo/belongings of your late loved ones

Familial/Household/Protector of Children Deities:

photobooth photos

jewelry gifted from family

baby teeth from your children

breast milk

old baby shoes

framed photo of family

cookies/bread

homecooked meals

Fire Deities:

birthday candles

charcoal discs

burnt herbs

alcohol

incense

tobacco

matchbox/lighter

Healing Deities:

your current medications

bandaids

water

skincare

vitamin gummies

spell jar in an empty pill bottle

Knowledge/Wisdom Deities:

old books & textbooks

pens/pencils

mini chess pieces

written down philosophical quotes

good test scores/report cards/degrees

Love/Lust Deities:

origami 3D hearts

chapsticks

unused makeup

love letters to deities

love letters about S/O or crush

current perfume/cologne

current lotions

apples

Nature Deities:

plants dedicated to them

herbal tea packets

feathers

milk

fruits/vegetables

spells using recycled materials (toilet paper rolls, etc.)

bread

acorns

Sea Deities:

beach sand

shells

sea water

tiny sea animal figurines

shared fish dinners

makeshift spell jar using a shell

Trickster Deities:

laffy taffy joke wrappers

cards against humanity packs

other comedy card games

#deity work #paganism #deity worship #hellenic pagan #norse paganism #hellenic polytheism #pagan #helpol #pagan witch #heathenry #kemetic polytheism #kemetism #polytheism #celtic polytheism #norse polytheism #polytheist #altar offerings #deity offerings

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dark-moonlust · 8 months ago

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Tentacle Trouble PART 2: Breeding Mate

Pairing: Tentacle monster x human f!reader

Summary: Carrying your monster mate’s eggs is no simple task. You must be filled with his seed to nurture the eggs and your mate is more than eager to pound you to oblivion and fill you to the brim.

Warnings: minors don't interact, 18+!!!!, explicit tentacle smut, pregnancy kink, triple pen in mouth, pussy and ass, loads of come. Don’t like, don’t read.

Find the series here.

Living with your tentacled monster was easier than you’d expected. The days ever since your mating had become a blur of passionate moments and comforting touches. You were also fully pregnant, your mate’s eggs nestled safely within you. Your belly was round and heavy, making you waddle funnily —or incredibly cutely as your mate often praised. He could look at you like hours, gazing at your features and not get bored.

You couldn’t believe he loved you so much, yet it was all real. Your mate was a beast of the sea, yet he was caring, gentle and satisfied all your desires. You saw past his appearance and felt deeply connected to his heart.

A hand curving over your stomach, you swayed as you kicked the blankets and moved out of your cozy nest. You wore no clothes underneath; it was just you and your mate at the cave you were living together and you were never cold, your caring monster kept you warm and filled at all times.

The cave was silent and lit by the glow of bioluminescent algae on the walls. The gentle sound of the sea came from outside as you waddled through its passages. You’d woken up because your mate wasn’t there to embrace you. You were heavily dependent on him and the feel of his tentacles all around you. Pregnancy hormones drove you crazy daily, but your mate was more than eager to satisfy you in every way.

“Where are you, love?” you called out, a little tense. His absence was unsettling. He rarely left your side.

Right on time, you heard the soft slither of tentacles on stone. Sighing in relief, you rushed to him— as fast as your swollen belly would allow. You met him at the place that you’d redecorated as the living room. Your mate took most of the space, his body round and huge, surrounded by tentacles. His three eyes twinkled and when he saw you, lingering on your swollen breasts and belly. He slithered quickly to your side, tentacles reaching out to support you.

“I’m back, little one.” His voice was a soothing hum in your mind. “Did you miss me?”

“Hmm, I was worried,” you muttered, your lips quivering. Stupid hormones again.

A tentacle cupped your face. "Hush, don’t worry. I am here now. I had to find something special for you.”

Nuzzling into him, you glanced down and noticed the bundle he carried, wrapped in sea leaves. He gave it to you and you unwrapped the leaves to find a selection of fruit, sweets and other human snacks. Your heart swelled. He’d gone to find human food for you and from the sight of it, he’d risked his life.

“You went to find food for me?”

His voice touched your mind. "A friend of mine, a merman, often brings me human snacks from the land. I traded some pearls to get these for you."

