#such a scratch could never harm me : Aaravi/Miranda (royalreef)

[biteyourcrush]

BOLTS OUT OF FUCKING NOWHERE TO TACKLE HER WIFE AND MAKE OUT WITH HER AARAVI AARAVI AARAVI SHE'S MISSED YOU AARAVI—

Local Nerd in Denial gets FUCKING OBLITERATED by a wife-tackle, more news at 11. Yeah, she's back alright.

[biteyourcrush]

"Nothing less than killing your dad, babe."

Oh wow, that's on the nose.

"But you know me- I've always been something of an overachiever."

Oh snap.

       “RAVI!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

       “…………”

       “Ravi. Whatever are you talking about. Tell me right now.”

[biteyourcrush]

Elsewhere...

“Hey, Va- uh, that is, strange cat merchant I have definitely never met before. I hear tell that you have... special wares for sale? I would like to get something nice for my wife.”

[biteyourcrush]

@royalreef replied: "Ravi, you *know* I cannot accurately judge ass quality by sight alone."

"Sounds like a skill issue."

Oh fuck she just told her wife to git gud-

[biteyourcrush]

There is much nodding to be had.

“Can confirm, MILF-hood looks great on Miri.”

[biteyourcrush]

"Maybe if Vera did more squats, she'd be out of bed by now."

Bitch, you were CHUGGING stamina potions after the first Coral Festival, where do you get off- wait, no, not like that THAT'S NOT HOW I MEANT IT NOOOOOOOOOO-

[biteyourcrush]

@royalreef​ replied: AARAVI PLEASE YOUR WIFE IS SINGING CAROLS!

She looks up- before yanking the cord from her headphones, letting the music playing on her phone blast out-

“IT WAS NEVER JUST A PHASE-!”

NO AARAVI- YOU WERE SUPPOSED TO BE THE CHOSEN ONE! YOU WERE SUPPOSED TO BRING BALANCE TO THE HOLIDAYS, NOT CAST THEM INTO DARKNESS!

[biteyourcrush]

@royalreef​ asked:

It has to take place when there's no one else around.

Of course there are the traditional birthday celebrations. How could there not be? How could Miranda forget this day, how could she not have other presents, better presents, happier things than this? It's supposed to be for friends. For company. For another year of life to celebrate and to love.

This is neither of those things.

Do not mistake Miranda. It is still a gift. It is important to share, and she is risking a lot by sharing it. Even just getting this far, getting to this point — that would be enough, by her kingdom's courts, to singlehandedly label her a traitor. It was the kind of treason you just didn't walk away from if they caught you, the kind of treason that would make everything Miranda had and everything that she had worked for meaningless. This would get her executed. This would get an order out for her immediate death at all costs if they even so much as discovered what she had done. Not even what she was about to do, but what she had in her hands, right now.

It took a long time. How could it not? Sure, Miranda had access, she was the arbiter of such things as the heir to the throne, but this was beyond mere access. She couldn't just walk away with these things.

It was a process. It was a slow, arduous thing, covering her tracks, making sure she had everything that she needed. She had to be careful. She couldn't be caught. If she was caught then all of this was for nothing, she would be butchered in front of her own people and her tomb would be broken, smashed, so that there would not even be anywhere for her bones to finally lay. She wouldn't see Aaravi again, if that happened. And when all of this was for her, she had to keep her safe, had to do what she needed to do.

She hadn't brought it in with the rest of the presents either. It had to be hidden. Miranda had slipped it in under a false bottom, under as many protective spells as she could, as much anti-scrying as she could muster. When Aaravi wasn't home, she had been working those runes into the walls, behind paintings, under countertops, places no one would ever notice them. Places no one would see. She had to doublecheck they worked. She had to make sure no one would be able to see what happened.

She hadn't even let Hex see. Wouldn't let them see. This had to be achieved carefully, a mix between making them promise privacy after all of the other celebrations were over, when she could just be alone with Aaravi and that it was serious, and with some bribery. There were plenty of fine distractions that she could offer, gifts of their own to claim. She just needed to be alone.

