#the devil sings a cradle

[mereyapalais]

JE SUIS LÀ POUR TOI

Modern Stack x Reader

Ignore the fire in the picture pls. Lol

Excuse any errors. Enjoy

Ghosting was your defense mechanism. Having been hurt countless of times in the past made it hard for you to completely trust anyone that came in your life and show interest.

No matter house much they show up and show out, that little voice in your head is always ready and armed with all the wrong words to convince you that it’s all for show. They’re just doing it cause they want something from you.

They don’t really like you, just passing time.

You’ve fallen victim to the little devil in your mind. Sure it cost you a few great relationships but the lack of effort put in to to truly trying to keep you in their life always made you believe that you were actually right. No one truly likes you.

That’s until you met Elias, alias Stack.

It’s almost like someone out there, it be God or any other Divine Creature, knew exactly what you needed in that moment. Stack was truly a blessing. A gift.

Your biggest criteria for your partner was that they had to be funny. Someone with whom you can share hearty laughs mixed with some deep conversations.

With Stack, you found all that and then some.

That man could laugh you out your panties. But once he got you in that bed, nothing was funny anymore. Your previous laughs turned into cries of pleasure. Lips singing a totally different tune which translated the state of euphoria he had you in.

Never had you met a man with a skilled mouth inside and outside the bedroom.

Every thing was copacetic. Until you started going ghost on him.

It started with you taking hours to respond to his text messages. Purposely missing his calls. Engaging less in conversation.

Until you started to actively limit your rendezvous. Each day of the week had its own unique excuse.

Despite him trying to be understanding and giving you time, Stack could notice something was wrong. Sure you’ve only known each other for a fraction of time, but that doesn’t mean he hadn’t been paying special attention to you.

You really came into his life and transpercer son coeur like a cupids bow.

When he found himself thinking about you at random times of the day, loosing interest in his little pass time ladies. That’s when he knew he wanted you in life. At least for a little while longer.

He tried to practice patience with you. Be understanding. Don’t smother you too much and be annoying. Lord knows he’s never felt such strong feelings for someone before. But after a few days of you ghosting him, he couldn’t take it anymore.

He didn’t even put much thought into what he was going to do. All he knew was that he hasn’t seen you in a minute and he was gonna see you today.

———————————————————————

There you were in your small bubble. Just enjoying the quiet of your home. At least you were trying to.

Before Stack, staying alone in silence for a prolonged period of time was not a problem. But things have changed. You don’t remember when they changed. They just did.

The silence in your home right now is just an indication that something’s missing. Someone’s missing.

Whenever stack was around, silence was a rare guest in the domicile. Whether it was the booming voice of his off key singing. Him telling you stories about all his multiple adventures. Even sharing some stories of his past crazy situationships.

Other times, his soothing voice was the only thing that could get you back to earth. Whispering sweet words in your ear. Cradling you in your arms so as to shield you from your thoughts. Sometimes he wished he could get in your head and remove all the weeds that have been growing there. Replace them with beautiful, colourful flowers.

Seven loud knocks in interval came to your door. The first few knocks were faint. But as the seconds passed without you opening up, the knocks became louder and louder.

At this point you feared your nosy older neighbours would be disturbed.

Approaching the door on your tippy toes so as to not reveal any human activity and alarm the other person of your presence, you looked through the peep hole.

“You don’t even gotta look. You already know it’s me, love. Open up.”

He was right you already know who stood on the other side of the door. You didn’t think he’d show up this soon. That’s a record. Normally they just get used to your absence. And vice versa.

“Aye, you better open up ‘fore I cause a scene for your bougie ass neighbours.”

You sighed proceeding to open the locks. As the door swung open his hand was in mid air as if waiting to knock again.

At the sight of you, he dropped his hand and with it went the wrinkles on his forehead. His face relaxed. Heart beating a bit slower when he saw you were still in one piece and breathing.

The both of you just stood there. No one uttering a thing. Simply contemplating each other.

No matter how much you tried to convince yourself you didn’t miss him, seeing him in front you made all the feelings you tried so hard to hide away came springing up to the surface.

“You really thought you could get rid of me that easily? I told you, you’re already in my system.”

“You not even gonna let me in?” His question was out of the ordinary. Any other time he would’ve already let himself in the minute you opened the door. Problem was, this wasn’t any other time. He knows he has to go slowly with you. Take his time so as to not push you away even more.

You didn’t give a verbal answer. Just stepped aside and he took the hint. Besides you couldn’t trust your voice in the moment. Your brain was running a thousand miles per minute trying to find the right excuse you were going to dish him.

Now inside the house, you were waiting for him to unleash his anger. Tell you how foul you were. Get all the things he has to say ofc his chest before storming out.

That didn’t happen. He looked at you with the softest expression in his eyes before meekly declaring “I miss you.”

Now that’s..new. Not knowing what to say since he caught you off guard. You simply stood there looking at him. You wanted to tell him how much you share the same sentiment as him. How much he has been occupying my mind lately. The word’s didn’t make it to your lips.

“You don’t even gotta tell me anything right now. Just let me be there for you. Please?”

Yeah, that did it. First it was the slight expansion of your nose, then you lips quivering lightly, like a child ready to cry, throat constricting, then finally your eyes stinging before they became blurry.

———————————————————————

You don’t recall how you got here. You body completely enveloped by a warm blanket, body melting in the comfortable mattress.

Looking outside the window, obscurity had taken over the sky. Time had really passed. How long have you been out?

Your senses started to awaken slowly but surely. One thing captured your attention. The aroma of some good home cooked meal seduced your nostrils. That’s when your stomach decided to announce itself with a loud grumble.

You left the comfort of your bed as you headed for the kitchen.

The sight in front of you tugged at your heart strings. There in your decent size kitchen was Elias, wiping down the kitchen that was visibly messy after his cooking. He was so focused on his task he couldn’t even hear you come in his space.

Not knowing how to announce yourself, you let out a small “ahem”. That caught his attention.

Turning around, he smiled as soon as he saw your face.

“You’re awake. I wanted to get done here ‘fore coming to wake you up. I know you don’t like eating when the kitchen’s messy.”

Good lord. He couldn’t get more perfect than this. Here he was taking care of you. Not once has he shown you his displeasure with

���It’s fine. The food actually directed me here. It smells nice.”

“Yeah I figured you’d be hungry after you wake up so I decided to throw something together for you.”

“Thank you.”

He plated your food before pulling out a chair which you thought was for you until he sat down. He patted his knees inviting you to sit on him instead.

“Are you sure..?” Came out your hesitant voice.

“Come on.” He said simply with a small smile on the corner of his lips.

You missed the proximity. You know he did too. Stack is the definition of touchy feely person. You will never find yourself close to him without him finding one way or another to touch you. Nothing sexual. He just constantly needs to touch you. You weren’t complaining.

You sat there in silence. Enjoying each other’s presence. You couldn’t help the sounds coming from your mouth. The food was

“You gonna have to slow down on those sounds. I know the foods not that good.”

“But it is though. What did you put in it?”

“Just some of my love and a pinch of salt to taste.”

“Corny.” You said flicking his ear slightly. Both sharing a laugh after.

“Stack, I’m really sorry about going ghost I-“

“Shh, we can talk about it tomorrow. I’m not going anywhere, you hear me? For now I just want you to enjoy your meal and rest some more. We gon’ talk about everything tomorrow.” With that he placed a kiss on your forehead. One on each cheek. On your nose before finally landing on your lips.

Yeah, you can’t comprehend how you were able to make it through the past few days without his lips on yours.

The kiss got hungrier. Messier. Each one pouring their all in the kiss. Hand’s roaming all over. Gropping, kneading, massaging the flesh.

As his hands found your breast and left a squeeze you couldn’t help but moan in his mouth. The vibration shooting straight to his member.

Breaking the kiss for air, your lips found themselves leaving open mouth kisses on his neck, sucking licking. Trailing up to his ears as your hands simultaneously found themselves going south, straight in his pants.

At the contact, his thighs jolted as your soft hands found him.

Your fingers found themselves playing with the his bulbous head. Spraying the already present thick liquid all over it. His thick leg’s spread apart to give you more access.

By now you, were straddling only one of his thick thighs. Rotating your hips chasing that sweet friction. You were definitely high off the pleasure.

Retracting the hand that was in his pants, you brought it up to your lips, licking around the digit. Sucking it like honey. He watched intently. Eyes narrowing lightly.

He took the finger that was in your mouth, coated with your saliva, and put it in his own mouth.

You proceeded to get on your knees ready to present him your excuses the only way you knew for now and show him how much you missed him.

“Wait, wait, what’re you doing?”

“What it look like?-”

“Nah baby, you don’t gotta do none of that.”

It wasn’t rare for you to use sex as a means to escape whatever mess going on in your head. Stack knew that. He never wanted you to feel like you were obligated to do anything.

“I want to. Please.”

“You sure?”

“Mhhm” You said eagerly. Mouth already salivating at the thought of what was about to happen.

Who was he to stop you. Sure he didn’t want you to feel like you had to do any of that but also if you wanted to he wasn’t going to stop you. Lord knows his body missed you bad.

One things for sure, it was going to be a long night.

Don’t forget to comment and reblog. Thank you for reading! 💋

[storiesoflilies]

the devil waits on the shore

synopsis: she was born with the mark of the devil of the sea on her wrist. everyone knew that he would come for her one day. she should be afraid… shouldn’t she? w.c: 1.3k.

pairing: pirate!toji fushiguro x f!reader

warnings: mild description of someone being touchy feely and gore, but otherwise sfw and no major warnings.

series masterlist / ao3

ACT 1

the sea knew her name.

it had known it even before she was born, whispered it into the curves of cliffs battered by salt and time. it would sing her name sometimes too, humming it along the hissing foam cradled by the shore. it was something soft, something like a prayer held within the crystal water cupped between a child’s palm.

she heard it call to her in her dreams too, as she stood someplace so far out that even the world had forgotten it was there. and the ever restless sea, whispering still, would stretch on forever and ever before her very eyes.

watching, yearning.

waiting.

for she carried its mark of blackened salt, and he was coming for her.

the devil of the sea.

her father once told her how the midwives had screamed the day she was born.

“m-marked,” one of them sputtered, falling over, a clattering pebble tumbling toward the sea. “marked by the devil she is.”

her parents hadn't understood what it was they meant, but her mother, soaked in the icy tendrils of a cold sweat, believed it in the way only a mother could. the hairs on the back of her neck clenched, a ferocious and violent itch burrowing its way into her scalp and mind. she clutched the fabric of her husband's worn coat, fingers tightening and tangling in the loose threads, desperately clawing at him with ragged nails like he was able to save them from this doom.

he couldn’t.

fathers, husbands – they are only men.

and what can a man do against the sea?

it was only when they had listened at night to the songs of the sailors, drunk on their lies and rum and whiskey, that they understood why the midwife had been so frightened.

oh, the girl with skin kissed by salt.

the sea devil’s love – he’ll come for her.

to claim her heart, her fate is drawn.

she’ll be lost to the tides before the break of dawn.

it wasn’t a song they sung often. but the legend of that pirate, that devil of the sea, was something they all knew far too well.

“she is cursed,” her mother gasped with dried, cracked lips burning from her falling tears. “and yet, she does not cry.”

(never.

to lose salt is a sin, a tragedy.)

her mark was blacker than coal, suffocating and and heavy against her skin like the legend it was bound to. it curled around her left wrist like a sleeping serpent, its surface rough and raised like an old scar, waiting to sink its teeth into her. once, she had held a friendly sea captain’s hand with that very hand, babbling at him to promise he would return soon to tell her stories of his all his adventures.

but he never did.

he was lost to the tides, along with all his crew.

word quickly spread amongst the patrons of the bars and brothels of the town, seeping between the cracks and crevices of rotting boards like burrowing mites. they all said her fingers were dipped in death, that she was not to be touched by any living being. the sea devil would hunt anyone that did the moment they went out to sea. in a fit of blind, superstitious rage, her mother wrapped her hand and wrist in many layers of thick bandages and clutched her shoulders with that same desperate hold she had on her husband all those years ago.

“you never take them off, you hear me?” she hissed, her gaze wild, the milk of her eyes split with raw lines of red.

it somehow reminded her of the preacher at the church, with his shaking, swollen hands stained with wine and holiness, who dreamed of something more than all… this.

she was shaken again, her head bobbing back and forth.

“do you hear me?”

could she?

above the call of the tide in the curl of the world, her fingers thrumming and throbbing beneath her tight wrappings, could she ever hear anything at all besides him? it was only by the gloss in her eyes and the little pout on her lip that her mother knew she had listened at all.

such was her life.

but she still had a naive, childish acceptance that this was just the way of world. a doom that was far off into the future that it would be a hundred years before it even came to fruition. it wasn’t really going to happen to her at all. her parents would make this all go away, and she would live her life and live in a castle, dressed in pearls and opulent silks.

it was the brashness of youth, a foolish belief that she was immortal, and that her soul wasn’t really tied to–

she didn’t even know his name.

the good, god-fearing sailors and her parents never spoke it aloud. to say it is to be cursed, they’d say, eyes dipping to the floorboards like they were afraid to even think it. but the pirates did. they spoke it into the curve of their tankards, muddled with frothy spit and toothless grins, or into the dark pocket of a coin purse, clinking with little riches. she finally heard it one day while passing by a brothel, watching a pirate bury his face into a barmaid’s bent, inviting neck.

“you know i’ve seen his ssssails today, don’t ya?” he slurred with a pop and a smack of his lips. “aye, the sea devil’s sails. i seen em’, i did.”

the woman only giggled. it was pretty, airy, like the song of a tiny little bell.

she always remembered that.

the pirate gripped a fistful of her red curls, strands of fire spilling from his rough hands. “c’mon, sweet thing. it’s my last night alive, toji fushiguro’s comin’ for me.”

a great gust of wind howled through the hooded street, sweeping through the woman’s lashing curls of fire and over her skin, like it was looking for something.

or, rather, someone.

(i see you,

i know you.)

the woman gasped, and so did she.

“see,” the man whispered, his bottom lip trembling under the weight of his fate. “he’s coming for me.”

toji fushiguro.

it was like the floodgates had opened, and now, she couldn’t stop hearing more and more about the devil she shared a red string with. the man who could never die, though was he ever a man to begin with? he was more of a god, really. a calamitous god of salt and smoke and bone who sailed a ship made from shadows. he had haunted the oceans for hundreds of years. the pirates would whisper among themselves at the docks, scraping away at barnacle infested wood. he’s what’s rotten with the world, they all said. a calamity that blows through entire fleets and sea villages to leave nothing but corpses and crabs, their chests carved out and bones glistening in the light of a red dawn.

all their hearts missing.

she wondered if her devil ate them, and if he would eat hers too when he came for her.

and yet, there was still that fragile sense of youth desperately clinging to her, begging her not to give in and believe a single word about devils and gods and death. but it wasn’t until sometime later, when she saw that barmaid with her hair of molten rubies tumbling down her bare back, staring out toward the ocean, that she knew the legend of the devil of the sea was real.

“he didn’t come back, did he?” she asked before she could stop herself.

the barmaid turned, her cheeks hollowed and sunken, staring at her and her wrapped hand like she wasn’t sure if she was an apparition. and then, she only shook her head, before walking back into the brothel that was her world in a haze of desire and pipe smoke. whatever youth she had left died that day, disappearing along with that woman and her pirate.

her dreams that night were plagued by the sea, still beating, bloody hearts washing up pathetically on a red red shore. and, of course, the song of her name played on the lips of the sea.

it felt like a prayer.

(you are mine,

of course.)

𖤓

©storiesoflilies 2025, all rights reserved. please do not plagiarize, translate, or repost any of my work on other sites! i only post on ao3 and tumblr.

[dark-and-kawaii]

The Ascended Devil & The Mouse

Raphael x f!Tav/Reader

⋆˙⟡♡ 18+

⋆˙⟡♡ Summary: It was the first time he had experienced being ascended, and you found him utterly breathtaking. Korilla warned you not to get close, that he could do anything to you, but you ignored her warnings.

⋆˙⟡♡ NSFW | Monster Fucking | Belly Bulge | Ascended Raphael

Ao3

Korilla observed from a distance, her eyes fixated on the sight before her. Your belly contorted with each forceful thrust of his cock, bulging with every penetration. The flush on your cheeks and the open, blissful expression on your face revealed your pleasure rather than discomfort. Your hand tightly grasped his arms, they reminded you of the texture that combined with wood and the solidity of bone. The fire from them never singing your delicate skin.

"R-Raphael!" you gasped, breathless, repeatedly uttering his name as if he were a god you worshiped. Korilla noticed how his gaze remained fixed on you, never wavering, like a wild predator dominating its prey. Raphael, in his ascended form, was an unknown entity, and she couldn't predict the final outcome. She had warned you to stay away from him, as Mephistopheles had never bestowed such a gift upon him before. Yet you defied her, approaching him and cradling his much larger face in your hands, kissing his tusk and proclaiming his beauty in this form.

She understood that one of the reasons he cherished you, his little mouse, was because you saw the beauty in him that others did not. You turned away even Haarlep, who was considered a more conventionally attractive version of Raphael. You truly loved Raphael for all that he was, even like this.

Beads of sweat formed on your skin, giving your body a radiant glow. Korilla had to admit, Raphael had excellent taste. Even the sounds of your soft moans and pleasure-filled cries, the way your body responded to his, made her envious of him, but only a tad in this moment.

It didn't take long for his pace to quicken, his large hands gripping your sides tightly, keeping you in place while he took his fill of you. His growls grew more pronounced, his hips moving with increasing speed, his testicles slapping against you forcefully. The outline of his cock was still visible through your distended belly, and she marveled at how you endured it all without screaming in agony.

"I-I want to be filled, please! I-Raphael!" Your nails dug into his infernal flesh, your legs attempting to wrap around him, but they soon went limp, falling to the sides as your vision blurred with sweat and a lust-induced haze.

Your arms fell limply above your head, your breath labored as your eyes continued to admire his exquisitely sculpted new face. Raphael was no longer just a handsome devil; he had transformed into a beautiful monster. You could feel the pulsations of his throbbing member inside you, hitting all the right spots, causing you to climax once more. This time, your eyes rolled back, a loud scream escaping your throat, and your toes curling as the waves of orgasm washed over you.

As your walls tightened around his cock, he showed no signs of slowing down. Instead, he leaned down and licked one of your sensitive nipples, his hot tongue grazing the tender bud, sending shivers of pleasure coursing through your body. It felt as if your body was on the verge of breaking, yet you remain beneath him, never attempting to push him away. You trusted your devil more than any god, knowing he would protect you even from himself.

His large claws grazed the sides of your hips before slipping beneath you, effortlessly flipping you over onto your side. His cock angled perfectly to reach your most sensitive spots. Korilla watched intently as he wrapped his ascended hand around your fragile little neck, the claws lightly digging into your flesh. She knew it was wrong not to give you both privacy, but as soon as you removed your garments Korilla knew she’d have to stay to ensure your safety. She knew Raphael would never forgive her if she allowed him to do something reckless.

The sounds that emanated from you, the screams and moans of pleasure, served as undeniable proof that he wasn't causing you harm. But still, he was a Devil, and anything could go awry. She watched as your hand gripped his, your head falling back, your eyes fluttering shut. "C-cum for me, m-my Raphael!!"

Raphael grunted, his thrusts becoming erratic, his tail swishing back and forth, knocking over opulent vases in the process. Your screams reverberated through the house, leaving no doubt that you had reached your peak once again. Raphael nuzzled into your shoulder, his tusks and bony face scraping against your skin. Korilla was certain you would be covered in cuts, but the healing bath would soothe those wounds.

A deep growl erupted from the devil, followed by a mighty roar. His grip on you tightened as his cock pulsed, finally releasing his thick, scorching seed deep inside your unprotected womb. Your stomach appeared several months pregnant, swollen from the copious amounts of cum. Your eyes drifted down to your swollen abdomen, your shaky hand caressing it as if there were a child growing within. The thought of bearing his child had crossed your mind several times before, and this experience only fueled that dream.

Korilla watched as his cock was milked, your cunt squeezing every last drop before the ascended Rapahel collapsed to the floor beside you. Careful not to crush you, his cock still buried inside of you. A low rumble vibrated against your back, his hands loosened their grip on you, his breathing beginning to even out. His bone tail wrapped around you in a protective manner, pulling you closer to him.

He was finally asleep, and you were exhausted. Korilla left the room with a sigh, knowing no one would dare enter and interrupt either of your slumber.

[blaxcunicorn]

𝓟𝓪𝓻𝓽 𝓸𝓯 𝔂𝓸𝓾𝓻 𝓦𝓸𝓻𝓵𝓭

Length: 8.6k

Content: Black fem!reader, just fluff for now!