Your eyes watered. “You are unbelievably sweet. Thank you.” You reached on your toes, caressing his slimy head. “Thank you so much, baby.”

Your mate didn’t mind to be affectionately called baby by you. On the contrary, you could shear he went more aroused each time you spoke his nickname so sweetly.

Immensely happy, you devoured the fruit and snacks and fortified yourself on the delicious chocolate. Your mate didn’t like human food and was content to have his tentacles all around you, caressing your belly soothingly. When you finished your meal, you sat back against him, a wave of contentment washing over you.

“Satisfied?”

“Hmm…” you smiled up at him, resting your hands atop the tentacles cradling your belly.

“The eggs keep pulsing,” he sensed. “They need to be nurtured.”

“Yes, need you, too…” you whined just as his limbs tucked you to sit close to his massive body, your back against his front. Slimy tentacles spiraled around your ankles, opening you up, baring your slick pussy. Trickles of cum escaped the puffed lips from when he’d fucked you earlier. Your mate feed you his seed in every way possible. The eggs required his essence in your system to grow healthy and strong.

Two more tentacles wrapped around your full tits, the tips of the appendages wetting and flicking your leaking nipples. Another tentacle teased your cunt, the tip rubbing the moist folds before breaching inside. A second one followed, helping spread your pussy so that his monstrous ridged cock could thrust up inside you. Holding you from your arms, your mate lifted you up and down on his shaft, driving deep.

You came with a sweet roar, your pussy seizing around him.

But that was only the beginning.

More slippery limbs slid up your body, placing you on all fours, ass propped into the air. From behind you, your mate’s appendages enfolded your belly and rubbed your poor little clit, sending waves of pleasure through you. A tentacle coaxed your mouth apart and slowly filled your mouth, stuffing you down to your throat. It leaked sweet nutritious essence down your throat.

You breathed steadily from your nose and whimpered when you felt another appendage poking your the tight bud of your ass. It was slightly smaller than his primary tentacle-cock but still twice as thick and long as a human cock. It breached the tight ring of muscle, the mushroom head lodging deep in your guts.

Whines and moans were wrenched from you when he began fucking all your three holes simultaneously. His cock pulled put from your pussy long enough for his other cock to rail your ass, while the tentacle down your throat filled your belly with sweet nutrients. The only sounds in the cave were those of your muffled cries and the lewd squelching of his tentacles as they thrust in and out of your body.

Pleasure heightened again as you started panting, hard for you to breathe with the tentacle thrusting down your throat. Your mate sensed that immediately and freed your mouth, just in time for you to take a deep inhale and let out a loud moan as you climaxed. Whining, sobbing and thrashing, you could only ride your orgasm and surrender to the furious pounding of his cocks claiming you.

Your mate let out a monstrous sound and his relentless thrusting finally stopped. Both cocks plunged as deep at they could go, exploding with a torrent of cum. They spurted and spurted for minutes, filling your holes to overflowing. His seed tricked down your shaking thighs and to prevent any more from spilling out, he lifted you to lie back against him, his cocks plugging his cum inside you.

“Fuckkk…” you muttered, blissfully-spent, eyes glazed. “Baby, I think you overdid it this time.”

You winced at the the amount of cum in your pussy and ass. It was too much and it made your belly swell even further. You felt like you carried a baby elephant.

“I’m sorry, little one. But you know I must keep my seed inside you for a while,” he told you. “It’s good for the eggs.”

You nodded. “Are the eggs alright?”

He hummed, his tentacles tracing abstract patterns across your swollen belly.

“More than alright. Our eggs are growing strong inside you. You did so well, my strong human,” he said in your mind, his voice filled with pride. “You let me fuck your pretty little holes and took my load like a good mate. Beautiful, you’re so beautiful and strong.”

“Love you,” you whispered, just before your eyes shut and you fell asleep.

“And I love you,” he replied, his tentacles weaving over you like a makeshift blanket to keep you warm and protected.

I hope you liked this! Follow and click to get notified when I update. I try to update weekly, sometimes even daily! Any kind of support is appreciated. Reblogging and comments even more so! 🖤

#tentacles x you #tentacles x female reader #tentacles x human #tentacles x reader #tentacles smut #tentacles monster x reader #monster x reader #monster x you #monster fucker #monster lover #monster x human #monster smut #monster x female reader #monster boyfriend #monster fudger #monster fuqqer #monster romance

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dragonthusiast · 2 years ago

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Merman Cozy Fantasy WIP Snippet

this book is turning very meta, I get why people make their MCs writers now, it's fun, though i won't do it often. It would lose its charm

“So, what did you think of my pornography?”

