beast from the deep

Greet the creatures

Hello smoke monster, I have brought you embers burned from the deep woods.

Hello shadow beast, I have brought you a candle to extend your reach.

Hello midnight wind, I have brought you a tin to hide during the sun.

Hello distant howl, I have brought you a map so you may find your way home.

Hello invisible one, I have brought you flowers and pollen, show us your beautiful form.

This world is made for monsters.

Things Never Changed

Group: Got7

Member: Mark Tuan

Pairing: member x reader

Genre: Angst/Fluff

Warnings: None

Word Count: 2739

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Okay so I’m slowly becoming Got7 trash thanks to @fortheloveofsuga (fuck you for giving me “feelings”) so I was compelled to write something for them. I just kinda wrote this at like 3am on my phone and debated on whether not to post it, but I decided I would. :) 

@seokvie @gotsinvn @mark-myass (i know y’all appreciate Got7 so here ya go *insert side eye emoji*)

————————–

There’s an old philosophy that says “absence makes the heart grow fonder”. The sentiment seems beautiful. Poetic, even. The thought that your absence from someone’s life will be an ever-present hollowness that makes it nearly impossible to complete simple daily tasks–the constant memory of the one you love dancing along the edges of your mind, just barely out of reach from your shaking and nostalgic fingers. The deep and meaningful love a connection that is blatant and comforting and unwavering, even with thousands of miles of ocean separating you. Poetic, indeed.

But it’s just not realistic.

Keep reading

incandescence; pt.1

Genre: werewolf!au, angst, mystery (lol kinda)

Pairings: taehyung x reader

Word count: 2.8k

Summary: You must run away, as fast as you possibly can. But in that very moment a gust of wind blowing in from seemingly nowhere causes the curtains drawn close on the tiny window to flutter wildly, illuminating the room with a tinge of sunlight that streams in. And that’s when you see him.

Warnings: mentions of blood

prologue, pt. 1


Your mother had found you collapsed at the top of the staircase.

You wake up to the feeling of the soft duvet on top of you and the worry and relief in your mother’s eyes. For a moment you feel almost a bit too disoriented to recall the string of events which had gotten you here. However, your blissful ignorance does not last too long as the memories come flooding back to you all at once. The fear feels raw and fresh in your bones at the mere thought of, well, ’it’. The menacing pair of dark eyes gleaming with a razor like sharpness, the rumbling of the low growls erupting from deep within its chest. A man, a beast, a nightmare. You found both, the reality and falsehood inseparable in your head.

 “Y/N, Oh my God, I was so worried. Don’t you dare die on me like that again.” The panic in your mother’s voice grew progressively, until her words were literally coming out all rushed and jumbled up. “Just what happened? Don’t ever scare me like that again.” Close to tears she plopped down at the foot of your bed, running a hand over her tired face. And suddenly you could no longer bring yourself to tell her the truth.

 Some wicked shadow of a possible ghost suddenly zapped up out of nowhere and the poor faint hearted me passed out at the sight of it. There is a possibility the house is possessed,  Mom and all those horror movies are actually true. Now my soul is in danger. It sounded so absurd in your head that for a moment, even you doubted yourself. Before you knew it a lie that sounded way more close to the truth fell out of your lips. “I think… I might’ve fainted out of exhaustion. I hadn’t really eaten all day. Sorry, I made you worry.” 

 She did not for a second doubt your mumbled explanation, and that moment had you wanting to believe in your own lie.

 *

The coming few weeks are nothing short a literal hell. A hell you’d crafted carefully with your own over active imagination and hyper alert senses. You jump like a scared cat at the slightest of  sounds and the slightest of shifts in the air. Your own heart beat feels a bit too loud in the ever silent misery of your new home. However when weeks tuned into a month, without any menacing dark shadows lingering around you, or anything even remotely poltergeist, you somehow force yourself to find a way to lock up that incident from days back and the paranoia that came with it in a little box which you then carefully hid away somewhere in the back of your mind.  Maybe it had been a hallucination, a trick played by your own exhausted mind on you, after all.

Your mother worked a hectic shift which usually required her to be gone all day. You constantly found yourself worried about her health when day after day she kept working herself down to the bones. “I’m fine Y/N. As strong as ever.” She would tell you with a small smile and even though the dark shadows lining her eyes would tell you a story otherwise, you never pushed it.

 Alone and with nowhere to go, the days felt too long with nothing much to fill in the long uneventful hours. You took care of the house hold chores almost a bit too enthusiastically as they provided you with your much needed distractions. You wanted to be optimistic about this whole situation but the coming months felt daunting when not even a single day passed without dragging on lethargically. It was all too quiet, too tranquil. Your days were caught up in a vacuum. However, even though you had failed to notice any of it, the silence was growing louder by the minute and sooner rather than later you would come to realize that what you once thought was a tranquil nothingness, is no longer as empty or peaceful as it had first seemed.

 *

On one early Thursday morning, you wake up feeling a strange wave of nausea hit you out of nowhere. A foul smell invades your nostrils so overwhelming that you almost gag. It smells like something rotten and decaying. You furrow your eyebrows in puzzlement, you had been thorough with your housemaid duties, disinfecting and bleaching almost every surface in sight every single day without fail. There was no way you could have missed-wait!… the storage room.

 You had never really been in there, never bothering to explore that particular end of the house for some reason. As your mother had explained it, it was a little room which held a few of the broken items and old furniture belonging to the tenants who had lived here previously.  You sighed covering the half of your face with your t-shirt as you sauntered down the hallway, grabbing the bunch of house keys which held the one to the store as well, on your way.

