because her smile has saved his life more times than he can tell

what's a fire and how does it - what's the word? - burn

so i have this disney playlist i listen to usually when i’m driving and i was blasting poor unfortunate souls this morning and i was thinking

what if ariel didn’t sign the scroll?

because she’s about to, okay, and she looks at the paper. the parchment made of seaweed, the ones that’s specially treated to survive underwater. and she thinks of her cave of treasures, her books that remain perfectly preserved underwater. “no thank you,” she says slowly, becoming keenly aware of air of this place, of the not-people she’d seen who hadn’t been able to pay the price for sea witch’s bargain. “i – no. thank you. but no.”

ursula tries to convince her otherwise, but ariel runs. she goes back to her cave, destroyed as it was by her father’s anger, and thinks.

she’s the daughter of triton. her books never got wet, though she lives in the ocean. she feels a pull inside her, to the land, to somewhere else, but what if – what if –

what if she doesn’t need the sea witch or her father to perform magic for her? what if she has her own?

ursula had wanted her voice because that’s how she performed her magic. singing in this cave had given it powers and protection, and when she saved her prince from the sea – she sang then too, to keep him safe, to guide him back to life and away from death.

so she has magic. she only needs to figure out how to use it.

so that’s what ariel does now. she’s quiet and keeps to herself, and her father and sisters think that it’s because she’s upset with her father, that she’s busy licking her wounds. she’s moved on from that. she has no trident, and is uninterested with fueling her magic with the souls of the damned like ursula has. so she needs to figure something else out.

she does what she’s not supposed to do, and goes where she’s not supposed to go, slipping past the guards and patrols to the one place in the sea that is forbidden to all of them.

the crevice in the earth where what remains of her grandmother lives.

ariel goes to amphitrite, and the sea goddess is so much bigger than ariel, the size of great whale as she curls at the bottom of the sea floor, too old and too tired to do anything more than sleep. “granddaughter,” the great being croaks, opening an eye as blue and as unfathomable as the sea, “you look like me.”

“they say i look like my mother,” she says, and to herself adds: that’s why father can barely stand to look at me.

“you have more of me in you than your mother,” she says, and she shifts and pulls her mass of red hair over her shoulder. “more of me in you than your father does, even.”

“i have magic,” she says, pulling her bravery to the fore as she swims closer to her grandmother, “i want you to teach me how to use it.” amphitrite pushes herself up, and it’s the first time she’s moved in a millennia, and ariel notices for the first time that her grandmother isn’t a mermaid – she has legs.

she has legs.

“you have power,” amphitrite corrects fiercely, “and i will teach you to wield it.”

and so she does. ariel spends her nights by her grandmother, learning to harness the power of the sea that runs in her veins, and sleeps her days away while her sisters and flounder and sebastian grow more and more concerned, but she refuses to tell them why. she refuses to be stopped.

but her heart still aches. she fell in love with her prince, and she wants him still. so she swims to the edge, goes to the beach where his castle resides in the dead of night when her lessons with her grandmother are complete, and sings

. she’s careful not to let any magic leak through, only her voice. she does not want to enchant him. she wants him to love her as she is. so she sings, her voice clear and powerful and cutting through the air. she hopes he can hear it.

then one day a figure walks to the beach, and it’s him, her prince. “hello?” he calls out, “are you out there? are you – please, it was you that saved me, wasn’t it? won’t you come out and let me see you?”

so she does, waves her tail at him until he catches sight of her and takes hesitant, disbelieving steps closer.

“you’re a mermaid,” he says, eyes wide, “i thought i saw – but it couldn’t be.”

“i am, and it can,” she says, heart beating wildly in her chest. he’s just as handsome as she remembered, and she wants him just as much. “my name is ariel.”

“ariel,” he repeats, and pulls off his boots and goes wading into the water, watching her to see if she flinches away from him. she doesn’t, and his strides grow bolder. “my name is eric.”

“eric,” she whispers, and when he’s close enough he touches her, trailing fingers across the bare skin of her shoulder and tangling them in her hair.

when he kisses her, she feels powerful enough to undo the world.

so there’s that now, spending her nights with her grandmother and her prince, and she knows how to make her own legs now, could walk onto land and be made a queen among the two legged men.

but she’s a princess here first, and before she can do that she needs to take care of something.

ursula.

the rotten sea witch with her rotten sea magic won’t be allowed to torment her people any longer.

she tells her grandmother, and amphitrite smiles and says, “an excellent decision, child. i’ve enjoyed our time together, but i think it’s time for me to sleep once more. i’ve taught you everything i can.”

and tears prick ariel’s eyes, but she holds them back. she knew that it couldn’t be forever, that her grandmother can’t die but no longer desires to live and this is the in-between.

“you’ll be an amazing queen,” amphitrite murmurs, and closes her eyes for a millennia more.

this isn’t something to be done in the dead of night, although it would be easier to do it then.

she will make a spectacle of it, she will remind the sea that her people are not to be trifled with.

once upon a time they feared a blue eyed, red haired sea queen with the power to destroy them all. it’s time for them to do so again.

so she drives ursula to the center of the city. her sisters cower and people hide, and her father comes rushing forward to save her.

“you’ve committed great crimes against my people,” she says, not flinching as lightning gathers in the sea witch’s hands, “so now shall a great crime be committed against you.”

“foolish girl,” the sea witch snarls.

triton is yelling. he won’t get there in time.

he doesn’t have to.

she doesn’t need to sing anymore. instead she lifts her hands and pulls ursula apart without ever touching her, not only renders flesh from bone but also sets free the souls she’s been hoarding, reverses the magic done to those who’d fallen into the sea witch’s trap.

they all stare at her, her people, her father, and her sisters. she looks to triton and says, “i’m not a little girl anymore.”

he opens his mouth, closes it again, then says, “i can see that.”

all at once everyone’s perceptions are turned sideways about their youngest princess. she commands a power that even her father doesn’t have access to, she’s not depressed and dreamy – she’s powerful young woman who knows exactly what she’s doing.

so she does what she wanted to do, she gives herself legs and steps onto the sand and launches herself into eric’s arms. she becomes his bride, and the rumors run rampant of what she is, of where she came from, but they can’t prove anything and so they rule.

they live long, happy lives. ariel is his consort, his advisor, his wife, his tactician, and his best friend. all those years reading drowned books have certainly paid off. she ages herself along with her husband, bears his children and then teaches them they ways of her – their – people.

her husband dies, and she disappears, like the stories of selkie women that everyone whispers around her. their children give their father a sea burial, and vow to see him again one day. what they know and none of their subjects do is this – their father’s body isn’t in that casket.

she returns to her ocean, her legs form into her glittering green tail, and she goes home. she uses her terribly powerful magic, and brings her husband with her. she went from princess ariel of the sea to queen ariel of the land, and now she’s back again.

she’s not quite a teenager, but neither is she the old woman she pretended to be on land. she’s returned her and her husband to the prime of their life, and as she gained legs to be with him, he now gives his up to be with her.

eric becomes a merman, and a prince by virtue of being ariel’s husband.

she returns to her family and her world without missing a beat, and they all welcome her as if she never left, treat her husband with kindness and respect.

because they all know.

it doesn’t matter that she’s the youngest. when, far in the future, triton’s reign ends –

ariel’s reign will begin.

100 Prompts That Will Make You Cry: Part 1

Unfortunately, my amigos, we managed to come up with 100 prompts. Here’s part 1:

  1. You’re a ghost haunting your own funeral. You see that nobody showed up.
  2. What are these strangers doing in your house? You’re confused and angry, it’s been a week and it seems like they’re not leaving, they’re not even paying attention to you. You’re the ghost haunting your house without knowing it.
  3. A single man and dog run the Iditarod only to show up with the medicine for his daughter too late. This is his story.
  4. You fight for a noble cause. You complete all the necessary steps. You reach the top of the world doing good deeds to improve peoples lives. It’s your first day of retirement and you watch your hard work comes undone before your eyes.
  5. “You can’t understand how it is to feel this worthless. I just want it all to go away! I want it all to STOP!”
  6. Despite everything they did, everything they went through. It was made clear that their attempts were pointless, as they were too late to save them.
  7. The only thing left for you to do was to leave forever
  8. You didn’t visit your parent figure in hospital the day before they passed away because you wanted to finish your homework. Less than 24 hours later, you get a message from your sibling. “They passed away this morning.”
  9. No matter how hard you try, they just laugh at you. You are a joke, a game, you don’t matter. You’ve had enough.
  10. “Robert, you can’t just leave! There are fifty kids waiting for you! You promised you’d get us out alive. You told them so!” “No, darling, I promised I’d get us out alive. Us, being me and my 500 grand. Thanks for your help, by the way. Sorry about the boiled alive thing. Chao!”
  11. Why did you leave me? It’s been 15 years. Why did you leave? I can’t just accept the fact that you showed up on my doorstep expecting an apology. I have a family now. And I can’t let you pull me into your problems.
  12. Your school, company, or organisation has required you to go to therapy for a potentially traumatic incident. This is the session when you decide to tell the story of becoming estranged from your last living relative.
  13. You can only watch the live news helplessly as, thousands of miles away, an tsunami happens in the country your best friend happens to be visiting
  14. “My head is full of you but my arms are empty.”
  15. Best Friends Forever", we used to say. But now we aren’t even talking anymore. When I see them anywhere, another person is by their side, a new best friend. And I, I am all alone.
  16. Person A shares something that no one knew about them and it is very personal and then they get outcasted by their family and person B is the only one to support them as they cry.
  17. The fire was pretty, swirling in shades of blue and green and purple, if you could ignore the fact it was destroying the planet.
  18. A crying child in the hospital bed looks to you for answers. She wants to know where her mommy is. You have no answer.
  19. “I cannot take it anymore, Sam. You don’t tell me anything, you’ve been disappearing for hours, you have phone calls you don’t want me to hear, and now you forgot our anniversary. I’m done being patient. I have packed my things, you can keep the car and the house. Goodbye.” A small box fell out of his fingers, and a ring with a diamond shining merrily on the band rolled away, as the phone stopped playing out the voicemail.
  20. You unlock your phone, and, ignoring the shaking of your hand, answer the call. “Hey” you say, not even trying to compress the wound, too far gone as you already are, “no, i’m fine. I’ll be with you in a minute or two…”
  21. I knew it would be there, I saved for this special occasion. It was my deserved reward after a shitty day and it was gone. The cupcake was gone.
  22. it was finally summer, his favorite season. He sat up in his bed and told you all about what he did last year. He rode his bike everywhere, he played so many games with his friends, he swam in the town park pool… you were the doctor, and you had come in to bring his parents out of the room to talk to them about how the cancer had spread unexpectedly.
  23. You’ve just had an unpleasant lunch with your family and one of your siblings has just told you that you’ve been horrible the entire meal. What now?
  24. Your mom starts crying
  25. you walk down the street and you see a familiar face. Your heart starts beating faster and you speed up, because Gosh, you haven’t seen them in the longest time, but then as you are about to reach them and scream their name, you suddenly stop because remember that it can’t be them because you’re now on the other side of the world, and you left the person you love far away….
  26. It’s your grandfather’ funeral. The place is packed, he was loved by so many. Then, a small child puts a cup of coffee by his ashes.. (“Have this grandpa, it’s time to wake up”)
  27. The person you love has to be killed in order to save other people. Their death guarantees the others’ safety and it is the right thing to do, and they want to do it, but you have to kill them. So you do.
  28. you have the power to bring back the dead. You quickly realize that this comes with draw-backs since certain parts of them stay dead. someone close to you had an accident and this is the most difficult decision of your life.
  29. the smallest coffins are the heaviest.
  30. Her answer is to gently cup your face with trembling hands. Her smile is gentle and so, so sad. Her breathy whisper reaches your ears, “because love is watching someone die,” and shatters your world.
  31. It had always been her. From the first day you saw her, you knew that she was the one, the one you wanted to spend your entire life with. Day by day, that future became a little more solid, a little more opaque. Until you watched it shrivel, collapse and die when strangers pulled a frail, familiar body out of the wreck.
  32. you wake up to silence, except for the sound of quiet sobbing and a set of packed suitcases in the hall.
  33. “I’m going to… take a nap… just for a minute. I’ll be… right back.” He lies down just where he sat. “Could you… hold my hand?”, he asks of her. She moves carefully around the table, as not to disrupt the game that they will certainly continue. He rests his head on her knees. “Are you there?”, he asks. “Yes, I’m here.” He holds her hand tighter. “Are you there?”, he asks, slowly his voice getting quieter and weaker….
  34. You and your family were in a car crash. You think you’ve survived but in the hospital you found you’ve died and you watch your parents, your SO, your children and your friends mourn. You don’t leave earth. You remain there watching over your loved ones, but when they die, they don’t join you. You are by yourself forever.
  35. Driving home, you hit something. Getting out, you realize it’s your pet who went missing a few months ago
  36. Using the word ‘almost’ is the most melancholic way to describe an upsetting moment. She almost got there in time. He almost caught her. She almost told her. They almost made it.
  37. You realise animals no longer acknowledge your existence. They can’t seem to see or hear you. Your best friend is your dog.
  38. “I’ll never be perfect in my parents’ eyes no matter what I do.”
  39. When you were 7, you were kidnapped when for 15 years. At the age of 22, you are finally rescued. Write about your time held in captivity and what it was like when you were saved.
  40. Time and time again, the prompt guy refuses my Danny DeVito suggestions
  41. “You’re the worst teacher I ever had, but I don’t want you to leave, because you were also the best, in a way.”
  42. after always feeling like you were never wanted around, someone decided to tell you how you felt is exactly right. and now you have a fire in your heart you’ve decided to do something about it.
  43. He was supposed to protect me. Instead he became the one I needed protection from.
  44. “We’ll be finally be able to be together. Just one more year. Then we can finally be happy.” That was the last thing you said to your lover before going back off to war. Now you find yourself in an empty house, holding one last letter addressed to you and the memories of a lifetime of unfulfilled promises.
  45. I’m not sure which was worse: keeping it a secret for so many years, or the look on my mom’s face when I told her.
  46. you moved in a new town a few months ago. One of your friend tells you that he heard your best friend say “There’s no point staying in touch, we won’t see each other ever again.”
  47. “I’m sorry sir, but we’re all out of chicken nuggets.”
  48. You are a stray dog. Your master lost you 3 years ago. You go on an epic and heart-filled journey to find your master, not knowing that they are already dead.
  49. It was the first time your parents said the word proud in relation to you, but you could just feel that was nothing more than a backhanded compliment. It only made you feel terrible.
  50. After five years, they were finally back together. But time had torn them apart and as much as they tried, they were unable to love each other again.
  51. The dark and dreary realisation finally hit you: You’re the one in the coffin. This is your funeral. All these people are upset and crying over you.
  52. The war had been ravaging the country for years. You fought for your country, you shed your blood, you did your part. And yet a mistake is going to be your undoing. Write your last letter before your execution to a daughter you will never come back to.
  53. Your siblings played a game with you, it was called “Who can ignore you the most”. But it’s okay, you knew they love you, because there was still food on the table, and bedtime was still shared in the same room. It’s been years, you’re in the worst time of your life now, and you feel the need to reach out for help. You hope the game is over by now.
  54. You’ve been messaging someone online for years now, chatting with them about this and that every so often. They stopped logging on a month ago. You have no way of knowing if they’re okay, and can only watch and wait for a reply.
  55. You read a late familiar’s diary from decades ago. You knew nothing about them before this moment.Their insight in life is what you need to solve your problems, and your insight could have helped save their life.
  56. “I am so tired.” She whispered to him, inches away from jumping of that bridge.
  57. Every time your father leaves for work, you wonder if he’s going to die. You make sure to say “i love you” every day before he goes, but one day you forget…
  58. you’re the last member of your species, your culture, your language. Scientists are around you, waiting for every bit that you can share, for them to document. They don’t care about you. Although you’re surrounded by people, you’re alone.
  59. your idol, a vegetarian, was forcefully fed a hotdog
  60. Write about the small and big sacrifices mothers make for their children.
  61. You are trapped in a “coma” can hear everything around you, including friends and family coming to say goodbye before your life-support is taken away due to lack of insurance. They can’t prove you aren’t brain dead. You can’t say goodbye back.
  62. “The monsters won’t come and hurt me will they daddy?” “As long as I’m around,” he said, giving you a goodnight kiss. “No one will ever hurt you.” “You’ll come home right? Promise?” “I Promise.” But he failed to keep his promise. He never came home and the monsters got you after all.
  63. Tell the story of someone who goes about daily life, well, tries to anyway. It’s hard for them because they had severe depression. Tell of their struggles and trials. But also tell of their successes.
  64. For Sale: Baby Shoes. Never worn.
  65. you’re the last person in the world and you just lost hope for finding anyone else
  66. You went on a great quest with your friends. You slayed monsters together, fended off enemies, and overcame all challenges that came your way. However, your friends perished at the final boss. You’ve just defeated him, and the reality is sinking in.
  67. You are the new Death. The torch has been passed down to you for reasons you don’t know. It is now your job to take the lives of those whose time is up, old or young. Are you prepared to do it? And why were you chosen?
  68. You have become immortal through a game that destroyed your universe. You and and your friends recreated the universe. You remember, they do not. The big bad from the game haunts your dreams.
  69. You wake up and smell something burning. You think someone is making breakfast. You get up to see your house is on fire and you’re the only survivor.
  70. As the crowd around you cheers for your brother’s assassin, you hold him in your arms as you watch his life fade. He was the most hated man in the world, a brutal dictator, a tyrant worse than your father ever was. He was the very kind of man who you hated yourself. Yet you’re crying, looking down upon his smiling face as he watches the crowd and his killer in his final moments, because in the end this was what he promised you. He promised to make a world where no one would have to fight anymore, where there can be peace. And now that the most hated man is dead, there can be.
  71. After a long fulfilling life, you find yourself in the past, at the lowest point of your life. Your family is gone, your friends don’t know who you are, and you’re left with nothing. What do you do?
  72. there’s no pizza in the fridge
  73. You love children and plan to have some one day, until you find out at a doctors appointment that you are infertile…
  74. It’s the effort that counts but it’s the result that’s remembered. Write a story about someone who spent years devoted to their passion but their efforts remain unrecognised, unappreciated because they were ultimately unsuccessful, even after death.
  75. “…you never really loved me, did you.” and the silence said it all
  76. you are a dog going into the vet. You have no idea why your owner is crying. You have no idea that it’s your last visit.
  77. Your parents just told you that they’re getting a divorce.
  78. Your best friend/SO has wronged the gods and has 24 hours to live. You can trade your life for theirs by putting your essence by the mercy of the gods. What do you do?
  79. he spat angrily as he raised what remained of his son “I NEVER LOVED YOU”
  80. write a story where you build up to one character’s death. In the end, that character survives, but another character dies instead.
  81. You are a time traveler, but you never knew it. The only time you successfully did it was when you were a baby, and you’ve grown up a long time away from your original life. One day, you find a shrine… Dedicated to you, by your original family.
  82. You sat across from them at the table, and realized that you had both run out of things to say to each other.
  83. Write a story about an adventurous character who somehow survives all the trouble they get into. These are the memories of an old person, as they remember what they did, with a week of less left before their last breath.
  84. Everyone else had moved on further. You have missed your opportunity to move along with them, and you are the only one left behind in the gray lands. All because of your most annoying habit
  85. “But I rescued you from-” “You killed the dragon! You killed my best friend!”
  86. When you were little, you lost your parents in a house fire. Now, you’ve found out that you have the power to control fire, and are starting to suspect that the fire that killed your parents wasn’t a cooking accident after all..
  87. You spent the past 10 minutes walking back and forth from the lobby to the dance floor in search of them, worrying your ass off. They finally decide to come out and they curse at you for ruining their night.
  88. It was horrible, a pain unbearable to you, the feeling of your soulmate breaking down. The person you once loved, now shattered and scarred from trauma. The worst of part of it, you were helpless. All you could do was sit and watch, but you’d get your revenge. On Death himself.
  89. Your maths teacher gives you a school detention despite the fact that you are 110% innocent of everything you’ve been accused of.   You are forced to stare at a wall for half an hour in silence to think about ‘what you’ve done.’  What happens now?
  90. You confess to your parents about your depression and suicidal thoughts, but they just shrug it off as you being over dramatic. Months later and the sight of your parents still hurts you deep inside, because they never understood you.
  91. You’re in love with your coworker, who’s married and has two kids. He’s quitting job today. He tells you that he loves you.
  92. You’re in a room full of onions.
  93. You’re just about to start your period and you’ve been craving Chinese food all week. You finally get said Chinese food, get home, pull it out of the bag and drop it. You start scream-crying, and your family runs into the room to check on you. What happens next?
  94. Your daughter has been bullied ever since she’s started school due to the fact that you aren’t the richest of families in a pretty nice neighborhood. When she begs you to buy her a doll everybody likes, you know you won’t be able to afford it.
  95. You hide in your room and clutch a pillow, listening to the abusive language your family members through at each other. You hear your youngest sibling being physically abused again, and his screams echo throughout the house.
  96. “We found cancerous tissue. I’m sorry.” “What a way to start my first day of college.” (comment: this actually happened to me, I was diagnosed with cancer my first day of college)
  97. An old man is on his death bed, riddled with dementia.  Volunteering for the elderly with no family left, you visit, but he mistakes you for son or daughter.
  98. I looked in the mirror and realized who was staring back. It was someone I wasn’t content with.
  99. Write a story through the perspective of an abused cat on their 9th life.
  100. Tell a story about a person who never appears in photographs because they were always behind the camera, looking wistfully at everyone’s smiling faces. It is only after they’re long gone that someone finally notices. Old memories are brought up.
Beauty and the Beast is the Hobbit