Summary: The sea calls to you. It always has. As a princess of the land, you are forbidden from going near the water, warned of the sea devils lurking beneath the waves. But when you meet Eren, a charming merman you can’t resist sneaking away to see him. Your worlds are at war, your bond is forbidden, yet with each secret meeting, you begin to fall in love

Authors note: Omg guys! I present to you merman Eren x Princess reader!! I got lucky enough to work on this serie with @lovereren who is just incredible! I'm too excited to share our little project with you guys! Let us know what you think?! Also check out Black Lily by @lovereren, my favorite Eren story so far.

Credit: Gifs by @assassin1513 and divider by @khaer

Isolde sits on the rock, casting over the shore, watching the waves crash. She brings her knees to her chest and sobs. Her attending maiden approaches her.

“Queen, I am sorry for your loss. Is there anything-”

“After the 2nd time, I thought the 3rd time was the charm. Isn’t that the saying? I thought I would finally have my child. I was so close this time.” Queen Isolde rests her right hand on her belly.

“This womb is cursed, and I cannot bear a child. That’s my only purpose as Queen, and I cannot!” She covers her mouth and begins to sob. Her maiden excuses herself, giving Queen time to grieve. Word has not gotten out about another miscarriage, so the maiden returns to the castle to break the news to the rest of the staff. She pauses as a baby cry hits her ears. It’s soft and not far. The queen stands on the rock and turns to the maiden.

“What is that?” The Queen asks.

“A child? A baby?”

“Go to the castle! Bring me a blanket and basket! My clothes and food. Quickly!” the queen shouts. The maiden rushes off. She returned after gathering things, which took longer than she anticipated. The queen is cradling an infant with tears rolling down her face. She smooths the baby’s white hair back and smiles.

“Oh my. She’s-”

“Mine.” the queen glares at her maiden—the maiden nods.

“Of course. She looks like you so much.”

“Give me these things and return to the castle. Let the word out that I went off to give birth safely. I will return when I see fit, " Isolde states. The maiden nods her head and follows the instructions. The queen slips the single pearl necklace over the baby’s head. She watches in amazement as the child’s hair becomes black and her eyes brown. The maiden returns to the castle to spread the word that the queen has left for birth and will return when it is safe. 

The Queen returns two months later, and the castle erupts into celebration. The king returns from his long journey and stares down at his daughter. A smile breaks out on his face as you hold onto his large finger. King Aldric kisses his wife's head. 

10 years later

“Sweetheart, stay near me.” Your mother shouts. Your eyes light up as you take in the sights of the marketplace. This is the first time your parents have allowed you to come down and mingle with commoners. You run up to an apple stand and grab one.

“Now, Princess, you will have to pay for that,” the large man says. You giggle and turn to your mother. She hands money to the guy, and you take a bite, running to the painting's stand. A woman begins talking to your mother about portraits. You take this opportunity to run off. You’ve often snuck out of the castle to your parent's dislike, but you can’t help it. The world is big and beautiful, and you must explore. You rush down to the shore and take your place on the rock, staring at the waves. You reach your hand out, wondering what it’s like out there. The salty smell of the water makes your mouth water for an unknown reason. Maybe it’s excitement. You want to jump in so bad, but you don’t know how to swim. Your mother has terrified you with stories of the water and the creatures that dwell in the deep, dark seas. You sit on the rock and begin singing while munching on an apple. Someone calls your name, and you stand up and smile.

“Princess, your mother does not want you near the water. Let’s go. They’re dancing in the town square,” Marie, your babysitter, says. You stand and walk over, taking her hand. She leads you back to your mother, but you run with her trailing you. You bump into a boy who stares at you.

“Sorry.” You giggle, running away from Marie when she calls you.

“Eren. Check this thing out.” A blonde boy shouts. Eren’s ears tingle, and he reaches up to grab them. His cheeks are flushed red, and his heart begins a steady rhythm. 

“Are you okay,” A girl asks.

“Sasha back out of his face.” A bald boy shouts.

“Why’s your face so red, Eren?” Sasha asks. 

“I don’t know. Let’s find Zeke,” Eren whispers. Eren turns to the direction you ran. Armin grabs his wrist and pulls him along. His older brother Zeke appears.

“Do you guys want to see dancing?” Zeke asks. All three kids shout except Eren. Zeke bends down and stares at his little brother. He smirks. 

“Did you find your sweetheart?” Zeke asks. Eren shoves him.

“Girls are gross. Shut up!” Eren says, walking away. Zeke laughs as the group follows him to the town square. 

You sit next to your mother, watching the festivities take place. You remain there all night watching different shows and staring in complete awe when the fireworks happen. Zeke pulls his brother along.

“We have to get back now. It’s time,” He says. Eren pouts but follows his friends and brother. A sweet scent hits his nose. Eren whips his head as you and your mother walk by him. 

“Eren, we need to leave now. Time’s up,” Zeke shouts, grabbing his wrist and pulling him. You follow your mother back to the castle, sitting in your room wondering how many adventures you missed. You make your way to your balcony and sit on the ledge, watching the waves crash into the castle walls. Your mother joins you, watching the moon shine in the sky. She runs her hand down your back.

“I want to swim and-”

“The water is dangerous. You’ve heard your father’s stories about the unknown and those disgusting creatures that will drown you given the chance. You must never go, so leave it alone.” She states. You sigh.

“One day, you will understand. Those creatures murdered your uncle. The sea is no place for a princess.” She says, kissing your head and leading you back inside. Your mother braids your hair and tucks you into bed. 

“Goodnight, my sweet girl,” She says, blowing out the candle. You close your eyes and drift to sleep with thoughts of the water. 

12 years later 

“Are you coming to the cove?” Historia whispers. You turn to your best friend and glare at her.

“My mother is literally two feet away.” You elbow her side. She smiles and whispers, “Sorry.”

“Yes, I’ll be there, " you reply, walking over to your mother and handing her a necklace.

“What are you ladies getting into tonight?” Your mother asks.

“I have some studying to get done and-”

“Sweetheart, I was your age once. Be truthful,” Your mother warns you. You glare at Historia and shake your head.

“We are meeting down at the cove to celebrate Reiner’s birthday,” Historia shouts. Your mother turns around.

“You are not allowed at the cove. You are forbidden to-”

“Mom, come on. I will be 22 years old. I know how to take care of myself. I won’t get in the water. I promise.”

“Come on, Mrs.-”

The queen’s glare stops Historia in her sentence.

“Your Highness, we will take extra care of the princess. Especially Reiner.” Historia whispers the last part, and you elbow her again.

“It’s not just about your safety.” Your mother shouts.

“Then what else is it about?”

Your mother sighs and covers her face with her hands. 

“Please be back by midnight, and do not tell your father,” She says. You hug your mother and squeal. Whether you got permission or not, you were going to end up at the cove tonight. But with permission is always better. You promise to be back home by midnight.

You give your mother a gentle smile, and without a word, you lift her hand and press a soft kiss on its back before intertwining your fingers with hers.

 “Still, my little girl, I see.” She chuckles softly.

You smile up at her. “Always.”

With a playful swing, you sway your hands back and forth between you, something you used to do as a child whenever she held your hand. Your mother lets out a rare, soft laugh, indulging you for just a moment before you both reach the doors of the grand dining hall.

The guards bow and pull the doors open. Inside, your father, King Aldric,  is already seated at the long dining table, sipping from a goblet of wine. The air smells of roasted meats, spiced vegetables, and fresh-baked bread.

He looks up as you enter, and his stern face softens. “There’s my princess.”

You release your mother’s hand and step forward, taking your seat across from him. “Good afternoon, Father. What have you been up to today?”

The king sets down his goblet: “I am preparing to take my ship out. We are going to scout the seas for any sign of those sea devils. Mikasa is finally ready to join us. She has been preparing the whole morning, which is why she’s skipping breakfast with us.”

Your stomach tightens. The warmth of the moment instantly fades, replaced by a heavy unease in your chest. You grip the fabric of your skirt beneath the table.

“Is that… necessary?” you ask beyond a whisper. 

Your father frowns. “Of course it is.” He said firm. “We must remain vigilant. Those monsters are dangerous, and I refuse to let them roam freely.” His gaze softens just slightly as he looks at you. “I do this to keep the world safe for you, my dearest.”

You shift uncomfortably in your seat. “But… not all merfolk can be evil. Just as not all humans are good.”

The room became silent. Your father’s expression darkens, his knuckles tightening against the table. Then, a loud slam. You flinch as his fist crashes down onto the polished wood, rattling the silverware.

“Do not be foolish!” he shouts. “You know nothing of the horrors those creatures have inflicted upon this world! I will not stand by while you speak like they deserve mercy!”

You crumble in defeat, lowering your gaze with your heart pounding against your ribs.

Across the table, your mother sighs but does not interfere. You know she has long since learned that your father’s mind cannot be changed on this matter.

Your father breathes heavily before slowly exhaling, his fury cooling into something more restrained. He leans back in his chair, rubbing his temple, before speaking again in a softer voice.

“You have your mother’s heart,” he says at last. “Soft. Kind. But kindness is a weakness when facing creatures like them. You must be careful, my love. Sea devils are known for taking advantage of good people like you.”

You bite the inside of your cheek, forcing yourself to nod. “Yes, Father.”

But deep inside, you know that he’s wrong. 

You excuse yourself from the table and sprint to your room to get ready, telling Historia you will meet her there. Reiner knocks on your door, and you pull him in. He blushes as you kiss his cheek.

“I got permission to go down to the cove for your party.” You squeal with excitement. Reiner watches you twirl.

“Have you given 'us' a thought?”

You freeze in your tracks. You’ve been drifting closer to Reiner for the last two years. Tiptoeing around the relationship aspect of your friendship due to him working closely with your father.

“Reiner, we are better this way, no? I don’t think we should complicate things with titles.” 

Reiner chuckles and takes a seat on your bed.

“You’re the only person I’ve been into for two years. I thought at some point...I don’t know.” He chuckles, rubbing his neck.

“I’m sorry. You’re one of my best friends. I just don’t see us going outside of friendship.” You take a seat next to him. 

“Is there someone that you do like?” He asks, rubbing your hand. 

“Not at this moment. I just like my independence. That doesn’t mean I will never fall in love with you,” You laugh, bumping his shoulder. Reiner nods with a chuckle. He leaves you to get ready with your friends, who knock on the door. 

Historia adjusts the ribbons on her dress while Annie leans against the vanity, arms crossed, observing the chaos with a bored expression. Mikasa, just returned from the king’s ship, pulls off her boots with a sigh, rubbing at her arms as if shaking off the lingering weight of the sea air.

“You look exhausted,” Historia comments, tilting her head.

Mikasa huffs. “Your father runs his crew like a war camp,” she mutters, looking at you. “He’s convinced that merfolk are lurking in the waters, waiting to drag us under.”

You force a small laugh, though your stomach churns at the mention of sea devils. 

“Did you see anything interesting?” you ask, trying to keep the conversation light.

Mikasa shrugs. “Just waves, wind, and men too afraid to look overboard at night.” She pauses, then glances at you. “You should be careful. Your father is becoming more paranoid.”

You nod, but before you can respond, Historia claps her hands. “Enough talk about sea monsters. We have a party to get to!”

Annie raises a brow. “And this is supposed to be fun?”

Historia grins, linking arms with you. “Of course! The music, the drinks, the dancing. You’ll love it.”

Annie sighs but doesn’t protest as the four of you finish getting ready and make your way to Reiner’s cove party.

By the time you arrive, the cove is already alive with laughter, music, and the warm glow of lanterns swaying in the evening breeze. 

Reiner is the first to spot you, grinning as he strides forward. Before you can react, his arm wraps around your waist, drawing you close.

“There she is,” he says, voice rich with amusement. “My special friend.”

You blink at him, confused by the warmth in his tone, but before you can question it, he’s already introducing you to others.

“This is Porco, Marcel,” Reiner gestures to two men who bow respectfully. “And you already know the rest.”

Porco smirks. “Didn’t realize we were in the presence of royalty.”

Marcel elbows him lightly, offering you a polite smile. “It’s an honor, Princess.”

Embarrassment flushes through you, and you quickly shake your head. “Please, just call me by my name. No need for formalities.”

The two exchange amused glances before nodding. “As you wish.”

With that, the night continues in a blur of music and conversation. You dance, laugh, and drink, letting the warmth of the celebration wrap around you like a comforting embrace. 

Historia stumbles over to you at some point, breathless from laughter and wine. “I just heard Reiner talking,” she giggles, leaning in close. “He said, ‘I feel a bit brave tonight.’”

Your stomach twists.

You care for Reiner; you do, but not in the way he seems to want. And right now, you don’t want to have that conversation again on his party. Not when the night is still young.

“I should—” You glance around, looking for an escape.

Without another word, you slip away, leaving the party behind as you step toward the quiet sound of the waves.

You walk on the beach, letting the warm, salty air fill your senses. You stop at the rocks and skip across them, giggling and singing. You take a misstep and slip into the water. You come up for air but realize you skipped out too far and are in a deeper part of the water. You gasp for air as the water tosses you around. Curse your parents for never letting you take swimming lessons. Now, you’re going to drown. Sad, drunk, and stupid. Suddenly, hands are on your hips and pushing you up. You grab onto the rock and climb up, coughing. When you calm down, you look over at the guy who saved you. His head peeks out of the water as he stares at you.

“Thank you,” you laugh. Beautiful, you think to yourself, staring at your hero. He comes closer and lifts your dress. You kick him and squeal.

“Pervert! What are you doing?” You shout.

“I just wanted to see your legs,” He mumbles against the water as he sinks back down. His green eyes look mesmerizing against the blue of the water. You cock your head to the side, and he mirrors you. You finally notice the fins sticking out of his head. 

“Are you a mermaid?” You whisper, leaning closer. You lie on your belly, leaning in.

“I’m a male.”

“Merman?” You ask. He nods.

“Can I see your fishtail?”

“I’m not a fish,” He pouts. Your eyes light up as his tail peeks out of the water. You reach out to touch the head fins at the tips of his ears, but someone calls your name. You turn in that direction, seeing Mikasa walking over. The mysterious merman is gone when you look back his way. You frown and get off the rock. Mikasa helps you back to shore, scolding you for almost drowning. That night, you dream of the beautiful merman. He wasn’t like the tales you've heard. Everyone says they’re ugly and have claws and sharp teeth. But he looked human besides the obvious. Every day for a week, you went down to the rock, hoping to meet your merman. It wasn’t until night 10 that he appeared.

“Are you stalking me?” He asks. You sit down, smiling.

“Stalking would mean I would know where you were at and actively following you.” You laugh. The merman swims around the rock, watching you. You tell him your name, and he hums.

“Eren,” He replies. You smile, feeling victorious that you got a name out of him. You lie on your belly and put your hand out as he swims closer. Eren lets you touch his fin ears.

“You’re so pretty,” You whisper. Eren smiles.

“I’ve been told,” He smirks. You roll your eyes at his cockiness.

“Why don’t you know how to swim? Don’t all humans know how to swim?” He asks, swimming around your rock.

“My parents won’t allow it.”

“That’s dangerous. Try not to fall into the ocean again,” Eren replies, sinking into the water so that only his eyes remain. 

A small smile creeps at your lips. “I won’t,” you tilt your head slightly, still gazing down at him. “However, it’s less scary now that I know you’ll save me again.”

Eren blinks, caught off guard, before scoffing and shaking his head. “You’re reckless; humans are strange,” he mutters.

You laugh softly, “And you’re not?”

He doesn’t argue. Instead, his expression shifts. He props his arms against the rock, locking his eyes on yours. “What’s it like up there?” he asks. 

“Me and Armin, he’s my closest friend; we used to dream about living in the human world when we were little. We’d talk about it all the time, how the sky never ends, how the land stretches forever.”

Your heart softens at his words. The longing and curiosity are things you understand all too well. “I’ve always been curious about the sea,” you admit. “What’s it like? Where do you live? How do you live?”

“What, so humans don’t tell stories about the terrifying monsters beneath the waves?” He says smirking.

“They do. My father makes sure of that.” You smile.

His smirk fades slightly at the mention of the king, but he doesn’t think too much of it.

 “The sea…” he starts, staring at its endless horizon, “…it’s alive. It’s never the same, always moving, always changing. There are places so dark and deep that no light ever reaches them and places so bright with coral and fish that it looks like the stars fell into the water.”

You listen intently, imagining it in front of you. 

Eren glances back at you. “I live with my people, deep beneath the waves. We have cities, homes carved into the cliffs, bioluminescent lights guiding the way.” His eyes soften at your wide, curious eyes. “It’s not like here. There’s no sky, no sun setting over the horizon. Just the water, stretching forever.” He smiles. 

Your fingers brush against the water’s surface, sending small ripples across it. “It sounds beautiful.”

“It indeed is, but it can be caging at times.” You could see a hint of sadness in his eyes. 

“How can something so big and majestic feel caging?” You asked, smiling at the horizon. 

“I don’t know. Ever since I was 10, it felt like something was missing. I feel like whatever is missing is in your world.” Eren barely whispered. 

“Whatever you’re searching for. I want to help you. As a thank you for saving me.” 

Eren gives you a genuine smile. 

“When will I see you again?” You ask, not wanting this to be your final goodbye. 

“You’ll sense when I’m near the way I sense when you’re near. You’ll know when and how to find me,” and he was right. 

And Eren was right. You were getting ready for bed, but it felt like someone was pulling you with an invisible thread. You rose up from bed, grabbed your bag, and snuck out to the rock. 

You found Eren sitting on the rock, his tail flicking idly in the water as he watched you. You carefully pulled out a long, gold metal object and put it on your left eye, closing your right one.

“What is that?” he asks, narrowing his eyes.

“It’s called a telescope,” you say, adjusting it. “It helps you see things that are far away. Like ships in the distance.”

Eren leans forward, inspecting it as if it may bite him. “That tiny thing lets you see farther?”

You nod, gesturing for him to look through it. “Here. Try it.”

He hesitates before pressing his eye against the lens. The moment the image sharpens, he jerks back violently, nearly falling off the rock. His tail flaps against the water with a loud splash.

“What the hell?!” He glares at the telescope, then at you. “It-it brought everything right in front of me!” He shoves it away like it’s cursed.

“That’s the point, Eren!” You laugh.

He scowls but leans in again, more cautiously this time. “I can see the cliffs, every single rock from here! This is insane.” He moves the telescope slightly. “There’s a ship! I can see the people on it!”

You smile as he explores the device.

“This thing is dangerous,” he mutters, still peering through it. 

“I need one.” He grins. 

A few nights later, Eren comes from the sea with a large, beautiful white shell in his hands.

You watch in awe as he holds it up. “This is a conch shell. It’s not just pretty; it can make a sound loud enough to be heard across the sea.”

You lean in closer, admiring its details. “It’s beautiful…”

Eren smirks and lifts it to his lips. He blows into it, and a deep, echoing horn-like sound rings out over the water.  The sound sends a shiver down your spine.

“That was incredible.” Your eyes widen.

“Try it.” He hands it to you. 

You take the shell, positioning it the way he did. You take a deep breath and blow. However, an awkward, pathetic fart sound comes out.

Eren immediately laughs as he clutches his stomach. “That sounded like the noise Sasha makes after eating too much seaweed!”

Your face heats up in embarrassment. You scoop up a handful of water and splash it right into his face.

Eren gasps dramatically, wiping his face. “Hey!” He’s still laughing.

“That wasn’t that bad,” you grumble, crossing your arms.

Eren smirks, flicking his tail to send a few splashes of water your way. “Alright, alright. I’m sorry,” he says, though the amusement in his voice makes it clear he’s not sorry at all. “Here, let me show you again.”

He takes the conch, adjusts his grip, and blows into it once more. 

“That’s… beautiful.” You stare at him, amazed.

“Told you.” Eren grins. He hands it back to you. “Try again. Less… fart, more breath.”

You roll your eyes but can’t help smiling as you bring the conch to your lips

Then, you remembered.

“Wait here!” you say suddenly, pushing the shell back into Eren’s hands.

“Wait…where are you going?” Eren says, raising an eyebrow.

But you’re already up, running towards the castle. 

A few minutes later, you return, slightly out of breath, holding a golden horn.

Eren’s eyes widen. He tilts his head, inspecting it. “Another one of those things that lets you see farther?” he guesses. 

“No, it’s not a telescope. It’s a horn, just like your conch shell.” You laugh. 

He blinks in surprise, clearly intrigued. You bring the horn to your lips and blow. A powerful sound bursts through the air, echoing across the waves. 

Eren visibly shivers, with his arms covered in goosebumps. 