Ramos finally, finally, rolled his eyes, letting Kai take a deep breath. Back to normal for a bit at least.

“I…didn’t expect the characters to be so well developed.”

Kai immediately thought of turning this into a sex joke, but Rami would probably not appreciate that.

“Oh?”

Ramos nodded, his ears twitching as he frowned in thought. “I especially liked Lonriel.”

Kai tried not to chuckle at that. Yeah, a grumpy, moody merman who prefers to keep his own company does sound like someone Ramos would like, Kai would bet.

“And of course, your self-insert was very accurate to the real thing.”

Kai choked, not having expected that, especially not when paired with a little smirk on Rami’s face, but as soon as he recovered, he burst out laughing. “Hey now,” he said as he gasped for breath, “just because Teri is happy-go-lucky, incredibly good-looking, and infinitely charming, doesn’t mean he’s me.”

#writeblr #amwriting #original writing #creative writing #my writing #writers of tumblr #penned sea hearts #im just now realizing that i havent made an intro post for this book #i should get on that

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fear-is-truth · 3 months ago

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GUILTY PLEASURE — spencer reid x reader

˖˚⊹ 𝓙’s note: wrote this in a hurry, apologies for the rushed writing + english isn’t my first language .. content warning: prof!spencer x student!reader (in her early 20’s). smut

professor reid, who first noticed you as just another student. someone eager and sharp, with that gleam of curiosity he remembered from his own younger years.

he could see bits of himself in you, the way you’d lean forward, pen poised, eyes locked onto his every word as if his lecture held the secrets of the universe. he felt a faint swell of pride every time your hand shot up, answers always impressively well thought out. it’s hard to miss the spark of admiration in your eyes when you looked at him or when he called on you—traits he chose to see as mere enthusiasm for the subject.

sometimes, he’d catch you staring, your gaze dropping shyly when he looked back, leaving him with a weird mix of pride and shame. you weren’t the only one smitten for him, of course. nearly every woman in the class regarded him with that same starry-eyed admiration. still, spencer reminded himself that it was natural, just his mind latching onto familiarity, seeing a version of his younger self in you that felt both nostalgic and bittersweet. it made sense, he reasoned, that he’d be drawn to someone with similar traits. he didn’t dare entertain the thought that it might be something dangerously toeing the line of taboo.

over time, he started to feel a gravitational pull toward your presence that made him… justifiably uncomfortable. he started second-guessing his own motives, wondering if he was favoring you in ways he shouldn’t.

searching for you, through the sea of faces in his lectures. enchanted by the way sunlight hit your hair. your adorable little quirk of gnawing the end of your pen in deep thought. his heart beating a touch faster when you’d smile up at him, grateful for his feedback. the way he’d subconsciously tune into your reactions during his lectures, adjusting his delivery if he sensed you were confused, feeling an unexplainable satisfaction whenever he saw that beautiful “eureka” moment cross your face.

spencer saw flashes of his younger self in you.

he never would have guessed then, during those careful exchanges, that the controlled, ethical version of himself he clung to would slip. that he would be here, now, literally inside you.

the air is thick and heavy—reeking of the sweet, primitive scent of carnal desire. spencer’s shirt is half-unbuttoned, clinging to his skin, nearly transparent from the sweat that beads on his chest. the navy blue tie is long gone—discarded somewhere on the floor, forgotten. you crane your neck, lips parting slightly, desperately trying to get to him. you need him, more than you ever needed anything. fingers pulling him in by his hair, a low groan slipping from his throat as your tongue shoved its way unceremoniously into his mouth.

hand slips up to cradle the base of your skull, his fingers threading gently through your hair as he angles your head, deepening the kiss. you can feel his breath hitch as your tongues meet, and he presses forward, his body leaning over yours, guiding you back until your spine meets the hard surface of the desk.

your panties are a twisted mess—dangling limply around your right ankle as his fingers dig into the flesh of your thigh, securing you to the wooden surface that you’re so precariously perched on. a smooth, precise thrust hits the sweet spot within you that has your back arching and you swear you can hear vertebrate pop.