really though. it’s kind of bizarre

We begin with a prologue. A male narrator tells us the story of a secluded kingdom/palace that fell into decay..

The narrator then tells us how his kingdom/palace fell into ruin. The ruler of the kingdom/palace became selfish and heartless, obsessed with one of the “seven deadly sins”: (vanity or greed).

Their selfishness drew a powerful evil magic (an enchantress or a dragon.)

It also drew a curse. The enchantress caused the Prince to turn into a beast. There’s a similar concept in the Hobbit. The gold   in Erebor causes the people who obsess over it to get “dragon sickness”– a sort of curse which turns them into gold-obsessed  “dragons” (beasts on the inside )….

After this dark prologue, we transition to a beautiful sunny provincial town. It’s a lovely place, but every day is the same as the day before. These hobbits/ townspeople are fussy and simpleminded. They care a lot about tradition and being “respectable.” They deeply mistrust anything new, exciting, or unfamiliar…..

We meet our second hero- a naiive and very bookish person whose name starts with a B. They can have a snarky sense of humor. They “don’t take anyone’s shit” and are far stronger than they look. They can be proud, even a little arrogant at times, but they’re very soft-hearted. They are a “pure cinammon roll.”

This person’s greatest, defining strength is their compassion. They can see the good in everyone, even in creatures who look like monsters (Belle falls in love with the Beast; Bilbo takes pity even on Gollum)

They also have a parent known for being crazy/unconventional– Belle has her father Maurice, Bilbo has his mother Belladonna Took.

Both the protagonists are different from the other simple farmer-villagers because they want more than just a simple  life.

They long for adventure….

And they’re eventually dragged into an adventure, against their will.

Our protagonist is forced to meet the The Dwarf-King/the Beast-Prince. This person is brooding, intimidating, and glowering. He rarely smiles. He has a dramatic cloak and an uncontrollable temper. He has a Tragic Past, a bizarre troop of followers, and (secretly) a good heart. 

Deep in this King/Prince’s castle is his special glowing Secret Artifact you really shouldn’t touch (Seriously don’t he will FREAK OUT). The reason why the King/Prince needs the protagonist has something to do with this enchanted artifact….


The protagonist makes an agreement to stay with the King/Prince (Belle makes a promise, Bilbo signs a contract.)

They get to know the Prince/King and his more approachable but still very weird group of followers. When the King/Prince isn’t there,  these followers sing an upbeat song to the protagonist as they expertly prepare/clean up after dinner (Be our Guest and That’s What Bilbo Baggins Hates.) Their song is so upbeat you forget they’re singing it to a captive audience.

Meanwhile, the relationship between the Prince/Dwarf-king and the protagonist gets off to a very rocky start. The Prince/King secretly cares about the protagonist (later risking his life multiple times for them) but refuses to show it. Instead he acts cold, dismissive, and controlling. The protagonist, meanwhile, doesn’t know that beneath his cold facade the Prince/King really does have a heart.

Their relationship reaches a breaking point when the protagonist makes an innocent mistake, and The Prince/King lashes out at them….

The protagonist decides that, even though they promised to stay/signed a contract, they can’t do this any longer. They try to leave….


But a wolf attack changes everything.

The Prince/King defends the protagonist from wolves (or guys riding on wolves).He’s gravely injured by one of these wolves.

 The protagonist then saves his life in return.

This near-death experience brings them closer together.

The Prince realizes he was wrong about the protagonist, and about himself…

”Bittersweet and strange, finding you can change, learning you were wrong!” Versus “I have never been so wrong in all my life.” 


There’s a lot of bonding between the Prince/King and the protagonist. The Prince/King becomes kinder, gentler. Their affection for the protagonist, and the protagonist’s kindness to them, makes the Prince/King more openly compassionate. Things are really looking up. It looks like the curse will be overcome (the Beast will become human, and Thorin won’t get the “dragon sickness” that drove his grandfather mad.)

But there’s another force to be reckoned with– a handsome, vain antagonist who loathes the Beast/the Dwarf….

(“I use antlers in all of my decorating!”)

This antagonist convinces everyone the Beast/Dwarf is evil and subhuman. (He’s very against the film’s Beast/human or dwarf/elf relationship).  He rallies a massive force to kill the Prince/King.

The protagonist, armed only with one of the Prince//King’s prized sparkly artifacts (the Mirror/the Arkenstone), tries to convince them to stop. But this only makes things worse.




At one point the Prince/King tells the protagonist to leave. Then the Prince/King, feeling betrayed and hopeless, becomes “beast-like” again. The enemy is at his doorstep but he refuses to fight,  resigned to his fate. One of his servants/followers tries to convince him to join the battle, but fails. Let them come, the Prince King thinks, let them destroy everything– he’ll remain holed up in his castle. He lets his servants/Dain’s troops fight his battle for him.

His servants/Dain’s army does well without him at first, but eventually he’s forced to join the fray. He fights one-on-one against an army/mob’s leader. There’s a moment where he thinks he’s defeated his foe….but then his enemy launches a surprise attack, stabs him, and mortally wounds him. Yet by killing the Prince/King, the evil guy also ends up killing himself. 

The protagonist rushes to the dying Prince/King’s side, blaming themselves for causing his death. The Prince/King, meanwhile, has finally redeemed himself. He apologizes for the way he acted in the past (“maybe it’s better this way”) and speaks lovingly about how wonderful the protagonist is, and how glad they are to see them one last time. The protagonist, meanwhile,  desperately insists that he will be all right.

But he isn’t. He dies. The protagonist collapses, weeping.

But then he comes back to life because love!!! In one of the films, anyway. In the other he is 50000 percent dead

BONUS:

Both films have animated and live-action adaptations. In the live-action adaptations, Ian McKellan plays one of the Prince’s allies (Cogsworth/Gandalf) while Luke Evans plays one of his adversaries (Gaston/Bard).

TL;DR: A Tale as old as time, song as old as rhyme, Bilbo and the Dwarf (or: the Burglar and the Beast?)

when i was seven the sea-witch cursed me.

she cursed my great-grandfather, actually, who had spat on the hands of the ocean and disrespected the beating heart of the earth - for what else are waves but a pulse - who was silly and violent and who tried to rip from the water what was hers by rights. we were wealthy, before that, a family of merchants. my mother says in her youth she recalls white horses, the gleam of candles, early mornings with bread baked fresh by a horde of servants.

he didn’t ask permission to cross her. that’s what my mother tells me while she spoons porridge with no flavor into the wood of my bowl. he had no faith in superstition, rode with boats that were more decoration than strength, the folly of a man who was cruel and vain and proud of his own gold teeth. the sky had been blue, so regardless of what the village witch said, he would sail that day. and when his boat sank; their lives turned blue like the sky that day.

my mother says she thinks the curse on the men of our family, even if they come in when they marry, is that they will forever be violent, too foolish to see the storm on the horizon. she whispers this to me on the eve of my seventh birthday, while father is his own storm, thundering around the house, looking for her. later, when i am cleaning the cut by her cheek, she tells me the curse is on the women to forever be unhappy, to wane until they are shadows, to walk into the deep like a sinking ship. 

we don’t burn candles often, they are too expensive. she tells me this in the silk of a dark room. the moon kisses her hair. 

in three days, my mother will walk into the ocean, and my father will be my own problem. the curse will pass onto me. 

my father does not believe in superstition, no curse to conquer him. when he is gone, and i am heartbroken, i go to the village witch. i ask her to teach me about magic, and other things, and about how the ocean can be coaxed, and how to save my father’s soul. 

and my hands rot too, keeping a house by myself with things i barely knew. i learn the art of a good scrubbing, keep my mind full of white horses while i endlessly clean, dream of candles in dark while i make the bread that he will not allow me to eat. he keeps me from the ocean, from visiting the place that took my mom, from following in her footsteps where the water makes women undone.

i am sixteen when i see her in the water of a bowl. she scares me so completely that i drop it, and my father comes in with his hands, and the curse, and i almost forget all about it. it isn’t until after that i realize she is beautiful, and young, which surprises me. 

i think about it every evening. her face becomes distorted to me. i can no longer remember the exact shape of it, only the impression of beauty. 