“That’s… almost the same as the conch.” He grins, shaking his head in amazement. “So humans and merfolk aren’t that different after all.”

“Your turn.” You hand him the horn with a  smile

Eren scoffs, rolling his eyes. “This’ll be easy.” He lifts it confidently, takes a deep breath, and blows. However, the sound it makes is weak, similar to the one you made with the conch shell.

“Oh—oh my gods—Eren!” You burst out laughing so hard you nearly fell off the rock.

Eren’s face immediately flushes red. He sinks into the water, only letting his green eyes remain above the surface, glaring at you as you laugh.

“Not funny,” he mutters, voice muffled by the water.

“It’s hilarious! You…you sounded just like I did with the conch!” You clutch your stomach, gasping for air between your giggles.

“Please forget this happened.” Eren groans. 

“Oh, come on, Eren, don’t be such a sore loser…” Still giggling, you kneel by the rock, leaning in toward him.

Eren lifts one hand from the water and motions for you to come closer. His eyes softened, and his lips parted slightly like he wanted to say something.

You slowly lean in. Your heart pounds as he reaches up, his fingers gently caressing your cheek. His touch is warm despite the cool sea breeze, his thumb grazing your skin in a soft motion.

Suddenly, your eyes flutter closed, and an unexpected burst of water hits you directly in the face. You gasp, sputtering as Eren laughs. You blink rapidly, wiping the seawater from your face. “Eren…you…”

“What? You looked like you were expecting something else.” He grins mischievous 

“I hate you.” You scowl. 

“No, you don’t.” Eren smirks, flicking his tail, sending another playful splash in your direction. And damn it, you really don’t.

You wipe the last of the water from your face, still glaring at Eren, his beautiful laugh makes it impossible to stay mad. You grin at Eren, determined to prove yourself. Lifting the conch shell to your lips, you take a deep breath and blow.

At first, there was resistance. The shell seemed a bit stubborn, the sound refusing to come out properly. But then, something clicked. The deep, haunting call of the conch came out clearly. Your eyes widen in surprise. “I did it!”

Eren blinks, then lets out a low whistle. “Not bad, beautiful. Took you long enough.” You stick your tongue out at him before shoving the golden horn into his hands. “Your turn.”

 “If this thing makes me sound like Sasha again, I swear…”

“Just try it,” you insist, crossing your arms.

He exhales and lifts the horn, positioning it as he saw you do before. He takes a deep breath, and a strong, powerful note blasts into the air.

Eren stares at the horn in his hands, then grins. “Hah! I did it!”

“See? I knew you could do it!” You laugh, clapping your hands together.

He looks over at you, an excited glint in his eyes. “Okay, together this time.”

You nod, raising the conch shell at the same time as he lifts the horn. For a second, you both locked eyes before inhaling profoundly and blowing into the instruments at the same time.

The sounds merged in a beautiful harmony. Harmony of two sounds that belonged to both land and sea.

When the echoes finally fade, you and Eren burst into laughter. “Alright,” Eren chuckles, tossing the horn into your lap. “I’ll admit it, this human thing isn’t so bad.”

You smirk. “And I’ll admit that the conch is pretty cool, too.”

At that moment, beneath the star-filled sky, you realize that maybe your worlds aren’t as far apart as you believed.

The evening after, you had a small basket in your hands when you arrived at your usual meeting spot. Eren was already there, resting against the rock with his arms crossed behind his head and his tail lazily flicking the water.

When he saw you, he propped himself up on his elbows. “What’s that?” he said, raising his eyebrow in curiosity. 

You sat down beside him, unwrapping the cloth to reveal the food you had gathered.  It was bread, fruit, cheese, and a few pastries you’d managed to sneak from the castle kitchens.

“Human food,” you say, grinning. “I figured if I get to learn about the sea, it’s only fair you learn about the land.”

“It doesn’t move,” Eren said, skeptical. 

 “Uh… no?” You blink.

“Then how do you know it’s fresh?”

You stare at him. “Not all food has to be alive before you eat it, Eren.”

He scowls as if this is some great injustice but picks up a piece of bread. He turns it over in his hands, sniffing it before finally taking a bite.

His jaw slows as he lets the bread roll around his tastebuds. 

“...This is actually good.”

You watch in amusement as his eyes widen slightly, chewing quicker now. 

“See? I told you!”. He swallows and immediately grabs another bite. 

You hand him a piece of a ripe peach. He hesitates before sinking his teeth into it. A drop of juice dribbles down his chin. “Sweet,” he mumbles, swiping his tongue across his lips. He looks almost entranced, like he wasn’t expecting something to taste like that.

You laugh at his expression, handing him a piece of cheese next. “Here, try this.”The moment it touches his tongue, his face contorts. He flinches so fast that he nearly slips off the rock. 

“What the hell was that?!” he sputters, wiping his tongue like you poisoned him.

“It’s cheese!” You said, bursting into laughter.

“That’s disgusting!” He glares at it like it personally wronged him. “It tastes sour and weirdly… salty!”

“Alright, no cheese for you.” You snatch it back, still laughing

Eren groans but brightens again when you pull out a small pastry. It’s golden brown and dusted with sugar, a special treat meant for nobles. It's one you weren’t supposed to take.

“This one’s sweet,” you tell him, handing it over.

He sees it suspiciously but takes a careful bite after his success with the peach.

The moment the sugary taste hits his tongue, his whole body stills. You watch, waiting. Eren’s entire face lights up.

“Oh, shit,” he mumbles, shoving the rest into his mouth. “This is amazing.”

“You like it?” You giggle.

“I love it.” His voice is muffled through a full mouth. He swallows quickly, already looking at your bundle like he’s searching for more. “Do all human foods taste like this?”

You smirk. “Not the cheese.”

He scowls at you before turning back to the empty cloth. “You should’ve brought more.”

You roll your eyes, tearing off a piece of your own pastry to hand to him. “Here.”

Eren blinks, staring between you and the food. A small smirk tugs at his lips before he leans far closer than necessary to pluck the pastry straight from your fingers with his teeth.

You hold your breath as his warm and soft lips barely brush your fingertips. His eyes flick up to yours as he chews, amused at your expression.

“You taste sweet,” he says in a low voice. Your heart skips a beat. 

He then grins. “Unlike the cheese.”

You shove him. He laughs, nearly falling into the water, but he’s still grinning when he resurfaces, licking the sugar off his lips.

“Bring more of those next time,” he says.

“Fine. But only if you promise not to insult cheese again.” You shake your head, smiling.

Eren groans dramatically. “No promises.”

You sit on your usual rock, your feet dangling just above the water's surface, knowing that he’ll visit you again. However, Eren is quieter than usual this time. He floats just below you, his arms resting lazily against the rock while. He looks at you, then away, as if he’s debating something.

You tilt your head. “You’re acting weird.”

His eyes snap back to you, and he scoffs. “I don’t act weird.”

You raise a brow. “You’re also a terrible liar. I can see your ears turning red.”

Eren exhales before, rolling his eyes, but you notice the way his fingers curl against the rock. There's something on his mind.

“Here,” he mutters. 

Before you can ask what he means, he reaches into the water and pulls out tiny pearls strung along shells and ocean stones. 

You held your breath at the sight of it. 

“I, uh…” Eren rubs the back of his neck. “It’s a bracelet that I made. So you always have a piece of the sea with you.”

Your finger shakes slightly as you reach out for it, letting him place it in your hand. You study it, the care he puts into it makes your heart flutter. 

“You made this?” you murmur, still studying it. 

Eren shrugs, looking to his side. “It’s not like the fancy stuff I see some of the land women wear, but…”

“It’s beautiful, I love it.” You interrupted with a soft voice. 

“Yeah?” When his eyes finally met yours, he seemed almost vulnerable. Eren could feel his ears on fire.  

You nod, smiling. “Will you help put it on?” you straighten your right arm, flicking down your wrist, inviting him to put it on you. His brows lift slightly like he wasn’t expecting that. But then, after a brief hesitation, he moves closer.

You hold your breath as his fingers brush against your wrist, tying the bracelet in place. Eren then rests your hand on his. Your hand is warm, Eren holds you like that for a moment before snapping out of it. 

He quietly murmurs, “Looks good on you.”

Your heart skipped a bit.

You don’t know what to say, so you simply smile, fingers ghosting over the shells. “Now I have something from the sea. A piece of your world.”

Something changes in his expression. He opens his mouth like he’s about to say something, but then his tail flicks, sending a splash of seawater right at you.

You gasp, wiping water from your face. “Eren!” He’s already grinning, disappearing under the waves before you can retaliate. But even as you shake your head, still flustered, your fingers don’t leave the bracelet resting on your arm, and you don’t stop smiling. 

The morning air is thick with the scent of warm bread and sweet honey, but you barely get to taste it.

Not when your father’s gaze is on you.“Where in the market did you get it?” he asks. 

You pause, fingers brushing over the bracelet wrapped around your wrist. 

You shouldn’t have worn it for breakfast; it should have been hidden. But it was a gift from him. And part of you wanted to keep it close, never wanting to take it off.

You lift your teacup to your lips. “There was a small stall near the fountain square,” you say, trying to sound casual. An older woman was selling ocean-themed jewelry. She said it was crafted from materials gathered near the shore.”

Your father doesn’t look convinced. He leans forward, examining the bracelet. “Strange,” he mutters. “I have never seen such craftsmanship before.” Your pulse is on a speed run. 

You force a light laugh. “The market is always changing, Father. New merchants come and go. Perhaps you simply haven’t come across their wares.”

Your father grunts, still staring at the bracelet as if trying to uncover its secrets. His fingers tighten around his goblet. “I will have the market searched. If there is truly a merchant with such skill, I will have them brought to the castle.”

Panic flares in your chest, but you keep your expression composed.

“There’s no need for that,” you say quickly. “It was just a small trinket. Hardly something worth investigating.”

Your father’s eyes flick up to yours. You hold his gaze, keeping your expression neutral, not trying to seem suspicious. 

Another long, tense silence stretches between you before he exhales, shaking his head. “Hmph. As long as you are not wandering where you shouldn’t be.”

You nod, lowering your gaze to your plate. “Of course.”

A quiet clink draws your attention, and your mother sets her teacup down gently. Unlike your father, she has remained silent throughout the conversation, but she is wearing her infamous mask, and you can’t read her when you glance at her.

She studies you and then smiles. She doesn’t believe you, but she lets it go.

Your father moves on, shifting the conversation elsewhere, but the tension still lingers in the air.

You grip the bracelet beneath the table, heart pounding.

Your secret is safe for now.

The night wasn’t as quiet as usual as you could hear the cries of the seagulls around the beach; however, you couldn’t help but smile for yourself. Eren’s gesture last night made you grin from ear to ear, feeling fluttered everywhere possible. You were walking towards your usual rock, feeling that Eren might be there waiting. And you were right. As you sat on your rock, skimming your feet in the water. Eren was there, resting his arms on the rock. 

“I want to show you something,” he says. 

You watch curiously as he dips beneath the waves for a brief moment before resurfacing with something in his hands. As he lifts it toward you, the moonlight catches its glossy surface. It was a large, pearlescent seashell.

You take it carefully, and the incredible, smooth texture is pressing against your fingers. It’s beautiful…”

Eren smirks. “It’s more than that.” He leans in slightly. “Put it against your ear, " he says.

You glance at him before hesitantly pressing the shell close,​​ hoping no sea creature is hidden inside. And then, the sound fills your ears. It’s not just a hum or the distant echo of waves. It’s singing. A haunting melody, like the voice of the ocean itself. The sound consumes you. It is familiar yet unreachable, like a memory buried in your soul.

Your chest tightens as nostalgia hits you. Your breath shakes, and a single tear slips down your cheek before you can stop it.

Eren notices instantly. “Hey…” His voice shifts, softer now, almost alarmed. Without thinking, he reaches out, his fingers grazing your cheek as he wipes the tear away. His touch is gentle as his eyes lock onto yours.

For a moment, neither of you speak. He’s so close now, his face just inches from yours, his eyes flickering from your tear-stained cheek down to your lips. The waves are the only witness to the way the world slows down, your heart pounding in rhythm with the ocean.

Eren swallows, his breath warm against your skin. He leans in, just slightly. Then, suddenly, his tail twitches, breaking the moment. Realizing how awfully close he is, his face flushes, and he jerks back. “I—I should go.”

You blink, dazed. “What?”

“I’ll, uh…see you next time.” He doesn’t meet your gaze as he slips back into the water, his movements stiff, did he just panic? Is he okay?  Before you can say anything, he’s gone. You lay on your back, annoyed at Eren teasing you. 

On the other hand, Eren swims fast, cutting through the water with force, but no matter how far he goes, he can’t escape the fluttering feeling in his heart.

“Idiot,” he mutters to himself, running a hand down his face. “What the hell was that?”

He froze. He messed up. You were right there, so close he could feel your breath, so close he could’ve just…ugh!

His mind plays games with him, painting the image of your lips being soft and inviting.

His whole body tenses. What would they feel like? Would they be warm gentle? Would you have also leaned closer?

He groans, shoving his hands through his hair. What the hell am I thinking?

He never gets this nervous. He’s never been the type to shy away, but around you, everything feels different. He feels that his thoughts and body are no longer his to control.

And the worst part? He wants more. He wants to feel you in every way possible. 

The realization slams into him like a wave, and he clenches his fists, frustration curling in his chest. “I need to get a grip,” he mutters. 

“Eren!”

His head snaps up just as Armin swims toward him, looking slightly breathless. “I’ve been looking for you.”

“Why?” Eren scowls, crossing his arms. It’s probably his father wanting him to join the soldiers for a training session. 

“You disappeared again.” He says, lifting one eyebrow. Then, after a small pause, his eyes narrow slightly. “Why’s your face all red?”

Eren stiffens. “It’s not red.”

Armin raises his eyebrow again, glancing between Eren and the direction he just came from. Armin crosses his arms, his sharp blue eyes locked onto Eren. “You keep disappearing. Where have you been?”

“Nowhere important.” Eren scoffs, flicking his tail impatiently.

Armin’s gaze narrows. “Nowhere important?” He tilts his head. “Eren, you vanish for hours; every time I ask, you get all weird about it.”

“I do not get weird.”

“You so do.”

“I don’t have to tell you everything, Armin.” Eren huffs and turns away, suddenly feeling cornered. It became silent for a moment before Eren turned around to face his friend. 

Eren expects Armin to push back, maybe sigh in exasperation, but when he glances over his shoulder, he freezes. There it is, betrayal in Armin’s eyes. Eren grits his teeth. He hates that look. He knows Armin isn’t trying to guilt him, but it still makes his chest ache. They never hide anything from each other, and right now, Armin feels his best friend slip through his fingers, 

With a frustrated groan, he runs a hand down his face. “Fine.” Armin raises a brow, waiting.

“I—I’ve been meeting someone.” Armin’s eyes widen slightly, and his tail flickers in excitement. “Someone?” Eren sighs, rubbing the back of his neck. “A human.” Armin tenses, his expression shifting from curiosity to concern. “Eren—”

“She’s not like the others,” Eren interrupts, already knowing what Armin is about to say. “She’s kind. She’s curious about the ocean, just like I’m curious about the land. She…”

Eren tries to stop himself, but it’s too late. His mind is already spiraling, caught in the memory of your laughter, curious brown eyes, and how you looked at him with such love when he gave you the bracelet.

“She’s… amazing,” he says, almost breathless. “She teaches me things about the human world, things I never even knew existed.” His voice grows more and more excited with every word he speaks, his tail flicking excitedly. “Like, did you know humans have these things called telescopes that let you see faraway objects up close? And their horns, gods, they sound just like the conch shells in the ocean!”

Armin just stares. 

“What?” Eren frowns, feeling his cheeks burn. 

“…I have never seen you like this before,” Armin says, blinking.

“Like what?” Eren scowls

“Like this.” Armin gestures at him vaguely. “Like some lovestruck guppy.”

“I—I am not—” Eren sputters.

Armin crosses his arms, unconvinced. Eren knew that he’d embarrass himself more if he denied it to Armin. 

Eren groans, throwing his hands up. “Just…come with me. There’s something I want to show you.”

Eren leads Armin through the winding coral reefs, past hidden coves and a group of glimmering fish, until they reach a secluded rock formation. A small hollow carefully concealed by seaweed is nestled within the crevice of two large stones.

Eren looks around, making sure no one else is nearby before reaching into the hiding spot. He pulls out the telescope and the golden horn and holds them up.

Armin’s eyes widen at the sight of what Eren is holding. “Are those—”

“Treasures from the land,” Eren says, grinning. “Come on.”

He grabs Armin’s wrist and tugs him upward. The two break through the ocean’s surface, bobbing in the waves as Eren lifts the telescope. “Here. Look through this.”

Armin hesitates before taking it, pressing the lens against his right eye. The moment he spots a ship in the distance, his jaw drops. “Oh my gods, Eren, this is incredible!” He spins in the water, turning the telescope toward the stars and distant cliffs. “You can see everything! Up close without actually being close!”

Eren smirks, pleased. “Told you.”

“This… this is like magic.” Armin laughs in amazement before lowering the telescope.

Eren’s grin widens. “And that’s not all.” He lifts the golden horn. “This works just like a conch shell. Watch.” He takes a deep breath and blows into it, producing a loud sound. 

Armin is filled with excitement. “No way! Let me try!”

Eren hands it over, and Armin immediately attempts to blow into it, but only a weak, pitiful noise comes out. Eren busts out laughing. “Ha! You sound worse than I did.” 

Armin glares. “That’s not fair-”

“You should’ve seen her face when she tried the conch Armin! It was adorable—”

Armin freezes. Then, slowly, a slow smirk creeps onto his face. “You like her.”

Eren stiffens. “Shut up.”

“You do like her!”

Eren groans, shoving a hand through his hair. “That’s not the point.” He straightens, looking Armin dead in the eyes. “I want you to meet her.”

Armin blinks. “Wait. You want me to—”

“She’d love to meet you,” Eren says.  “And I want her to understand Merfolk better. You’re the smartest person I know. You can help her understand our world better, just like she’s been helping me.”

Armin stares at him, clearly processing this. Then, after a long pause, his face softens.

“…Alright,” he says, smiling. “I’d love to meet her.”

Eren grins, feeling excitement rush through him, hugging his friend. 

The evening after, the ocean shines under the full moon as you make your way to the shoreline, the soft hum of the waves filling you with peace. You are carrying a small basket wrapped in cloth, which contains a small surprise for Eren.

You can’t help but smile. The last time he tried these pastries, his eyes had lit up like the stars. You had spent all afternoon sneaking around the castle kitchen, making sure to grab enough to spoil him a bit.

As you reach the usual meeting spot, you catch sight of Eren resting near the water’s edge. His green eyes lock onto you, and his lips tug into that mischievous grin you’ve grown so fond of.

However, as you approached, you noticed that someone else was with him. You freeze, your breath catching as another merman lifts himself partially out of the water beside Eren. He has golden hair and soft blue eyes. 

Your fingers tighten around the basket. 

“Eren? Who is this?” You ask nervously, not wanting to upset the other merman. 

Eren rubs the back of his neck, looking suspiciously sheepish. “Uh… surprise?”

You blink multiple times with a fake smile on your face.

The other merman chuckles. “I told you she might not appreciate being ambushed, Eren.”

Eren scowls. “It’s not an ambush. It’s a…” He pauses, searching for the right word. “A… spontaneous introduction.”

The blonde merman sighs, then offers you a polite smile. “My name is Armin. I’m Eren’s best friend.”

You hesitate for a moment before nodding. “It’s nice to meet you, Armin.” Then, you turn to Eren with a pointed look. “You could have told me you were bringing someone.”

“I figured you’d be fine with it.” Eren shrugs

“You’re impossible.” You sigh but can’t help the small smile tugging at your lips. Eren smirks. “You like me anyway.” 

Your face warms. “That’s beside the point.”

Armin watches the exchange with clear amusement. “You two are close, aren’t you?”

Neither of you respond immediately. Instead, your eyes briefly meet Eren’s, and you two have an awkward silence. 

Before the moment can stretch too long, you clear your throat and hold up the basket. “I actually brought something.”

Eren perks up immediately. “For me?”

You nod and kneel, carefully unfolding the cloth to reveal an assortment of golden pastries. Their warm, buttery scent fills the air.

Eren’s eyes widen. “No way.”

“You liked them last time,” you say with a small smile. “So I thought I’d bring more.”

Eren stares at you for a moment before grinning. “You’re amazing.”

Armin looks between the two of you, intrigued. “He’s had these before?”

You nod. “Last time he tried human food, he nearly ate everything in sight.”

Eren huffs. “That’s an exaggeration.”

You arch a brow.