 You had no explanation as to why fear was once again starting to cloud your mind and your feet felt as if they were made of lead. The sickening stench continued to go stronger the closer you got to the store’s door which stood closed at the end of the hallway a good few paces from your bedroom. The urge to just hurl out the contents of your empty stomach was desperately real. This was when your muddled memories of that one eerie evening from several weeks ago began escaping it’s rightful place from the little cage you had tucked them away in, as you stood in front of the door, trying to muster up the courage you needed to push it open. Fumbling around trying to find the key in its bunch you battled the inner conflict where your brain chided you, mocked at you for being such a coward while your entire body and soul wanted to just flee and never come back. 

Wow so what were you now? A paranoid lunatic?

 With that you pushed the door open and the excruciating whiff of burnt flesh and blood almost had you crumbling in an instant. You blinked away the tears which were beginning to form in your eyes and you frantically searched the dimly lit room for the source the smell. A rat it had to be a dead rat. But when your eyes did adjust to the dull lighting of the room, terror began to claw its way out and dread tore apart every bit of composure you had been holding on to.

 There was a pool of coagulating blood on the floor, and the red was smeared on one of the walls resembling the vague shape of handprints. Over your own loud and shallow breaths, you could hear someone else's ragged and unsteady breathing. You were frozen at your spot unable to speculate, unable to make a decision. You were all alone, unarmed, the closest neighbours a mile away. Screaming your lungs out would be a pathetic failed attempt at survival.

 "W-who are you?“ You stammered, not expecting an answer and surely enough you did not get one. You took a tentative step forward red flags going up in your head. You must run away, as fast as you possibly can. But in that very moment a gust of wind blowing in, from seemingly nowhere, cause the curtains which were drawn close on the tiny window to flutter wildly, illuminating the room with a tinge of sunlight that streams in and that’s when you see him.

 The blood curdling scream you let out in that moment could have been loud enough to split the skies apart.

*

Your visions blurry and the pumping of your heart is so hard that it almost hurts. You are breathless and petrified, a deer in front of headlights.

 He sits crouched in one of the corners, his head in between his knees. His silhouette trembles with every breath of his and a low guttural groan rips out of his chest. You snatch the curtains open immediately and your gaze flits downwards landing on the blood covered shreds of the once grey t-shirt he wore, which is now a gruesome shade of crimson. There is so much blood, on his torso, on his hands, his cheeks, you feel light headed just at the sight of it.

“Help me, just this once” his voice is a faint whisper, but his desperation rings loud and clear in the silent room.

 Rationality and common sense are long  forgotten as you rush to grab a first aid kit, a couple wet towels and a bottle of rubbing alcohol from your bathroom. You were nowhere near competent when it came to first aid, the only bits being the things you had learnt watching Grey’s Anatomy and other medical sitcoms. You were sure that the boy and the bloody mess he was in required more than just your superficial knowledge of healing.

 It was hard to keep the disgust and queasiness off your face when within seconds your own hands and clothes were splattered and smudged with his blood. Every time you pressed the wet towel onto his wounds he jolted under the ministrations of your hesitant and trembling hands. The bleeding continued incessantly and within moments the towels would begin to drip with the gushing red liquid.

“I can’t do this. I-I don’t think I can help you. I should call the police, the ambula-” Your own shriek stops you mid-sentence as the boy in front of you, roughly grabs your face with his large bloodied hand, forcing you to look at him directly. “Don’t. You don’t have to do anything. Just let me stay here for a while. I’ll be fine.” Contrary to his actions his words were barely pained whispers as he begged you to let him be. He lets go of your face and you sigh out in relief. “But-” He groans in frustration at you and you swallow your own words but as if he had read your mind, he answers that one thing which was constantly eating you from the inside out. “I do not have any intentions of harming you. You don’t have to be afraid of me. Look, I’ll leave right now if you want but just don’t call anyone, okay?” You had absolutely no reason to take seriously the words falling out of this stranger’s mouth. A con artist, a sweet talking rogue, a psychopathic cold blooded killer, he could be anything and everything gravely dangerous. 

Your faces were inches apart and you peered up at him through your lashes. He seemed to be a boy around your age, perhaps a bit older. His eyes were sealed shut and his face contorted in pain. His lips were chapped and drained of color, parted slightly as he let out short puffs of breath trying to hold on to whatever bit of composure that remained keeping him from screaming out in agony.Maybe you were about to make the mistake of a lifetime, a stupidity that could cost you your life, and perhaps even your mother’s. Maybe he was nothing but a beautiful nightmare, a beast with a seraphic face, and maybe falling for his deceptive innocence was going to be your biggest mistake yet.

 "So I just watch you bleed to death?“ the corners of his lips quirk up and a ghost of a smile plays on his lips. “Yes” he replies “You do exactly that.“ 

 *

The hands of the clock race against each other at a frightening pace as the day flies by in a blink. Soon the fading sunset blends into the incoming night filling the little room with nothing but darkness once again. He does not look up at you even once in all those hours you spend sitting a few inches away from him on the floor, too afraid to move, too afraid to let him out of your sight. The slight rise and fall of his chest are the only indications of him still being alive but other than that he remains completely still. Your gaze wanders to the little window, the curtains fluttering around wildly at even the slightest touch of the winds. When the adrenaline has vanished from your blood stream, you can finally assess the damage of all the stupid impulsive decisions you’ve made ever since you discovered the injured intruder in your store. 

The events from a month back return to you in vivid details and you shudder. Looking at the broken boy in front of you, it is hard to put together any analogies between the two events, between the two intruders. Even though he sits crouched up the way he does, the boy’s face is finally peaceful like a child’s. He appears to be too lean, too… human and harmless, much unlike the burly shadow and its looming and intimidating presence, from your previous unfortunate encounter. There was something predatory in its stance and something venomous in its aura, traits the boy deep in his slumber clearly lacked.

You stand up, suppressing your groans as your legs feel like a thousand pin pricks. You needed to clean up the bloody mess the room was in. It takes almost an hour for you to get rid of the stains which seemed to have engrained themselves into the tiny ridges of the floor’s ageing wood.  Finally when the sting of bleach and disinfectant is way stronger than that of the metallic scent of blood which continues to faintly linger in the air you hear your mother’s car pull up in the driveway. 