i turn seventeen and wait for the high moon. i pin safety to my vest in little witch herbs and runes. i put naked toes on the sand and slip closer, closer, to the avenue of my family’s doom. i find a little private beach, small and surrounded by rocks, hidden from my father in the event he ever thought to come looking. at high tide, it is barely the span of my body. at low, it feels empty.

the witch of the land has given me what i need to call in the witch of the sea, but i do not use it. it feels wrong, somehow, standing here in the wind and the quiet pulse of the world. i put down the incense and sage and i sit just close enough it feels wild, dangerous - but not close enough to get caught up in thrill. 

when nothing happens, i go home and i make bread that i will not eat.

for months i do this. i climb down to my beach. i learn to do it when the moon is half, and then when the moon is empty. i learn to do it so well that sometimes i go to sleep in my own bed and wake up by the water. i take to sleeping with warding runes to keep me from being pulled in the rip out to the waiting hands of a hungry sea-witch.

i don’t know when i start talking. more often i sing, because singing in my house is not allowed, and something about the way the rocks echo my voice feels comforting. the older i get, the more i can pretend i hear my mother’s voice, answering me, harmonizing gently. i sing songs about sadness and lullabies about curses. when i have exhausted every song i know, i write new ones about fathers who have never learned how to be kind, about the house i work in but do not love, about mothers who left, and about a sea witch.

i see her sometimes. in a puddle, in the drop of rain, in the strangest places. i never expect it, although i always hope. i am never able to see her for more than the length of a wave, breaking, and each time, it does something new to my heart.

at eighteen i am too much of my father’s burden. he tries to unload me onto other men. the land witch helps me with this. i rub hemlock, burn wolfsbane. we arrange so these men have other women to marry. the news of my curse is bad enough to scare most away. my father is not happy.

after a particularly savage night, i wonder how bad it could be. i could marry some boy from the village who didn’t quite bother me. i suppose they’re not ugly. timothy had always been gentle to me. i think about a life, and how i am cursed to be unhappy. my father would finally be proud of me.

i walk to the beach and i tell the waves about him and how i could convince myself it was love if i just never wanted from him. how i could be okay, if not content, how i could be free, how i already had learned life down on knees.

but i go home and i write a rune of warding. and the years pass and i find reasons each suitor is wanting. and the sea witch i see, sometimes, peeking out at me, staying long each time in the water, looking, watching. i see her in mirrors when my father storms against me. it is bad because he mistakes the cause of my smiling. it is better when she is there the next morning.

and i go to the ocean. when i am too sad to speak, it seems like the ocean is whispering for me. i picture my mother’s voice and tell myself i am happy. i am seven again and we are sewing. i am seven again and the curse has not been given to me. i am seven and she came home after she walked to the sea.

i grow silly, brave, unthinking. i leave behind the herbs and i wade deep. i teach myself the art of swimming. i am bad at it, at first, but something about it feels good to me. like the ocean wants to buoy me. in the day i think of it, guilty. what if there was a rip tide, and the water took me? who would care for my father if i stepped off the beach into a long drop? wasn’t i clever enough to know that the ocean is uncaring?

it is not this that does it. i go out after a rain and i slip on the rocks and suddenly i am in water above my head but without the moon i cannot see the up of it. i kick and i thrash and the water surrounds me. the tide pulls on my body and in the cold i feel my body grow weary. water spills into me. it punches through my body, up my nose and into my lungs and some part of me knows this is what mother felt before she was gone.

i kick ground by accident, reorient, drag myself heaving and spitting into the air. i lie there for a long time, half in and half out of death, enjoying the sensation of breathing and of life.

when i look up, i think i see her, watching me, her brows knit with something like worry. but we make eye contact and my heart leaps and then she is gone and i am left alone with nothing but the dawn breaking.

my father is furious when there is no bread. he finds my hair wet, and the salt of the ocean still smelling on me. and that is it. that day he goes out and pays someone to agree to marry me.

this feels right to me, i think. i’m twenty-one, three times seven, a perfect number for a curse to fully come down on me. i will be wed in three weeks.

the land witch comes to visit me. she looks like she’s sorry for me. she gives me a spell and tells me to put it under my pillow; i’ll dream of love and it will soothe me. instead i dream of the seawitch, and how wonderful she is, and the sight of her, out on the water, worried.

even though it is risky, i go down to the beach. i do not bother with protective spells, i have already seen that the water can kill me. fear alone keeps me from wandering. i sit on the beach and in the sand i draw runes for understanding and i make the small magicks i’ve spent years learning and i close my eyes and i ask the ocean “why do you do this to me.”

i fall asleep. i dream that the sea witch talks to me. i dream she is my age, that she is the great-granddaughter of the first to curse my family. i dream she has spent years watching, learning, finding the truth of me. that she just needs to get the courage to come and speak, that she has fallen in love with my singing, that she knows no curse but the one in her heart that brings her back to a human, to a creature of air and not water, to a mistake in the making.

in the dawn i know it is a dream and no more. i make bread. i pour water out before it can make mirrors. i do not look. i do not like the ache that has filled me, as if i’ve been looking for an answer and the answer only leads to longing.

the man i meet - my husband-to-be - is delighted by the house i keep. he believes a woman should keep in her place, and her place should be clean. he hears from neighbors that sometimes i sneak out to the land witch’s house. laughter barks out of him. not going to allow that behavior, not me. he does not believe in curses. he will pack me up and move me from the ocean to somewhere in the mountains, where i know nobody. and i will, he promises, learn to keep my place, and that place clean.

i tell myself i could love him. he is not ugly. he says i’m pretty enough after whiskey. my father mentions i used to sing. i refuse to perform for these men so instead i make them cookies. they laugh and talk about me, even when i am in the room, as if they cannot even see. they shake hands and talk about how useless a woman is for much else than breeding. it’s very funny. the man meets my eyes and promises he’ll put a baby in me. i look down and pretend the thrill i feel is excitement, not fear brewing in me.

the land witch comes by a week before my wedding. she is smaller these days, aging. her apprentice and i get along wonderfully. the two women stand before me, holding something. 

a small box, so tiny and lovely. “break the curse,” the witch whispers, “learn to be happy.”

i smuggle the box, take it everywhere with me. it is days before i have a moment to slip away, to open it by the sea. i take a candle with me, even though my father will notice and be angry.

by the light of fire i read the spell they have left me inside, and then i am so full of gratitude i cannot stop crying.

it must be a full moon, so i must wait. in the meantime, i walk home, and i bake. 

i do not see the seawitch, even though i look for her. maybe i have wounded her, getting married. my father asks why i keep smiling. i tell him it is because i am finally with a man. he grunts and says to stop looking so silly. 

the man kisses me. i let him. we are married on a night with a full moon, and i poison him and my father in the bread i did not eat. i think of how these men were cursed so they could not see a storm coming. i watch them as they lie there, dying, and then i put all of the things i own into a basket for the land witch. i leave it there with a song i wrote for her, a spell i know will make her happy, will stop the aging of her joints, will give her the kind of relief she gave me. 

i go down to the water. i find myself running, even though i am in no hurry. i know the way so well it is like i wake up there, panting. i ask permission first. i lay out the contents of the box, i organize and practice and when the needle and pain comes, i am ready for it. i am used to pain at night. i breathe into it and walk naked into waters that swallowed my mother.

i chew bitter herbs. i swallow fire. i feel myself drown as i change from land witch to sea witch. 

when it is done, i open my eyes in the deep of a moonlit ocean. and i see her. 

this time she does not flicker. this time when i reach for her, she is there, and she is pushing my hair out of my eyes, and we are kissing with the ocean rejoicing around us, and i am laughing, and i hear her voice as clear as bell inside me.

and we live like this, a whole world between us where white horses are the size of pinky fingers and swim with their thin snouts, where i need no candles because i was raised lightless, where we have no servants but the water takes care of us. i show her the magic of land and she unfolds the magic of water. together we are unstoppable. when i come up to the air to sing little girls a promise that they can survive the madness, she sings with me, and we make a beautiful harmony.

[All of this happened because I wanted to write something about Stiles not being able to sleep without his pillow. Spoiler alert: his pillow is Derek.]

-

Derek tries not to look too hurt when Stiles says he’s going back to Washington, but when the Sheriff claps his back and Scott offers him a friendly hug, he knows he failed. But after everything, after the other night - it just doesn’t feel fair.

-

“It was a nice road trip, wasn’t it?” Stiles had said after they’ve won, after everything was done, their friends were alive and fine and Derek finally got his loft back. “I mean, we had some fun, right?”

Derek smiled without looking away from the flowers the Sheriff got him as a housewarming gift. “Yeah.” He answered, finally turning around. “It was nice to spend time with you.” It was more than nice and he cursed himself for not being able to say it, still, after everything, after the nights spent driving and talking and fucking in deserted roads.

“Yeah.” Stiles agreed easily. He was the one who started it after all, always showing up to save Derek - despite Derek saving him back plenty of times - always being there, trusting him, smiling and laughing like Derek makes him happy. “What will you do now that you’re a free man again?”

Derek shrugged. “I always wanted to start a farm, maybe raise some sheep?” When Stiles blinked at him, surprised, Derek let out a snort.

“Fuck you, I almost believed it!” Stiles said, punching his shoulder.

“You’re ridiculous.” Derek shook his head, still smiling. 

You’re ridiculous.” Stiles stressed, his hand still on Derek’s shoulder, touching, teasing. “I’m -“ Derek didn’t let him finish then, turning around and just pressing their lips together.

He didn’t want to listen then - and in hindsight maybe he should’ve - but without the haste, the guilt of having a nice time whilst their friends could be dying, Derek couldn’t wait, he just wanted to worship Stiles’ body, just wanted to kiss all the places he couldn’t reach before when they were squeezed in the backseat of Stiles’ car. 

And so he did, he made Stiles moan his name the entire night and he moaned Stiles’ own just as louder. Just to have his heart crushed the morning after.

-

“I’m gonna miss you.” Stiles says, his Jeep packed and ready to go. To leave everything behind.

It’s unfair, Derek knows. Stiles didn’t make promises and neither did he, but he can’t help how he feels. He understands Stiles doesn’t want to be in Beacon Hills anymore and that’s his choice, but Derek made his own and he’s tired of running away.

He’s never felt closer to his family than when he’s here, he’s already lost enough and he doesn’t want to lose his home. But somehow, as Stiles drives away, he feels like he just did.

-

I miss you, Derek thinks every day, staring at the black screen of his phone and wondering if he should actually write those words and send them to Stiles. He decides against it and despite the fact he was joking before, on the third day after Stiles left, Derek buys a farm.

He tells Lydia first during lunch at her favorite restaurant - she was adamant they had to become best friends and Derek enjoys her company so he lets it happen easily - and she tells him he’s not allowed to wear plaid around her. Then he tells Scott and two days later, he shows up at Derek’s front door with all kinds of seeds - “We need pumpkins for Halloween, Derek. Make it happen!”.

It’s something to do with his hands, something to work on. Create life, instead of ending them, build things, instead of destroying. He feels good, better and healing. Cora says he’s calmer now and Derek smiles, despite knowing she won’t be able to see him, and tells her he is.

Some days Stiles texts him, others he doesn’t. Derek reads the ones he has every night before going to bed, but he never answers them.

Keep reading

general li mulan

okay so i LOVE mulan okay. as far as i’m concerned it’s a Perfect Movie and doesn’t need any fixing. but i was thinking today and -

- what if mulan didn’t go to war to save her father?

say her father is dead, okay, killed by the previous war. so she’s raised by her mother and grandmother, women who’s complacency and softness has been worn away by necessity. she needs to marry well, for her family’s sake, because her mother has refused the hand of every man who offered. but mulan is even more rough around the edges than before, is educated not only in books (her mother said men wouldn’t find smarts attractive and grandmother pointed out that men aren’t always around and off to school mulan went) but in the sword too, taught to her by her classmate, ping.

mulan is considered in the lower end of the upper class, coming from a family of military men and scholars and successful merchants. ping is near the top, the son or nephew of an advisor to the emperor. his family is very rich and very important, and the reason they become friends is because mulan manages to notice something about him that he’s been hiding from everyone else - he’s going blind.

not totally blind, enough to get around, but blind enough that reading is difficult and swordplay is even worse, although once he has it down he has it. ping is no fool, he’s not weak or bumbling. his eyes just don’t work. so mulan notices and confronts him about it. she promises to keep it a secret, and hey, she’ll even help him with his assignments by reading the books out loud and helping him study. but in return he must teach her the sword, must teach her about military and tactics. he agrees.

ping and mulan become very good friends and there’s some raised eyebrows about it but they are TOO far away in class for it to be inappropriate, so they make tutting sounds and disapproving faces and let it go.

then the draft happens. ping can’t go to war, he won’t survive it. not with his eyesight like it is. so mulan offers him a deal - she’ll go to war for him, in his place. in return, if she survives, he must marry her. if she dies he must take care of her family.

ping can’t make this kind of family decision on his own, so he goes to his mother and tells her everything, about the eyesight and how he’ll die if he goes and mulan’s offer. his mother says he must keep it a secret from his father, but agrees - if mulan fights in her son’s place and survives, a wedding will be arranged. either way, mulan’s family will be taken care of. ping will be sent to live with some cousins in the meanwhile.