She had brought Aaravi into their bedroom. It was strange, to think of it as their bedroom now, but in a pleasant way. A lived-in way. A want that started in her stomach and burned through her body, aching in purple hues behind her ribs, that some day Miranda might not have to sleep anywhere else. That they could have one bedroom, one place to call their own.

The windows had been drawn. Miranda had placed a special seal on them specifically, for that. As was the door, locked, and then placed with a charm as well, to keep out intruders.

She had told Aaravi it was one last gift. One last something that she had to give her. Had sat Aaravi on the edge of the bed while she went through the process, worrying over every step, making sure it was okay. That everything was ready. That they could begin this, this final step, this final act of high treason, one of the worst Miranda knew of.

It was only then that she finally fetched the box. Nothing elaborate, this time. It was ivory-white, plain, curved at the edges so that it had no hard corners. It shimmered, mother-of-pearl, in the light, but it wasn't made for decoration.

It didn't even appear to have a seal, an edge where it might open, or a way to open it, until Miranda kneeled in front of Aaravi and slid her hand along the front. Trained to only respond to the telltale signature of her soul, a fingerprint so specific and unique that it was near impossible to replicate without the real thing. Until the front opened, panels sliding apart, the illusion of seamlessness broken as they shifted like an alien animal, and it came apart, the top half folding away to show what was inside.

Laying inside was five objects. All identical, in form and in function.

They looked like snail shells or squid pens, at first. Long and crystalline, organic in structure. They curled along the outer edge, clockwise, winding down to the bottom, where they had an opening with a cap like that of a snail. See-through, at that. Against their outer edges pressed translucent organs and innards, viscera coiled up inside with only the outer shell edge to stop them from being exposed to the air.

But that wasn't the only thing inside of them. There was a liquid substance, contained in one of those transparent organs, moving with gravity as Miranda held it. Some dark coloration. It may have been the light, or it may have been the shells, but it seemed to shift with other colors, inside. Harder to describe colors. Colors that didn't seem to fit.

"Aaravi," Miranda spoke softly, not a breath above a whisper. Looking up at Aaravi in reverence, in love, in a pleading thing that she didn't want to name. "My love, my wife, my ul'kiha.

It is time you learned the truth about my kingdom."

And then she told her the story. Told her how it happened. Told her how her kingdom came to power and what her ancestors did, how the Cees'rril'ta began.

She told Aaravi what had been done. She told her what she really was, in all of her awful glory, what lived beneath her skin. She told Aaravi what was possible for the royals, her family, to do. She told Aaravi of what lay beneath the sea.

Of corpses. Of gods. Of crimes committed. Of abominations born. Of war machines that did not think nor live, and of war machines that thought and lived as one of their own.

She told Aaravi what the holiday that Miranda was born upon, pure coincidence, was really celebrating.

She told Aaravi what her duties entailed.

And it was only then that her story shifted. Changed. As she explained what she had done. How she had to steal this away, slowly, ever so slowly. That if they caught her, she would be dead. That this was the highest crime that the Merkingdom had, their most despised act, the most severe treason that Miranda could have ever done.

She had stolen fire from the gods, for Aaravi's sake.

Miranda explained that she had to do it. That what she had was something that all of the other royals of her line had, that it was what kept them in power, that this was what set them apart. That if Aaravi had tried to kill the king, or even one of her sisters, then she would enter into a place worse than death before she could scream. That they could take her, and break her in ways that were impossible anywhere else.

She apologized for keeping it a secret for so long. Even telling her was treason. Even letting her know what lay below, on the ocean floor, was forbidden, that Miranda could have been put to death for that alone. All of this was supposed to remain secret. All of this was supposed to belong to the Merkingdom, not to the land. That this was what Miranda was supposed to guard with her life.

And then she explained that this is what it took.

Only a week. She would feel sick, and be terribly sick, and Miranda would look after her. It would be rough. It would not be pleasant.

But after a week, they could not hurt her anymore. No one within the Merkingdom could use the abominations against Aaravi, no one could make them hurt her. Nothing beyond the stars, beyond sleep and beyond death, could touch her. She could stare into the face of madness, and it would just be a face. The gods were but bad dreams, and she could wake up now. No royal could harm her in any way other than the sword and spear, and the playing ground would finally be level, with nothing to hold over her head.