You pretended like not a thing had changed in this entire universe during these past 24 hours, like you had not just given an intruder, a possible murderer shelter under the roof of your own house just because you felt sorry for the injured criminal. How were you supposed to explain to her the reason why you could not bring yourself to dial 911.  

 After serving dinner and catching up with your mother over it like any other day, you stayed up that night, pacing the hallway while your mother snored softly, sleeping peacefully in her own bedroom. Trying not to make any unnecessary sounds, you tiptoed to checked up on him twice, getting him a bottle of drinking water and changing his soiled towel for a fresh one. He looked too weak, too pale and your heart yearned for him to get better. Maybe you should have, afterall called an ambulance. But then his desperate plea echoes in your mind so you just stand at the crossroads unable to make a sensible decision, finally just choosing to go along with the wishes of the complete stranger. 

If anything was to go wrong that night, no one but you, yourself would be the one to blame. 

Morning comes when you are far too gone, deep asleep slumped in a chair close to your bed. You jolt awake when you hear a loud thump, like a heavy bag of sand falling loudly onto the wet ground. Apprehension causes you to bolt straight towards your mother's bedroom before you yank the door open. She’s still asleep, breathing and snoring under the covers, unharmed and you almost cry out with relief. 

Tip toeing, you head towards the store, almost not wanting to go in. You felt shaken up and unprepared, unsure as to what awaited you in the other side of the door. A lake of blood? A dead man? Gathering every ounce of courage you make your way in.

The curtains continue to flutter wildly, almost with a kind of desperation. As if they were dying to tell you the many secrets only they knew of. 

The boy was nowhere to be seen, and the cramped up space suddenly feels too huge without him in it.  


a/n- my updates are tragically slow n I’m forever sorry about my lack of motivation. I’ll try my best to post more frequently! thank you for sticking around :) feedbacks are welcomed *howls like a werewolf* *sounds more like a puppy* whoops. 

archiveofourown.org
Bloomtale - Chapter 12 - Kaitogirl - Undertale (Video Game) [Archive of Our Own]
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
By Organization for Transformative Works

Chapter 12 is up!!! And so, Snowdin starts… maybe? :D


For those who can’t access AO3 or just don’t want to do it, the chapter is pasted under this sexy cut!!!

Keep reading

The Little Mermaid And Her Human Prince | 3

Pairings: Taehyung x reader

Genre: Mermaid!au; angst, fantasy, fairy tale

Words: 2.9k

Warnings: none

Summary: Your father, the king of the merfolk, has forbid you to come in contact with the humans. But as you see a ship with humans in need of help, you forget his rule and try to help. Unfortunately, you put yourself in danger and got saved by a beautiful human boy. Since the moment you lied your eyes on him, things have changed.

A/N: Here is the next chapter for you guys! I really hope that you guys will like it! If not just tell me, you can send me criticism, in order to get better! haha This chapter  is slightly shorter than the other ones (only 1k),but I hope you don’t mind?<3 Idk what to say more other than HAVE FUN!


<<previous chapter | Chapter 3 | Chapter list



Taehyung showed you every corner of his magnificent castle. His home was so bright, flooded with the light of the sun. Much different from your home, where it was dark and cold, but Taehyung’s home was so warm and colorful.

“After all this mess, I forgot to ask you what your name is.” Taehyung asked out of nowhere and he was correct. You totally forgot to introduce yourself to him or even Patricia.

“Oh! You are right, how could I forget something this important?” You told him and you felt horrible. “My name is y/n!”

“Y/n.” He repeated, “that’s a beautiful name.”

“Thank you!” You smiled at Taehyung, making him smile as well.

“Taehyung? Where were you, I have searched for you-” you heard a unfamiliar voice. The voice belonged to a man and it sounded deep but it was also innocent and soft. You turned around to see a young, tall man standing behind you. His voice definitely suited his looks. He had brown hair, big, round eyes and was well build. “Oh, your little mermaid has awaken from her sleep.” The man told and your eyes widened. He knew that you are a mermaid? Has Taehyung told him or did he see you in the water?

Keep reading

3

You didn’t know what to do or how to react to the call you had just gotten. Now sure you and Parrish weren’t dating but the two of you had something, neither of you wanted to make the move though. You often spent nights in his bed, curled up in his arms to keep the nightmares at bay and while you would both deny it was nothing more than being best friends, everyone, including the two of you, knew it was more than that

When you ran through the automatic doors, the first thing you saw was the apologetic faces of the pack. You shook your head vigorously. “We’re so sorry y/n” Lydia started, walking toward you. You shook your head again. “No. No, you, you knew he was gonna try and fight that thing and you didn’t tell me! I could have helped” you almost yelled, your tears falling freely down your cheeks. “You couldn’t have stopped it” Scott tried to assure. “I could’ve tried!”

“If you had called me earlier maybe he would be dead” you spat, pushing past them and following the nurse that was taking you his body. The others hadn’t wanted to go in, they knew you and him had, had something, neither of you would admit it though and now you had to go and confirm the body was really him .

Which it was. 

His body lay burnt and still, deep gashes across his body from the beast. You let out a strangled sob, your hand flying over your mouth as tears dripped off your cheeks. “I’ll give you a minuet” the nurse said, patting your shoulder softly before she left. “I could’ve saved you. If they’d just of called me i could’ve saved you” you cried. “I love you” you whispered as you left. 

When you left, you collapsed into your fathers arms, the pack looking on sadly. Everyone really took Parrish for granted, they never expected him to die, the had thought he was indestructible being a hellhound and all. 

“How many people am I gonna loose to this life before I realize I just need to stop getting close to people” you mumbled into your fathers chest. “First mom, Then Allison and now Parrish, Who’s next dad,I can’t loose you too” you cried, feeling his hands gently run through your hair. “We’re hunters sweetheart. We didn’t chose this life and we may not want it but we have to live it, we protect those who cannot protect themselves. Remember” he said weakly, causing you to nod. 