Eren grumbles. “Fine. Maybe I thought about stealing more.”

Armin chuckles before glancing at the pastries. “I’ve never tried human food before.”

Your face lights up. “Then you have to try one!” You carefully pick up a piece and hold it toward him.

Armin hesitates, then takes a cautious bite. The moment the taste registers, his eyes widen.

“Oh, wow.” He stares at the pastry like it holds the secrets of the universe. “This is—this is amazing!” He turns to Eren, incredulous. “Why didn’t you tell me it tasted this good?!”

Eren smirks. “I did.”

You laugh, watching as Armin eagerly takes another bite. “I can bring more next time if you’d like.”

Armin beams. “I’d love that.”

As the three of you settle into conversation, you quickly realize just how easy it is to talk to Armin. He asks endless questions about human life, about books, clothes, and even the strange contraptions used on ships. You answer eagerly, excited by his genuine curiosity.

In return, Armin tells you about the deep ocean, glowing creatures that dance in the dark, and lost ruins swallowed by the sea. His descriptions are vivid and filled with wonder; you hang onto every word.

Eren watches the two of you interact. He hadn’t realized how much this moment would mean to him, seeing his two worlds collide, seeing the two people he cares about most getting along so effortlessly.

For the first time in his life, it feels like he found what he lost all those years ago. However, he couldn’t wash away the unease you left him tonight. 

You bid your goodbyes before going your separate ways. “That’s funny, Eren. Her scent is quite special; it’s very complex.” Armin’s smile fades when he meets his best friend’s angry eyes. 

“It’s not fully her scent, It’s been tainted with another scent, a more masculine one,” Eren says behind his teeth. You felt a chill blow towards you when you finished waving them goodbye. You zipped up Reiner’s jacket before walking towards the castle.

[madcoincidence]

Next >

The Bioengineer's

Cybertronian Knight

1

Ratchet's younger life was a pretty normal one with only a few small ups and downs. Before all the chaos with the Quintessons, he had been the youngest to finish top of his classes and receive his Bioengineering PhD. He was strongly encouraged to further his education and thanks to his roommate at the time, it wasn't long before he returned to do just that. He had almost lost the dumbass when their apartment's designated research room exploded.

He never wanted to relive that feeling of helplessness he had while cradling Jackie's bloody shrapnel dusted face in his lap. Only able to wait for help while trying to keep pressure on the gushing wound from Jackie's thigh, it was a real bad time. After that he worked hard to earn the next step up from Bioengineering. He gained a Biomedical Engineering PhD while soaking up the training needed to do field triage. By the time he had finished everything, Jackie had fully recovered and finished building a much larger lab for them as an apology to Ratchet for destroying all their belongings.

"Level four. Bleeding has stopped and a safe neural link disconnection from the mecha is done. Give him oxygen and keep track of how long it takes for him to regain consciousness." Ratchet motions for his team to move in and lift the pilot out to their transport. Ratchet doesn't leave with them, stabilizing and disconnecting the pilot from the mecha suit was just step one of twenty-seven. His focus now shifts to shutting down the Mecha to stop the over heated frame and sparking wires from causing an explosion. While he works his multitasking brain shifts back to thinking over his life choices, ranting and banter has always helped steady his hands.

Jackie was a hazard to limbs but still not the worst to be around. No, that could go to Roddy and his meddling. The menace has tried setting him up with many blind dates. Thanks to him there was one blind date that few know of and wouldn't dare bring up if they value their vocal cords. The ones who do know of it have started calling it ‘the one night-’

Ratchet clicks his tongue with a heavy sigh as electricity and hot sparks fly and pop all around him. It laps against his gloved hands and hits his visor with snapping sizzles. Just as good ol’ Jackie promised, the suit is able to withstand whatever a seriously damaged Mecha can dish out. Unless it's an explosive level of damage, the suit can absorb or dispel the electrical current and heat. Ratchet wrangles a handful of the sparking stripped wires that are swaying above his head as he swipes through the smoking control panel. He smashes in all override codes, allowing the suit to start the shutdown protocols. He drifts back to mentally ranting while the metal frame around him pings and creaks.

Nah, compared to both Jackie and Roddy, Jazz and his mecha suit have to be the biggest migraine starter pack. That maniac tests Ratchet's skills almost daily, on and off the field. How many times has he saved Jazz's life? Too many times. Jazz is a devil of chaos in that mecha suit, always doing down right suicidal stunts anytime an opportunity strikes. Ratchet has personally worked with Jackie on Jazz's mecha to make sure the kid wouldn't end up frying himself or slip further into insanity. Still with all the care put into that mecha, Jazz's sanity is still debatable.

Yeah… keeping everyone sane and healthy is something that feeds into Ratchet's sleepless nights. He knows better than to think he can save everyone, he was never that naive. Still the harsh reality of how fragile life is hit hard and fast at the beginning of the Quintesson war. Those memories are buried deep down with the first prototypes of mecha suites. Despite everything, Ratchet still refuses to give up on anyone, he'll do everything in his power to save someone in his care. The small moments during down time, when he catches people smiling, singing, and laughing with friends thought lost to this war, helps make the nightmares just a bit easier to endure.

Ratchet stands up and swipes broken glass off his knees before grabbing the strap to his satchel. With the Mecha safely disabled Ratchet shrugs the strap over a shoulder and starts climbing out of the cockpit to start scanning the area for any more downed pilots. Being in the mecha had muffled the ear splitting screeches and roars of battle. Outside the mecha, everything echoed and rumbled through the hills and gullies, shaking the ground and trees. The trees where the bulk of the fight is happening have caught fire, turning the sky a hazy gray with a reddish orange hue. The fight has fallen closer to city limits but still hasn't reached the level of what the commanders would call a, ‘panic level threat’ to allow evacuation efforts. That, like many things, is not something Ratchet agrees with.

From his position on the Mecha's chest, Ratchet narrows his eyes to try and see through the smoke better. He spots specks of red light flickering from a gully to his left. It's close enough to him and his team that he can make out a mecha shaped form at the bottom, “Aid! Fix! With me! Everyone else, start hooking this up to the transport!” Ratchet yells above the noise while he climbs down the Mecha and hops off to the ground when close enough. Satisfied that his team immediately starts moving as soon as he gives orders, Ratchet starts jogging with Aid and Fix right behind him. “We need to move fast. I spotted a downed Mecha past that hill. Don't know how long it's been there. Since we haven't seen any mecha close to us while working, I am going to assume it's been a while.” Ratchet grips the strap to his satchel as he picks up the pace. The lights he saw means the mecha is still functional but no movement tells him the pilot is injured or worse.

- - - - - - - - -

While they catch their breath, Ratchet scans the gully to find the best way down, “Ratchet, sir... this is a really steep climb down. Let's find another way. Trying would be way too risky.” Fix rasps out as he wipes his forehead with his sleeve. Aid makes a wheezing noise while hunched over, hands on his knees. The smoke and soot is not doing their lungs any favors. 

“This thing stretches for miles. Quickest way is to climb down. Don't like it, stay up here.” Ratchet coughs to clear his throat as he squats down to look over the edge. At the bottom of the gully, laying on its side in murky pink tinted water is the damaged mecha. The lights he had spotted from before are coming from what seems to have been a space ship. From what Ratchet can see of the remains, it doesn't resemble a Quintesson transport vessel. Hard to say though since it's scattered everywhere. Some of the shredded debris is embedded into the walls of the gully. Larger pieces are scattered all around the mecha. Ratchet swings his legs over the edge and start climbing down. He ignores Fix's pleas and calls up to Aid, “Call for the mecha transporter. If it's stable enough to be moved, it might be safer to keep the pilot inside the cockpit.”  The two wheeze and mumble above him but he catches the click and static screech of a field radio turning on.

 As Ratchet climbs down he glances over his shoulder every now and then trying to see what he's working with. He notices a lot of damage to the plating on the mecha's arms, chest, and back. Possible damage to the cockpit has Ratchet taking the risk of using less sturdier holds for his hands and feet. Ratchet notes that the weird pink color in the water is coming from the deep gashes and holes littering the mecha's frame. The larger pieces of debris that Ratchet thought were from the ship turns out to be chunks of Quintessons. Ratchet exhales, steadying his nerves as he continues the climb down. When he deems it close enough, he clears the rest of the way by sliding down into the water with a splash. Thankfully it's only knee deep.

After fixing his strap and giving a dry cough, Ratchet pulls out his infamous wrench from the satchel and takes a step forward. The muddy bottom sucks his boots back down with every step forward, “Kid better be alive.” Ratchet mutters to himself, not wasting any more time he works his way towards the mecha. His breath catches when he sees how detailed the mecha's face is. Its lips are pulled into a tight thin-lined frown and the eyebrows are pinched together, creasing the area between its closed eyes. Like it can feel the wounds while unconscious, so expressive…. Ratchet shakes off that trail of thought before it can get started, “Pilots skipping face shields and visors for their mecha's now? Is this where the money is being wasted? Mecha used for commercials and toys shouldn't be out on the field. Wait till I get you out kid. If all of this was a stupid publicity stunt, you'll wish the Quintessons finished you off.”

He tightens his hold on the wrench as he makes it to the chest plates. His heart is pounding just a little faster but he continues to ignore all the red flags saying something is off about this mecha. If there's a chance there's someone in there, then he needs to try to save them. Besides, he has that gut feeling that he's needed here and that gut feeling has never failed him yet, “hot… but not a, going to blow up right now, kind of hot.” Ratchet mumbles as he slowly, barely, ghosts his gloved fingers tips over where the cockpits emergency release panel should be, “Not helpful kid. How am I supposed to get to you if I can't find the medical override..” He swears he saw a clawed finger twitch inside his peripheral vision. The weird muffled whirling noise coming from its chest picks up.

“Ratchet move!!” Aid and Fix scream out from above. Ratchet turns his head towards them then to the heavy thwumps and splashes from behind the mecha's frame. Ratchet curses and waves a hand for them to back away from the ledge and stay down. He grips the wrench in both hands and presses his back into the Mecha's chest plating. Very familiar blood chilling, high pitched chitters, and low hisses surround him. Tentacles slide around and on the mecha, moving past the frame closer to Ratchet. He doesn't dare breathe as one comes extremely close to brushing against his leg.

Many things happen in the next few minutes. The sound of shifting plates and a whirr chur noise comes from behind him. He ends up falling back into the water as the surface he was pressed against moves away way too fast to follow. Ratchet's cool blue eyes dart up to catch sight of a Quintesson with a mecha sized gun down its throat. He's barely able to register that before being drenched in muddy water and Quintessons blood as it rains down on him. He scrambles to clear his visor as chunks of the alien continues to hit the water. 

When he can see again he looks to his sides then up. The mecha is crouched above him, one knee had been very close to squishing him. The mecha tosses the gun to the side and this time that knee blocks Ratchet from the splash. Water with the weird pink liquid drizzles off the mecha as it grabs another Quintesson by the tentacles and yanks it towards them. Ratchet scoots back and stumbles to his feet as the mecha doesn't hesitate to sink it's claws into the Quintesson's head and lower jaw.

With a stomach flipping roar, the towering being above him rips off the Quintesson's jaw and toss it aside like the gun. The rest of the body is droped carelessly in front of them. Ratchet yells out as this time, once again, he's soaked. His suit is well past being comfortable anymore. Burning red eyes land on Ratchet for a split second before growing staticy, the mechanical being gives a sharp wince. The red static quickly becomes a solid but dimmer red as the mecha turns its upper torso to focus on the next charging Quintesson.

- - - - - - - - -

Ratchet definitely can't ignore the ‘this is not a mecha’ warnings anymore. Weird destroyed spaceship, red flag. Weird pink fluid leaking from the mecha, definitely not oil or lubricant, red flag. Mecha vocalizing through a moving mouth and showing hints of pain, big red flag. The moment the Quintessons are dealt with the 'not piloted by a human but very much mecha looking' being falls back onto their side. When the shaking from the large being's fall settles Ratchet had finished processing everything.

Right now to Ratchet, the only thing that matters is they're hurt and Ratchet may be able to help them. Ratchet trudges through the water towards the mechanical being as they give a static filled rumble, “Hush, you did enough. Thank you.” Ratchet places his palm on their cheek and rubs the warm metal trying to sooth them. He doubts it's really doing anything but he wants to sound and be as calm and sincere as he can.

He watches as the eye watching him darts to the edge of the gully where his teammates are yelling at him to be careful, “It's ok kid we're getting you out of here. Focus on me. Just me." The rumbles trickle away as the intense red glow shrinks back onto Ratchet. It flickers a few more times, then slowly dims till it's completely off. A lid slides over the eye closing with a soft click, “I've got you.” Ratchet promises switching the pets to a pat. With a shaky exhale, he starts planning out how he can fit this metal being into his quarters back on base. Jackie would be happy help him rearrange his sitting area.

*** *** ***

Next >

Sooooo, I realized I didn't start with how Ratchet and Deadlock meet in the TF Mecha Universe. I just hopped straight into the mushy stuff.

@keferon 's TF Mecha Universe has given me a spark of creativity again. So thank you Keferon for starting this chaos! It's beautiful. I am looking forward to writing this fanfic, it's quickly stolen all of my attention. I have a lot planned out and written up already, just sitting in my drafts . (even if it's taking forever for me to edit 😅) Anyways, I hope this was an enjoyable read!

Keferon has been overflowing with tons of wonderful asks, so I though I could make it a bit easier on them by figuring out how to post this fanfic here. Chapter Two: Finally doing last time Edits

[thejukeboxzero]

Got a nice long one for y'all, might be a little less smooth than the other chapters because this was written in increments during finals week when my brain was scattered like dust in the wind, but here's pt.6

_____

Becoming a regular face at the local, rundown dive bar has been an… interesting experience.

Cas has never been much of a drinker, save for special occasions or large events that he can’t stand attending without some form of buzz pushing him to socialize, but there’s something about The Roadhouse that keeps reeling him back in.

He could lie and say it’s a nice change of pace from his normal life, a way to get out of the house and socialize with people who aren’t his students. He could also say Gabe practically shoves him out the front door whenever Castiel mentions being bored, which is both true and false.

Gabe only forced him out of the house once, every other time has been his own volition, because, in truth, he’s become hooked on something he can only find at the bar.

Who knew a pair of green eyes and a bright, freckled face would be so addicting?

Dean’s astounding to watch as he works, making drinks and chatting with patrons, all with an easy grin. His spiky hair shines under the neon lights, his voice echoes throughout the room as he sings along to whatever’s playing on the jukebox and, while Castiel feels like a creep, watching him from a booth while he cradles his drink, he can’t bring himself to look away.

It took Cas a week to fully accept that Dean’s abduction of Jack was an accident, a second to begin to notice the way Dean was one of the most amazingly genuine people he’s ever had the pleasure of meeting, and another to realize he was well and truly in over his head.

Now Gabe’s joking about dragging Castiel to an AA meeting because almost every other night, without fail, after Cas tucks Jack into bed with a story and a kiss, he goes out to visit Dean on his shift.

“Hey, Cas!”

Speak of The Devil.

“Dean,” Castiel smiles at the bartender, who’s easily sliding into the seat across from him, “Are you on break?”

It’s barely past midnight on a Friday, these are the nights Cas barely gets a word in edgewise with Dean before he’s pulled to some other task.

“Nah, I’m off early tonight.” True to his word he has his jacket slung over his shoulder and his keys clutched in one hand.

“Oh?” Cas glances towards the bar, where two of Dean's co-workers (Jo and… Benny? Are those their names?) are watching the pair like hawks, “Why’s that?”

The burly man behind the bar shoots Dean a conspiratorial grin and a wink, leaving the bartender across from Cas sputtering out his answer, “N-no reason.”

Dean clears his throat, blushing so hard it disappears down the collar of his henley, “You headin’ out soon?”

The professor looks down at his long since empty glass, “It appears so.”

“Cool!” Dean jumps out of his seat, seeming to have recovered from whatever embarrassing circumstance his co-workers so desperately tried to put him in, “I’ll walk you out.”

Cas bites back a response about how he can manage a trip to the parking lot on his own, how he doesn't need someone to escort him back to his beat-up second hand truck.

“I’d like that.”

It’s quiet outside, a vast difference from the Roadhouse’s constant noise and clatter. The sky is cloudy, a few drops of rain are beginning to fall, but other than that it’s not awful.

Especially not with Dean at his side, grinning as they walk to Cas’ vehicle.

“Woah,” The bartender whistles under his breath once Castiel points out which parking spot he’s in, “Never took you for a truck guy.”

He’s heard this sentiment before and his answer is practically muscle memory at this point, “I’m not, but it was the cheapest vehicle I could find when I started school, and I haven’t had time to budget a way to replace it.” He purses his lips in thought for a moment before adding, “I use my brother's car whenever I need to transport Jack, though, since this doesn't have a back seat.”

“Smart.” Dean nods approvingly as Castiel unlocks the door, “Well it’s a nice lookin-” Cas turns the key in the ignition and his engine lets out a god awful shrieking noise, “Jesus christ!”

“It does that sometimes.” He shrugs, the clatter waning as the engine warms up.

“It shouldn’t.” Dean looks horrified, “Is this thing even driveable?”

Most likely not, “Yes.”

“I-” He looks like he wants to argue more but Cas sets his jaw and Dean leaves it be, opting to sigh and card a hand through his spiky hair, “Okay, you do you, man.”

“Thank you,” His fingers ghost over the handle, ready to close his door and head home, “Have a good night, Dean.”

Dean smiles, mouth opening like he wants to say something before it snaps closed, “I- yeah Cas, get home safe.”

“You too.”

Of course the night Castiel insists his truck is driveable is the night it decides to spite him.

Ten minutes from the Roadhouse, on some poorly lit back road, something begins to feel terribly wrong.

He pushes the gas pedal down in an attempt to accelerate, only for the engine to let out a pathetic noise while his speedometer stays stubbornly low. He tries again, flooring it this time, only to get the same results, never managing to get above 20 mph.

Panic surges through him as he jerkily pulls to the side of the road, cursing the stupid used truck that he knew was being sold for far too low of a price to be any good.

Castiel turns his key in the ignition and the vehicle falls silent.

What does he do now? Does he risk trying to drive back home when his truck might give out on him? Does he call Gabe to retrieve him?

No, Gabe’s at home with Jack.

A tow truck is his next best option, but it's late and the fees will probably be exuberant.

“Damnit.” He thumps his fist on the dashboard.

He’s not sure how long he sits there, glaring at the hood in front of him with betrayal, but it’s long enough for a sleek black car to pull up behind his truck.

Cas grumbles under his breath and grips his steering wheel tightly, headlights flashing in the rearview as a silhouetted figure approaches his window. He doesn't want to deal with someone else right now, no matter how helpful they end up being, he just wants to be home.

“Cas?”

Oh god. Castiel freezes, catching movement out of the corner of his eyes as the person becomes clear in the dim light.

“I thought that was you,” Dean presses his face up against the window, voice muffled as he shouts at Cas through the glass, “What’s goin’ on?”

Cas keeps his eyes firmly trained ahead of him, like he can will the bartender away if he doesn't acknowledge his presence.

“Helloooo-” Fingers tap on the glass, “Ground control to Major Cas.”

This is mortifying, the last thing he wanted Dean to see tonight was his poor vehicle maintenance.

“Dude? Are you okay?” He sounds concerned and that snaps Castiel out of his stupor, “Do you want me to call someone-?”

Castiel whips towards him, not intentionally, but it causes Dean’s eyes to widen in surprise for a moment. He fumbles for the handle, motioning for Dean to wait one moment, before popping open his door, “Did you follow me?”

“Nope.” Dean presses an arm against the roof and leans against the truck, “Just happened to be coming up the road when I noticed a certain bucket of bolts sitting on the shoulder. ”

Cas glares at the wet gravel below them, “I do not want to hear an ‘I told you so’ right now.”

“And you’re not gonna’,” Dean throws his hands up in surrender and flashes a brilliant smile, “I just wanted to offer my stellar roadside assistance.”

“I don’t want to keep you-”

  “None of that,” He gives him a firm clap on the shoulder, hand lingering for just a moment, “Pop the hood, lets see what’s going on.”

Castiel does as Dean asks, finding the bartender's confidence too strong to disagree with.

He should have probably asked Dean what sort of experience with engines he has before letting him loose on his poor truck, maybe he’s even less knowledgeable than Cas and is only going to do more harm than good, but he moves with ease, ducking out of sight and under the hood like he’s done this all his life.

After a few minutes of rummaging around Dean seems to find the problem, shouting so he can be heard over the rain, “Cas, man, your spark plugs are fucked! When was the last time you took this thing in for a tune up?”