“you’re not in love with me, are you?” ping asks, helping mulan saddle her horse in the middle of the night. she scoffs and rolls her eyes, “not even a little. but marrying you will make my family happy, and besides, you’re my best friend,” she says, smiling, “better you than some grabby old man.” he smiles and hugs her and says, “i’m not in love with you either. but don’t die out there. we have a wedding to plan.”

so mulan goes to the camp, pretending to be ping, and she’s a little bit less lost but things still go as they go. she’s educated and trained, so it’s not hard for her to pass as ping. shang is keeping a special eye on her, thinking that she’s the son of an advisor, one of his father’s friends. and he sees how easily she excels, how quick thinking and smart she is, and starts giving her more and more responsibilities. by the time they’re called out, shang considers ping ie mulan to be his right hand man, and possibly his best friend.

he’s also a little bit in love with ping, and he’s long known he’s attracted to both genders, so he watches ping laugh and smile and the crease between his eyes when he frowns and does his best to let his feelings chase away the best soldier he has. every time shang looks at ping his heart clenches and he things to himself: i wish i could have you, i wish this was a time and a place where one man could have another, i wish you were a girl, is wish i was a girl - i wish we could be together. he’s literally a step away from doodling ‘li ping’ with little hearts over his battle plans. 

so the battles happen. shang and ping lead their men together, respected and loved. they each get promoted, and promoted, and promoted. it’s been years, and it comes to a point where they’re both generals in their own right. they trust each other, care for each other. and are both secretly in love with the other.

mulan is so conflicted. because she wants this war to end and to go home and settle back into life and become ping’s wife, so she can have an easy life spent studying and learning with her family taken care of. that’s what she’d wanted. but now what she wants is shang, her best friend, her brother in arms, her fellow general. she wishes to be everything to him, aches to be the woman on his arm and in his bed, but knows it’s the one thing she can never be.

then that final battle happens. mulan’s quick thinking saves them all and ends the war - but she’s injured.

shang finds out the ping has been a girl all along. he demands explanations - so she tells him everything, that she traded places with ping to save him, to become his wife.

and the lies should sting the sharpest, but they don’t. she’s still the same person, after all. it’s that she’s promised to another man, for one second he’d thought he might have her, but no. so he agrees not to reveal her but he’s furious and furious at himself for being furious and they’re not the same now, broken and splintered and neither of them know what to do.

the war is over. they leave. mulan returns home, and thanks to her ping is now known as a respected general. she’s done her part and survived, and now she gets her reward - ping’s hand in marriage.

but she sees ping for the first time and flings herself into his arms and starts crying. she tells him everything, because he’s still her friend, her very best friend besides shang, the man whom she lied to and betrayed and loves. and ping listens and takes her by the shoulders and says - i’ll uphold our bargain, if that’s what you want. you can be my pampered wife, you’ve more than earned it. but if you want to go to shang, i won’t blame you. you deserve your happiness.

and mulan goes back and forth, but ultimately she decides she has to try. if shang rejects her she’ll return and marry ping and uphold her family honor. but if shang wants her - he’s not as high up as ping, but he’s high up enough to satisfy her family, and also she would love him and want him if he was no more than a farming peasant so it doesn’t matter much anyway.

she rides to the capitol. she finally meets ping’s father, running into him while looking for shang. “ah mulan,” says this man who was never supposed to know of her until she became his daughter-in-law, “i didn’t expect to see you here. how fortuitous. walk with me.” she does, wary, and that’s how she discovers - he and the emperor had discovered her deception a year in, but at that point she’d already proven herself too skilled and valuable to lose. he tells her that he will uphold his son and wife’s deal and gladly welcome her to his household - but that she’s earned her rank as general, and that he and the emperor have no problem with letting her keep it.

she says thank you, shocked and joyful, but that she has to talk to someone first. “ah, yes, young general li,” he says, eyes twinkling, “i do believe he’s around here somewhere.”

she has no idea how he seems to know everything, but she finally tracks down shang who’s ecstatic to see her and hates himself for it. she confesses - says she loves him, that she’s engaged to ping but willing and able to break this engagement for shang. who is dumbfounded and elated and says yes, of course, finally and forever.

and mulan accepts her rank and marries shang, and they become the literal power battle couple of the general li mulan and general li shang. ping becomes a scholar and marries a very nice young woman who loves reading and is happy to read aloud to her husband with his failing eyes.

and they all live happily ever after.

⇁ all that is gold (m)

Originally posted by chimtae

pairing⇁Taehyung x Reader

genre⇁smut, angst || roommate!au + sugar baby!au

warnings⇁sub!taehyung, skype sex, masturbation, orgasm denial, possessiveness, slight breath play, oral sex, dirty talk, thigh riding, tae ends up sort of a switch? idk

word count⇁11.2k

As a college student struggling to make ends meet, Taehyung resorts to a less than ethical method to satisfy his appetite for expensive treats. The last thing he wants is for you to find out how he acquires the Gucci in his closet… however this proves to be difficult when you are his roommate.

or : Taehyung is a sugar baby and somehow thinks he can keep this a secret

a/n; ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Keep reading

;slowdance on the inside (m)

pairing— kim taehyung x reader | feat jeon jungkook
genre/warnings— light angst, romance/fluff and smut
words— 20,476

:: summary— Taehyung has liked you as long as he can remember. He’s unsure when the line blurred from friendship to romantically, but it’s about to get a lot worse when he’s forced to watch you date his friend, Jungkook…

Keep reading

Canonization of Gruvia. (A massive collection of notable moments)

Normally I talk about chapters, but this time since my OTP is now canon, I’m going to talk about them more exclusively.

Note, this post isn’t necessarily about their own development (many other gruvia fans have already taken care of that portion), but rather this is just an examples of some key moments of this beautiful ship before they entered into canonization) 

I think it’s pretty clear at this point that Gray has feelings for Juvia at this point of the stage.

WARNING: LONG POST COMING! 

YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED

Let’s backtrack shall we?

Obviously Juvia has feelings for them ever since they met here. People say, that Juvia fell in love with Gray because of his looks, but I’d say she fell in love with not only his looks but also his courage to stand up for his comrades, more.

Juvia went from being angry to Gray’s words about saving Lucy, to falling in love with him ever again here, when he saved her from the rain, and showed her shine.

While Juvia wasn’t very close to Gray at this stage,  Gray was pissed at the notion of her being attacked by Simon.


When Juvia requested Makarov for joining, this is Gray’s face.

See how happy he is?

Behind that cool attitude armor of his, shows his true self.


First chapter cover of them featured:

Gray, Juvia’s going on a mission:

Gruvia parade

Here in other portion of the events, we see an edolas version of gruvia

to a beautiful unison raid, one of the sweetest moments of display in combining magic of compatibility in a anime only arc

Originally posted by sneakybree

Juvia was the only to believe Gray is innocent and trapping Natsu for a reason, not even Cana (Gray’s own best friend) believed him. Juvia did.

Gray worried about Juvia’s own progress and status

See Loke’s face? He’s basically blushing at seeing Gray worry about Juvia when he should be worried about himself.

Meredy’s magic showing how powerful emotions are between two characters. Considering how Juvia and Gray have strong feelings for each other, Meredy’s magic worked. Otherwise it wouldn’t have if their feelings toward each other weren’t strong.

Juvia being enraged at the thought of her lover being in danger

The moments they shared depict Gray teaching Juvia how to eat here. (Let’s not forget the fact that a married couple (bisca x alzack) were blushing at the sight of seeing this)


and range from Juvia saving Gray from the enemy

to Gray saving Juvia from the enemy

Deep powerful moments. Juvia showing how intellectual and a quick thinker, to Gray showing how he can outwit his enemy and save his loved one. Even instinctly going as far as giving up his own body to save his lover from harm.

Carrying Juvia when she’s hurt.

to shouldering each other’s injuries

Some Jelly Juvia, since Gray was in line to get treated for his wounds by nurse Erza  :>

Now GMG Arc is where we get sufficient amount of moments between Gray and Juvia.

First we got a sign of jelly Gray :>

This shows that Gray first the time is annoyed at a female guild member being taken away from him. 

To putting matters into his own hands

Spawning a cover where they are going to get more canonical moments.

From Gray’s own sister figure talking about his feelings

Telling him to be more open. and ofc a sign of blushy gray and his tsunderism.

His brother telling him to marry Juvia already, telling him to give him the date for marriage.

To some Gruvia teamwork,and Gray trusting Juvia in her powers

While Juvia nods in approval, they show a canonical unison raid this time.

and succeed, holding each other’s hands with a smile.

See how comfortable Gray looks in the spur of this moment?

casual gruvia

In the aftermath, we see Gray saving Juvia from her death,  a very powerful moment from dragon kids.


After Gray was thankfully saved by Ultear, we see Gray bluntly speaking to Juvia about his wants. Ofc, I’d say it’s more and less comedic relief, and I have no problem, because negative moments eventually turn into positive.

Juvia reprimands Gray for showing a sulky mood, and requests him to please smile for his family.

Gray eating Juvia’s cookies. Gray’s annoyed at the thought of any one else eating her baked delicious food, and offers to eat.

With a hilarious conclusion ofc.

Onto Tartaros arc

Gray, Juvia are on a side mission to collect information about missing people’s whereabouts.

Now here’s another powerful moment of Gray holding a scared Juvia’s hands, and telling him to not worry as he’s by her side.


Cute Juvia, not letting her love get any harm.

Now, we see an enraged Juvia once again at the thought of hearing that Gray’s life is in danger

Let us appreciate that one of the largest panel was given to Juvia in regards to Gray remembering his loved ones when commiting IS. Yes, Juvia’s panel was even bigger than Ur.

Gray’s own father, calling Juvia his woman and entrusting her in the power of killing Keith the necromancer so he can RIP peacefully.

Juvia calling Silver her father :D

The power of Juvia’s feelings and strength and someone who will not let her father law’s request go in vain.

Silver giving his blessings to Juvia, and telling her to take care of his son.

Juvia wants to see her Gray-sama.

So here we see Juvia confronting Gray about his [s]their[/s] father

Her we see what Juvia did. We see Juvia really distraught at having to kill Silver through Keith. and LOOK AT THAT, KEY MOMENT: IF JUVIA IS OBSESSIVE AS HER HATERS SAY, WHY DID SHE SAY SHE HAS NO RIGHT TO LOVE JUVIA ANYMORE? IS THAT SOMETHING AN OBSESSED YANDERE WOULD DO? 

After a brief tug, Gray thanks Juvia, and doesn’t let her go. Juvia was about to move on, when apologizing but it was GRAY HIMSELF that grabbed her and needed to be comforted. Silver had to go, because he would’ve been tortured by Keith, and his spirit would have not RIP if Juvia didn’t kill Keith. 

One of the more powerful moments for Gruvia IMO

Moving on

Some key moments in an omake

Chapter cover

Natsu ships them.

Juvia made a scarf for her Gray-sama on the celebration of their 413th anniversary (the combined days of when they first met :D)

Gray and Juvia meet. Keep in mind, Gray is mourning for Ul’s death anniversary and Juvia is unaware of it.

While an intoxicated Gray (he was drinking) threw her gift say, stating ice mages don’t grow cold, he apologizes.

Gray remembers the first time UL knitted him her scarf as a kid.

Gray realizes what he’s done, and desperately tries to find the Juvia made scarf he threw away

and proceeds to wear it, in a cute tsunderish expression, stating he feels warm now.

Gray once again apologizes, and Juvia is excited to see he has her scarf around his neck, ending in a hilarious sequence of a body  :D

On a sidenote, my favourite cover. My babies sleeping side by side.

Onto Avatar arc

We know from this fact that Gray and Juvia lived together (JUST THE TWO OF THEM) in one small distant house.

Imagine that! They lived together as husband and wife practically under in one roof, eating together, training together, and sleeping under one roof. Imagine that. 

See in my view, this is where Gray started to get closer to Juvia and now knows her more. When you’re living together for over half a year, you get to know the strength, weakness and knowledge of the person. You become closer emotionally to that person. Keep in mind, there was no one else around Gray and Juvia, so it was strictly them. So basically they were part of conversation they had around that timespan, period.

You see Juvia became sick through the rain with fever even though water magic. This shows strongly devoted to Gray to a point that her advantage over rain was useless when she found out he was away for a long time.

Juvia sensed that Gray was fighting enemies, and got there in time. Here he apologizes for his departure, and they battle together.

and look at that, Juvia even got his stripping habit! I think this is a great tribute to Ul, and a nice idea Mashima implemented. They are known as the stripping couple thanks to Ul. :)

and ofc Gray apologizes once aain for his actions, assuring Juvia who’s happy as long as he’s safe.

and ofc jelly Juvia :>

Another powerful moment incoming.

Gray offers to treat Juvia

Gray thanks Juvia for always being by his side.

States that after war is over, He’ll give her an answer

The 6 months of living together has brought them more closer than ever, and now Gray is more open about his feelings.

cuties posing

G x J on Gray’s boxers, huehuehuehue

cuties x2

Unfortunately, Gray and Juvia are now tied via ice chains, and about to fight to the death. Notice Juvia’s words in the last panel.

Such tragic case of events, they are forced to fight to the death. Juvia refusely is trying to resist, while Gray is doing the same.

Juvia stating, she can not harm Gray anymore, and is willing to give up her own life. Stating how happy she is to ever meet  Gray. *cries*

and here comes a twist, Gray does the same thing! He also commits suicide at the same moment and time Juvia does, stabbing himself with a ice sword. So basically both would rather die than harm each other. Such a powerful profound message and feelings of intense mutual love of this couple shown for one another

Gray was willing to give up his own mission of destroying END for Juvia’s sake. Both of them were willing to give up many years of their lives for each other. If this isn’t love, then I don’t know what is. srsly.

Gray states he wants to protect Juvia at any cost.. Notice how Gray was about to say  comrade, then crossed that out, and said “you”. Meaning Juvia is more than just a comrade for Gray. 

This is beautiful. Romeo and Juliet esque.

Juvia saves Gray’s life by giving him, her blood.

Juvia saying she’s now part of him with her blood. This is beautiful. Juvia thought this much about Gray’s life that she taught herself this magic just in case Gray’s life was in danger. Look how much she cares for Grays’ well being. She’s the perfect woman for Gray. and as a huge fan of Gray from the start, I’m proud of the fact that he’s developing feelings for the right girl.

Gray’s so distraught. Look how emotionally effected Gray is. He’s crying his heart out. Poor guy : ( He lost to so many of his family members, and now he’s lost his most closest loved one. Begging Juvia to open her eyes, bawling his eyes filled with tears, screaming her name :(

enraged Gray, about to unleash the demon in him.

We get a cute panel of the couple.

Gray’s so pissed about Juvia’s demise, that he’s only hurling grunting sounds.

Gray doesn’t care about Invel, he cares about how Invel stole away his future.

Look how vulnerable, heart broken and pain Gray’s eyes are :( He’s shattered in mind and physically. He’s no longer the same here. This is what lead to him getting out of control against END, because the trauma of seeing another close loved one of his dying infront of him, was too much for his mind to bear. He was no longer the same person.

Once Gray found out Juvia’s alive while she utters his name, he utters back her name and  falls down with immense gravitated pressure. While down, he’s fiinally he’s in peace, resting, in full relief that he doesn’t need to over exert himself now that Juvia’s alive His mind is in peace, he’s smiling. Juvia is also in full relief that her Gray-sama is fine, and falls right at him lol.

Gray reassuring to himself, that he needs to apologize about Juvia. See how open he is, he doesn’t even care if his comrades are there lol.

Before the canonization scene, I would like to remind everyone once again, of how Gray reacts to Juvia from earlier moments, to recently when she tries to get closer to him.

It started from this:


to this

God bless character development. God bless this pairing. God bless character change. Gray is openly smiling while being close to Juvia while she embraces him. This is the happiest Gray has ever been in these two panels, than he’s ever been before. He’s loving life.

Here comes the canonization last scenes of this pairing. First we see Gray being jealous at a drunk craved Juvia, and quickly drags her away. Would Gray reacted if that was Erza, Lucy, or any of his other comrades? HELL NO. At tleast not to that extent, of personally dragging a woman from that mess.

Gray is talking about scars, Juvia has one, and Gray wants to get rid of it, but Juvia doesn’t mind. Not only does Juvia have Gray’s stripping habits, but now she has his scars as well lol.

Now here comes the CONFESSION! Juvia says what about her body?? GRAY CONFESSES THAT IT”S HIS. THERE”S NO MAYBE, HE CLEARLY BLURTS OUT IT”S HIS IN THE OPEN!!! Gray wants Juvia and her body. Infact he wants to sleep with her with this implication. 