He wrapped his arm around your shoulders as you both began walking out to the car. You turned just before you got out the door. “I’m sorry” you said, only just loud enough for the pack to hear before carrying on walking to the black SUV of your fathers. 

He dropped you at Jordan’s apartment, if he would want anyone to sort out where his things were going, it would be you. You knew that you would have to do the at some point but the real reason you were going there tonight was because you needed to be alone and it smelled like him there, you wanted to be alone but you didn’t want to feel alone and there, you wouldn’t feel alone. 

You had fallen asleep wrapped in his duvet wearing one of his t-shirts. Taking in his scent as you slept soundly. However you were awoken by the noise of someone tripping over and mumbling cussing under their breath. You rubbed your tired eyes and got out of the bed, grabbing the closest thing to you for protection. You crept into the living room just as the intruder flicked on the lights. You screamed and threw the pillow, mentally scolding yourself for not noticing your protection device was a pillow. 

The other person screamed too, catching the pillow just before it hit their face. “Y/n” Parrish asked, your eyes widening when you saw him. “Jordan” you cried, throwing yourself into his arms. He caught you and held you close, allowing your tears to soak his bare chest. 

“You-You were dead” you mumbled as he let you down, smiling at the sight of you in his clothes. You only now realized you weren’t wearing any trousers, you didn’t care and neither did he. “I know, I just woke up and i was under a white sheet and then all these nurses just started fussing over me and then let me go home, I’m all healed up” he said, a smile gracing his face as he reached out for your hand. “I heard what you said” he mumbled, causing you to freeze and look down at your bare feet. 

“And I love you too” he added, taking a step forward and tilting your chin up, pressing his lips to your softly. The kiss only lasted a few seconds but you loved it. 

“Let’s go to bed, it’s been a long night” he breathed, his forehead leaning against you before he scooped you up into his arms bridal style and carried you through to the bedroom, you laughing all the way. He laid you down on the bed, stripping down and putting on a clean pair of boxers before slipping into bed with you and pulling you into his arms. “And y/n, if anyone even really breaks in, don’t use a pillow. I’ve got a spare gun in the drawer and remember to call me because I’ll always protect you” he said with a chuckle. 

He kissed you once again and just as you were dozing off, you heard him mumble. “Well i could really get used to this”. You only hummed contently in response, you were so in love with Jordan Parrish.

Look out for the number 702 in TLD/TFP!

I’ve been pondering on this meta for literally years now - but as I don’t want to be the only one screaming in case the number 702 might appear in any form in the next episodes, I’ll try to give you the last minute short version. - Which means, I’ll present you rather the clues and results without a lot of explanation.

So what I noticed is, that Moffat has a pattern of using the number 207/702 to mark the beginning and the end of a certain story arc, often in combination with a refrence to apples (sympol of temptation) . The story arcs are often about coming to terms with needs, desire, sexuality and how to make these work in relationships. 


Jekyll

Moffat first used this pattern in Jekyll.  At the end of the series, when Hyde gets more and more power over Tom, his wife Claire asks him, where they spent their honeymoon to be sure she’s dealing with Tom and not with Hyde. And he gives her the correct answer: They spent their honeymoon in The Appleyard in room 702. (This scene is near the end of the series, but the memory references the beginning of their relationship, so we have the full arc.)

Doctor Who -  The Story of Amy Pond

In The Beast Below (06x03, 2010) we follow Amy Pond and the Doctor travelling through time and space for the first time. This is Amy’s introduction into the Doctor’s world. A girl runs away and Amy asks, “Where’d she go?”, and the Doctor answers: “Deck 207, Apple Sesame block, dwelling 54A”

This episode also features a poem that reflects quite well the process that Moffats frames with the numbers 207/702. People have to enable their deepest desires and impulses to truly experience live/love/passion etc.  

A horse and a man, above, below
One has a plan, but both must go.
Mile after mile, above, beneath
One has a smile, and one has teeth.
Though the man above might say hello
Expect no love from the beast below.
In bed above, we’re deep asleep
While greater love lies further deep
This dream must end
This world must know
We all depend on the beast below.

Amy’s story arc ends with the episode The Angels Take Manhatten (07x05, 2012). There’s an (unnecessary) preface to this episode. And we get a specific shot of the room number 702. (It is not Rory’s room though, that’s 802 - but the 702 is explicitely shown to the audience ). The episode ends with Amy and Rory dying after a long, and implied happy and loving, marriage.

Sherlock

And finally, Sholto stays in room 207 in The Sign of Three, the episode where Sherlock deduces himself into love with John Watson. (And we have Appledore in HLV) This is the beginning of Sherlock’s journey of discovering and accepting his own emotions and desires and of learning how to be himself in a relationship (or rather marriage, as the couples in the other stories mentioned were married as well). 

So watch out for the 702!

702 is the signal for the end of this journey. Sherlock will be able to be true to himself and to his partner in a healthy relationship from there on. 

Mariana Trachea

My octopus tentacle intestines
               seem to be slithering
                           ever upwards.

Suction
cups
latch on to
esophagus,
                                creeping onward
                                       to reach the
                                       trachea,
so to pull
on a
bell-roped uvula.

What rings in my head now but nausea?

                     What chimes salvation
                                in desperate
                                hearts?

I chug hot oil,
straight from the deep fryer,
clogging my arteries; killing the beast.

                          Burning the hurt
                coincidentally.