he’s buried so deep inside that you can feel every ridge and vein. every delicious twitch and throb against your walls.

you gasp at the feeling, the new closeness sending an euphoric thrill through you, and a soft sound escapes your kiss-bitten lips before you can stop it. spencer notices; like he always does. his grip falters, and with almost superhuman effort, he pulls back slightly, sweat-slicked forehead pressing against yours.

he mumbles a quiet, “i’m sorry,” like he’s still fighting with himself, knowing he’s finally crossed a line but can’t bring himself to stop. but then he’s leaning back in, lips finding yours again, hand slipping up your back, holding you as if he’s afraid you’ll pull away.

bad and wrong and twisted, but love has never felt so good.

#criminal minds #spencer reid #dr spencer reid #professor spencer reid #spencer reid smut #spencer reid angst #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fanfiction

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lale-txt · 2 months ago

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“But friends don’t look at each other like we do.”

Kuroo is right. But he shouldn’t say it.

You keep your eyes pinned on the essay in front of you, one hand of yours hazily brushing over your eyes to keep the tears from falling. At midnight, in the silence of the room, you can hear your own heart break, shatter even, but you’re holding it together. It’s what you’re good at, isn’t it? When everything inside of you is crumbling, you pick yourself up again, a puppet on a string dancing to the sound of the cries you never dare to let out.

Under the kotatsu Kuroo’s leg is touching yours and you’re afraid he’s gonna fade away too if you pull away. So you hold perfectly still, letting his warmth seep into you, dreaming of a life where the thought of being seen doesn’t make you want to run.

His hand reaches over the table, gently peeling the pen from your hand and putting it down on your scattered notes. Fingertips dancing from your palm to your wrist, his thumb rubbing small circles over your pulse point. The same spot where you once sprayed a perfume tester, quipping something about how perfume is to be worn where you want your lover to kiss you; and Kuroo who brought your wrist to his lips with a tenderness that almost made you cry. Idle hands wrapped around each other, unspoken promises of never letting go.

“Please.”

It’s the sound of Kuroo’s voice breaking, pleading, that draws your eyes back to him.

Please, look at me. Please, let this be love. Please, be gentle with my heart.

No, friends don’t look at each other like you do.

Not with this unfulfilled yearning in the vastness of his dark eyes, pupils blown out as his gaze lingers on you. Not with this hunger, the insatiable craving for something more than this, something bigger, something softer. Not with this paralyzing fear of letting go and inching closer, swaying around each other on tiptoes, never fully there but never fully gone either.

Kuroo slumps over the table with a heavy sigh, his eyes never leaving you. They never do. It’s like he’s drawn to you, the sea in love with the moon, a story as old as times. His fingers linger in your palm, idly tracing your heart line, as if your hands alone were proof enough that this love exists, that the stars aligned so you two could meet, against all odds.

“But I’m scared,” you confess, the words tumbling out of your mouth before you can swallow them down again. Your fingertips graze his hand, spelling out the word stuck in your throat, the one clawing its way out even though it feels too big to do so. It’s what you always do; tumbling and falling and bursting at the seams, all the love for him you can’t contain.

“Then let me love you scared. Love me till the fear unravels in your chest, making room for something new. Just… let me.”

Kuroo’s voice is merely a whisper, a husky vibrato under your skin. You try and hold it back, but your love is spilling out like ink on the paper, staining your red string of fate in pitch black. Maybe you can learn to love him in the dark, somewhere his eyes can’t find you, only your fingers intertwined. Never letting go.

#hq x reader #kuroo x reader #haikyuu x reader #kuroo tetsuro x reader #haikyuu reader insert #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu x gender neutral reader #hq x you #kuroo x you #hq reader insert #kuroo tetsurou

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merakiui · 3 months ago

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the symptoms of being human.

jade leech x (gender neutral) reader note - being human comes with its fair share of very specific symptoms. or: jade has lived in saltwater his entire life. never has it leaked out of him before. // HAPPIEST OF BIRTHDAYS TO MY BIRTHDAY BESTIE @heyyy11!!!!!! 🎉 many wonderful wishes of health, happiness, and good fortune for you!!!! :D it isn't a lot, but please enjoy this little gift i prepared in celebration!!!

But a mermaid has no tears, and therefore she suffers so much more.