After that, she could see what was inside Miranda. She could look at it, and not be hurt. That Miranda could not hurt her and would not harm her, not even at her worst.

It was only after that did she pause. Breathing softly, scared, her pulse hammering in her throat. It was said. It was done. If Aaravi would have her, if she would accept this, then Miranda would do it. Would see to every step of the process. Would make sure no gods nor kings could lay a hand upon her that she could not return in full.

Then, she laughed a little. Dry, almost disbelieving. Inappropriate, maybe, but the thought came and lodged itself in her mouth so that she had to speak it.

" ......... You know, if we were married in the way my kingdom wishes I was married, then this would be one of your wedding gifts."

Somehow this year, so far, had managed to top last year.

Perhaps it was the fact that Aaravi had chilled out enough to start making friends enough that people actually cared about her birthday. Perhaps it was the fact that she, more than just receiving gifts from her friends (and her ul’kiha- this was her second birthday spent married, it was mind boggling to think about), actually felt like she had something to actually celebrate for another revolution around the sun- that she had grown, changed, become better in the past year- instead of another year spent throwing herself at dangerous situation after dangerous situation, low-key probably not even wanting to make it out alive before now.

It was the first birthday she has had in along time where another year of life felt like a gift, instead of a curse.

When all was said and done- when celebrations were had, cake was cut, and Miri dragged the both of them home- with Hex promising to leave the two of them alone in the apartment together- when Miri brought out that box-

The mere presence of it set off the clarion bells of reality in Aaravi’s brain. Her Slayer’s instinct- the thing that had been gifted to people like her to sense the presence of intrusion upon reality and the living- acting up and shouting 'DANGEROUS, THIS IS DANGEROUS-'

And then Miranda explained. Held up each stoppered shell of the viscera of Ancient Ones, and confessed the crimes of her people. Of her own doing.

It was... it was almost funny. How much Aaravi would’ve given before now to have some sort of weapon against the ultimate powers of entropy- the Nothingness that the Slayers were supposed to guard against, the boogeymen they had to fight- and yet a whole civilization had figure out how to turn the despairing eldritch forces powers against them.

She placed a hand over Miranda’s.

“You know... it’s kind of scary how every day I learn something new about you, and every time I do it reminds me of... of myself, in a weird way.”

A part of her worried about whether she could even accept this. It made sense that someone like Miranda could handle it- could take in part of an Elder Deity like it was a vaccine- but how would that interact with the powers of the Slayer in her blood? Would they harmonize- or would it spell out something worse, as her own body tore itself apart to reject the influence?

As she held Miranda’s hand in her own- looked her ul’kiha in the eye, and thought about everything she would do to protect Miranda- the choice was obvious.

If she and Miranda could cohabitate- could love each other, like they did- then there was always a chance.

Down the hatch, as they say.

[biteyourcrush]

She is simply grinning, standing at the bottom of the egregiously garish throne that Miranda’s set up.

“THAT’S FUCKING RIGHT, THAT’S MY WIFE AND Y’ALL CAN DEAL WITH IT!”

Is Aaravi’s face absolutely burning red in spite of her declaration of bravado? Absolutely- but also it does feel nice to be so publicly supported and loved by her ul’kiha.

[biteyourcrush]

This is her old school.

It's a funny thing, to be here again, as if the place never changed. Never could change, maybe, even through the years. Maybe even when Miranda came here, it had already settled on a way to be, a way that it would always be, and even long before she stepped through those doors for the first time, countless other classes had come and gone, and it was all the same. It was a thought she had pondered over before, when she had attended, of course. That no amount the fires, the explosions, the gunfights, the portals to another dimension, and so on, that it always just looked the same. Very little damage stuck, not forever. Eventually it was all buried by time.

She hadn't remembered the ceilings being this low before. That was new, and bothersome, but not entirely unexpected. Lots of things had steadily become smaller, over the years.

But to anyone else, it would have been an odd sight, to see Miranda wandering through the halls, only mildly confused.

First of all, there was the issue of height. While the Miranda most people knew was small and slight, someone who nearly everyone could look down upon rather than stare up at, that no longer applied. Gone was the slim and fainting princess, able to slip between places, and in her place was left a giant. Body lengthened with age, height gained, she only looked down upon others with a difference of feet, nearly brushing the seven foot mark.