- M.A. Tempels © 2017

6

why is it always the woman who has to see past the beast in the man? (x)

Cry for Help
Pg.4

JJ and Derek, after talking about personal school things,read up on a book that speaks about the start of beast who even were gods back then. But they turn to a few pages on other prehistoric beast and the last two pages they learn the biggest that lived wasn’t just one but…two, one was very hostile, while the other was passive but strangely the two have always fought. One human states he met one,a type of mammoth warrior,who saved his family from the very beast then in the deep forest disappeared… but always returned once the other came back to defend the humans from big threats. He was a hero to the early humans but after some years both him and the evil one disappeared never to be seen again. Soon after JJ hears someone talking but not to him..but someone else,his powers start to heat up and JJ quickly leaves confused on whats happening to him. As his body begins to glow extremely…

{Nightmares | Feyre & Rhys}

At first, this was going to be a smut, but I couldn’t bring myself to after Rhys started holding onto Feyre like he did and it broke my heart a little. I really hope you enjoy it, because it actually hurt a little to write. Let me know what you think please? I might continue this, but I’m not sure.




At first I thought it was my own darkness, stretching out in those wisping, daunting tendrils around my room. The way they caressed my skin was chilling, though, and I realised too late that it wasn’t the calming nature of my own darkness, but the breath of another’s. .They were too dark. Too powerful. My instincts told me more than my brain did, and I knew – I knew – the Fae to whom this terrifying mass belonged. It was a part of me, too.

My feet moved without my volition. I was racing in nothing more than a thin whisper of a nightgown down the hall, tears streaking my face as though it had been me in pain, not him. Perhaps I could feel his agony, his fear and his nightmares worming through my body. It felt like maggots writhing beneath my skin.

“Rhys… Rhys!” The door didn’t budge at first, and desperation and instinct and fear took over my body. The door was locked. I slammed my shoulder into the wood, ignoring the bark of pain shooting down my arm at the action, and I pushed out with all of my might. I needed to see him. I needed to be there for him – I needed him to know… to know he wasn’t alone.

I swore as the door shattered. Splinters of wood exploded around me. I didn’t care. I felt the warm stream of blood down my temple and wiped it away, leaving gruesome war-paint in my wake. War paint to fight for the dark prince of the Night Court.

My arms wrapped around him, careful to avoid those beautiful, ever-so-sensitive Illyrian wings, and pulled him close to me. “Rhysand, listen to my voice… Rhys…”

He shuddered beneath my touch.

“Rhys… It’s over. She’s gone, and she can’t get you. Rhys…”

“She killed you…” He breathed into the crook of my neck, and my grip around him tightened. He didn’t move; frozen by fear and pain and guilt and all those emotions I couldn’t shield him from no-matter how much I try to. “She killed you, Feyre… there was nothing-“ his voice broke, his whole body shook- “-I was too late…”

I had been angry for so long, angry and tired and hurting, knowing that my mortal life had been stripped from me and in its place I had been given this. How many times? How many times had I wished for death? To end my pain? I rocked him in my arms. My shoulder felt wet under his face, and I knew he was crying for what he couldn’t have done, for what he didn’t have the power to do.

I’m here, Rhys. I’m with you, I’m safe. I sent it in waves down the bond, through that sliver of a crack in his shield he left open for me and only me. I felt my darkness stretching out like a beast rising from a deep and ancient slumber, and I felt it caress him. Darkness soothing darkness.

“She killed you…” He said it like I was a phantom, and clutched at the fabrics of my nightgown so tightly, as though he feared I might vanish like smoke into the night. Like I was some twisted torment of his abused imagination. It hurt my heart.

I lifted his chin.

Those eyes so full of pain and anger and regret met mine and something icy melted within them. Tears streaked his beautiful face. “She killed me,” I said, matter-of-factly, and offered him a sad smile, “but you saved me. You.”

He nodded, and damn my heart if something painful didn’t twist in my chest at the sight of those gorgeous violet eyes seeking mine for the lie. His hands twisted in my nightgown, tightening their hold. I thought I’d lost you

Those five words tore through me. I pulled him close, holding him tighter than I’d ever held on to anything in my life. I felt a sob tear through me and I didn’t know whether it was mine or his and I didn’t care. I held him close. He was smoke on the wind and I was chasing the moon and we were holding on to one another for dear life.

I know. I know you did… His frame shuddered with another painful sob and I hushed him, my lips finding the bare skin of his shoulder and pressing a reassuring kiss there without thought. He stilled. You have me right here, Rhys. I’m not going anywhere.

Promise me, please…. just for tonight. Don’t leave me.

Again, I pried myself away from him. “I swear to you. I’m not leaving you.” I will never leave you, I added, though I wasn’t sure whether I had kept it safely locked away to myself or if I’d left those shields down for him to hear me lay my heart bare for him to break. A sob tore from his lips.

“Feyre…”

How awful, I thought, that it had taken me so long to realise how beautiful my name sounded on his tongue. I kissed him. A quick, gentle, caring peck on the lips that left my whole body aching in protest as I pulled away from him.

Those violet eyes widened in shock and Rhysand’s mouth dropped open. My chest stung painfully at the sight. “I… I’m sorry. I just meant it to…” what did you mean it to do, Feyre? “…I’m sorry. I’ll go if you wa-“

“No.”

He took my hand. “Don’t… Please, don’t… don’t apologise. Never. I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have reacted like that, I just… I wasn’t expecting you to do something like- I’m sorry, Feyre. Please, please, don’t go.”

“I won’t,” I told him, “but if you want to sleep, you should probably lie down.”

I glanced at him, kneeling in the centre of his bed as though a curse had tainted that perfect, beautiful, naked form and turned it to stone and… I glanced away, at the shattered door, and let out a breath of laughter. The shadows retreated, like the sound of my laugh had frightened it away and done more than any conscious action ever could. It pulsed, like something alive and anxious. Rhys’ brows furrowed. “Wh… what?”

Gently – oh, so gently – as though he had been crafted from glass, I cupped his chin and turned his head towards the shattered door. He sucked in a breath. “Did I do that?”