Castiel blushes and averts his gaze, even though Dean can’t see him with his nose buried in the engine. It’s ridiculous, really, he’s a university professor, he has an adopted child who he’s cared for since he himself was a student, and yet the idea of going to an auto shop to figure out why his truck hasn’t been acting quite right makes his stomach churn.

He’s heard horror stories of people being overcharged, scammed for parts they don’t need because they don’t know their way around an engine, it’s awful and Castiel isn’t sure he could prevent it from happening to him.

“Cas?”

Dean’s staring at him now, squinting through the rain, hair plastered to his forehead.

“I-” He swallows thickly and raises his voice, “I’m afraid I’m not very good at vehicle maintenance.”

“I caught that,” The bartender snorts, slamming the hood down so hard it makes Cas jump, “But you need some now, so…”

He circles around to the passengers side, easily ducking inside to avoid the distasteful weather as Cas groans and presses his forehead to the steering wheel, already dreading the inevitable hours of researching local mechanics he has coming for him. 

“Ya’ know…” Dean speaks again, gentler this time, “My uncle owns a shop in town, might be able to get a discount.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, I can totally work something out with him. Can you get the engine started at all?”

Castiel nods miserably, forehead thumping against the wheel, turning the key in the ignition to prove that his truck is capable of running (poorly), “It just refuses to accelerate.”

“That’s good!”

Cas shoots him a disbelieving side eye.

“Well, it ain’t good good, but it means we don’t need to tow it.” Bless Dean's heart, he’s trying so hard to keep things somewhat positive, “You follow me back into town and I’ll lead you to the shop and we can get it fixed up first thing tomorrow.”

He agrees to Dean's plan, if only so he doesn't stay stranded on the side of the road any longer, and he tails the bartender's impala into town at a painfully slow pace.

What should have been a five minute drive takes much, much longer. Castiel could almost weep with relief when a sign saying ‘Singer Auto’ comes into view and Dean pulls into an empty parking lot, Cas parking in the spot next to him.

“It’ll be fine here overnight?” He asks as he gets out of the truck and locks the door behind him.

“Yep, Bobby’s got security cameras galore, nobody’s gonna’ try anything.”

“Alright…” He wrings his hands as Dean settles next to him, leaving the two of them standing shoulder to shoulder against the truck, “I should probably call a taxi back home, shouldn’t I?”

Dean snorts, “No.”

“Pardon?”

Cas is given a look that makes him feel like he’s just asked if the sky was blue, like he’s just asked a question that has a painfully obvious answer.

“I’ll drive ya’,” Dean shrugs, like it’s the simplest decision in the world, “I don’t mind.”

“What if I live out of your way?” It’s a massive possibility, Cas forcing Dean to drive thirty minutes opposite of his home just because he can’t take good care of his truck.

“Then we go out of my way. Who knows-” Dean’s stepping into Cas’ space now, “Might be nice to spend some time together outside of the bar.”

Cas feels his face heat up, “I’ve been told I’m not amazing company.”

Dean throws his head back and laughs and, goodness, is it one of the most beautiful sounds on earth; he wants to hear it everyday.

“If I didn’t think you were awesome to be around, I wouldn’t be here.” 

Now, here’s the thing, Castiel has never been great at reading tone. His siblings used to tease him constantly for it, his fellow professors still side-eye him when his sarcasms fall flat, but there’s no doubt in his mind that Dean is genuine.

Maybe it’s the glint in his eyes, or the fact that he could be at home but is instead standing in the rain with Cas, it makes the professor want to believe every word that comes out of his mouth.

“C’mon man,” Dean loosely grabs Cas’ wrist, dragging him back towards the impala, “You like classic rock? It’s the only music allowed in Baby.”

“I’ll enjoy whatever music you play.”

Dean lights up at that, opening the passengers side door for Cas and allowing him to get comfortable before he gets behind the wheel.

“Just tell me where we’re going!”

Cas watches the mechanics shop- and subsequently his truck- disappear in the side view mirror as he directs Dean between bits of conversation.

“-You’ve seriously never listened to Bob Seger!?”

“I can’t say I have- turn left here-”

Dean sings along to the music as he follows Cas’ directions, something a black-haired beauty. He has a wonderful singing voice.

“Turn right, Dean.”

“You’re the boss- Okay, so no Seger, you ever listen to Springsteen?”

“No.”

“What!? What about Zep? AC/DC-?”

“Are those singers or…?”

“Oh my god, I take back every nice thing I’ve said about you, we can’t be friends anymore- oh, are you laughing? Cas, are you fucking with me right now?”

“Go straight at this intersection.”

“Cas!”

“Dean I’m out of touch, I don’t live under a rock, of course I know about AC/DC.”

“Thank fuck-”

“It’s the next driveway on the left- yes this one- You’ve been saying nice things about me?”

Dean flushes and sputters as the impala rolls to a stop next to Gabriel's driveway, “W-well, yeah, obviously-”

“I’m flattered.” Cas can see a light on in the kitchen and a silhouette suspiciously shaped like his older brother peeking out the window, though it ducks out of view once Castiel spots it, “Thank you for the ride, Dean.”

He has to walk around the car to get to the driveway and he can hear Dean roll down the window behind his back, “Cas, come back here for a sec.”

Now it’s Cas’ turn to lean against someone else's vehicle, ducking his head so he can look Dean in the eyes, “Yes?”

The freckled man looks like he might have a stroke for a moment, “Listen, Cas, I’ve really enjoyed hanging with you so- ya’ know- I guess if you wanted to keep doing that- we-” He stumbles through a few more half formed sentences before he screws his eyes shut and mumbles under his breath, “Fuck it.”

There’s no time to ask what he means before Dean leans out the window, grips Cas’ chin, and plants a kiss square on his cheek.

It’s chaste, quick, not at all like the man who gave it, but it still sends Castiel's mind reeling as he takes a few stumbling steps back, his face certainly turning a brilliant shade of red.

“Okay, see ya’ Cas!” Dean’s back in the impala, pointedly not looking at the man he just made a move on, and shifting gears before Cas can react, “I’ll let you know when I get your car fixed up!”

“Dean, wait-”

But he’s already tearing down the road, leaving Castiel to watch him disappear around a corner, leaving him feeling impossibly warm and giddy despite the rain seeping through his coat.

That was possibly the clumsiest, most juvenile way to admit one's feelings that Castiel has ever witnessed, and it was perfect.

Next time he sees Dean he’ll have to return the favor.

_____

<<First│<-Prev│Next

[lovelystarlightsblog]

Motherly reader babying them~

(So reader is a loving Mommy type that loves babying and spoiling them. So after awhile she somehow manage to bring up their Inner child)

Albert James Moriarty

He was a little uncomfortable with the thought of being spoiled. Like, him? Spoiled? He beg to differ. But after he met you. All he could say is…. Well sh!t..

He was never the spoiled type (that’s what he thought), if anything he would be the one spoiling his S/O. But now he could only question how the hell did he end up here while sitting sideways on your lap.

He was honestly embarrassed by it. Wasn’t it supposed to be the other way around? Well, not anymore….

He wasn’t familiar with motherly love considering his childhood. He was never felt like he was accepted in his “Family” so mothers love wasn’t something he can Imagine to have.

After he met you he feel like he found something that was missing his whole entire life. He never felt so safe, so comfortable, so……. Happy….

At the start of the relationship, it was something small and simple things like serving and feeding him cookies, and then leads to wrapping him in blankets and cuddle him the whole night (You’re the big spoon obviously), which also leads you into tucking him in before bed and sing him a lullaby, and also leads you to cradling him when he had a hard day…..

He was really embarrassed to say the least. He was treated like a child! And for some reason it makes him feel so warm inside.

He likes it…..

He will never admit to anyone, not even when someone threatens him death. But he loves how you treat him like a child, he loves how you spoil him so much with your loving. You’ve awaken his inner child he never knew he had.

As time goes on the others start to notice how Albert’s behavior is slowly start to become more… Childlike….

Like how he looks at you so excitedly like a child seeing his birthday present when he finally gets back, or when you’re home after going out to get groceries. Or how he becomes 970% more clingy than he used to. And how he always clings onto you when you’re sitting together or you’re just talking with someone else.

Well… They’re not the only one who realized it. Cause I’m pretty sure that Albert would realize it sooner than they do. But despite that he’s not stopping it at all…. What kind of spell did you used on him?!

Nobody ACTUALLY complains about it, maybe Moran would tease him but he would get the most terrifying glare, that it can make the devil look like a baby kitten. He notes himself that he would NEVER tease Albert about it ever again.

But when someone else points it out…. Let’s just say that he never wanted to jump out of the window so bad in his whole entire life.

He’s conflicted. He’s a grown up adult, he’s not supposed to be treated as a child nor act like one. But at the same time it just feels soo good that he’d be a liar if he said he didn’t like it! Not like he can stop even if he wants to.

He was honestly quite self-conscious about it. He feels like he should stop letting you treat him like a child so much, but he also craves for it. He can’t decide whether to stop you or letting you do anything to him.

He once told you how he feel a little ashamed of liking all those childish things. But you told him that there’s nothing wrong with enjoying all those things. Everyone has their own inner child and everyone always want to feel loved. And that actually made Albert feel a lot better hearing you say that.

After some time, he lets himself loose and let you do more “lovey” things like cradling and other babyish things. He also really likes how you spoon fed him, but he only let’s you do that in private.

William and Louise also notice Albert’s childlike behavior. And neither of them judges him. In fact, they’re happy that Albert is able to feel happy and comfortable with someone. And they really do appreciate your company cause they haven’t seen Albert so content and happy before. So that really made Albert relieved.

He loves the way you scratch his back while he’s cuddling you (I love back scratches, y’all knew this was coming). He always wraps his arms around you as he lays his head on your chest while you softly scratch his back. He’s the big spoon most of the time, but sometimes he’s the little spoon when he’s feeling tired or down.

And then… There’s cradling, OH THE CRADLING!! He’ll be DAMNED if anyone else knows about this, but he he craves to be cradled! It’s probably one of the most babyish things he actually enjoy but boy he loves it!

It’s just… The way you hold him while he sits on your lap and rocking him slowly (god that’s adorable) and having his head resting on you. He has never felt so safe and comfortable in his life. It’s embarrassing and he loves it so damn much.

It would take a lot of time for Albert to accept his “tendencies” he’ll try to be a lot more open with his childlike behaviors. Of course he won’t show that side of him to anyone, but now he’s a bit more open to admitting his “tendencies”. He’ll also let himself act a bit more spoiled to you and enjoys how he’s treated as a child.

And once that finally happens you’ll realize how adorably spoiled he is. Like how he ask you to sing him to sleep, making him and feeding him cookies, clinging onto you, and running up to you when you get back. It was incredibly adorable and beyond cute!

Of course that doesn’t mean he’s not serious with his work on taking care of the nobles. It’s just that whenever he takes a break he always know where to go and what can make him feel so much better after all that. And that’s something he will never take for granted.

Of course he will try to pay you back. (Even tough he feels like he will never be able to). Like treating you out for dinner, buying you gifts, getting whatever the hell you want (even if it’s as absurd as bringing home a lion). It’s just that… Words cannot express how thankful he is to have you and you make everything so worth it in this life…

He has never felt so happy….

Wow….

This is one of the most tooth-rooting, stomach stirring, diabetic thing I have ever wrote…

I’m so proud of it…

[just-barely-a-somebody]

Well deekideke’s fanfic script has given,,, so much. As a recap of what I personally got from it (A very devildice focused perspective):

King Dice drinks

This isn’t the first time Devil had Stickler walk Dice home

Based on the way Devil says it, he’s probably tucked Dice into bed, cradled his head, and told Dice he’s his #1 until Dice fell asleep before (please I need a short fluff fic of this immediately)

King Dice had to wear a flower gown

There’s a joke that he should be called Queen Dice

His gown is ripped into a fucking bikini and then he just “decides to own it and strikes a pose.”

Devil loves the chaos and was probably about to confess feelings before being interrupted

oh yeah devil is also in a wedding gown

they genuinely just flirt with each other

THEN they both sing “Endless Love” WHILE BEING DESCRIBED AS “It’s a romantic dance sequence for the length of the entire song”

AND THEN they almost kiss before… eugh Stickler.

but uh yeah that was a lot /pos

I’m almost 100% certain that Deekideke had/has ideas for other eps that would develop their relationship a bit more and come before this ep

either way, they’re gay+queer as hell <3

[blaqcats-fics]

i would like to say, i’ve read a lot of jason-centric fan fics, and i’ve come to the conclusion that no one speaks of the six months he was dead, but only in the aspect of no one asks questions about jason’s time in the grave.

so, i took librities.

i like to believe that when jason was younger, he'd believe in God, but maybe because Catherine was a faithful woman, and in most scenarios, children follow their parents religion, specifically in terms of Catholicism. As an adult, however, Jason doesn't believe in God, but instead of what could typically be considered as a loss of faith, he just didn't go anywhere while he was dead, or maybe he did, but it wasn't in the eye of any religious depiction of heaven or hell.

that being said, here’s just a glimpse of a jason in ‘death’. depending on the response, I might expand this idea.

Jason sings.

His voice is small in the vast white emptiness, swallowed by the nothing that stretches endlessly in all directions. It is a lullaby, one from before—the kind of song mothers hum while rocking their babies, the kind of song that lingers in the cracks of memory.

He sings because the silence is worse.

“Hush, little baby, don’t say a word…”

No one speaks here. No voices call his name. No mother, no father, no angels or saints. He is alone in a place where nothing exists, where time does not move, where the dead do not sleep. He has no shadow. No weight. Just himself—barefoot in his funeral clothes, knees pulled to his chest, curls wild around his too-young face.

He should be in heaven.

That’s what they always said, the nuns at St. Mary’s, the priests who stood at the pulpit in their stiff black robes, speaking of mercy and judgment, of the fires of hell and the golden gates of paradise. You must be good, Jason. You must be obedient, Jason. You must confess, Jason.

Confess.

That word clings to him like old bruises, like the taste of copper on his tongue, like the feel of broken bones beneath his skin.

He was supposed to die clean. That’s what they said, right? If you repent, if you beg, if you kneel with your hands clasped so tightly they ache, the gates will open.

But Jason had never been good at kneeling.

“Papa’s gonna buy you a mockingbird…”

His voice wavers, something bitter curling beneath it. He had prayed, once. Our Father, who art in heaven. Had whispered the words into the collar of his too-small coat, clutching the edges of borrowed faith like a tattered blanket. Had held his mother’s hand and watched her mouth move in silent devotion, eyes dark and hollow.

What good had it done?

God had not been there in Crime Alley, where hunger gnawed at their ribs and cold curled under their skin like a sickness. God had not been there when his mother collapsed in a filthy apartment, the stench of heroin thick in the air. Hail Mary, full of grace. He had whispered it against her hair, against her cooling skin, but no grace came.

And God had not been there in the warehouse, in the flames, in the dark.

He had screamed. He remembers that. The sound of it had torn from his throat, raw and desperate, a child’s plea to something greater.

But there had been no answer.

No angels. No light. No arms to cradle him as his bones cracked and his body failed.

“And if that mockingbird won’t sing…”

Jason presses his forehead to his knees, squeezing his eyes shut, but the white remains. Endless. Empty. Without warmth, without shadow, without meaning.

Was this hell?

Not fire and brimstone. Not devils with pitchforks, not the gnashing of teeth, not the tortures they warned him of in stained-glass chapels.

Just silence.

Just nothing.

He thinks of all the things they never tell you in church. That sometimes the bad men live, and the good ones die screaming. That sometimes sin is survival, that hunger is a sharper blade than any knife, that there is no shame in stealing when it keeps you breathing. That the saints on the walls have never bled in the dirt.

Jason had sinned.

Had lied, had fought, had stolen, had thrown fists in the alleyways of Gotham, teeth bared, a wild little thing that no rosary could tame.

Maybe that was why.

Maybe this was justice.

The price of a faith he never quite fit into, of prayers he never truly believed.

“Papa’s gonna buy you a diamond ring…”

His voice cracks.

A child’s lullaby in a dead boy’s throat.

He had prayed, and no one had answered. He had screamed, and no one had come. He had died, and there was no heaven, no hell—only this. A blank, endless nothing.

No saints. No devils. No God.

Jason sings, because there is nothing else.

He sings, because it is all he has left.

[strong-with-the-sarcasm]

Part 10- keep me from my grave

"Well, don't sing me praise. Just keep me from my grave." -Me Against the Devil by The Relentless

Main Masterlist Regent Series Part 9

They met at a bookstore. 

It had been almost two full months since the Joker had met his end, his head mounted and strangely not decomposed, with Jason returned to the Batfamily Gotham had settled into a lull. Not a quiet one, but a lull nonetheless. 

Jason was taking a break from sorting through cases with Dick, head throbbing from the lack of sleep and patience for annoying siblings wearing thin. 

The bookstore, tucked away in a quiet part of Old Gotham, was often empty of people during the day. Despite its large bay windows, comfy seating and welcoming atmosphere, the Page-Turner would remain a hidden gem to the city dwellers. For Jason, it was a haven he could never feel bad about keeping to himself. 

He’d branched out from classics some time ago, deciding to try other genres he’d long since ignored for the Bard, meandering around the shelves to find a title that caught his eye. 

It was between the mysteries and thrillers that he found her. 

Her. 

She was sitting on the ground with her back pressed against the thriller shelves, slender jean-clad legs tucked towards her chest to cradle a book, eyes never straying from the pages, red hair tied into a low ponytail with what looked like a small braid tucked behind one ear. Jason couldn’t tear his eyes away from her soft features, desperately wanting her eyes to meet his, her lips to offer him a smile and her hands to cradle his own.

 For the first time in his life, Jason finally understood what the regency novels meant by love at first sight… because the man was halfway there already. 

The Page Turner was a haven admist the chaos that was Jazz’s life, especially once she finally admitted to herself and Danny that she needed help to manage her depression. Her little brother was concerned, but also relieved when she confronted the elephant in the room first. He’d been weary of bringing it up himself, not wanting to worry her more. 

(Silly brother.)

(It was her job to worry.)

Nonetheless, Jazz asked around among the living and dead for a therapist recommendation, which she was correct about it being difficult in Gotham, but Jazz didn’t want to branch out just yet. A toss up between disbelief and enthusiasm awaited her, but she didn’t let it deter her from contacting the recommended psychologist- Harleen Quinzel. 

A bit awkward to be in a session with the reformed rogue, dutifully ignoring whatever lingering shades wanted her attention. Harley was a great listener, more importantly she cared about Jazz as a patient, as a human being. Whatever Bozo the Clown had done to her, what she had survived, had given Harley a new lease on life with his death (ironically). 

“It sounds like ya never been allowed to simply be, Jazz.” Harley spoke plainly and evenly, her brooklyn accent barely clipping her words. The redhead had spoken of her childhood, her brother’s death, the neglect.

Opened up about the nightmares, how Danny’s destroyed grave haunted her. Let the truth spill from her lips, free to simply exist in the space between the two women. Sure, Jazz would never spill secrets about the Realms, but where it concerned her guilt, or lack thereof, about the blood on her hands- yes, Jazz knew Harley wouldn’t judge her. 

And it was true, Jazz had no childhood. She was Danny’s caretaker, his first memory, his first steps towards, the first to have his back. There had never been just Jazz, only Jazz and Danny. Every dream she’d once had, broken and scattered in the ashes of Danny’s grave. 

(Danny had no hope of reaching the stars, of being an astronaut, with his death.)

“Sweetie, Danny sounds like he is capable of taking care of himself for a while. Have you considered finding a hobby?” Harley questioned, sincere in her wish to help. 

Jazz sighed, “I wouldn’t know where to begin.” What did she have outside her little brother and work as Regency? 

“Do ya like to read?” 

Jazz huffed, finding amusement with that question. Of course she liked, no, loved to read. It had been her one escape from the nightmares so long ago, but she hadn’t found the time since taking regency to lose herself in a good book. 

Harley didn’t need her to respond, offering a sincere smile in response to Jazz’s lack of reply. 

“There’s a bookstore in Old Gotham, the Page Turner, ya could check out? There’s no pressure to pick up a book, but it would be enough to just get through the door, yeah?” 

“I’ll try.” 

“That’s a good start.” 

As it was, Jazz wasn’t able to find time between Realms Work and patrol to do anything other than sleeping, eating, and various other tasks that filled her days (and nights). The more it itched at her, to listen to the therapist she liked, the more Jazz wanted to read a book. To get lost in a good story, just like she used to. 

Patrols were harder with Hood back, his haunt under his command once more and streets protected by a vigilante in red. Only twice in the few weeks since Jason had been moved from her side to the batcave had the Regent caught a glimpse of him, both as his nighttime persona, and from a distance Jazz hadn’t been able to sense him as clearly as previous. He did seem healthier with the pure ecto and his Proto-Core, though Jazz was in no mood to test her luck by crossing into his Haunt. 