Next there was what had become of her body. Most people had not seen a merfolk beyond Miranda. They expected, when they saw another, that they might be bony creatures, slender, skin clinging tight to muscle.

That was no longer true. Age had given mass to Miranda, and mass had given her muscle, and muscle had shaped her into a thing of awe. She didn't look like a princess anymore, not a fairytale thing written about in stories to be rescued from towers.

Miranda looked like a queen.

Muscle rippled beneath ruby scales, distorted by the presence of old scars, their beds gone a dull skin-pink with age. To look at her was to look at an iron wall, a tower of sinewy power and strength, the kind of strength that could have put someone else through a wall. Her eyes had gone soft and there were faint smile lines etched into the corners of her mouth, but there was no mistaking that she was someone not to be trifled with. A queen who held power in every sense of the word, who lived and breathed it, who could have made the world bow just by standing in front of it.

But she didn't have a crown on her head. Her clothes were nice, but that was a sweater she was wearing, and only one necklace, close to her throat.

And, there was the obvious, of course.

Clinging to her back, held on tight, was a kid.

Curly purple hair at shoulder-length, just a breadth or two darker than Aaravi's, and big shiny eyes, the green of seaglass. Lavender scales plated down their nose, and across their body in spots, and with claws on every finger, to hold on tight. Upon their neck were little gill-slits, the miniature of Miranda's, and some odd combination of both ears and fins that flicked at the sides of their face.

They were just dressed in some play-overalls, orange with a yellow shirt beneath, and they were not really looking around with their mom. If anything, they were tucked down, trying to hide in Miranda's sweater, eyes peeking over the edge.

She had come here to talk to some old friends. She hadn't noticed that anything had changed, or that she was in the wrong time, as she tried to recall the layout of the classrooms again, to stir memories that had been shoved to the back of her mind, covered over in dust and cobwebs.

And, of course, she hadn't noticed Aaravi at all, because she didn't think her ul'kiha would be here. That she had merely left her at home, while Miranda went to catch up. She was not thinking of catching her scent, because everything about Miranda also smelled of Aaravi now. She did not think she would hear her footsteps, because Aaravi's walk had changed over the years, just so, as age made its home in both of them, their history wearing them down.

And she did not expect to see Aaravi, because she did not think she looked like that anymore, bearing the signs of a youth that Miranda remembered but only so, only looked back fondly upon, not as a literal thing that might appear before her.

Then again, Miranda really should have expected that, out of anywhere, it would be Spooky High where she accidentally stepped into a wrong time.

Aaravi Mishra has had a lot of weird fucking days. What she didn't know is that today might be one of them. Here she is, at Spooky High- ready to head home after ACTUALLY attending classes like a regular student, grabbing her textbooks from her locker after most of the school has already headed home- and then she hears it.

The padding of steps is familiar in texture, but... heavier. She's a split second between recognition and not- because she's a slayer. She's memorized those sounds, so she knows when her wife (amazing, incredible, new and weird but in a wonderful way) is around. But the differences in it give her pause, her mind working on overdrive.

Sounds like a merfolk. Too heavy to be Miranda. Different merfolk- there's another merfolk in the school.

Never. A good. Sign.

She's already turning, mentally calculating where she's still got some hidden knives under her casual clothes when she sees her and just... stops.

If she didn't know better, she'd swear she was looking at Miranda's mom- a woman who she had never, COULD never meet- and the absurdity of this clearly abyssal royal wandering around the school in effectively mom jeans and a sweater- any and all action dies like the threatening growl that almost escaped her throat. The only words that leave her mouth come out softly- but with feeling.

"What the... fuck."

C'mon Aaravi- language in front of the baby you haven't even noticed yet.

[biteyourcrush]

A tiny, clawed hand, its back covered in delicate lavender scales, reaches up and over the edge of the table to leave a handful of shells and rocks. They can't quite get over the table proper yet, not tall enough to reach over it, but its enough to show the treasures from today's venture. They tried to brush them off, but there are still grains of sand that fall out, here and there.