“No. I did…” Again, my nervous laughter sent the shadows reeling, and I looked at Rhys. Cauldron, he looked like he had seen the starlight for the first time in his life. I shrugged, feeling my cheeks tingle as heat rose to them. “I… I couldn’t get to you. You must have locked the door or… sorry, I’ll-”

“Never.” He spoke more firmly, and it was his turn to take my chin in his hands. My eyelids fluttered at the touch. “Never. Apologise.”

I nod dumbly.

“I… Feyre…”

“Yes…” I breathed, not caring what he’s going to ask me. He could tell me to bring him the sun on a daisy-chain tether and I didn’t care if it was impossible, I would try. I would try for him.

“Feyre, I-“ he paused, uncertain- “-I’m sorry. I don’t want you to hate me, I don’t think I could bear it if you hate me. I shouldn’t ask – I have no right to ask… I just… Cauldron, I want to kiss you.”

“Why haven’t you?”

His lips were soft and tender and oh-so gentle, as though he feared breaking some grand illusion he had conjured in all his torment. It was over in an instant. I groaned, feeling the cold air on my skin again. “Rhys… I’ll never leave you as long as my heart beats. I swear it on the Cauldron and on everything good in this world. I swear it, Rhys.”

I could see it in his expression. The way his mind screamed at him that he wasn’t worthy of love, of any kind of affection, of anything but pain for the things he did – the things he was forced to do – Under the Mountain. Something under it all made my breath catch in my throat, and I had to bite down on my tongue to stop myself saying those three fateful words that would mean there was no turning back from this. I didn’t want to wake up the next morning and see that he had spoken and felt out of fear and nothing more, so I bit my tongue until it stung painfully.

“Feyre…” he moved to kiss me again, and I pressed two fingers to his lips.

“Lie down, Rhys…” I whispered, my hand moving to caress his cheek and wipe away that trail of tears. “Lie down, and rest. If… if you still want this – want me – in the morning, then we can talk about this. I’ll stay with you. I’ll stay here all night… I swear, I’m not going to leave you.”

He nodded and pulled me down with him, curling against my back until I was painfully aware of the naked form against me. I could feel every part of his body from his legs tangling in mine to the arms wrapped around me and his warm, shallow breath against the back of my neck. I shuddered.

I’ll fight your demons every night, if you ask me to

Rae Spoon “Armour” Lyrics Meme

Armour

  • We feel it before we wake up.
  • You know every stone I placed was to build a life for you.
  • There’s no amount of damage that we can’t withstand. 
  • We are not made to be broken, even by our own hands.
  • But there’s no place we can begin.
  • On our bodies we wear armour.

I Hear Them Calling

  • I want to live like this all the time.
  • The beasts of wanting say “let me out”.
  • I could stay underground, but I want to sing.
  • Let’s take a chance and scream at the wind.

Written Across the Sky

  • There will be no miracles.
  • There’s nothing spiritual about holding our empty cups.
  • We’re hungry.
  • Our screams will split lightening and bring on the flood.
  • There is no glory in a forest of doubt.

Can’t Go Right

  • There is nothing left to mend.
  • Somethings happen you can’t take back.
  • Some things can’t go right again.
  • We are fighting a battle that no one can win.
  • I have told you over and over that I know who I am.
  • If you don’t believe me we are way past the last stand.

Wrestles With Death

  • I asked the stars to pull away time.
  • They said no, no, no.
  • I asked the sky to blow out my light.
  • I asked the sea to swallow me.
  • I wrote my way away the edge.

Stolen Song

  • I can see what made you so hungry to be someone new in the big city.
  • You can try it on, but you can take it off.
  • That’s why it doesn’t belong to you.
  • That’s what made me so hungry to stick up, to stand out.
  • I could try it on, but I could take it off.
  • That’s why it doesn’t belong to me.
  • It’s a stolen song.

The Beast is Me

  • Blue is the colour and the sound when I chase myself around.
  • I I can’t sit still and I can’t stay down.
  • When I hear them call from the deep, I know that the beast is me.
  • Orange is the sky in the morning when I wonder if I’ll ever sing again.
  • Gray is sound of the quiet.

Flood

  • You come out of nowhere and bring on the flood. 
  • I will swim for you if that’s what you want. 
  • What is between us if you aren’t out for blood? 
  • I will bleed for you if that’s what you want.
  • Sing for all that has been stolen. 
  • Bodies broken are still perfect.
  • Break the dam and make a new world.

Go for the Kill

  • It’s not enough to reach for a touch. 
  • You have become what you’re longing.
  • Where do you go when you’re wounded?
  • I live so you can chase me.

Try Again at Everything

  • I do not trust the ground, but I float above it when you’re around.
  • I will wear your grandmother’s ring and try again at everything.
  • We both want to stay free.
  • If it’s true to you then it’s true to me.
  • I would not have believed that I could find a family.
  • I failed life and it failed me.
  • I thought it was so out of reach.
4

”He has a family” Hannibal says as he instantly looks at himself

So basically Hannibal likes to reaffirm his status as Will’s family by totally denying or trying to erase Molly and Walter’s existence…

Sweet Summer Child, why do you breathe those sickly sweet fumes as though they’re oxygen for your starving lungs? Does the dark taste of rebellion soothe a mouth bloodied from biting your tongue? Or do the tendrils of smoke curling from your fangs like fingers grasping for freedom serve to remind you of the escape you so desperately crave?
—  barking-waffles-united (yours truly)
Her Hidden Child BBRae

Chapter 11: Shame

Upper Lamumba, Africa

Beast Boy’s emerald eyes fluttered open, the first thing that came to his attention was the incredible canopy of thick vegetation above him, the lush feeling of grass at his fingertips, and the smell and sounds of rushing water filling his ears. It took him a moment to register where he was. Looking around he saw his pod of the T-Ship docked in a clearing not far from where he was laying now. Once he got there he leapt from his pod heading to the nearest tree and passed out, both from the long flight, and the overwhelming feelings that came with it.