Look at Wendy, she knows what’s going on. This is the best we’ll see out of Gray, a blushy tsundere Gray’s own confession. He’s not the type of guy who’ll straight up say I love you or hug a woman like that, this is just Gray in character! :D.

This essentially makes GRUvIA CANON!!!!  

Sure, it could’ve been better with all of that teasing and buildup  but we still got an amazing moment! and for that we should cherish it for our OTP!

Small rant:

For those antis, do you read while having your eyes closed? How do you ignore the developments, panels, and strong feelings they have for each other? you are in denial. You are in denial of Gray’s character. It’s truly idiotic that you believe he’s acting out of character, it just means you don’t know a single thing about him. You just want to  ship him with another girl because you don’t like Juvia.  You don’t know Gray’s character at all all if you think he’s acting OOC. This is Gray Fullbuster at his characterization.  This is Gray in love with his woman, so who gives you the right to bash Mashima about his own creations? Kindly close the door and get out :)

Gray’s happiness IS and will always be JUVIA. A true Gray fan knows that.

CELEBRATION TIME!

TIME TO CELEBRATE EvERYONE!!!!!

GRUVIA. IS. CANON!!! THE WAIT IS FINALLY OVER!

Originally posted by gifsme

Originally posted by i-alwayslikedstrangecharacters

Originally posted by black-jackal-on-blog

Note: I may have missed some key moments, so write them down in the notes, and I’ll edit and them in later.

I have not added the Gruvia moments in the second movie, because I haven’t watched it yet. 

Likes, and reblogs are appreciated! If you ship Gruvia, you will love this!

On Edge - Request

Requested by anon:  Can you make a heated sherlock imagine where he hasn’t had a case in a while but hasn’t been able to go to the drug dens or smoke because of Y/N so he takes out his frustration on her ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) (doesn’t have to be smut but it could be real HEATED)

Summary: Sherlock has no cases and John forbid him to smoke. (Y/N) continues to mock him about it, without telling him where his cigarettes are, which leads Sherlock to find other ways to take out his frustration and, at the same time, showing her what it’s like to be on edge.

Pairing: Sherlock x reader

Warnings: Smut - edging, fingering, teasing -, dominant!Sherlock

Word count: 2,447

A/N: This is the longest piece of smut I’ve written and it’s not even smut like so, wow. I hope you like this!

Enjoy!

Originally posted by iamcumberlocked

Sherlock stomped from one side to the other of the flat.  He was frantically looking for that tiny carton box, hidden somewhere inside that messy labyrinth he had unconsciously created. She was sitting on the sofa, knowing exactly what he was doing but pretending to ignore it, although Sherlock had noticed that sly smirk formed on her red lips.

Not a case, not a single one, and that was his curse. He had saved everyone and gotten to be a big and famous detective, but what was the price of fame? Boredom, that was.

“I need them.” Sherlock begged. His back was turned to her, but he knew exactly how big and curved that mischievous grin on her face was.

“No.” She replied.

“You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?” Sherlock finally turned to see her.

Her legs were crossed, one over the other, and her feet were pointing at him. The black high heels matched the black pencil skirt that failed to hide the soft skin from her thighs. Her hands were holding one of his old books, and her arms rested lazily over one of the arm-holders. A messy strand of hair had fell over her face, framing it so delicately it made Sherlock get distracted for a few milliseconds.

“John told me you were annoying when you were bored.” She said, “But I have to say it: You are fascinating.”

“I’m even better when I’m smoking.” Sherlock snapped. He lifted his chin, trying to look like the intimidating man from the newspapers rather than an anxious boy.

“Those things will kill you one day.” She leaned back on the couch, allowing her head to fall back on the pillow. Sherlock observed said movement as if it had been performed in slow motion.

How the lose strand bounced over her nose before falling back to the side. The way her eyes shut after her head touched the soft fabric, and that slight breeze of air her lips expelled. The way her chest rose up a bit after, inhaling once more. And her feet, one of them – the one from the leg crossed on top – still pointing at him. How her delicate hands left the book over her lap, calling his attention to focus yet again on her skin.

He was driving him insane.

Keep reading

Protection

Request: Can I request one where Tony Starks little sister is in a failing relationship? They were at the tower arguing and Tony came in the room just as the guy was hitting her? But before Tony could do anything Bucky storms over and knocks the guy through the wall. She tells him it’s been going on for a while and she was scared to say anything about it.

Note: for anyone in an abusive relationship or family, I hope you know you’re strong enough to get out. reach out to someone that can help. without further ado, thanks for the request, darlin! I hope it doesn’t suck, omg. leave a comment and let me know your thoughts! .c


You weren’t sure how it happened; what changed. Everything was going smoothly, you were happy. Your world felt perfect. The honeymoon phase had gone and passed, and it still felt like a fairy-tale relationship. He was a gentleman - the type that opened your car door for you and made sure your seat-belt was tight enough before he drove off. The type that held open doors and pulled your chair out, took care of you when you were sick and rubbed your feet after working all day. Your relationship was one of which little girls dream to have when they get older - full of love, loyalty, and everlasting happiness.

Sadly, not everything is as it seems. Behind closed doors, that gentleman you fell in love with, along with those eyes and that shining smile that made you feel fireworks in your belly, turned cold and everything went wrong. Three words kept your feet planted. 

Your feet always did become tired after being on them for too long.


The team had left for a mission, one you were able to get out of so you could spend your three year anniversary with your boyfriend while they were gone. It felt normal again, like the worst was over with and you could let go of what has happened. You made dinner for the both of you; his favorite dish. You wanted to stay in and have a more intimate evening than be in the eye of a crowd on such a special occasion.

Everything was perfect for a few hours. And then it wasn’t. He complained about his job while eating, which you listened to because you care, then he started talking about moving away, getting out of this place. You noticed the way his eyes darted around the large kitchen in the Avengers Tower. You had a gut feeling he meant this place in particular.

Your life was here. A well paying job, saving people alongside your friends, your brother was here, your friends, and New York City was your home. There’s no way you were going to give this up. 

The loud clank of a fork dropping against the ceramic plate caused you to flinch in your seat after you spoke your mind. His hard stare bore into your eyelids as you stared down at your dinner with a fast beating heart. Your palms grew damp as his breathing became erratic. 

“Excuse me?” His voice was rough and low. You looked up and his fists were clenched, the skin pulled tight against his knuckles. Those of which you’ve had contact with more times than you could count. Sighing softly, you kept your cool. 

You avoided his eyes as you chose your words carefully. “My life is here.” Your voice didn’t come out as you had hoped, you sounded small. His nostrils flared and he jolted from the table, his thighs knocking against the edge, causing his glass to fall over and his drink to spill. Your body jerked at the action and you hoped he wouldn’t do anything. 

Even hope fails sometimes.

He stormed out of the room and your eyes followed his tensed body. You sighed and rest your elbows on the table, rubbing your temples for a few moments. It’s the night of your anniversary and spending it arguing was not in your plans, so you wanted to fix this now. Scooting your chair back, you left the mess as is and went to find him. 

You stepped into your bedroom and watched him pace back and forth, pulling at his hair. “Baby, can we just ta-” His head shot towards you and his eyebrows were creased together. “I don’t want you here anymore!” He yelled, the vein in his neck protruding. You stepped towards him and scoffed. “This-this is my life! I’m not throwing it away!” Your voice was louder and it surprised him. 

Anger started to overtake every emotion you had. “I’m sorry but if you don’t like it, then I don’t know what to tell you.” You shrugged and he laughed, deep and menacing. “What I say goes, sweetheart. You’re mine!” He said it as if you were his property and you stood silent. 

“You’re a fucking bitch, you know that!?” Your mouth fell open as he continued to yell at you. All of what he said was a lie, you do everything for him. For years you’ve been nothing but good to him.

“How am I a bitch? Because I don’t want to do what you want to do for once? I could be out with my team right now saving people but I chose to spend tonight with you!”

Your voice was just as loud as his but you didn’t care. You both knew you weren’t giving up your life here. What you didn’t know, was that the whole team was listening since they had all just arrived and heard you two in the quiet tower, and two men were making their way up to you.

He took a step towards you and gripped your arm, jerking you in place, his face mere inches from yours. You struggled in his grip and tried to pull it away but his grip was too tight. “You’re hurting me, stop it!” Your eyes filled with tears and your lip trembled. 

His jaw clenched as his grip got even tighter, causing you to yelp. Your fingers dug into his hand but it wouldn’t budge. “I don’t fucking care! You’re mine and we’re leaving! What I say goes!” You ignored the pain in your arm and shoved his chest with your other hand this time. He stumbled a tad then he gripped both of your arms so you couldn’t fight back.

“I grew up here, I’m not leaving just because you want me to!” Your words only angered him more. You were denying him what he wanted and he hated it. His face came even closer to yours and you cowered away as best you could. 

He let you go with a growl and you hissed at the pain, the throbbing in your arms was excruciating. He started pacing again, his fists clenched. You couldn’t take this anymore. The only thing you were leaving is him and this is the moment you’ve been waiting for deep down. Your eyes spilled tears as you gathered the courage to speak.

“We’re done.” Your voice shook and you wiped at your cheeks. 

Suddenly, he turned around and lifted his hand in the air, but before he could strike, a large body ran into him, both of them going straight through the wall and into the room beside yours. You screamed and jerked away as you felt a hand rest on your shoulder. Your brother was standing there, his eyes wide with shock and anger.

He pulled you into his chest and the reality of what could’ve happened, yet again, settled in. You sobbed into his chest and he pulled you out of the room. Before you were out all the way, you looked inside and saw Bucky punch your boyfriend - ex boyfriend - in the face, yelling something you couldn’t make out. 

Steve met you and Tony in the hallway, his eyes falling on Tony’s for a split second. Steve clenched his jaw as his eyes landed on your sobbing figure. “What happened? Are you okay?” He made to reach out to touch you but Tony wouldn’t let him. “Get Barnes.” Your brother rasped and Steve gave him a curt nod. Bucky’s yells were still coming from your room, seemingly getting louder as the seconds passed.

Tony took you into the common room and sat you down on the couch. You were shaking and crying as he held you in his arms. The tower was so silent, you could hear Steve yelling below at Bucky. 

“You’re going to kill him!” 

“He deserves it!”

“Buck, STOP!”

“You fucking piece of shit! How dare you!”

“Bucky, he’s out cold!” 

“I don’t fucking care! He hurt her!”

Tony reached for a remote on the coffee table and turned on his stereo, keeping it loud enough to drown out their yells. You always loved classical music and you felt yourself starting to calm down as the minutes passed. Your breathing slowed but you were still shaken up. 

Tony turned to you and you avoided his eyes. “Y/N…” He gulped, trying to figure out how to ask this. You wiped your nose and sighed. “I didn’t know what to do, Tony.” Your voice cracked and Tony pulled you back into his arms, rubbing your back. He lightly shushed you as you sobbed loudly. 

“Never again. Never. Again.” He repeated his words as a promise to you. He wanted to go down to your room and take care of your ex but he knew Bucky had done enough damage already. You needed him more anyways. 

You pulled away from Tony and was about to say something until Bruce came in. He had a few cuts on his face and you knew the mission must’ve been tough since he was fighting along with them. Guilt surfaced.

“I’m sorry to interrupt, but do you need… Did he.. Are you-” It was hard for him to ask if you were hurt or needed help, so you just nodded. Tony and Bruce then escorted you to the medical room. You remained quiet and so did they. The atmosphere was too fragile for speaking. But you knew you’d have to sooner or later.

Bruce checked out your arms, applying gentle pressure until you winced at the pain. He told you there was bruising but thankfully nothing was broken from what he felt. After that, he set you up to take some x-rays. He jotted everything down on your clipboard. He has one for everybody; saving the world and its people comes with broken bones and wounds. 

You could detect a change in Bruce as you walked out from behind the machine. “You have a broken rib on your left side.” He walked you over to the photos of your x-rays. He pointed it out and your stomach sank as you bowed your head and bit the inside of your lips. 

He looked at you, sighing. “So, two weeks ago, on the mission when you-” You nodded your head. You were arguing with your boyfriend about some guy hitting on you at a bar that night. It wasn’t your fault yet you suffered the consequences by being slammed into your dresser. Your excuse was a guard kicking you during a mission the next day.

“It was him.” He breathed out, looking back at your x-rays. The sound of the door slamming shut made you flinch - though nearly everything did. You thought it was him coming after you, but you saw Tony marching away through the glass doors. He was still angry, probably blaming himself for not noticing this before.

“I’m gonna go talk to him.” You quietly excused yourself and Bruce nodded, giving you a tight lipped smile. Your mind was racing with thoughts as you followed after your brother. Where would your ex go? Is Bucky okay? Did Steve get him away before he killed your ex? Will everyone judge you for staying when they find out?

Your thoughts were silenced when you arrived at the common room. Tony and Bucky were talking and you stood in your spot, eavesdropping. “He’s definitely getting locked up. I don’t want him anywhere near her ever again.” Bucky was breathing heavily and Tony hummed in agreement. 

“I wish she would’ve come to me. I could’ve stopped this.” Tony sounded sad now, his anger leaving his body as he thought about it. Bucky sighed and you peeked around, seeing him lay his hand on Tony’s shoulder. “Look, none of us would’ve known. It’s not your fault or hers.”

Your eyes burned with tears and you left before you were seen. You didn’t feel guilty for not telling them, they knew you couldn’t. In a situation like that, nobody could really know what would happen if you tried to leave. The first time you did, you had to pack on make-up to hide a black eye. You thought staying was the safest option - you were wrong. But leaving wasn’t so easily done.

You asked Friday to let everyone know you needed to be alone for a few hours to clear your mind. As you entered your room, your eyes went straight to the huge hole in the wall. It would need to be replaced but that was the least of your worries right now.

Taking a deep breath, you walked out onto your balcony. It was slightly windy and you looked out across the area, the sound of the city below calmed your nerves only slightly. The sun was setting and you felt a small wave of peace. You were finally free from him and the torment. But not entirely. 

The door opened suddenly and you were immediately alert, the hair on your arms standing up straight. “It’s me.” Bucky could see your tensed muscles and he kicked himself for it. Had your ex not done those things to you, you wouldn’t be so scared with someone enters a room, or when you hear someone yelling or slamming something. Noises like that terrified you.

Bucky walked up beside you, watching the city bustle with cars and people. He looked down at his hands, all clean from the blood from earlier, some from the mission and some from your ex. You could hear his breathing, it was ragged and shallow. He looked back out towards the city and everything was blurry now from his tears.

“How long?” His whisper mixed with the wind but you caught it. You swallowed thickly. “Two years.” Your voice was barely over a whisper and you could see Bucky slump his shoulders from your peripheral. “Why?” His voice shook and your eyes filled with tears yet again. 