"Mommy took me to hau-bir early today," their voice is quiet, still like they haven't grown into it, still like they don't want to talk too loud. The abyssal word is still shortened, a quick name for the beach that Miranda has already taught them, but they pick up fast. They're just less confident about actually saying things, not knowing what they are.

Virina points to one of the shells, ridged and with a curve that fits into the palm of their hands. "This-un has a hole in it, why's that?"

A quiet day in the Mishra residence- there were a lot of those now. At least, comparatively- even with a kid running around, that really was nothing compared to the work the both of them had to put in in order to EARN that. Aaravi's in the kitchen, making note of what they have and figuring out meal plans for the day, when her attention is drawn away.

"Well, morning to you too, beta." She grinned, the Hindu petname bringing back some of the better memories of her own youth and shutting the fridge. She lets out a low whistle at the haul, glittering shells and beach bits on the table like a tableu of childlike curiosity- taking a seat and giving them a look.

"Hmmmm~ could be for lots of reasons! Pretty sure a lot of things that find shellfish tasty have little drill-parts to crack into the shells. Or it could've just been an already thin part of the shell, worn through by the grit of the ocean floor- mommy would probably know better."

"Now," She grinned at her kid, "Have you and mommy had breakfast yet? Or do you want amma to make you some pancakes?"

"Oooooh, special 'Ravi pancakes today~?"

The curse flowed from the amulet, as if summoned by the prospect of food- actually that's probably literally what happened. Aaravi sighed, but any malice she may have once had in the action was long gone as she just raised an eyebrow.

"Hex."

"Whaaat? They're the bomb dot com, 'Ravi-girl!"

[biteyourcrush]

“Fuck, Miri- language!”

[biteyourcrush]

💭 + for ravi, on her ul'kiha :>

Oh god, what thoughts DOESN'T she have? Especially ones that aren't immediately about the fishdi-

"Sometimes I remember how we met and I'm fucking FLUMMOXED that she gives me the time of day- like, I've had to do a LOT of growing, everyone knows it! I was... I was, y'know. Sort of actively hunting down most of my classmates, not exactly proud of that in hindsight."

"If you had told me a couple years ago that I'd be married to a mermaid princess, I'd have- okay, I wouldn't have laughed, I would have flat out panicked and probably stabbed you. The idea of dating a monster back then... I had my hangups. It didn't work out for mom, but... fuck am I glad it seems to be working out for me."

"I love her. I've made a promise- an oath- to be with her for as long as she'll have me, and promises made aren't just words for me."

"One day we're going to kill her dad- chop the head off the beast of tyranny that her people suffer under, and then retire to a nice house by the sea where she can just be Miranda- just Slz'Exkii, without the crown weighing her down."

[biteyourcrush]

SHE IS BURYING HER FACE IN RAVI'S CAPE. WIFEY, HELP. SHE MAY HAVE ACCIDENTALLY TALKED A LOT ABOUT A LOT OF PEOPLE'S BODILY FLUIDS WHEN SHE DIDN'T MEAN TO, AND NOW SHE'S EMBARRASSED.

( ........ Also she does love Aaravi's cum as well but now isn't the time- )

She has been completely laid out due to poison related reasons for at least three days now. Her hair is a mess, she is sweaty she is gross and she's been in her leather slayer gear for- again- about three days.

"The fuck is going on."

[biteyourcrush]

@royalreef​ because it’s Feels Time

It had been years since Aaravi had graced the halls of Spooky High- which made her waking up near one of the vents all the more confusing. That familiar feeling of waking up and not knowing where you are- only to realize a second later how familiar the place is.

There was exactly one problem though.

“What the hell am I doing here?”

Which was a fair enough question to ask- last she remembered, she was waiting for some new marching orders from the rebellion. Ever since she found out that Miri was working with them on the inside, she was simultaneously happier and yet more worried than ever. Did she just... seek out somewhere familiar to deal with the stress? A yearning for a simpler time?

Nah, that couldn’t be it. Something weird was going on, for sure.

[biteyourcrush]

Yeah, she BETTER pick Bellanda to live. Aaravi wasn’t some damsel to be saved- fuck no-win scenarios, the universe would have to try much harder than just putting forth a hypothetical choice if it wanted to kill Aaravi.