The girls were sad to see the Regent less, even though Jazz remained firmly in the Phantom haunt and was barely a few minutes away at any given time, but it was the principle of the thing. The Regent was one of the good ones and a woman at that. A woman who could kick ass wasn’t rare, but it was rare that they would take up a vigilante role for the occupants of the Alley. 

Red Hood, while awesome and respected by his people, was a man. 

Some of the girls were gradually drifting into the Phantom haunt, or a shitty part of Old Gotham that bordered on the Alley. Regardless of it’s quality it belonged to the Phantom Fraid… and Phantom was a Protector Spirit. 

(With the Regent and the Phantom, crime was all but extinct in their haunt.)

With the decrease in crime, Jazz was finally able to dematrilize her armor, set down her sword and enter the Page Turner. 

A distinct mix of old books, ink, and some kind of body spray welcomed the redhead once she stepped inside, intrigued by the sense of calm that greeted her in place of a human. 

Which was fine, Jazz preferred to browse in peace. 

Grateful for the shelves being categorized, Jazz found herself enthralled by a thriller (They Never Learn by Layne Fargo) and didn’t notice another person in the aisle until they were within arm’s reach. 

Jazz flinched back, embarrassed by her lack of focus and attention to her surroundings, dangerous when one is a vigilante in Gotham. She greeted the man in front of her after a few moments of awkward silence, his stare making the redhead even more embarrassed, but now by her appearance. She'd been too tired to fuss with her hair or clothes beyond ensuring the orange-red strands were brushed into a semblance of order and her clothes were somewhat decent. 

(Jazz was more concerned with her bracelets being concealed under glamour and sleeves.)

(The metal, eternally cool against her warm skin, offered some comfort in times like these.)

(She was the Lady of the Acropolis, once student of Pandora, the Ancient of Peace.) 

(There is nothing that can make her feel lesser without her consent.) 

“Uh, hi.” 

(Oh how eloquent, Jasmine.) 

“Hi.” The deep voice, smooth and accented like a native Gotham, made Jazz finally move her gaze from his chest- nice chest as it was, it was his eyes that made her breath rush from her lungs. 

Jason. 

.....Jason!

(Oh yes, Jazz picked a good day to walk into the Page Turner.) 

(She was finally able to talk to her dream man.)

(She wasn’t disappointed.) 

(And by the smiles they had as walked away, neither was Jason.) 

A/N:

This isn't the best, I know. Hey, they finally meet! Keep an eye for the updated masterlist, because I'll be putting the link up and changing some of the chapter titles. Thanks for reading!

Update: “They Never Learn” by Layne Fargo is an actual book, with a female Anti-Hero who kills bad men. I don’t want to say more because I’ll spoil something, but it’s a great book.

[nina-ya]

May I please request a super angsty femReaderxzoro fic where reader dies trying to save zoro but in a really specific way as in she has devil fruit similar to uta but with healing abilities instead and she trades her life to save zoro which makes her have a death similar to rikas from jjk but the song she sing when she’s leaving is long live by Taylor Swift specifically “long live all the mountains we moved I had the time of my life fighting dragons with you” ect.If it’s too detailed, you don’t have to do it but I would really enjoy if you could do this

Long Live

A/N: Italics is a flashback and purple are the song lyrics I had so much fun writing this! well as much fun as you can have writing something sad, but thank you for giving me an excuse to write about more Taylor i hope you enjoy! <3 Pairing: Zoro x fem!reader CW: Reader dies, blood, vague alluding to sex WC: 2.1k Your voice had been a source of joy and happiness for as long as you could remember, and your devil fruit ability only heightened that joy, granting you the power to heal through your melodies. It felt like a gift straight out of a fairy tale. Cradling injured individuals in your arms, you would serenade them, witnessing their wounds miraculously vanish as they sprang up with newfound energy.

In your pursuit of understanding and enhancing your abilities, you dove into the histories of past users who once possessed this ability before you. While you didn't find much in terms of strengthening your powers, you stumbled upon something intriguing: the most recent user of your ability met their demise by sacrificing their life for a marine soldier. The event was well-documented—the tale of their final song and fading away into the unknown, all to save a critically wounded soldier. At the time, you found such sacrifice baffling and perhaps even foolish. The idea of willingly giving up one's life for another was a concept that had always left you questioning whether you could ever do such a thing.

You first encountered Zoro when he casually slid into the seat next to yours at a random, somewhat sketchy tavern on an island whose name had already slipped your memory. Ordering a beer, as expected, neither of you paid much attention to the other until you initiated a conversation, asking about the swords he carried with him. Drink after drink, the banter flowed effortlessly, and as the night progressed, so did the subtle hints of flirtation. Before you knew it, you found yourselves in the confines of the bathroom, Zoro pinning you against the wall, lips locked, hands exploring, clothes quickly discarded—an intense moment that seemed to mark the conclusion of your unexpected encounter. Or so you thought.

The next day, as you went about your business, you stumbled upon a wanted poster that featured none other than Roronoa Zoro, one of the most formidable and dangerous men in the world. The revelation left you torn between celebrating or worrying over the fact that you had just slept with one of the most deadliest men in the world right now. You had chosen the former.

Your lingering questions about whether you'd see him again were answered when, to your surprise, you spotted Zoro rounding a corner, seemingly lost and running in your direction. The unexpected reunion left you wondering about the twists and turns fate had in store for the two of you. He screeched to a halt in front of you, muttering something about being in the wrong place. You were on the verge of teasing him for looking like a lost fool when the unmistakable sounds of approaching marine footsteps and shouts pierced the air from behind. Without a moment's hesitation, Zoro swiftly unsheathed his swords, leaving you momentarily confused when he shoved one into his mouth. Your confusion gave way to surprise as marines in front of you began dropping like flies.

In the chaos, Zoro reached for your hand, grabbed it, and started running with you. Urgently, he asked you to lead him to the docks. Though an underlying sense of fear lingered, the idea of potential injury or worse, you couldn't help but go along with the green-haired man, guiding him through the streets towards the docks. The urgency of the situation fueled your pace, and as you turned a final corner, a grand pirate ship came into view. To your amazement, some very enthusiastic individuals, recognizable from the wanted posters plastered everywhere, were waving at Zoro and urging him to run onto the ship. 

You might have assumed that Zoro would have let you go and abandoned you at some point, but to your surprise, he had you stick around. Soon enough, you found yourself on the deck of the pirate ship, met with perplexed and cautious stares from the crew. This wasn't the life you had envisioned, yet the appeal of friendship and adventures proved too compelling for you to resist.

As it turned out, your unique ability to heal with the simple power of song quickly earned you the role of healer on the ship. You often teamed up with Chopper, working together to mend the wounded, a category that frequently included Zoro. It seemed like he would intentionally find himself in dangerous situations just to give you an excuse to heal him. It became almost routine  for Zoro to pull you aside for healing sessions. He would claim it was because "you're the faster healer" or "Chopper is busy with the others," but the way he stared at you with complete and utter infatuation as you sang hinted that there might be an underlying reason why he always sought you out.

Your relationship with Zoro had flourished during your time on the ship. While the two of you hadn't explicitly labeled it, an unspoken bond had formed, making you inseparable. It was clear to everyone around you that you and Zoro were meant to be. Your connection was so strong that it felt as if you were bound together for life. You, the enchanting songbird, had managed to melt the heart of the swordsman. It was a relationship that seemed almost too perfect to be true.

-

-

-

The shaky rhythm of Zoro's breath sliced through the air, the only accompaniment being the unsettling drip, drip, drip of crimson liquid splattering onto the floor from each painful gash on his body. His eyes threatened to give in to the darkness, the grip tampanoding his profusely bleeding wound weakening with every passing second, allowing more of the red tide to seep out. "She's close by," he reassured himself in a desperate whisper. "She will come and heal me, and everything will be okay." His vision blurred, the edges of consciousness fading, yet the approaching footsteps redirected his waning focus. Your silhouette emerged into view, and a feeble smile of relief played on his weakened lips.

You stood there, your body pulsating with the ache of injuries you had sustained from the battle. Exhaustion weighed heavily on your chest, each labored breath revealing your weariness. As you took in Zoro's dire state, a chill ran down your spine, and your hands trembled uncontrollably. The blood painted the wall against which he leaned, the pool he lay in enough to have claimed the life of an ordinary person by now.

In that moment, a wave of realization crashed over you, akin to what the previous user of your devil fruit must have experienced when confronted with the imminent death of that soldier. The only conceivable explanation for willingly sacrificing one's life in such a manner was love. Only someone who is deeply in love could find themselves doing what you were prepared to do.

Thump-thump-thump-thump-thump-thump—thump... thump... thump...

Your heart beats in your ears, slow and steady, a sharp contrast to the urgency that surrounds you. Crouching down next to him, your knees bathe in the blood beneath you. You reach out and stroke his face, your voice cutting through the tense air as a sweet melody falls from your lips, “Long live the walls we crashed through, I had the time of my life with you…”

Your vision blurs slightly as you start to sing, and your voice wavers, but determination fuels your every word. Zoro's consciousness begins to steady, and his gaze focuses on you. He listens to the lyrics you sing, his smile quickly fading as he senses your growing unsteadiness. His own heartbeat starts to quicken, mirroring the vivid recollection of the last time he was this severely injured.

Your fingers gently comb through the emerald strands of the injured marimo, the sound of your singing soothing his pain, mending the cuts and bruises that adorned him. As his eyes gradually flutter open from the haze of injury, he gazes up at you, a soft smile spreading across his lips upon hearing the sound of your voice. This time felt different from his previous injuries; there was an abundance of blood, and the worry etched across your face reflected the urgency to reach him in time.

You knew you couldn't stop singing. You needed to heal him, but you also needed to talk to him, so your song took on a more serious shift in meaning as you sang. "Will you take a moment? Promise me this: that you’ll stand by me forever," you begin, your voice carrying a weight that matches the importance of this moment. His larger hand envelops yours, nodding in silent agreement. You continue, "but if, God forbid, fate should step in and force us into a goodbye," confusion knits Zoro's eyebrows, wondering the reason behind the unexpected shift in your melody.

You persist, “if you have children someday, when they point to the pictures, please tell them my name.” Your voice grew shaky as you continued, “Tell them how I hope they shine." Teardrops fall onto his concerned face, and he instinctively reaches up to wipe them away. The inevitability of this conversation weighed heavily on both your hearts, each word spoken a painful acknowledgment of the uncertainties life may hold.

In response, Zoro reassures you with a resolute voice, "I promise to stay with you forever, but you know fate won't dare step in and tear us apart. I won't allow it. You’re too important to me, and I swear that we will live out the rest of our lives together, and *you* will get to tell our kids all of these things, okay?" His words, a promise fueled by determination, aim to chase away the uncertainty of what lies ahead, providing comfort in the tomorrow that they both look forward to.

It's happening. Fate weaves its cruel design, guiding you toward that goodbye—a scenario Zoro strongly vowed would never come to pass. “Long live the walls we crashed through, how the kingdom lights shined just for me and you,” you continue, your voice quivering with an emotional strain that mirrors the tension in the air. The aura that your powers provide seem to shimmer with an magical quality as Zoro's wounds gradually fade, mirroring the slow, inescapable dimming of your own presence.

Your body slumps over, a proof of the draining strength within you. Stronger hands, Zoro's calloused and desperate, grasp your arms, pulling you close in a desperate attempt to defy the approaching reality. A gasp escapes you, the sound of your body's instinctive cling towards life.

“Stop… Stop this… I—I’m fine now, see? Chopper can just fix us up; you can stop now,” Zoro pleads, his voice quivering, the tremor reverberating through the air. His lip wobbles, tears teetering on the edge of escape. He knows the words he's uttering form a desperate attempt to go against the harsh reality. In this wretched moment, he attempts to make you hold onto your own life, to discourage you from the selfless act of sacrificing yourself to mend his wounds. Yet, the heavy truth hangs in the air—a truth that your fading form seems to convey with every passing moment.

Your breath is shaky, and a sudden weariness envelops you. Yet, his pleas, laced with unspoken desperation, don't deter you. ”Long live the walls we crashed through, how the kingdom lights shined just for me and you,” you sing softly, leaning onto him, a somber smile gracing your lips despite the impending farewell.

“Please stop…I love you, please don’t do this…” Zoro's whisper is almost a plea, his voice breaking as tears fall freely. He grasps your hand, squeezing it with a desperation that clings to the diminishing hope that both of you can somehow emerge unscathed from this ordeal.

“And I was screaming, ‘Long live all the magic we made’ and bring on all the pretenders…” Another wave of weakness washes over you, and your head falls limp onto his shoulder, “I'm not afraid.” you murmur, hoping the reassurance in your words might alleviate some of the weight on his shoulders among the unfolding tragedy. ”Long live all the mountains we moved…I had the time of my life fighting dragons with you.” With that final line, your voice softens, the melody fading into a whisper as your breaths grow shallower. The grip of Zoro's hand on yours tightens, desperately clinging to the waning connection. With each passing moment, your form dissolves into an ethereal glow. In desperation, Zoro reaches into the empty space that you once occupied, his trembling fingers grasping at nothingness, a denial of the harsh reality that you are gone. The ringing of your song linger in the hollow space, a haunting reminder of a love transcended beyond the boundaries of existence. Zoro, left with an aching emptiness, is now entangled in the flickers and fragments of a love that slipped away.

[justhere4thevibez]

ok so suppose corroded coffin is becoming big and chrissy has a regular 9-5 and she’s afraid eddie will get too famous and leave her for someone w a less strict schedule, who can travel along w him etc 🥺

ooh, this is a good one! Thanks for asking, love 💛

Even though Eddie promises over and over that there's no one else for him, that she's all he's ever dreamed about, that the sound of her voice over a payphone is more intoxicating than any fan screaming his name, Chrissy still can't help but wonder if the distance is too much. Or if maybe she's not enough.

So, on one of her rare long weekends, she heads up to surprise Eddie when they're playing in NYC. She feels a little bit bad for not telling him, like maybe she's trying to catch him out or something, but she just... wants to surprise him. And if maybe she wants to know what he's like with his fans, how he acts when she's not around, well...

She's not perfect. She's never been perfect.

Eddie's amazing. The way he plays, it's electric, like his voice is swirling in her veins. Like he's singing in her ear, the way he does when he cradles her in his arms at night. She's almost forgotten about her fears when the guys pause before their last song. Eddie takes a deep breath and looks out at the crowd, squinting in the glare of the stage lights.

"You all know what time it is. We're about to wrap this shit up, so there's one last thing I gotta say. People ask me all the time where the music comes from, and the answer is easy. It's not a magic spell or a deal with the devil" — he smirks a little when the crowd laughs — "it's my girl. Every song, every note, every line, it's all her. It's always been her. So Chrissy, wherever you are right now, sweetheart, this one's for you. They all are."

He starts playing a song, one she knows like the back of her hand, but she can't even think of the name right now because her eyes are filled with tears.

The second the song is over she races backstage, and even though security doesn't let her through, Eddie races over the second he hears her voice.

"What the hell are you doing here?" he whispers into her hair as he crushes her to his sweaty body.

"Came to surprise you," she says back, holding him just as tight.

He pulls back, and she sees tears in his eyes that mirror her own. "Did you like the show?"

"Loved it," she says, and she's never meant anything more.

Ask me things to keep me occupied!!!

[melishade]

Was the part with the flowers reference to this?

now I’m imagining Primus singing Akuma no ko to Ymir either the original or a English cover

Actually the flowers are in reference to IDW. Specifically:

My knowledge of IDW is spotty, but I do remember when chapters were being dropped that this was fuel for the transformers fandom. Very angsty fanart kept popping up, specifically around IDW Megatron.

Because these flowers are called Remembrance Flowers, and in IDW, the flowers and the statue represent the amount of people that were killed by that one particular person. Each flower, represents a soul, so when the comic ends up cutting to this panel about Megatron's flowers, it basically showed the weight of Megatron's actions and all the lives that he's taken. Because his field of flowers is extremely massive. I think he drove through his flowers with a scooter and he was out there for a few hours.

So instead of the Eldians being connected through a tree in the Paths, Primus has altered everything so that the souls of each Eldian are present and visible, no longer bound by the rules of the Paths and allowed to just be individuals.

And in regards to the scene with Primus and Ymir, Akuma no ko doesn't fit simply because it's a love song meant for Eren and Mikasa. The song that I think fits, and I've put it on the playlist, is this:

A Million Miles Away from the Belle movie back in 2021. The Belle movie is supposed to be a modern retelling of Beauty and the Beast, and while the story is extremely imperfect, but the songs are really great, especially in the dub.

But instead of Belle being a love story between Belle and the Beast, it's about a girl named Suzu who resents her late mother for sacrificing her life to save a random girl during a storm, essentially leaving her behind. This trauma prevents her from going back to singing, and she's only able to sing again in a virtual reality setting as Belle. And the Beast that she interacts with, causing a lot of problems in the internet, turns out to be a boy who's being abused by his father, along with his little brother. When Suzu finds this out and says she's Belle, he obviously doesn't believe her and her willingness to help. So she ends up shedding her avatar and sings this song to prove to the boy she is who she says she is and she wants to help.

Why do I bring this up? Because I think this song fits how Primus feels about Ymir. He heard Ymir's cry for help from across the universe, her cry transcending time and space, as she's locked away in the Paths. He traveled through the memories of the titan shifters in the Paths, trying to find the answers he needs and trying to find her so he could save her. He says he's been in the Paths for 2,000 years, but if he's searching through the memories of all the titan shifters, it would no doubt be longer, as he has to account for different perspectives and lives.

Ending the power of the titans was the second goal Primus had. His first goal was to save Ymir, simply because he heard her crying out for help and he didn't want to leave her alone. The chorus fits this perfectly:

Come back to me, and stay by my side I feel my heart shake Come, ease this ache I'm standing over here, reaching for you A million miles away, come back and stay No matter how far the memories may be When I close my eyes, you're all that I see Come back to me A million miles away, come back and stay

And now try to read this while listening to the song:

Primus pulled back and looked at her blank face. He cradled Ymir’s face in his hands, and felt tears brimming in his eyes. “Little One, you suffered so much. You gave up so much, but what he did to you was not right. That wasn’t love. He hurt you and used you. He took everything from you and you did nothing to deserve that.”

Primus felt Ymir flinch and continued. “You are not a slave. What the king told you...that was wrong and cruel and unjustified. You’re not a slave, you’re not a devil, and you’re not a god. You are just a little girl with the weight of the world on her shoulders. A heavy burden, that causes nothing but misery.”

Primus saw her expression change. There was light flickering in her blank eyes, and he could’ve sworn he saw the color of her eyes.

“You do not deserve this,” Primus declared, “And I wish to take you far away from here…but…I cannot.”

Eren was shocked. What did he mean by he can’t? He stated earlier that he had the ability to do so! Why was he saying that he couldn’t now?!

“Little One, you were never given a chance to choose what you wanted,” Primus explained, “All your life, you were told by others what to do, but that is not what you want. I want so badly to take you far away from here and give you the peace and love you deserve. But I do not wish to force you to come with me. I wish for that to be your choice.”

Primus took her hands into his own. “If you wish to stay here forever, then…I will not stop you. I will leave you here, and you will not see me again. If you wish to come with me, I would be more than happy to take you as far away from here as possible. If you are not certain, then I will wait here as long as possible until you come to the decision.”

Ymir’s flickering gaze went to Primus’ hands holding her own. Ymir opened her mouth, and she could feel the strain in her voice. She struggled to form the words and felt like her throat was burning from trying to form it. But Primus patiently waited for her to speak. He waited and waited until…

 “…why?...”

Primus felt it: her confusion, her intrigue, her denial. She wanted desperately to understand the reason why a stranger came all this way to find her. Why was he willing to give a slave the whole world? Why did such a powerful being travel for 2,000 years to find a pitiful girl? There had to be a good reason.

“…Because I heard your cry, and I wanted nothing more than to save you.” Primus answered.

Ymir’s eyes brightened as she sharply turned her head to look at Primus. The life missing reappearing, revealing her eyes to be a pale gray infected by the blue of the energon. That…that was it? That was the only reason? He came all this way…for her? He came all this way…for a pathetic and worthless girl. Tears poured from her eyes once again as her lips trembled. He didn’t even know her, but…he came all this way. Someone had listened to her cry, her desperate plea for help, and it was him.

Primus gave her a warm smile, happy to see the life come back into her eyes. “Do you wish to come with me?”