A long time ago, a human penned that line in reference to merfolk and their inability to shed tears. A fact as intimate as that couldn’t have possibly been common knowledge amongst humans, or so Jade assumed every time the story was regurgitated at bedtime. He always did that: apply logic to areas where logic wasn’t needed. His teachers used to tell him, “Jade, sometimes you need to suspend your disbelief in order to immerse yourself in a fictional world.” He could try—and try he did—but he’d find himself lingering on that quote every time.

A slight amendment to that: merfolk can cry and they do suffer, but whether they suffer more is impossible to know without further study.

Jade operates under the notion that there are explanations for everything, even the wildest of lunacy. There is comfort in comprehension. He would spend hours holed up in his sleeping nook, poring over stories and texts on humans and beastfolk. He would compare and contrast them. Can a tearless cry indicate the amount of suffering per species, or is such an abstract concept even remotely quantifiable? Perhaps it is because merfolk cry silently that they suffer. Because there is no one who can hear their weeping in the deep sea. Because there is no physical proof.

It’s easier to recognize the physical signs of grief, for what happens within is shrouded in secrecy, veiled in the depths of the heart.

So when Jade comes onto land for the first time, human skin stretched over a skeleton altered with a potion, every inch awkward and aching, the sea leaks out of his pores. He feels like a pufferfish not yet expanded but on the verge of bloating, deflated and weak, salt still spilling. And he knows it’s salt because he swipes two fingers under his armpit and brings them to his mouth to taste. It’s saltwater.

He later learns, while sitting in Professor Crewel’s class and listening to him drone on about anatomy, that this is the phenomenon known as sweating. Jade sweats when he exerts himself, when his body temperature rises degrees over what’s internally comfortable and he needs to cool down, when he ingests something spicy, when he’s sick with a fever, when he’s stressed… It’s a fascinating facet of human biology he was previously unaware of.

Azul called these peculiarities “symptoms of being human,” and what intriguing symptoms they are! He hopes to experience even more as he completes his education on land, regardless of how troublesome they might be.

Having a symptom of something implies the affected is ill in some way—as if humanity itself is an illness and this human body serves as more of a hindrance than help. Jade will forever be an eel merman, and this body is just a clever cloak crafted to make his life on land habitable. Although there are moments where he thinks his original form would suit a certain task. Like swimming or any sport in the water, really. But he likes to struggle and fail, learning from every human mistake.

These symptoms are not terrible. Not to him, at least.

He meets you in the woods. You’re hunched over the ground, patting a compact lump of freshly disturbed soil. A burial, he thinks, but then he’s not certain. When you fashion a little marker out of sticks and ribbons, it occurs to him that he was right.

“Hello to you, too,” you say, turning to glance at him.

There’s something that stills in the air. A feeling catches and tugs at his heart. He can’t explain it—still can’t even to this day—but something trickles out of his eyes then. A droplet of water and then another and then more until silent streams are falling thick. He blinks until his once-blurry vision clears, only to find you’re looking at him fully now.

Jade gathers the wetness on his fingertips and licks curiously. Salt.

Horrifyingly, he’s sweating from his eyes.

He doesn’t panic. A grotesque part of him wants to know what else these eyes are capable of in this body.

You draw in breath through your lips. A gasp. “Oh! Are you all right?”

He nods because even if his brain doesn’t understand it yet his heart does.

You are the person he’s going to spend the rest of his life with.

This isn’t fiction, and he doesn’t have to pretend to accept it as his temporary reality just to enjoy the story it promises. He knows. His heart—the eel-mer heart—knows. This salt is a symptom of being human, but a symptom of being a mer is that there is the strongest sixth sense for finding one’s other half.

“Are you sure?” you press, rising to your feet, digging through your bag for tissue. “You’re crying!”

He blinks back at you. I’m…crying.

He’s not sweating. He’s crying.

“Forgive me,” he says even though he knows there’s nothing to apologize for. “My eyes must not be working today.”

A sympathetic smile spreads on your face. “Did you come here with anyone?”

He shakes his head and explains rather simply that he’s come on account of club business. “I’m the only member in my club,” he elaborates unnecessarily, “and so I often come here to hike and forage. I suppose I wasn’t expecting to run into anyone on this route.”

“Club? You’re a student?” Before he has a chance to respond, you add, “No way! What school? I’m from Royal Sword.”