“He said he loved me.” Your lip trembled and you shook your head, not seeing how untrue those words were until now. Bucky clenched his jaw, glancing at your face. Oh how he wished he hadn’t because it made him want to have his hands around your ex’s neck again. It took everything in him not to leave and go finish it.

“I was so scared to say anything. I thought that…that maybe the first time was just an accident.” Your voice cracked and Bucky pulled you into his body and held you close. He was shaking with anger, his eyes shut tightly as he imagined the things your ex did to you. Holding you was his anchor right now.

Bucky pressed his lips to your head and you leaned further into him. “Y/N, you’ll never have to see him again. That was not love. I’m so sorry you had to go through that.” He whispered in your ear, his voice full of certainty and sadness.

You nodded against his chest and sighed. “I feel so stupid, Bucky. He-he wanted me to leave and I didn’t want to, I couldn’t. Then like every time we argue, he just lost it. I feel so weak.” You sniffled and gripped Bucky’s shirt tightly, as if he’d disappear and you were just dreaming and you’d wake up next to your ex, trapped in fear.

Bucky pulled away and let his flesh hand hold your cheek as softly as he could. “God, Y/N, no. No, you are not weak. Don’t say that, not around me, not ever. H-he could’ve killed you.” His voice cracked this time, his blue eyes pooling with tears. The longer Bucky stared into your eyes, he realized just how much he wanted to show you what love really is. But not yet. He could only protect you for now. 

“Dammit, I could kill him. You deserve so much more, Y/N. If you’ll let me, I’ll protect you with my life. I won’t let anyone hurt you ever again.” Bucky’s thumb caressed your skin and a tear fell down his cheek. You nodded, letting out a sob as you pulled Bucky in for a hug. His arms held you close and tight, blocking you from everything.

 For once in your life, you actually felt safe. 


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he’s the beauty; she’s the beast

so i’m sure the remake of a timeless classic that disney is about to roll out is going to be great and all

but here’s another way we could do things:

he’s the beauty

she’s the beast

for a movie who’s central theme is inner beauty, it doesn’t really do anything to support that, you know? so how about this: adam, our prince turned beast, isn’t an inhospitable monster. because this back story doesn’t make any sense – why is the young prince of this land alone, in a castle, only to be caught unaware by a witch?

so how about this – this is pseudo france, right, so these royals do what their real life counterparts did. they flee. the cruel, greedy king and queen flee and leave their young son behind with their staff. their son who is kind and soft hearted and totally unfit to rule any kingdom (never mind that they’re literally running away from their own people). not only that – they trade their son for their freedom, trade their kingdom for their freedom. to the witch.

so the witch comes, and she doesn’t disguise herself as a crone, goes to him looking as lovely and young as her magic keeps her. but our prince adam has a talent, one many cast-aside, neglected children have developed – the ability to see people for who they really are, and he knows this is no kind young woman in need of his help. he refuses to let her in – and there’s this little twist to the magic, that she can only enter the palace grounds and claim her prize if she’s welcomed in a as a guest, and he, the young master of this castle, won’t let her in.

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It’s all about trust

So I’m loving the posts going around really digging into the details of Season 2 and I’d like to add one of my own that I haven’t seen covered yet.  Let’s talk about this:

This is one of the first times we see Shiro talking to his lion since the end of season 1 and its not at all the way we’ve seen the other Paladins talk to theirs so far.  To be fair, we’re skipping ahead in the conversation, which started out very much as a ‘we’ve got some work to do’ (implied ‘together’;) but it escalates to this point pretty quickly.  *side note?  Shiro is the only one not shown talking to his lion after the team comes out of the corrupted wormhole and crash lands on their respective planets/nebulas.  Maybe he does, but we get no indication of it the way we did with the others and I think that’s deliberate of the show writers.*  In season 1, we saw that Shiro had, possibly, the strongest bond with his lion in the flying blind incident so how did we get to the point where Shiro’s voice actually holds panic when he’s talking to his lion now?

That’s the easy part, really.  We all remember this scene.

Shiro basically gets kicked out of his own lion and, Zarkon controlled or not, it would be very hard for him to not feel as if the lion itself was, if not actively participating, at least complacent in the act.  This isn’t just a mindless mechanical response - it looks like a rejection of him as a pilot and as the pilot of the Black Lion.  Now we need to consider Shiro’s state of mind for a moment to understand just how deeply this would effect him.  For an entire year of his life, he hasn’t been treated as though he had any intrinsic worth at all.  He’s been a piece of meat, entertainment fodder, a pawn, a toy, a commodity.  He has had his physical and mental state forceably changed against his will.  All the things that probably make up what he considers himself have been ignored or outright mowed right over.  And he remembers just enough to know that - and not enough to know how deep the damage or the alien change inside of him has gone.  He’s someone that’s struggling to rebuild his sense of self, to figure out who he is and what his worth is and its not hard to suppose that his place as team leader, Black paladin and pilot of his lion are stones he’s been building a lot of his new foundation on.  ‘Defenders of the Universe, huh? It has a nice ring to it’ he says as everyone else is quietly freaking out over the concept.  This gives Shiro purpose, this assures him he’s still worth something, this helps tell him who he is beyond slave, gladiator, experiment.

And this has just summarily rejected him in favor of a universe crushing tyrant.

(this got long, have a ‘read more’ to spare your dash)

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Concept: Magnus gets the idea to train service dogs from watching his friends struggle with PTSD after destroying the Hunger.

Sure, the world is saved and everything is at peace and the entire IPRE crew gets happy endings.  But the events of the past year, past ten years, past one hundred years don’t just go away because you’re at peace.  In real life, it’s when you get out of the shitty, surviving day-to-day situations that you realize you haven’t been coping, just…managing.  It’s then that your survival mechanisms keep going because you’ve needed them for so long, but there’s nothing to survive.

It’s been implied that Taako has trouble with nightmares within the podcast, so imagine him finally settling down, opening up his magic school, reunited with his sister and brother-in-law and in a nice, stable relationship with a sweet boyfriend…but he still has nightmares.  Maybe they’re even worse now, since he can remember the stolen century.

Not to mention, I think he and Lup will have this sort of borderline co-dependent relationship for a while, particularly on Taako’s part.  Lup…well, it’s hard to say she was with Taako, exactly, but she wasn’t without him.  And she never lost him.  It’s also canon that Taako hates being alone, most likely because he knows he isn’t supposed to be.

So Taako is living his life, making public appearances, eating up the attention as he is wont to do, and then at night, he’s got these nightmares.  While I imagine that Kravitz, Lup, and Barry aren’t the only reapers, I do imagine that they keep odd hours and there are times when they are all busy.  So now he has sleepless, lonely nights, spent worrying about his family.

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Carousel | 07

Playlist | 01 | 02 | 03 | 04 | 05 | 06 | 07 | 08 | 09

➤ Character: Min Yoongi x reader

➤ Genre/words: Arranged Marriage! AU, Smut, Angst / 16,742 words

➤ Summary: He is the successor of his family’s business empire, and you are the female heir of yours. After the trouble his older brother had created in the past, he now must face certain requirements needed for the sake of the family’s future and to save his rights of inheritance, and you become his only way out. Everything might seem so simple, just the way they are supposed to. But everything isn’t always what it seems, is it?

➤ Warning: Mentions of death, major character death, smut/mature scene


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anonymous asked:

can we get some hcs for soft boy richie??

YESS HES SUCH A FUCKING SOFT BOY

(thank you @eddiesbadbreak and @stanleyuriis for some of the HCs ily)

- God, Richie is such a hopeless romantic underneath all the bullshit he spews.

- Richie is starved for attention and affection at home, which often makes him question whether he deserves that at all. So he craves attention so much, especially from Eddie.

- When they’re not bickering or joking around, Richie is so sweet with Eddie. But he definitely has to be in that mood. When Eddie is affectionate with him, calls him pet names or says that he loves Richie, Richie pretty much crumbles.

- Tbh the first time Eddie says “I love you”, Richie almost tears up because like… no one says that to him. It means more than anything because someone actually loves him and he loves them back and it’s all so amazing.

- He’s pretty sensitive, especially when it comes to his insecurities and his family situation. He totally does not show it often though, and the only people that know the true extent of how he’s feeling inside are Eddie and Bev.

- Richie is SUCH a cuddler, and often likes to be the one cuddled. He loves being the little spoon or being the one to rest his head on Eddie’s chest instead of the other way around. He loves laying with his head on Eddie’s lap when they’re with the other Losers.

- If Eddie runs his fingers through his hair, he melts instantly. He loves that shit.

- In general, he loves being taken care of by Eddie. He’s never had anyone take care of him before, so if Eddie ever acts that way it makes Richie so happy. It makes Eddie happy too because he’s always the one being babied, so he loves being on the other side especially because he just… cares so much and has so much love to give to Richie?

- Like one time Eddie packs Richie lunch for school and Richie’s like !!! This is what true bliss is. He’s smiling all day from this small gesture.

- It’s so canon that Richie keeps a spare inhaler for Eddie.

- Any time anyone laughs at his jokes it makes him SO happy. He feels awesome if people actually think he’s funny.

- Also if anyone compliments him, he’ll brush it off or make a joke out of it but everyone can always see how happy and mushy that makes him as well. He feels so valid when he feels like the people he loves love him back.

- Secretly when no one’s there, Richie and Eddie are SO fucking cheesy with each other omg. They call each other pet names. Besides the typical “Eds” or “Eddie Spaghetti” that Richie calls Eddie, he also very often calls him “babe” (which Eddie loves), or he’ll get real creative and call him absurd things like “Snicker Doodle” or “Cuddle Muffin” (which Eddie hates)

- Eddie will often call Richie “Rich”, “Red” or “Sweetie” and Richie dies every time he always gets butterflies in his stomach

- They go on cheesy dates a lot of the time: Stargazing, Rollerblading, even sharing a milkshake with two straws. A lot of the time though, the two like spending the whole day being lazy and staying in bed and eating junk food.

- Richie is super gentle with Eddie, but Eddie is also super gentle with Richie? Especially if Richie is upset, Eddie is so patient with him and will stay up comforting him all night if that’s what he wants. They’re just really careful with each other.

- Bev sometimes paints his nails and Richie really likes the way they look. He usually only lets her do one hand, though.

- Richie also loves when Bev puts hair clips in his hair to push his bangs back. She did it for the first time when making Richie do a face mask with her, but after Richie said he thought it looked really cute she continued.

- He even started doing it to keep his bangs out of his eyes when he was doing work at home. Eddie thinks it’s the cutest thing ever. Richie also loves headbands.

- Richie has THE LONGEST LASHES and SO MANY FRECKLES HE’S JUST SO PRETTY

- In general, Richie is actually so caring with his friends? I mean of course, he’ll roast and make fun of them to the moon and back but in reality they’re the most important people in his life and he would die for any one of them any day.

- No one would expect it, but he always remembers birthdays and anniversaries. He writes such long cards for all the Losers whenever it’s their birthday, talking about why he thinks each of them individually is awesome and making long lists of all the inside jokes they have together.

- He also is the best gift giver. His gifts are so thoughtful even if they’re small. He remembers what people told him they wanted months ago, or he gives them gifts that have to do with inside jokes. Things that only he could gift.

- Richie always stands up for any of the Losers without even a second thought. After Henry and his gang are gone, it’s rare for them to get bullied, especially in High School. If they ever do, it’s all verbal. They don’t really get beat up anymore. But if anyone is being a dick to any of his friends, he ALWAYS stands up to them and isn’t afraid to cuss them out, even if it means him getting detention.

- He also comforts them after they get picked on. Even underclassmen he doesn’t know. If he sees a freshman getting picked on, he’ll tell the bully to fuck off and smile so wide at the kid, telling them they’re okay!

- Tbh everyone in High School LOVES him. They think he can be kinda annoying sometimes, but he’s a genuinely good guy and he’s super funny.

- Richie is that cheesy boyfriend that picks flowers to give to Eddie. They also put flowers in each other’s long hair and Richie takes a million pictures.

- Richie saves and pressed into a book the flowers that Eddie got him after the opening night of the school musical he was starring in. His heart skipped a beat when Eddie brought him flowers and told him how amazing he was.

- As adults, Richie is so caring about Eddie especially after dealing with losing his arm. He’s so accommodating and supporting and just loves Eddie so much. After he knows Eddie is okay, all he wants is to have a happy life with him.

- As an adult, Eddie also calls Richie “Reggie” because of one time where another radio host introduced him as “Reggie Tozier.” Like you don’t even know how funny this was to Eddie. It made him tear up from laughter for like a full week after it happened, so to tease him sometimes Eddie will call him that. Richie acts like it pisses him off but he thinks it’s pretty funny himself.

- Richie’s the type of husband that comes home with flowers and is like “BAAAABE I GOT YOU FLOWERS AREN’T I THE BEST HUSBAND EVER”

- Holy shit Richie is SUCH a softie when it comes to him marrying Eddie and later when they adopt/surrogate children. Richie cries for half the wedding and then after they get their kids he tears up like EVERY damn day about it.

- He’s just so happy to actually have a family? For once in his life? Like HE built this. It’s HIS family. He gets to come home every day to such happiness it’s like unreal to him it makes him get choked up.

- BEFORE THEIR FIRST KID ARRIVES RICHIE CANNOT STOP TALKING ABOUT HOW CUTE BABY SHOES ARE.

- HE BUYS SO MANY PAIRS OF BABY SHOES THEY’RE SO SMALL THERES NO WAY THEIR CHILD’S FOOT WILL BE THAT SMALL CAN ANYTHING EVEN BE THAT SMALL??

- BUT THEN IT IS THAT SMALL AND ITS AMAZING HE LOVES IT.

- Even as adults Richie and Eddie always go on such nice dates. They never get sick of being together, especially since they feel like they have to make up for so much lost time. When they’re back together as adults it feels like falling in love all over again except this time they can actually be together and it makes Richie thank God for real.

- It’s so fucking important for Richie to be a good dad since he knows what it’s like to have horrible parents. He just wants to do what’s right.

- Overall Richie is such a sweetheart under all those dick jokes. He’s so fucking soft and good. That’s all.

anonymous asked:

Dr Who but each incarnation is swapped with one of their companions.

omg?? I love it??

The First Doctor: 

She’s not completely unfriendly, exactly, she just doesn’t have time for humans being idiots. In the right circumstances, she can actually be very warm. She loves history, which is lucky because her granddaughter Susan does too (they tell people Susan is her daughter, but even then it’s a bit of a stretch, human ages are weird). Of course, then two of Susan’s teachers follow her home one night, and next thing the Doctor knows she has a crotchety old history teacher and a handsome young science teacher on her spaceship with no way to get rid of them that isn’t morally questionable. 

Whoops? 

The humans help her lose some of her haughtiness. She leaves Susan in the 22nd century to become her own woman. 

Along the way and against her better judgement, she falls hopelessly for Ian Chesterton. He wants to stay with her forever, but she knows it would never work, and encourages him to go with John Foreman in the Dalek Time Machine to get back to his own time. 