Ymir gripped his hands deathly tight. She was still trying to comprehend those words, but she didn’t want to let go. This warmth, this kindness, this comfort, this boundless freedom: she had never felt it before. It was so different from what she had before. She…wanted to go with him. She wanted to go. She wanted the love and freedom he offered her. Ymir, despite her own fear, nodded her head, answering his question.

 “Then come with me, Little One,” Primus offered, “Let us go home, together.”

Ymir began shaking, shocked by the god’s words and offer, the tears pouring down her cheeks. Primus lifted his hands to touch her cheeks and wipe the tears that were falling. She slowly lifted her hands to touch the ones there, actually registering the physical contact, surprised by the soft touch and warmth he continued to give. She let out a cry of sorrow and relief, the first real and raw emotion she let out in years. She cried and cried and cried. She tightened her grip, not wanting this being to let go of her. Primus wrapped his arms around her and Ymir hugged him tightly. He rubbed her back as she cried in his chest.

“Little One, I promise you,” he began as he looked down at her and wiped her tears, “As long as I still function, no one will ever hurt you again. I promise.”

Primus saw the smallest ghost of a smile on her lips before nodding his head in reassurance. Primus smiled brightly towards her, tears coming down his face. He quietly laughed and hugged her close once more. Ymir continued crying into his chest, feeling all of her tension and stress leave her body in an instant. Her grief and sorrow were mute. All she felt was the warm and kindness this gentle being was willing to give to her. This…this is what love was. It had to be.

Primus raised his head and spoke ancient words. Both titan shifters watched the blue stream of energy surround Primus as he spoke this unfamiliar language. They grew fearful when they saw that his eyes were beginning to glow once more and his tears began to fade. When he finished speaking, the tree began to fall apart. It crumbled and turned to dust, and the dust flew up towards the stars. Eren then noticed a flower sprouting and blooming at Ymir’s feet. It looked other worldly, glowing a bright blue in a rather desolate place. Then, three more flowers bloomed next to the first one, and then nine formed. Before Eren realized it, multiple flowers began to spring up and bloom. This garden continued to expand for miles; the flowers blooming under Eren and Zeke. Eren watched as it went on for miles, a never ending field of flowers. He turned his head upward, and saw the starry night change into a mix of day and night. A sun began to shine while the stars glistened in the sky. Eren gasped when he saw the shining mountain lights that Armin had once told him about when they were kids, while three moons appeared in his line of sight. It was…it was indescribable.

[waterdeep-weavemoss]

Reunion

Kinktober Day 1

I'm not using prompts for this, just writing what I feel like each day. Today's song is Sober by Lorde.

Doe stumbled home to the little hovel she'd settled into in the lower city. Cradled in her palm was an orb, swirling with smoke. It was warm to the touch. She closed and locked her door, padded down to her basement on soft-booted feet. With care, she placed the orb on the table in the corner; it might once have been a hidden altar, stubs of candles bleeding wax into the smooth surface. She replaced them with fresh candles from the stash in the chest on the opposite wall and lit them with a murmur.

'I hope this works,' she said aloud. Perching on the rickety chair, she took a deep breath, placed her hands either side of the orb and let its warmth suffuse her.

When she opened her eyes, she was gazing on a richly appointed office; plush red leather sofas, a dark panelled desk, the glow of a hundred candles in braziers. And there, lounging, the devil who'd been following her almost since the moment she'd crashed into the sword coast.

He was sipping wine that glowed ruby red in the light, apparently unconcerned.

So he's home. If I tell the others, we might have a chance.

With a gesture, Raphael conjured a second glass, poured more wine. Doe frowned, trying to peer at the door to see if he had company.

And then he glanced over his shoulder, transfixing her with his infernal yellow eyes, smiling with sharp teeth.

He can see me, she realised with the cold slip of dread in her belly. Fuck.

He snapped his fingers, and with a jolt she was yanked from her realm into his own.

'Spying, little mouse?' He tilted his head, an indulgent smile playing around his mouth. 'That's unlike you. You're usually so sweetly straightforward.'

What could she say to that?

'Idle curiosity,' she tried.

He tutted, standing. 'You're a bad liar. I'll let it go, this time.' Reaching out, he took her jaw in his clawed hand; his cambion form dwarfed her. 'Hmm. Drink.' He lifted the goblet of wine he'd conjured to her lips. Scowling, she drank, feeling the burn of something fortified slide down her throat. 'Delicious, isn't it?'

'Hmm,' she said noncommittally.

'You're desperate to kill me, aren't you?'

'I'm not desperate for anything.'

That was a lie, too. She'd been making plans since the shadow cursed inn, where she'd witnessed him preying on Mol.

'Keep lying to me,' he said softly. 'And see how well that goes for you.'

'I'm not lying.' She wrenched her jaw from his grip and stepped back. His tail thrashed in anger, mouth a thin disapproving line. 'Take me back home.'

His eyes glittered, alight with savage glee. 'No. If you will use those lovely eyes of yours to spy on me, the least you can do is allow me this. Have you come to make a deal, mouse?'

'No.'

'Then what,' he said, voice low and dangerous as he stalked forward, eyes narrowing as she backed toward the desk, 'do you want?'

A dangerous question.

She shrugged. Her heart was racing, the reality of her situation sinking in. Some part of her was singing in triumph and the rest was damn near terrified. She searched his gaze, saw the sparks of hunger and desire.

Gale had been right. The devil was desperate.

'Depends. What do you want?'

He growled, lifted her with one arm to settle her on his desk. 'I want your soul,' he rasped. 'And if I cannot have it I'll settle for possessing your body and haunting your mind.'

She dug her hands into the desk to stop their anxious trembling. He surged forward to envelop her in the heat of lips and tongue, the pleasure-pain of tooth and claw; raking a hand down her back, the soft leather of her armour in shreds beneath, red scratches raising on her skin. She gasped into his mouth, pushed her hands against his chest. He broke away with a smirk.

'Well?' he purred. 'What's your answer?'

'Yes,' she said breathlessly. 'The answer is yes. Make good on your threats, devil.'

He tangled his clawed hand in her hair, pulling her head back to kiss and mark her throat, drawing whimpers from her lips. Every one was satisfying, but when he pushed the ruins of her armour from her shoulders and closed his teeth on her shoulder, he moved his hands to her legs, divesting her of the soft leather to reveal soft unmarked skin.

'This won't do,' he breathed into her ear. 'So unmarred. I won't have it, mouse. Tomorrow you will look in the mirror and the only thing you will see is me.'

He grasped the plushness of her thighs, warm rivulets of blood welling under his touch. She hardly cared; to be desired was to be hurt. Her head swam with overwhelm, nose filled with cherries and smoke, the taste of his lips on her tongue, the gentle, dark rumble of his voice in her ears. She was almost outside of her body, a creature of sensation. Her eyes fluttered closed momentarily as he murmured words that he didn't mean, too sweet not to be poison.

And then fire, heavy and searing, as he sheathed himself within her. She screamed and it mingled in the air with his triumphant laugh. His weight crushed into her, pressing her into the desk, unable to move. He captured her lips again, tongue roughly catching drops of blood, his hum of satisfaction rumbling in her chest, his groans of pleasure in her own throat.

She came with little warning, crashing into starbursts behind her eyes, clinging with blunt nails to his shoulders. His hand slid to her lower back as she went limp, his pace vicious and focused. He licked and bit and kissed every part of her he could reach, chased and chased and took from her body and drew more pleasure from her, more screams, more, and more, and more, and then more still-

and then he roared as he came, filling her with near unbearable heat, pulling her to his chest and settling into the leather seat again. She was exhausted and aching, soft and pliant against him, accepting more wine with no complaint.

'This will never happen again,' she murmured.

'Of course it won't,' he agreed, though he'd not bothered to remove himself from her little mortal body just yet. 'Go to sleep, mouse.'

It's not safe, she thinks through the fog of exhaustion. But better the devil you know.

Tags:

@bluerosetarot @dansnotavampire @further-than-forever

@forget-me-maybe @poetryvampire @sasha199 @wandawillow

@boufsy @owlseeyoulaterpal @lanafofana @amorgansgal

@aryancunin @miradelletarot @marlowethebard

@crimson-and-lavender @reeseykins @medra-gonbites

@roguishcat @weaverofnetheril @galedekarioswifey @hyperfixationstation128 @lastlight-inn

@astarryvamp @feedthepheasants @dabigstinky @dreamingofthewild @ladyofcrowsandcoffee

[professional-rat-eater]

NOOOO NEVER STOP I'M ABSOLUTELY OBSESSED WITH WITH ALL THE SONGS YOU MENTIONED, I'M GONNA GO RELISTEN TO THEM ALL RIGHT NOW WITH THIS IN MIND, that's exactly i what i wanted from the tags🙂‍↕️thank you so much for giving me your dm song recs, this is so much fun! Also funnily enough, one of the few songs that i personally had in mind while drawing this was angeleyes lmaooo it is SOOO them/Armand coded!!

I am so late to answering this, so I am so sorry for that. I’m so glad you liked my song suggestions. Devil’s Minion are laced with something because I have never made a playlist for fictional characters this long before. I do have many, many more songs.

Firstly, Long, Long Time by Linda Ronstadt, as used beautifully in TLOU, came out in 1970. Very sad. This one is absolutely not playing in a club because its so sad but its a really great song for them. 

Cats In The Cradle (1974) is about an absentee father and his son. Daniel was an absentee father, and Armand maybe has the most severe case of daddy issues in history. Of course, Daniel hadn’t fucked up his daughters in the 70s, so hearing the song again would be twice as painful.

Also just remembered Silver Springs by Fleetwood Mac came out in 1977!!!! Perfect for them. 

Psycho Killer by The Talking Heads was 1977, though perhaps a little on the nose. Armand is both a psycho and a killer though, and we love him for it.

Babooshka by Kate Bush is my personal official Devil’s Minion song and it came out in 1980, so just missing the seventies. I adore this song though because its about a woman tricking her husband into having an affair with her by pretending to be someone else. She creates a new persona, leaves him letters and eventually convinces him to meet her somewhere. One of the lines is “when he laid eyes on her he got the feeling they had met before”. I mean its the perfect allusion to what Armand was doing pretending to be Rashid. Was he testing Daniel’s memory? I think it’s very possible. Also Daniel trying to sing Kate Bush is a hilarious visual.

Wuthering Heights would also be a great song for the couple who gave Cathy and Heathcliff a run for their money in regards to toxicity, and that was 1978.

Under Pressure was 1981 so again, just missing the seventies, but I suppose it depends on how long DM were together. They were together well into the 80s in the books, but it depends where the show goes with it. I think there’s something particularly devastating about Daniel feeling unexplainable grief hearing one of the biggest songs of all time. It’s also just a soul crushing song, especially if you’ve seen the movie Aftersun.

I hope they were together long enough to witness Live Aid or something like that. That was 1985 so they probably would’ve broken up not long after, but that was such a huge moment. If not that specifically, I want them to have some big musical event that punctuates their time together so Daniel could be thrown back into the past when they go to the Lestat concert together.

[fantasies-fairytales-n-fics]

Thranduil and Josie Pt. 176- My Bloody Valentine

Summary: Josie sings a tune that falls upon astounded ears. Moose, The Elvenking and Thranduil battle. Josie fears she is losing her own battle. She and Lola have a heart to heart. Lola attempts to help. A spoonful of warlock magic makes the medicine go down. Rahl feels the wrath of his kin. A heroic act is foiled. Love is declared. Charles and Lola conspire. Another is missing. She-devil alert. Lola is down for the count. Rahl is too, for a hot mess of a moment. REDRUM!!! Rahl "shockingly" submits. Thranduil senses a sinister shift deep within his very soul.

*Chapter Warnings* BLOOD BLOOD BLOOD! Violent death depictions!!!! sexual and strong language, angst, mentions of rape,

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Josie returned to her chambers with tear swollen eyes and excessively panting after running from one end of the castle to the other without a moment of rest. As she opened the door, clutching her anxiety ridden chest, Lola sprung to her feet with worry. "Josie, where have you been? I need to tell you about...are...you alright? You've been crying."

"How perceptive of you." Josie snapped and made her way to Leean's cradle, peering down at her dreaming daughter.

"Would you like to talk about it? Is it because of Haldir?"

Josie's eyes rolled as she kicked her hated heels off and poured a glass of wine, offering none to Lola. "Do not speak to me of that exasperating elf. In fact, do not speak to me at all."

"I...I'm sorry, I...I just thought you should know I was told that Haldir left. To where, I do not know."

"Hmmph. Good riddance." she scoffed and knocked back her drink. "You can leave too."

"L...leave? But there is more that I need to tell y..."

"There is nothing more that I care to hear. I want to be alone with my daughter."

"Did...you find my fath....Darken Rahl? Is that what has you so upset?"

Josie sharply turned to her. "Have your ears gone deaf?? LEAVE."

"Y..yes miss." Lola squeaked and quickly departed.

Instantly, Josie tugged at the zipper of her dress and tore it off as if she were on fire. After slipping on new attire and touching up her tear streaked face, she returned to her daughter's cradle and sat upon the bed to view her once more. Besides Legolas, Leeanduil was the only way she could see Thranduil's face clearly.

It had been pointless in refreshing her makeup, for she was now in tears once more as she watched her six week old little girl sleep, frightened she would soon lose all the love she had left for her child and her King.

In desperation to stay in the moment with her feelings, she began to softly sob her way through a song of relevance that had strangely came to mind. Closing her eyes as she did so, she envisioned Thranduil holding Leean.

"Close your eyes, give me your hand. Darling, do you feel my heart beating? Do you understand? Do you feel the same? Am I only dreaming? Is this burning an eternal flame? I believe it's meant to be. Darling, I watch you when you are sleeping. You belong with me. Say my name. Sun shines through the rain. A whole life so lonely and then you come and ease the pain. I don't want to lose this feeling...."

Thranduil and his company had resumed their journey alongside the River Running after a brief rest, for the Elvenking strongly believed there was no rest for the wicked and each moment that passed on reclaiming what was his, his newly acquired impatience grew as did the blackness of his tainted heart.

As he traveled in silence and solitude atop his great elk at the lead of his elven army, he had nothing better to do than be inside his own head and in his relaxation, it opened a doorway he was ever so certain he had permanently secured.

What he heard earned his prompt attention and brought Moose to a screeching halt, for the elk had heard it too. The resounding angelic voice of his emotional Queen, just as he had heard her cries for help for months upon end before he had discovered her in his realm the night she escaped her abusive captor.

Thranduil's eyes widened as the breeze simultaneously washed her cherry essence all over him. What was happening? He did not permit nor want the intrusion and the Elvenking was about to terminate the connection, but the elk who adored the Queen, had other plans.

Launching up onto his hind legs, the beast reached for the tangerine sky with peddling hooves, bayed a raging roar of hot steam into the chilled December air. The faithful and loyal companion had never defied his elven master, but the stag knew of the malevolence that consumed the lost Ellon and he felt compelled to enforce the same protection that Thranduil would give him when needed.

"Moose! Dorth- cín near!" (Stay your place), Thranduil bellowed with command, struggling with the reigns to control the disobedient animal of substantial strength as Josephine's continuing tune fueled his rebellion.

His hooves heavily reconnected with the ground, stomping about and turning the Elvenking in circles as he vigorously huffed, bobbing and shaking his head until Thranduil, with great agility, swiftly dismounted and fearlessly stood beneath the steaming snout no one would dare approach.

Thranduil's moonstone eyes softly gazed into the largely round and moistened chocolate eyes of the normally gentle giant and placed his hand upon his lengthy snout, instantly calming him. This continued until Josephine's voice and scent dissipated into the wind.

Thranduil calmly spoke, offering words of comfort as he stroked the brawny beast. "I understand your pain old friend and I will not dismiss it because it is real. But keep in mind that pain causes weakness. There is a war ahead of us that must not be compromised by such emotion. You must find a place within you to contain it's existence."

In turn, Moose shared his telepathic thoughts to his master before bowing in submission for Thranduil to remount. "The true war lies somewhere within you. You must find that place and fight for what you love, for that is what's real. Do not dismiss nor underestimate your own suffering. Pain also causes strength."

Arching a bushy brow and clenching his jaw, Thranduil's stance stiffened as he lifted his chin, narrowing his eyes downward at the very wise and valiant old elk. "Undauntingly bold are you?" he snarled as his lip curled into a pleased grin. "From one King to another, I commend and respect your lion-hearted spirit."

As the journey carried on, Jareth's blood, paired with the power of the citrine ring, intensified the Elvenking's battle against the eternal flame burning in the shallow of Thranduil's very soul and Josephine's heartfelt song and own eternal flame had been an accelerant, much like the moonstones when united.

Anger now consumed the dark elf. Discreetly he held his breath, willing the flame into suffocation and soon, his bottom lip began to quiver and his eyes glistened of tears but it was not for lack of air, for elves could hold their breath for an inscrutable amount of time. It was because not even his will or his own magic was strong enough to fight the power of twin flames. The darkened Elvenking had once vowed he would never allow Josephine back into his heart after her prior invasions but Thranduil's pain was an underestimated strength just as Moose's percipience proved.

Strong and silent sobbing had now overtaken Josephine for she was fearful of when her moment of clarity would rescind. It was as if her tears temporarily cleansed the venom but she knew she could not cry forever and a knock upon the door ceased the waterworks altogether.

"Just a moment." she called out as she wiped her face and soaked up the tears from her eyes with a tissue.

"Who's there?' she whispered against the door.

"It's Lola, my lady. May I return?"

Feeling bad for how she treated her faithful friend, Josie opened the door and broke down once again at the sight of her.

Lola's loving arms quickly wrapped around her. "Please, come sit and tell me what ails you."

"It's...everything." Josie sniffled as they sat across from each other in the living quarters of the chamber to not wake Leean. "I'm losing myself Lola and everyone I love."

"You have not lost me? Nor your daughter. And Legolas is still here." she sweetly assured, still feeling the sting of the Prince's harsh 180.

"But for how long? I do not know how long I have until I am not me at all anymore and turn on everyone. Look what I've done to Haldir. He must be disgusted with me to have actually left. He was the only one who ever kept his promise to never leave me and Garrett...well...I get it now, why he left this time. He's ashamed of who he is. The dark side of him that he never wanted me to see. I guess that's why he chose to reunite with Kate and now that's what I am becoming. Rahl's venom is reeling me in and he...he was so cruel to me earlier."

"Of course he's cruel. He's a dark warlock lord. Wait...so you did see him?"

"His persona anyways. He..he carried Stephane's image because he was weak but..." Josie began to sob again. "But he's never coming back either. He's my only hope of being me again and I don't know how to revive him. He's as lost to Rahl as I am. My soul is turning black like his."

"Nonsense. You are a lady of light and if anything, you have the strongest love keeping you you right there in that cradle and you hold her father your heart. He will always be there if you seek him out."

"You are wrong Lola. He is gone. I haven't felt him in weeks. He doesn't come to me anymore. For a moment, I thought I had smelled him, even heard his voice in the garden this morning, but it was only the trickery of that evil Ravenna to weaken me and take my blood. Thranduil is only a memory now that's fading."

Lola took her hand. "I am so sorry. I cannot imagine a life without the man you truly love."

"Can't you?"

"I...I'm sorry?"

"Legolas. It is he you love is he not?"

Lola blushed, but her eyes saddened. "Josie...it does not matter. His love for you is quite obvious."

"And as you know, as does he, I do not return his love in the way he desires. His heart has been broken and my own heart breaks because of that. He now protects it. He keeps you at arms length not of his own wish but give him time. It is also obvious that he cares deeply for you. I've seen it. I feel you can mend his heart and restore his faith in love. And know this Lola...if anything is to ever happen to me, I have asked Legolas to be his sister's guardian. I would like it very much if you were to be at his side and I believe that will happen someday. I trust you with her life Lola."

"Josie...I...I do not know what to say. I would be honored. Of course I would look after her, guard her with my life but it will not be necessary, for nothing is going to happen to you and I am going to do my damnedest to see to it."

Lola hopped to her feet. "I will be back shortly."

"Lola?? What are you going to...."

Lola smiled as she opened the door. A smile that held a hint of wickedness. "Get some rest."

Rahl had refreshed himself out in the snow covered gardens, breathing in the fresh crisp air to void out the angelica leaves he had inhaled, but Stephane's bothersome image still remained. Regardless, he was feeling more of his wicked self, so he decided it was time to have a little fun. As he sat in the dining hall, sipping on some wicked whiskey with a wicked grin, he closed his eyes and mumbled. "Paybacks are a bitch like you."

A knock sounded upon Catherine's door. Fearing it was Charles or possibly even Rahl, she froze solid in her seat, hoping whomever it was would go away.

"Mother, are you in there? I really need to speak with you."