“Night Raven.”

“Whoa! That’s so cool. I’ve heard lots about that school. Oh, sorry, I’m totally chatting your ear off. If it’s not an issue, would you like to walk back together? Don’t take this the wrong way. I’m just worried about you.”

The affable conversation was so smooth Jade almost forgot he’s been leaking—crying—the entire time.

“Why would you be worried? I assure you there’s nothing in this forest that could harm me,” he says, holding a hand over his heart.

As if it isn’t the woods that might hurt him but, rather, the person standing in front of him. He has never felt any need to protect his heart, but now he thinks he must. If he’s to offer it to you in the future, he wants to do so when it is perfectly whole and packed full of happiness.

“Um… Well, I just don’t want you to do anything…harmful,” you say, stringing the words together awkwardly. “People care about you. They’d miss you.”

He glances past you at the burial. Just above, a nest of baby birds chirp noisily. He understands now.

“As it happens, I’m currently quite content.”

“You are?”

He tilts his head at you and smiles, teary-eyed and most likely red in the face.

“I am. Very much so. I’ve experienced another human symptom. I couldn’t be any happier.”

You exhale a quiet, semi-amused breath. “I’m glad.” Your hand is held out next. “I’m (Name). It’s nice to meet you.”

His webless, clawless hand closes around yours. “Jade Leech,” he greets.

— — —

“You look good,” Floyd compliments, watching Jade fuss over himself in the mirror. “Shrimpy’ll think so. And Mama. Pops, too.”

“So everyone,” he replies smartly, his hands shaking as he smooths the nonexistent wrinkles in his suit. They reach for the jewelry strung around his neck. He’s wearing his mother’s pearls. Tradition and memory are twined throughout each one. For every hand that holds this chain, a new pearl will be added. It has been in his family for ages. After today, he’ll add his and the necklace will be a pearl longer.

He feels like he needs to pace up and down a mountain. Like he needs to strip this seaweed-esque suit off and jump into the ocean to feel free of constriction. Clothes are always so…unique. That’s the word he chooses to use. Another symptom, he’s certain, because clothes are to humans as colors are to merfolk. Humans attract each other with fashion styles just as mers flash colors and patterns at those they intend to charm.

“Everyone,” Floyd echoes, grinning to ease the tension. “C’mon. You know everything’s gonna be fine.”

Logically, Jade is aware of that. There were rehearsals and lists and triple-checks. Everything is in order. He’s ready. You’re ready. Illogically, he thinks he’s about to shake out of his skin from either excitement or anxiety or a combination of both.

Floyd’s hand comes down upon his shoulder. He relaxes beneath the squeeze. “You got this.”

“I do,” he whispers, turning away from the mirror with a smile.

He waits for you at the altar. A feeling he knows well enough claws at the back of his eyes. It’s been steadily encroaching since this morning, or perhaps it’s always been there ever since he first met you.

When he sees you, his world comes together and everything is warm and wonderful. There are tears on his face, tracking down his cheeks in hot streaks. It’s not embarrassing even though, somewhat flustered, he mouths to his parents that he’s simply sweating from the eyes. A symptom they’ll soon experience in their temporary human bodies.

Out of every human symptom he’s experienced, he thinks this one is his favorite.

You meet him at the front, and beneath an awning of the prettiest flowers you join hands.

“How do you feel?” you murmur, your thumbs running over his palms.

He’s going to say he feels like his world is brighter and wrapped in silk—like he’s looking love right in the face.

Through his tears, he smiles and says, “Like my eyes are working properly today.”

You giggle around a rising sob. Happy tears, he notes, much like the ones sticking to his face. “Weird. Because mine don’t seem to be working today.”

“A shame. You can’t see how beautiful you are.”

“I trust you.”

“I can’t promise mine won’t sweat halfway through the ceremony, but I appreciate your faith in me.”

“It’s fine. Mine are already doing that.”

And it’s everything to him—you, this union, the tears, these messy, complex symptoms of being human. Everything.

Jade thinks he’d like to rewrite that old quote from his childhood.

But a mermaid has no tears and so that may be true in storybook blue, but it is her heart that weeps for everything she has experienced, is experiencing, and will experience; the good and the bad, the happy and the sad.

#twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #jade leech x reader #jade x reader

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