Beast Boy got into a seated position, his sharp ears hearing clearly the various animal noises that sounded around him, and if he payed enough attention, he could pick out what they were saying to each other. The wind whistled through the trees, adding to the piece and tranquility the African continent had to provide, but Beast Boy wasn’t here to enjoy it, he had something he NEEDED to do.

Slowly, reluctantly, saddly, he got to his feet, leaving the comfort of his tree, shoved his hands into his pockets and followed the sounds of rushing water. As the forest thinned, Beast Boy was met with the sight of a crystal clear river, ending at a roaring waterfall, the sound almost deafening to the changeling. Beast Boy stood there, unmoving, his eyes not unable to tear themselves away from the vision before him. Ten mintues became and hour, an hour became two, and still he hadn’t looked away.

On the third hour Beast Boy took a deep breath, his hand pulling something from his pockets. He walked over to the cliffs edge looking down at the torrent of water that thundered below him. His hand brought the photograph of himself and his parents to his face, a stray tear dripping onto the picture, which had happened a few times before giving the photograph a worn and crinkled look. He took a seat at the cliffs edge, letting his legs dangle over the side.

“Hey mom, hey dad,” he said outloud to no one in particular, “sorry I haven’t been by to see you guys in, uh, ever, heh. Um, let’s see, well there’s a lot going on with me. I guess I’ll start with, um, I have a daughter. Her name is Farah, she’s four years old, she has blonde hair, like I used to have, she has adorable pointy ears, and the most beautiful purpley eyes I have ever seen in my life. Well, she’s tied for first.”

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Obligations.

Little giggles and happy splashes filled Centori’s ears. She looked up from her book to see Kari holding Dyv above the water, the little boy grinning like a fool. He looked so much like his father at that moment; A perfect little mirror with hair the color of the night sky.

This was what life could be like, she thought. This is what it should be like. No war, no leaving their young son for others to take care, no risking their lives everyday. So many thoughts filled her head at once that she winced.

The laughter of her two loves was like a salve for her troubled mind. For now, she would enjoy what was in front of her. The book was forgotten as she pulled herself up from the warm sand but something caught her attention out of the corner of her eye.

A rider. A blur in the hot sands of Tanaris. She knew camels could move but watching the mount in question gallop toward her, was mesmerizing. Kari seemed to have noticed as well, the splashing coming to a halt. They exchanged troubled looks before Centori moved to meet the pair.

A figure wrapped in loose fitting clothing deftly moved from the gangly beast toward her, brandishing a roll of parchment. “Ambassador?” A question they already seemed to know the answer to.

Centori closed her eyes for a brief moment before any response was given. Only a few people knew where they were, and strict instructions were given about being interrupted. “Yes, why are you here?”

The androgynous figure bowed lowed. “My apologies, Ambassador. I was to find you immediately. An urgent message from the Unseen Path.”

She looked from the courier to the proffered piece of paper, the seal blazing like a beacon in the midday sun. “Very well. Thank you.”  

The courier unfurled themselves from the deep bow and returned to the waiting beast. Centori already knew the gist of the letter. A way to Argus had been found, and now they were being called to siege the emerald planet.

Centori met Kari’s eyes. He knew too. Vacation was over. War was upon them once more.

[ @karidakdellanir ]

A birthday gift request done for my good friend Melissa aka FanofBellaandEdward over at ff.net. Her request? A prequel to my first fem-Harry drarry story, Little Red called the Big Bad Wolf. Split into 3-4 parts, it tells the story of how Little Red and the Bad Wolf came to be. 

Awesome edits & coloring done by my talented friend, Sammie aka @dreamydrarry

*****

Big Bad Wolf

There was once a time he loathed the color red.

The color wasn’t like pale, ice-blue which reminded him of his mother’s eyes that only softened when they landed on him, shedding their usual frosty exterior. It wasn’t like gold or silver, representation of power and security that once dripped from his fingertips. It wasn’t like green, beauty and mystery wrapped into one.

Red was too loud, too obnoxious. The horrible stench of counts and lords that flooded his family’s ballroom like cockroaches, excessive bourbon coloring their faces, heightening their laughter, clinging onto their clothes. The hollow warmth of women’s flushed complexions as they fluttered around him like peacocks, all beauty, no taste. Latching onto his arms for another dance, another drink, another kiss if he’d be so bold. The color of hard liquor always pouring into his father’s never-ending cup.

Before red was such a distasteful color. It soon became his best friend after that horrible night.

A man in black, skin frail and papery as a corpse, eyes the two beams of hellfire, power that matched those of legend, came for all their heads. Laughing morphed into screaming, dancing and flirting soon turned to running and falling as waves upon waves of broken glass-the chandeliers, the walls and mirrors-all exploded in a storm of crystal shards.

In the midst of the chaos, as he ran over to protect his mother, he was changed. Hands to sharp claws, skin to white fur, his mind a scattered mess of hunting and killing.

“Consider this payment,” the man purred. “Your betrayal for your son’s eternal misery.”

His father, his power-hungry, ambitious father sank to his knees in horror. His hand reached to him as if he could find a shred of humanity in him. And ended up having his entire arm ripped clean off.

It was the first time he spilled blood. The first time he learned to admire the color, pouring from the wound like a sea of crimson. It wasn’t loud. It wasn’t obnoxious. It wasn’t disgusting.

It was beautiful. It was mesmerizing. It was glorious.

Too blinded by the pain ripping through him, his father used the other to hold himself. Shock, fear, and the faintest trace of disgust shone in his eyes. “Dra-”

He pounced.

His father, the roaches, the peacocks-all slaughtered limb by limb, skin slashed and slit, dripping right red.

And he wanted more. More tearing, more ripping, more spilled red. An ocean of it.

The voice of reason was silenced as his appreciation for the thrill grew; the minds of man and animal converging as one.