Later, in other lives, she checks in on him occasionally. 

The Second Doctor:

The baby face is a problem. It takes a good twenty minutes on a lot of occasions to get anyone to take her seriously. On the bright side, a lot of Polly’s clothes fit her now. 

She finds a best friend in Scotsman Jamie McCrimmon, whose rather naive approach to futuristic technology is extremely refreshing, as is his unique insightfulness. 

After Ben and Polly leave them, they rescue Victoria, who Jamie is utterly taken with. Victoria is unsure about living a life so unsupervised by someone older and won’t listen to the Doctor’s insistence that she is in fact perfectly qualified to look after them all. 

She and Victoria spend a good many nights aboard the TARDIS talking about women’s history and the things to come for women in the future and how women act on other planets. Victoria is fascinated, occasionally horrified, and often quietly thrilled at the things she learns. 

It’s a shame to see her go, but all she ever wanted was a family and security, and the Doctor can’t provide that. 

They meet an eccentric man on a space station, with funny trousers and an obsession with the recorder. The Doctor and Jamie like him instantly, and invite him on board only to learn that the man had been considering stowing away if not invited. 

The Time Lords take her friends away from her. She is forced to regenerate and exiled to Earth, as punishment for her interference. 

The Third Doctor: 

Shrewd, passionately devoted to science, and not one to take kindly to interruptions or anyone trying to talk down to or even disagree with her, it’s a wonder the Doctor even gets hired by UNIT at all. But then again, beggars can’t be choosers. 

On the bright side, this fellow John Smith from Cambridge seems to be the one person around with an actual brain and not just a penchant for attacking first and thinking later. 

They’re friends instantly. Or, they are once she makes it perfectly clear that she is the cleverer of the two. The look on his face when he realises is a memory she’ll treasure forever. 

He eventually leaves to go back to his own research, upon realising she doesn’t need him. 

It’s a shame and she misses him, but then Jo Grant comes into her life. Despite an awful first impression, the two women are soon fiercely devoted to each other. Jo keeps going on about women having to stick together amongst all the army boys, and while the Doctor could usually not care less about gender politics, if it means Jo hangs around her more, then so be it. 

The Master turns up. It’s exhausting and exasperating and oh so much fun

Meanwhile, the Doctor’s told herself to not let herself fall for humans, after how much Ian hurt. But with Jo, it’s impossible not to. (Not that she hasn’t noticed the Brigadier’s lingering stares, or failed to appreciate him in his uniform. But he’s far too professional to ever do anything, and too trigger happy besides.) 

Jo is like sunshine and she’s always there and smiling and pressing herself against the Doctor out of fear or shock, until one day they’re in the supply closet of a spaceship and they’re kissing furiously instead of listening out for their pursuers. 

It’s wonderful, being with Jo. Until Clive Jones comes along, and the Doctor has to tell her to forget about her and marry the nice young man who can grow old with her and give her the life she wants. 

She drinks more champagne than she is proud of that night. 

Luckily, along comes Sarah Jane Smith, who is exactly the kind of human that the Doctor automatically adores. Inquisitive, sharp, and a vocal feminist. What a woman. 

Of course, then giant alien spiders happen, and it’s time for a change.  

The Fourth Doctor:

Or… not. Apparently, she’s doomed to be young, attractive, humanoid, and pale skinned throughout all her lives. There are worse fates, but she wouldn’t mind a little variety, frankly. And being so small is getting infuriating. 

Harry takes a long while to take her seriously, but once he does, he is steadfastly loyal. Sarah Jane takes the regeneration in stride for the most part. 

And after them, Leela, who is so strange and savage but so utterly charming in her honesty. They share a few kisses, but nothing more. 

Then comes Romana. A young Time Lord who looks older than her, is far taller than is sensible, and has an even more absurd grin. She can’t stand him, with his bragging about his grades and thinking he knows everything. 

She soon teaches him that experience wins every time. 

Of course, then he spots some pretty princess on Tara, and next thing she knows, the moment the whole Key To Time mess is sorted, Romana is now a less taller, less ridiculous, utterly beautiful Time Lady in her first regeneration. 

She tries to argue against what she can only consider body theft, or at least copying, but it is a relief to not have to crane her neck up to speak to her companion. 

Romana becomes a most dear friend. She’s missed being around someone like her, someone who understands. It makes it all the worse when she leaves, leaving the Doctor with only Adric and his incessant questions. 

The Fifth Doctor: 

There’s something about this body, a regality, that commands a little more respect than the ones before it, despite it following the pattern of her others. 

Adric’s questions exasperate her, while Tegan’s demands to be taken home are met with gentle requests for patience and promises of Heathrow airport, and this Traken prince she’s picked up is thankfully one of the most polite people she’s ever had in the TARDIS. Decent brain on him, too. 

Tegan’s smile sometimes makes her stomach do backflips. The Doctor ignores it. She’s learned her lesson. It’s almost a relief to see Tegan reach her breaking point and leave, except it isn’t, because for a long while it feels like a part of her is missing. 

Turlough is a curiosity, but a nice one who makes for surprisingly good company in the absence of the others. 

Perpugilliam Brown is a surprise. The Doctor remembers why she has tried to avoid America where possible in her travels. Americans are loud. But in the case of Peri, it involves shouting at the Master, and as such, the Doctor decides that Perpugilliam Brown can stay as long as she likes. 

Between the two of them and soon Erimem, uncrowned Pharaoh of Egypt, they make quite the team.  


The Sixth Doctor:

It’s about time! Finally, a more weathered model. Peri is surprised to say the least, and seems a little disappointed to lose out on her best friend who had until now looked a very similar age to her, but soon realises very little has changed. 

And now she lets the Doctor take care of her a bit better. Thank goodness for that! The maternal instincts in this body are absurdly strong, she has no idea what she would do if she couldn’t express them. 

Now, the borderline narcissistic but quietly lovable history professor she accidentally picks up some time after losing Peri is a trickier matter. Still, at least he shares her love for chocolate cake. 

The Seventh Doctor: 

Bright, bubbly, and able to get most people to like her within ten seconds. Now this is a regeneration she likes. Plus, her most impressive set of lungs yet. Handy, for calling companions who like to wander off. 

She tries to not encourage Ace’s use of explosives, but it’s difficult when she sees how genuinely happy they make the girl. She’s getting soft in her old age, she knows. 

Still, at least her brain makes up for it. She can out-think a computer, easily. The universe is her chessboard and she’ll do whatever the hell she pleases with it. 

The Eighth Doctor: 

She’s a jolly thing. Always keen for adventure, ready to shout at anyone who deserves it, and just wants to have a good time, really. 

After a rather rocky start involving amnesia and kissing the cardiologist who had caused her regeneration in the first place, the Doctor is just minding her own business when she accidentally messes with history. 

It seems that saving this stowaway on the R101 might not have been the best idea after all. But he’s so charming and sweet and genuine, sharing her utter passion for life, that by the time she realises her mistake, she’s not willing to part with him. 

That goes… about as well as one might expect. 

The Ninth Doctor: 

It’s funny, being a weathered old war veteran with a guilty conscience, and simultaneously looking like someone who could be on the front of a magazine. 

Life is hard, after the time war, but she meets a man with big ears and blue eyes and things get better. A lot better. It feels good to smile again. 

The addition of Captain Jack Harkness is an interesting one, but she’s always said the more the merrier. Their other companion is not quite as happy about this development, but before long they’re the best of friends. 

The Tenth Doctor: 

She’s gentler now, somehow. Oh, she has her anger and her snark, and boy does this body have a set of lungs on her. But she’s so much softer, underneath. 

Losing her friends from her last body takes its toll. She at least manages to avoid comparing Martha to them that came before her. Martha is wonderful, always completing even the most impossible tasks that the Doctor puts to her. They part on good terms, after the Master’s ravaging of the Earth. (The Master had not been so impressed with this version of her. He had trouble seeing the strength within, seeing that she was more than the duality of compassion and shouting.) Martha needs to look after her family, and that’s probably for the best. 

And then there’s the skinny idiot in the suit. He actually talks faster than she does, which is absurd, but she wonders if that’s simply because of his questionable family. Perhaps not letting them get a word in is how he survives. 

Either way, they get along like a house on fire. Losing him, wiping his memory and seeing him stare right through her and smile that stupid smile, is almost enough to break her. 

No more companions, she swears. 


The Eleventh Doctor: 

It’s all about fun, now. Impressing the little boy whose garden she crashes in and then impressing him when he’s grown up and has waited 14 years for her. (To hell with her rule about no more companions. Her old self was full of dumb ideas anyway.) 

Oh yes, she likes Rory Williams a lot. And his best friend John isn’t bad either. Mind you, that nose… 

She has her spaceship, and her boys, and life is good. Well, there’s River Song to worry about, but she can never be sure if the archaeologist is more interested in her or John. Just one more mystery, it seems. 

Losing Rory, and then John, is hard. But she knows that they’re happy, and that’s enough. 

The Twelfth Doctor:

Short, bossy, a control freak, and a slight obsession with tartan. Also, her English teacher companion is secretly a rock star wannabe, disguised as a reclusive Scottish nerd. 

What’s a girl to do? 

(Apparently, find out that her best enemy is alive, and now also female. And Scottish like her companion. The first kiss had been… shocking to say the least. The ones after, against her better judgement, decidedly less so.) 

She cares about her companion more than she will ever say, and when faced with losing him, takes things too far. Further than anyone should ever take anything. And when it is all said and done… she can’t remember his face, or his voice, or how he sounded when he mocked how large her eyes were. 

River is there to comfort her, though, in those 24 years on Darillium. 

And then Bill. Brilliant Bill. Oh yes, they make quite the team. And Nardole helps sometimes too. 

Send me an AU and I’ll expand on it! 

spiritworldly  asked:

( whispers quietly ) eros & psyche ?

Aphrodite can’t get comfortable during her pregnancy. She’s always too hot, constantly sweating whether she’s in the in the oppressive heat at the bottom of the volcano, or in the icy air at the top of it. It makes no difference. No matter where she goes or what she does, she can’t find any relief. Hephaestus hovers over her, wringing his hands and leaning his head against her stomach. Her distended skin is too warm to the touch, and both of them can’t help but worry about their child that grows inside her.

They beg help from Artemis, who has no help to give them. “The child is healthy,” she tells them, mystified. “The mother is healthy, though pained. I can do nothing for you because there is nothing to be done.”

Time passes. The child is born. They call him Eros.

He burns.

~

He warms in Artemis’s hands as she cleans him and Aphrodite eagerly waits to be handed her son. Artemis cries out and has to put him down, blisters appearing on his hands. Aphrodite moves to pick him up, and she can stand his heat for longer, but after a few minutes he leaves a welt of burnt flesh against her chest. Hephaestus tries next, and manages to hold his son for a whole quarter of an hour before his skin is eaten away.

Artemis can do nothing. She insists there’s nothing wrong with him, it’s just how he is. Hephaestus crafts gloves of flexible metal so they can care for him – the babe’s fire reacts to the warmth of another person. Clothes and objects remain unburned. They go to Hermes, to Apollo, to Hestia, and none can help them. Hestia tries to hold the child. She is the keeper of celestial fire, which burns hotter than anything, yet she too comes away burned. “The celestial fire is of me, and so it cannot harm me,” she tells them regretfully, “Eros is not, and so he can.”

No one can help them.

Eros cries, constantly unhappy because he longs to be held and rocked, longs for the warmth of his parents but they can only give him snatches of affections, stolen moments before he burns them and they must retreat behind cool metal.

Aphrodite is desperate. She sneaks away to Mount Olympus, goes against her husband’s wishes and goes to Hera. She’s crying as she speaks, and Hera watches her with cool, impassive eyes. “There is nothing wrong with your son,” she says. “He is as he was made to be. If you cannot provide the care he needs, find someone who can.”

Aphrodite stares, betrayed. Hera has been kind to her in the past, was the one who helped her choose her husband when all of Olympus sought her hand. Aphrodite is a daughter of Zeus, but not of another woman, and so Hera hadn’t hated her.

Hera loses some of her sternness. “I have given you the answer you need, if not the one you wanted. Return to you child and husband.”

She goes.

She tells Hephaestus where she went, and instead of angry he becomes contemplative.

~

Ares is blood soaked and exhausted when his brother appears beside him in the middle of a battlefield. “Hephaestus,” he greets, startled, “Is something wrong?”

“I need your help,” says the man who had never once asked him for anything, “I know it hurts to leave, but–”

Ares shakes his head, “There will always be another war. What do you need?”

~

He can wield the lightning bolts of Zeus and he takes bathes in lava to soothe the ache of his muscles. Ares is not bothered by heat or flame because it passes through him, he manages to do these things because he absorbs their heat instead of being harmed by it.

He’s in his brother’s bed, holding his nephew, and Eros gives him a gap-toothed little grin from where he’s splaying out against his chest, skin against skin. “Cute kid,” he yawns. Hephaestus is on one side of him, and Aphrodite on the other.

Ares leeches most of the heat from Eros, so he’s cool enough to touch, so his parents can pat his back and kiss his forehead. “Thank you,” Hephaestus says, finally able to touch his son without consequence.

“Anytime,” Ares says, eyes sliding shut.

With his brother’s family curled around him, Ares finds enough calm to sleep.

~

When Eros is older, he learns to control it. He always runs hot, but by the time he’s gotten big enough that the cyclopses are constantly chasing him in fear of him getting into something he shouldn’t, he’s learned to regulate his temperature to the point he doesn’t burn anyone any more.

Or at least, he doesn’t burn any gods anymore. No matter how hard he tries, he’s too hot for any mortal to touch unharmed.

Before that, Ares spends every moment away from the battlefield with Eros that he can. He’s not always able to sleep, but he lies down with Eros on top him and with Aphrodite and Hephaestus on either side.

Rumors run rampant, like they always do. People say Eros is the product of a union between Ares and Aphrodite, they say that Aphrodite has been cheating on her husband since the moment they married.

“I’m sorry,” Ares says, face pinched.

Hephaestus smiles, and Ares relaxes. “You are only doing what I’ve asked of you. There’s nothing to apologize for.”

Ares can’t help but feel guilty anyway.

~

Eros grows, from a toddler to a man. He burns, a wide laughing mouth and eyes like the sun. When he’s declared the god of passion, no one is surprised.

He has the best features of both his parents, and is devastatingly beautiful, with a face that Helen herself would weep over. He is the son of the goddess of love and the god of craftsmanship, and passion is necessary for both.

Passion is many things. There is passion in love, and he goads many a shy couple into a desperate embrace. There is passion in war, and when the battlefield grows stilted and tired he joins his favorite uncle there and brings their energy to the fore. There is passion in academia, and Eros encourages many scholars who spend long nights seeking answers they may never find. There is passion in art, and he blesses uninspired artists to create their heart’s desire.