Catherine sighed in relief to hear her son Francis' voice and sprinted to the door, yanking him inside. "Francis, where on earth have you been?!! Darken Rahl has seized Stephane's body and he attacked your brother last night. His own son Francis!! Do you have any idea what he will do to us if he finds out you did not burn the real letter from Thranduil??? Stephane already despises you so I assure you that Rahl does too!"

"Mother, that is why I am here. I think you should sit down."

"You want me to sit?? At a time like this???"

"Mother....SIT DOWN!" the Lake Town King barked.

Practically jumping out of her skin at his clamored command, she did as he said.

"A..al..alright. I am sitting. There is no need to shout at me. It is not like you."

"I think he knows. I think...I have been poisoned."

"W..what did you say??"

At that very moment, tears of blood as red as her gown began to pour from Francis' eyes and as Catherine ran to him, he collapsed in her arms.

"Francis...FRANCIS!! SOMEBODY HELP!! HURRY!!!" she cried.

Her shill screams were heard by Francis' Queen and two servants who had been down the hall tending to the seam on Mary's gown and as they raced into the room, they were all quite dumbfounded at what they were witnessing.

"Mary!! Mary, your King has been poisoned. He's dying!!"

"What???" Mary frantically asked and scoured the room with her worried eyes only to see Catherine leaning over as if she were holding something, only there was nothing there. "Catherine, your son is in the city."

When Catherine looked back at her hands, they were empty. It was then that she believed she had just experienced a premonition.

"I...I have just had a vision."

Rahl opened his eyes and swallowed down the remaining whiskey in his goblet, then he smiled from ear to ear as he released a deep cackle. "Oh Catherine, indeed you did. Tick tock you wretched shrew. I am far from done with you."

As he rounded the corner, making his way back to his chambers, he almost collided with a fuming Lola.

"You!!" she screeched and belted him across the face with a hearty slap strong enough to impair his balance.

Seemingly thrilled by her bout of rage, he smiled. "Well now, if it isn't my long lost daughter...Lola."

"I am not YOUR daughter. I am Stephane's daughter you miserable excuse for a man!!"

"Oh but we are one in the same as everyone likes to debate against. Considering I have not seen you in well over a decade, what have I done to spark such madness, which by the way, I highly enjoy. Like father, like dau..."

"Oh shut up! I am nothing like you nor do I intend to be. Dare you really ask of your insidious indiscretions??? Shall we begin with my mother?? You defiled her!! You held her captive! You forced her to give up my sister Sarah and now she is in the clutches of another vile monster!"

"Josselyn is the only one at fault for what happened to your poor sister. If she had remained here, Harker would never have gotten his wolfy hold on her."

"You mean just like he got his wolfy hold upon me WHILE I was here???"

"Stephane is to blame for your disappearance, not I!"

"And Stephane is the one who saved me! Now give me back my father or I'll..."

"You'll....what? little...girllll. " Rahl snarled into her face.

Lola cringed at his peppery breath and fumbled through her words in fear, knowing that she had no magic power, or at least she didn't know how to use it if she had and it surely would have been no match for his. "Just give him back. Please. And leave Josie alone."

"Ahhhhh, so that's what your empty threat is really about. Sweet little Josephine. Even if I wanted to do something for her, I cannot, nor would I! Her soul is rotting and she will soon be mine and you my dear child. You will be next....and then Charles and Bash...I think you get the idea. One happy little family we all will be."

Emerging from the darkness of a stairwell, stood the Elvenprince with his arrow aimed at the dark lord of Dorwinion. "Over my dead body! Back away from the girl before I put another dose of poison into your arm!"

"Legolas!!" Lola shrieked with both happiness and fright.

Rahl's eyes slitted at the elf as he bravely stepped in front of the spiked iron threat, placing it against his chest. "You dare to raise your bow to me yet once again on my own lands. I should have ended you the first time. Your cat like stealth is admired but your skill is of no speed nor match for my magic."

It was faster than the speed of light and unseen to the eyes, the morphing of a man into the largest beast of a cat Lola and Legolas had ever witnessed and in a split second, the elf's bow was merely splinters on the ground, completely obliterated by the striking force of the prodigious paws and razor sharp claws.

As Lola's hysteric screams echoed through the hall, Legolas pulled his blade from the holster on his back, but that too was swiped away in an instant by the fierce strike of the panther's other powerful paw, then the ferocious feline pounced, pinning Legolas beneath it's suffocating weight.

Lola bolted to the knife, swiftly picking it up and clutching both hands around the handle, pointing it straight at the snarling snout before her. The mirror-like blade swayed and shook as she gasped through her hyperventilating breaths. Her gaping eyes fluttered out streams of tears that began to blind her vision.

"Lola! Back...away!!!" Legolas pointlessly pleaded as she became paralyzed with fear.

The monster sized head raised up as did the hair on the scruff of the beast's neck clear to the end of it's tail. Face to face, blazing yellow eyes glared directly into hers. The ears went back and a ghastly growl rolled up it's throat, then the mouth opened, revealing pearly fangs of death as a scorching roar laced of pepper blew Lola's hair straight out behind her.

She stumbled back from the force and the fear, dropping the weapon and before she could even regain her balance, she was suddenly reprimanded by one of many warlock guards and Rahl, still in Stephane's image, was standing before her once more.

"Seize him and take him to the dungeons to rot for an attempt on my life!" Rahl commanded.

"What about the girl?" a guard asked as Legolas was detained and his bloodied wrists chained while two other guards poked blades to his back.

It was apparent to Rahl that the two cared for one another and it sickened him to his core. "Leave her to me. Take him away."

As Legolas was promptly escorted away, Lola attempted to run after the Prince, but Rahl roughly clutched her arm. She screamed, cried and struggled something fierce but it was futile. "Nooooooo!!!!! Legolas!!! NOOO!!!! Let him go!!!! I....I love you Legolas!!!!!!"

Just as they were turning the corner, Legolas halted and glanced back in shock from her words. Their eyes shared an intense moment and then...he was gone.

"NOOOOOOOOOO!!!!" she cried again and dropped to her knees in defeat.

"Oh get up you whimpering fool." Rahl barked, scorned by her actions. "This is all your fault and now, your punishment will be to reap what you have sown. Go on. Go cry your little eyes out like the little girl that you are. You are an embarrassment and a disgrace. I will handle you later just as I have your mother!!"

"Wh...what??? What did you do to my mother!!!" she raged and lunged at him, only to be shoved back to the ground.

"Still, you do not learn. What am I to do with you?"

"Father!! Leave my sister alone!"

Rahl spun around to see the glowing eyes of his son Charles. "THIS again. I just want to go back to my chambers and have some fucking sex! Is that so much to ask??? It seems there was too much sparing of the rod and spoiling of the children in your upbringings, but who says you cannot teach adolescents new tricks?"

Raising his hand, an electrical bolt charged across the hall and knocked Charles onto his back.

"You're mad!!!" Lola shouted and ran to the boy she once crushed on as he had her before either knew of her paternal parentage.

"Damn right I am mad! Now both of you, get out of my sight!"

Lola helped a stunned but seemingly unscathed Charles to his feet and quickly, they both hurried off with Charles leading Lola back to Bash's chambers to check on his condition as he filled her in about his cat scratch fever. but when they arrived, their warlock uncle was also missing.

"Now what do we do Charles??? Who is going to help us?? My mother is missing too."

"I know. I have already searched high and low for her to heal Bash, but I fear it may be too late."

"We need to free Legolas! They took him to the dungeons!"

"Yes, I passed them in the halls and that is when I heard you screaming. He will be heavily guarded. There is no way for us to free him."

Lola thought for a moment as she nervously paced. "What about your powers?? You could trick them or something."

"I could...IF I wanted to risk the wrath of my father once more."

"Charles, you heard him. He is going to be...ummm... busy."

"And what about after? I've already used my powers upon his guards once when he was still himself and that did not go well. Now that he is the dark half, can you imagine how that will turn out? I am not strong enough to challenge him alone."

"It would seem you were more than capable last night in the forest?"

"Yes Lola, but I had a small army with me AND he was only temporarily defeated because I wounded him, which I did not enjoy doing. I will not hurt him again."

"I understand. I do not want to hurt him either. He's my father too."

"Yeah...that is still so weird." Charles added, feeling humiliated and even angry. "You and I grew up together and none of us were the wiser that we were siblings...wait...what about you Lola? Have you tried to see if you have any power? Surely you must."

"No...and if I do...I am by far clueless on how to use it. I believe you are right. You and I would still not be enough and even if we were...what would we do to stop his insanity?"

"We could...contain him maybe? Until we can figure out a way to bring my father back?"

"You mean, like trap him...in his own dungeons?? He will just use his power to free himself."

"Not if he is weakened. The bars are iron and so are the shackles. Look at him now. His image. He's still weak."

Lola chuckled. "Not that weak. You missed the part where he just transformed into the giant beast that attacked Bash....and..." Lola began to panic. "Oh my god, Charles! Legolas, he was...bleeding. What if he was scratched??? From my understanding, elves are not immune to poison. Look what Catherine did to Haldir!! We need to find the Marchwarden. He will help!"

"Lola...Haldir is gone and we do not know where to even look. It is dangerous out there with Harker lurking about and now Ravenna and the white witch as well, not to mention the dead that have risen. As far as what my mother did to Haldir, that was poison, not venom. Haldir told me once they are immune to vampire venom, so maybe it holds true for all venom?"

Lola began to cry. "Maybe isn't good enough! I have to help Legolas! I just have to!"

"Where's Josie??"

"Oh my...Charles, we need to tell her what's happened! Before she..."

Charles tilted his head at her pause. "Before she...what?"

"Before she too is not herself anymore, for then, she will be our enemy."

The Narcisse siblings raced back to Josie's chambers only to find that things had gone from bad to worse. The fiery redhead was unconscious and sprawled out on the floor and Leeanduil was crying in her crib.

"Josie! Wake up!" Lola shouted as she shook her shoulders. "Charles, she is burning with fever. The venom is spreading again. We need to get her into bed and one of us needs to go find a healer. There must be something they can do to at least slow it down."

Charles, although of a very slim build, scooped the Queen right up as if she were as light as a feather and placed her onto the bed. "I will go. You stay here with her and lock the door behind me. Let no one in. As far as I am concerned, no one can be trusted."

That was the last Lola had seen of her brother that day, which then had turned into night. Hours had passed and Josie was constantly tossing and turning, mumbling words that appeared to be of black magic incantations and her skin felt like it had been badly sunburned, but she was not feverish anymore or even sweating. Any attempt Lola made to place a cool wet cloth upon her forehead, Josie thrashed about and cursed her as if it holy water, which in a sense it was since it was that of the protected Mirkwood waters. The only thing left for Lola to do was pray.

She opened the sheer curtains adorned over the balcony doors to allow optimal absorption of the full moon's rays into Josie's body, believing it had healing properties for many ailments and then she pulled her rosary from her pocket and wrapped it in her folded hands, then proceeded to kneel beside the bed, making the sign of the cross. "Our Father, who art in Heaven, hallowed be thy name. Thy Kingdom come, thy will be done, on earth as it is in Hea..."

Lola froze and opened her eyes as the grandfather clock in the halls struck midnight. After the 12th chime, Josie became ominously still and then her eyes of moonstones also opened, but as she blinked and reopened them, they turned to eyes of pure coal like that of a crow.

"Josie?" Lola gasped as she tried to move away but Josie aburptly arose and grabbed the candlestick on the night stand, swinging it at Lola's head and knocking her out cold onto the floor.

Climbing out of the bed, Josie cocked her head downward at the bleeding girl and wickedly grinned. "She's gone."

(Viewer/Reader discretion below!!!)

In his birthday suit, an aggravated Rahl stroked his uncooperative cock at the bath's edge while an anxious Seppia, standing with her back turned to him at a small table, did not speak.

"Seppia, do tell me why I am doing the job you are paid to do?" he snapped as he yanked his hand away from his limp girth with disgust.

Her silence and reluctance to face him only made him believe she was possibly shy, nervous and inexperienced due to her youthfulness. Sighing heavily, he moved towards her.

She gulped as she felt him approaching from behind. Her skin crawled as his hot breath grazed her ear. "Surely you have done this before? My men told me you were rather eager for them to choose you over the others in line at the docks. I cannot imagine a virgin would wish to take all of this pleasure inside of her without any practice, unless....you're one who enjoys torturous pain. My dear, are you into masochism? I must say, I find pain to be quite an aphrodisiac."

"Cat got your tongue?" he purred into her ear. "You don't need to speak to use it, although I would not mind a few, strike that, many dirty nothings whispered into my ear. Either way, your duties will be carried forth. The cat will have more than your tongue this night. There is no backing out. Why don't you begin by massaging the heat pressed against your back?"

As his hands rested upon her bare shoulders, she instinctively flinched and jerked one shoulder away, overruling his unwelcomed advances. His ego and the cock he could not even raise repulsed her. Sadist pig, she thought as her heart raced and her pores perspired from rapidly increasing adrenaline.

"So you wish to play cat and mouse is it? How I do enjoy a challenge. Games are quite entertaining but after the day I have had, drawn out foreplay is not on my agenda. To be quite frank, your resistance is beginning to piss me off. I would highly advise in not doing such. It will not end well for you."

Through her teeth, she finally spoke. "Like it didn't for my mother when you slit her throat before her young son's very eyes??"

Against her stomach, Seppia had been gripping a large clay vase filled with water that contained a very high dose of witch deterring salt, undetectable to the nose unlike the fragrant angelica leaves she had used earlier that day to weaken him, but the sodium solution was still strong enough to stun a warlock where he stood and delay his reaction time long enough to kill him with the blade of silver she also harbored.

In the split second Rahl had to react, he was able to recount the truthful event as the memory of Alice, a past servant of many years ago and the boy of approximately 10 years old named Nikolas, flashed before him. The woman had indeed been executed by Darken Rahl's hand and sword, for she had betrayed him by aiding Josselyn and her grandfather Zeddicus in sneaking Josselyn's baby Isabella out of the castle.

Taking an instant step back, his brows furrowed and his eyes recklessly moved about as he then remembered the infant daughter Alice also had, but never knew her name.

Without further warning, Seppia spun around and swung the vase with immense force, smashing it against the side of his head. As the salt water washed over him, blinding his vision and incapacitating his magical abilities, the powerful blow had thrust him backwards against the raised stone ledge of the bath, rendering him momentarily incoherent.

"And now I will avenge the mother and brother you stole from me, you murderous monster!!!!" she screamed, then charged and mounted him, raising the blade she pulled from the garter around her thigh....but as she did so, a bone-breaking hand clutched her wrist.

The knife was then ripped from Seppia's hand as she too had no time to react and without hesitation, her throat was immediately slit wide open just as her mother's had been.

In a matter of seconds, the entire room reflected of red in the candlelight. A warm crimson fountain sprayed forth from Seppia's neck, thoroughly showering Rahl in the deathly hue he so favored above any other as she was pushed over his debilitated body and sent plunging into the sizeable vat of water, instantly turning it in to a pool of blood.

As Rahl found the strength to turn over and support himself upon the bath's edge, his mouth wide open and panting as he gasped for air, his blindness vanquished, allowing his gaping eyes to view the floating sight before him.

It was then he heard Josephine's chuckling voice as she sat beside him. "Blood bath anyone? It would pair nicely with Dorwinion's finest red vintage, don't you agree my bloody valentine?"

As he processed her words, Rahl gazed at the red rippling water and knew he would never look at his wicked wine the same again, although it most certainly would not stop him from indulging in it.

Realizing that Seppia's blood which covered him from head to toe had cleansed the stinging salt from his body, his strength promptly returned and slowly, he stood stood, glancing down at a very pleased grin forming upon Josephine's lips as her eyes devoured his bare backside.

"You...you saved my life." he humbly admitted, finally turning to her.

Now standing before his blood soaked form in an intentionally chosen long white gown with a scarlet overlay, Josie adjusted her disheveled, saturated breasts and sucked the staining body fluid from her index finger. "I did. And now, do you bloody believe in me? Pun intended."

Rahl was briefly silent as his thoughts continued to clear. "I...I believe that..." he sighed and lowered his eyes. "I want to believe it, more than you know but...I believe that you only saved me to save Stephane."

"You cannot be serious right now. I do not go around killing young girls, or anyone for that matter, especially with such ease, well except for Asher but the bastard had it coming. I do not know what else I can possibly do or say to..."

He decided to test her emotions. "What if I told you that I put the fear of Satan himself into my own daughter, the one you so adore and I had your beloved Legolas placed in my dungeons to rot for raising a weapon to me."

Her brow arched in curiosity. "Oh?" and then she grimaced and shrugged her shoulders. "Well then I guess the asinine, imbecilic elf boy should have learned his lesson the first time he did so."

Rahl was astonished. "Funny....that is exactly what... I told him."

"Also funny," she chuckled, "Speaking of Satan, I too had to put the fear of the Keeper into dear Lola. She was spewing her silly little prayers at my bedside while stupidly attempting to heal me with the light of the moon. Little did the dimwit know that it only fed my transformation. Anywhooo, I had to knock her out. The blasphemy was hurting my ears. Don't worry. She will only have a splitting headache when she awakens. I had to get out of there. I needed to find you. I could sense the danger you were in. I just knew that slut Seppia was up to no good. So, are we good now?? Have I passed with flying red colors?"

"I see." he simply said.

"You see? That's it?" she scoffed, "You STILL do not believe me?? What you see is me NOT running out of here in a panic to save Legolas like you were expecting me to."

"Can you truly blame me for my cynicism?"

"There's a corpse in your bath, so YES I can!! Earlier, you told me that actions were what you needed and I provided them to you on a silver fucking platter so to say! If that is not good enough, then....how about this???"

Josie grabbed his hand and an electrifying light show began in and around their united fingers. The charge was so powerful, so intense that each of their bodies visibly quaked. Simultaneously, they both sucked in orgasmic gasps and their laughs trembled through their smiles as they clung to each other, refusing to break free.

"D..do...y...you....r..remem...ber ...th...this..ss?" Josie asked, smiling as her words jumbled about by the pulsations.

Rhal's reaction was identical. "H...how...c..could..I...f...f...forget...the...f...first...t..ttttime...we...mmmmmet?? I...wasss....s...soo...t...turn...turned...on bbb..by the sh..shock."

"Are...y...you...nnow??"

"L...like...a...f...fuc..king...s...sunr...rise."

Josie broke the connection and pulled him against her. "I can tell that is not all that has risen."

"Meow." he purred. "She's just a devil woman with evil on her mind."

A cat's growl vibrated in Rhal's throat as she grinded her pelvis into his and then they were impulsively lip locked. Slowly, softly, passionately, their mouths moved together, disregarding the gore which blanketed them and soured the air and the putrescence of a slowly sinking Seppia.

The Mirkwood elves were now at the halfway point before the Celduin's joining to the Carnen and they stopped once more for a brief rest, for it had begun to rain. No rest was needed for the evil Elvenking, but he wanted his elven army well rested and fueled for the days to come, for it was approximately 2 days before his arrival in Dorwinion and 11 days before the winter soltice, the night Jareth's army of the dead would wreak havoc upon all of middle earth and the Goblin King would certainly single out Dorwinion for the winter war's commencement.

Feeling the pull of the misty moon, Thranduil, staff in hand, basked beneath the magical rays of twilight in solitude as the rain saturated his nightly altered image.

With all the was occurring, surely things felt amiss for the elf lord, but something more began to gnaw at his ghostly white skin. Something in the rain. Something in his staff that he gripped tightly as it dimly glowed an electric blue and then began to hum as an electric current crawled up his arm and shocked his blackened heart. Something had shifted. Something as dark as he had become.

With a slight gasp, his widened yellow eyes darted to the direction of Dorwionion as the "something" in the rain became a potent scent that overwhelmed his olfactory senses. As he inhaled deeply, his nose cringed and his jaw gritted with an envious rage, for it was the pheromones of his Queen that he was breathing in. An arousing aroma he knew all too well.

A decision was made in that moment. One he had vowed to never repeat again, yet he had found himself betraying his own commands on more than one occasion when it came to Josephine.

Bringing his hand forth that bore Jareth's ring, he caressed the citrine gem with his forefinger and as he did so, he made his demand. "Show me."

Within the stone, a golden mist swirled into a funnel and as it dissipated, a reprehensible vision emerged. An intimate embrace between what appeared to be a bloodied Lord Narcisse and Josephine, smiling and once again...kissing.

"No more!" he barked and twisted the ring to the underside of his finger. "No more indeed." he then spoke in a softer tone, but it held vengeance in it. "No one takes what belongs to me. Now I," he emphasized, "will take AND punish."

@redeemer46