He became the animal others of his kind immediately ran from, sensing the madness that wrapped around his body like a cloak. The creature fools with their bows and arrows closed in on when they think they have him vulnerable and cornered, only for the predators to become his prey. The beast that traveled from town to town, village to village, spreading deep, flinching fear into the hearts of the townspeople with tales of his sharp teeth and the innumerable body count he left in his wake.

Man, woman, all the same to him. All fools that strayed too far from the safe path. Who chose the wrong time to venture out into the woods during the nights the full was moon and called to him like a siren song. Whose pleas, prayers, cries all fell to deaf ears until skin became pink, pink became red, and red coated the snowy ground.

for more, click on link: ff.net

feujenny  asked:

YES! Congrats on the 500 goal, it's so deserved! This blog is one of my favourites, I love your scenarios! Since we are in summer, here's a summer-themed scenario request: the GoM + Kagami's favourite activity to do at the beach with their s/o? :3 Thank you, you rock! I hope you are enjoying your summer, too! :D

Thank you so much!! I still can’t believe the amount of support I get from you guys <3 Enjoy, and as always, yes I did get a little carried away. (especially on kuroko’s, no thanks to the random guest appearance brought to you by the gom)


Kuroko - “____-san, could you maybe go find some nice rocks for decoration instead?” Kuroko says upon watching you accidentally knock over the sandcastle for the 3rd time. Kuroko does not mess around when it comes to building castles. He can get them up quite high, although he acts nonchalant about his skill. You stand up and give him a fake pout. “You don’t need my help building anymore?” His gaze is sadly fixed to the mountain of sand that was once an almost finished masterpiece. “You can help in other ways too,” he responds. “We need a flag for our castle after all”. You grin and head out for the shore on a hunt for pretty rocks and shells.

You call out to Kuroko, holding a beautiful seashell high above your head. “How’s this one?” Kuroko gives you a thumbs up from afar, then motions to his nearly finished castle. “Looks great!” you yell, hauling your bucket of decorations back to him. The next couple of minutes are spent sticking on the accessories, where Kuroko carefully keeps his eye on you. He lets you put the final touch on the highest point of the castle, standing back to quickly snap a photo of you.

“Perfect,” he says, beaming at his and your hard work. Just as he was about to take another picture, a basketball comes crashing, cleanly knocking off the top half of the sandcastle. You both stare wide eyed at the destruction, when you hear a familiar voice drawing closer.

“Aominecchi, what kind of pass was that?” the voice whined. You turn to see Kise and Aomine jogging lightly towards you. “It was your idea to play ‘beach basketball’,” he retorts. They both notice the two of you. “Oh, it’s you Tetsu”. He looks down at the former castle. “Sandcastles huh?”

Kise apologizes, seeing how Aomine definitely wasn’t going to. “We’ll help you rebuild it though!” he assures. Aomine clicks his tongue. “It wasn’t any good anyway,” he mutters. Kuroko takes this insult to heart. “Try and build a better one on your own then”. Aomine rolls his eyes, but wasn’t about to back down from a challenge. Kise quickly joins him on the sand, making his own a few paces beside him. “I”m not losing to either of you today!”

Kise calls over the rest of the Generation of Miracles from the court, who look down confusedly at the competition.

“The only one who can beat my sandcastle is me,”

“Aominecchi, you can’t touch other people’s sandcastles, that’s cheating!”

Kuroko motions to the other three to join in. “If you think you can beat me and _____’s castle,” Midorima scoffs, tilting his glasses upwards. “It was foolish to challenge me,” he says kneeling down. Akashi rolls up his sleeves. “I’ll beat everyone here, I promise”. Murasakibara sighs, taking his place beside Akashi. “Ok, I’m on Aka-chin’s team though,” he says with no intention of helping.

Kuroko wasn’t sure when his beach date turned into an all-out sandcastle building brawl between the Generation of Miracles, but he knew that Team Kuroko and _____ were going to win.

Midorima - You squealed with joy on the inside when Midorima invited you to the beach. He was never, ever the one to suggest places for dates, so you were particularly excited about this one. The thought that maybe he just wanted to see you in a bathing suit crossed your mind, which excited you even more. When Midorima came to pick you up, you couldn’t help but giggle in seeing him with his swim trunks on.

“I didn’t know you liked the beach so much, Shin-chan!” He nods affirmatively. Your mind was filled with fun ideas you could do for the entire day. “Want to go swimming? And then get ice cream? Or bury each other in the sand? I’ve always wanted to do that…” you continued to list every activity there was, until Midorima quietly shared his own. “We can collect seashells too,” The biggest grin breaks out across your face. It was such a Midorima thing to do.

Upon arriving at the beach, you run over to the shoreline, having your boyfriend follow behind you. You didn’t think collecting rocks and seashells would be the most fun, but you could tell how much Midorima was enjoying himself. It was usually hard to tell whether or not he was actually having fun on the dates that you would pick out, so you embraced every bit of the small smile that was stuck on his face when looking through the sand. Just as the sun was setting, you find a perfectly shaped green spiral seashell, which you present to him as a gift. A blush sweeps over his face, graciously taking the gift. After a successful day of hunting, Midorima stood up, brushing the sand from his legs.

“If you want,” he said, turning his blushed face away from you. “I can go bury you in the sand now”. This time, you audibly squeal with delight, throwing your arms around him.

Akashi - You and Akashi sat by the water, letting the gentle waves surround you. In the sand, Akashi spells out your name in fancy cursive, punctuating it with a small heart before the water washes it away. The beach was private property owned by his family, so it was just the two of you, alone for miles. He turns to his side to face you, gently cupping your face in his hands as he leans in for a deep kiss, forgetting the world around him. Before there was you, the beach was a place for Akashi to reflect alone. The atmosphere was perfect for it, but there always used to be a foreboding sense of loneliness. That sense was put to rest, as he now had you to share the view with him. Akashi stands up and offers you his hand. Together, you walk down the shore leaving nothing but footprints in the sand.

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