Passion is a quickening heartbeat, a want that must be sated, a determination to follow through. It is burning until you are nothing more than ash simply because the fire is too beautiful to put out.

Eros is a favorite among the gods, because so much of what he does benefits them. He quickens the pulse of a people, and they use that energy to do great deeds in the gods’ names.

He is beautiful and powerful and loved. He wants for nothing, until –

- until his mother sends him to help a village girl who has been praying to her for months.

Eros sees Psyche, and instantly knows the weight of love in his chest.

~

Psyche is beautiful.

She knows this, it is the one thing about herself that she knows. All her life people tell her this, when she’s a babbling baby and a little girl and a fully grown woman, it’s what people say to her.

Men come to her seeking her hand, crossing borders and monsters to end up at her door. “I have no dowry,” she tells them, “I cannot cook, I am a poor seamstress, I have never cleaned a home.”

“I do not care,” they all tell her, with their greedy eyes and their greedy hands, “You are beautiful.”

Her mother and aunts shooed her from the kitchen as a child, saying the steam would ruin her pretty hair, wouldn’t let her sew because the needles would harden her soft hands, didn’t want her to spend hours cleaning because the she was too lovely to mar with common dirt.

Other children wouldn’t play with her, including her sisters, and soon she ran from all her tutors whose gazes made her shoulders itch. The first time someone lays tribute at her feet, like she is some sort of goddess and not a simple village girl, she runs away and locks herself in her room.  

The tributes and prayers don’t stop, and she hates them. She only wants to be like everyone else, wants to read and cook and have friends. Every night she bundles up the gifts and tributes people give her sneaks away to the temple of Aphrodite. She lays these things where they belong, with the goddess of beauty and love. “Please,” she begs, every night, “please make it all stop, revered goddess. I can’t live this way.”

She does this, for years and years, but her prayers are never answered. She sinks lower and lower, feeling confined to her home like a prisoner since she can’t leave it without flowers being thrown at her feet or someone remarking on her figure and face. Her sisters will not speak to her, and her parents will not listen to her. She eats less and spends days languishing in bed, growing weaker and more tired by the day.

One day, after turning away yet another suitor and being turned away yet again when she tries to help her mother in the kitchen, she goes far out of the village, where no will find her, where no one will be able to remark on the beauty of her corpse.

She walks to the edge of a cliff, and takes a deep breath. “Lady Aphrodite,” she whispers, “let me be ugly in my next life.”

She jumps.

~

Eros sees her falling, and bids Zephyr to save her. She is caught gently by the wind. However, she’s so weak and malnourished that the shock of not falling to her death causes her to pass into unconsciousness. He wishes he could have save her himself, that he could take her in his arms now and cradler her close to his chest.

But he burns.

If he touched her, he would harm her, so he will not.

“Take her to my home,” he says, conflicted because he has no interest in growing into either Zeus or Poseidon. But he cannot touch her, so it’s not the same. “I’ll be along shortly.”

Zephyr carries her away, far into the distance.

This is not what his mother intended when she sent him here, but he can’t leave Psyche among the mortals. If she tried to kill herself once, she’ll do it again, and then where will he be?

Eros feels heavy with love, and he does not know this girl, he does not know how this is possible unless it has been arranged by the Fates. Psyche is a beautiful girl, but he is a god. He is the son of the goddess of beauty and every other goddess he knows is comparable in the grace of their form and face. Beautiful mortals do not tempt him.

He has other things to attend to, so he puts aside the problem of Psyche so he can go convince a young noble lady to kiss the baker’s daughter.

~

Psyche wakes up, which she wasn’t expecting. What’s more, she’s not in pain. She’s being carefully deposited on soft grass by a being she can’t see. “Where am I?” she cries. She doesn’t think this is the afterlife. She’s on top of a large mountain, and a large, gorgeous home with marble columns sits on the edge.

There is an edge. She can still jump. She takes one hesitant step closer when a strong gust of wind pushes her back and something like a voice says, This is the home of a god, do not desecrate this place with your blood.

“Okay,” she says, a mixture of relief and fear clogging her throat, “Can I – can I go inside? It’s cold out here.”

The wind pushes her towards the home, so she takes that as permission.

It’s all marble and gold and fur, perfectly decorated and with many rooms and interesting things. But Psyche finds the bedroom, and in between the long journey outside of her village and the adrenaline of being caught by the wind and brought here, she’s exhausted. She climbs onto the soft bed without thinking, and is asleep the moment her head touches the pillow.

~

The moon is high in the sky by the time Eros returns home. He steps inside, and doesn’t light any of the torches out of fear of startling the girl. He finds her in his own bedroom, and only has a moment to stare at her silhouette against his white blankets before she’s stirring, pushing herself up looking around the room. Her eyes aren’t as good as his, so she can’t even see the outlines of objects. To her, it is complete darkness. “Who’s there?” she demands, voice scratchy from sleep, “What do you want?”

“I am a friend,” he says, not saying his name. He knows the impression mortals have of him, and the last thing she needs to hear is that he’s the god of passion while she lies helpless before him in his bed. “The wind brought you here because you threw yourself from the cliff face. Why would you do that?”

She sits up and pulls her knees to her chest. “I don’t want to talk to about it.”

He sighs, but doesn’t push. “I’m not here to make you do anything you don’t want to do.”

“What are you here to do?” she asks, “Why am I here?”

She sounds sad, and scared, and he wishes he could touch her. He wishes he could take her hands and kiss her forehead, but he can’t, not without hurting her. “I think it would be best if you stayed with me, for a while. Until you no longer find cliffs so tempting. I have a beautiful home, and am often gone while attending to my duties, so feel free to make full use of it.”

“What do you get out of it?” she demands.

He smiles, wry, and knows she cannot see it. “I suppose I could use a housekeeper.”

He meant it as a joke, but she perks up at the words. “A housekeeper? Really?”

“If you like,” he says, although there are nature sprites who tend to his home for him if necessary. “I apologize, we’ve been speaking in the dark this whole time. I’ll light the lanterns.”

He moves to do so, a flicker of flame already appearing on his fingertips when she screams, “NO! DON’T!”

Eros freezes. “Psyche?”

“You can’t look at me,” she says desperately, “Please. Not – not ever. If you saw me, you wouldn’t be so nice to me. I – I want you to be nice to me. Don’t light the lanterns.”

“Never?” he asks, and he’s already seen her from afar, he knows what she looks like. But it sounds as if she’s seconds away from away from crying, and it seems like it would only be a cruelty to tell her this now.

“Never,” she says, “please. Please.”

Staying away from home during the day is a small thing, what with his parent’s volcano always open to him, and he can see well enough in the darkness that he’s not in any danger of tripping over his own feet. “Very well, Psyche. If that’s what you want. We will only meet in darkness, and I shall never see your face.”

~

Psyche takes his offhand comment about housekeeping seriously. She’s never cleaned before, but she’s seen it done, it’s simple if not easy. The first time her hands blister and crack she can’t stop smiling for the rest of the day. She spends her days cleaning, and at first that takes up all her time. She’s unpracticed, and slow, and she falls into the same bed utterly exhausted. It leaves her no time to dwell on the life she left behind, or the hollow ache below her breastbone.

It’s hard work, and it leaves her ravenous. Before, she ate almost nothing and slept most of the day away. She doesn’t do that here, can’t, has more of an appetite than she’s had since she was a child. Nymphs bring food to the home, fruits and vegetables, bread and cheese and meat. At first she makes only simple meals, but as the cleaning takes less and less time she finds herself trying more things. Cooking is harder to get the hang of than cleaning.

Her friend comes to her at night, slipping into her room. She always knows when he’s there, even if she’s deep in sleep, and will wake up to speak to him. Psyche never leaves the bed, and he never comes from across the room. She sits up and listens to his voice, of the people he saw and things he did. She tells him the same, even though at first she thinks he does not care. But he does, because he asks her questions and compliments her on polishing the floors until they shine. One night after a particularly bad failure, the first thing he does is ask, “Did you try and burn down my kitchen, Psyche?”

He’s laughing, so she throws a pillow at him, and is satisfied by the dull thud of it hitting true and his laughter growing louder. “If I had tried I would have succeeded, and you would have come home to an ash pile.”

“Then I’m pleased by your restraint,” he says, and she scowls at him even though he can’t see it. “What was that horrible smell supposed to me?”

“Lamb,” she says, sighing. “I don’t think I’m a very good cook.”

“Perhaps not. Why don’t you try doing something else? What else do you enjoy?” he asks.

She sits cross legged on the bed and frowns. “I don’t know,” she says finally, “I’m a poor artist and a worse singer. I have no eye for needlework. I like knowing things, but I’m not a fan of learning. I – I like cleaning. I like using my hands.”

“Focus on what you like. Try to do some things with your hands. The garden could use some looking after,” he suggests.

“I do have to eat,” she points out, “I might as well learn to cook.”

He snorts. “Spare both yourself and my kitchen. Don’t worry about that. Worry about the mint that’s taking over the rose bushes.”

She doesn’t know what he means until she gets up the next morning and finds a day’s worth of food waiting for her, already made and much tastier than anything she’s managed. Next to it is a book on gardening.

This, she has a knack for. It is a god’s garden, so it has always been beautiful, but under her hands it becomes even more so, flourishing and vibrant under her attentions. She plants flowers that bloom and glow at night, so that her friend may walk through the garden and be greeted by something that doesn’t slumber.

Her hands are calloused and hard, and dirt gets stuck under fingernails. Her hair is a sweaty mess and breaking at the ends, and her skin is tanned in patches, her arms and the back of neck darker than her stomach and thighs. Freckles pop up in unexpected places, on her wrists and shoulders, a single one slightly off center of her sternum.

She has never felt more beautiful.

Psyche is stronger now, food and hard work having thickened her waist and brightened her eyes. She does not fall asleep exhausted each night, but instead sits up waiting for her friend to visit her, eagerly listening to his adventures of the day and telling him of all the things she did, of the new plants she’s trying to grow and how the shrubbery is stubbornly growing in uneven heightd.

“My hands are all rough,” she tells him one night, like it’s a secret.

He doesn’t understand. “Have you tried rubbing olive oil in them?”

She laughs, and gets to her feet, confident she knows the room well enough that she won’t stumble or fall and walking towards his voice. “No, it’s a good thing, it’s never happened before. See?”

She reaches out and he shouts, “No! Don’t touch me–”

It’s too late, her hand has already blindly grabbed onto his arm. She lets go, “I’m sorry! I didn’t know–”

“We have to get you to Hermes, before the burns get too bad,” he says urgently.

Now she’s the one who doesn’t understand. “What burns?”

He quiets. “You’re not hurt?”

She flexes her hand, mystified. “No. Should I be?”

“I – everyone else always was,” he says.

“I’m not everyone else,” she says confidently, and takes another step closer. She grabs onto his arm again, fumbling until she can hold his hand in hers. He flinches, but doesn’t pull away from her. “See, I’m fine.”

Carefully, and oh so slowly, he curls an arm around her waist and pulls her forward until she’s flush against his chest and full lips press against her forehead. “I’m – I’m glad.”

He’s not just talking about her not being burned. She feels such a surge of affection for him in this moment, and being held in his arms she realizes something. She loves him, this man she’s never seen and doesn’t truly know. He’s kind and funny and has given her back a life she hadn’t known she’d lost. He’s never touched her or coveted her, and even now in his arms there’s nothing lecherous or uncomfortable about his touch.

That might change, if he saw her. If he knew how she looked, he might forget about the rest of her, and to lose his affection and regard now would kill her as surely as that fall from the cliff would have.

But he does not need to see her to touch her.

She shifts enough so that he raises his head, and gathers her courage. She presses their lips together, lightly at first, then less lightly when he returns it. “Come to bed,” she says, when they part, dizzy with emotions she’s never had before.

“Are you sure?” he asks, voice rough.

She’s never been more sure of anything in her life.

“Yes.”

~

That’s her life now, her days filled with cleaning and gardening and her nights with her friend, her now lover. He’s never told her his name, and she doesn’t want to ask. He doesn’t see her and she doesn’t know his name. It seems better that way, more fair. She falls asleep in his arms every night, and he’s gone by the time she wakes, gone before the first ray of sunlight creeps through the window.

He loves her. It’s obvious, so incredibly obvious that she’s ashamed she didn’t notice before. He let her sleep in his bed even before they were sleeping together, gave over his home to her and requested nothing in return, listens to her and laughs with her. He loves her, and she loves him, and it’s time she trusted him.

She’s wide awake when he comes to her, greeting her with a kiss. He notices her stiffness and pulls back. “Is something wrong?”

“I think it’s time you saw my face,” she’s shaking, and she can’t stop it. She loves him and is terrified his love for her will change when he sees her.

She sits up in bed, and he kneels in front of her on the floor, holding her hands in his. “Psyche, you don’t have to if you don’t want to. It’s okay.”

She shakes her head, “No. I love you, and – and we should be together in the light of day, our love is too big to fit in this room anymore.”

He kisses her wrist and says, “Whatever you like.”

How will she live without this love? Hopefully she won’t have to find out. She reaches for a lantern and sets it in her lap, lighting it with careful fingers. A soft glow fills the room, and she squeezes her eyes shut, waiting.

A finger touches a spot on her sternum, then her shoulders, her neck, her cheeks, then the tip of her nose. “You have freckles,” he says, “I like them.”

She opens her eyes. Her lover is smiling at her, and he’s gorgeous, every bit as pretty as she is with dark eyes and even darker skin. Most importantly, he’s looking at her like a person, with love and affection. Not with something blank and othering like so many people have looked at her before, not like she’s an object or an art piece.

The tidal wave of relief is so great that she’s weak with it. She realizes her mistake a second later when the lantern slips out of her hands, spilling hot oil.

Her lover reacts faster than any mortal man could, pushing her out of the way and catching the lantern at an awkward angle, so most of the burning oil spills down his arms and chest. “No!” Psyche cries.

He looks down at his blistering skin with fascination, “That’s never happened before.” He winces, and clenches his hands as the burns spread along his body, as his skin cracks and bleeds.

“Lie down!” Psyche cries, grabbing the sheets and trying to mop up the oil, trying to stop it from spreading. “What were you thinking? You should have let it fall on me!”

It’s burning more than hot oil should, and she’s sobbing as tries to stop it. “Don’t be ridiculous,” he says, voice slurring as his eyes slide shut. “I would never let anything hurt you.”

“No!” she grabs his shoulders and shakes him, “Wake up! You have to wake up!”

He doesn’t respond. Psyche thinks back, frantic, to when he thought he had burned her when they first touched, to the person he said they needed. “HERMES!” she screams, “HERMES! A GOD NEEDS YOU!”

There’s a flash of light, and the messenger god of healing and is in front of them. “Eros,” he says, dropping down beside him and not looking at Psyche at all. “What happened to you?”

He touches his chest, and then they’re both gone.

Psyche is left alone crying next to an oil soaked sheet.

~

Hermes takes Eros to his parents, both of whom drop everything to come to his side. “What happened?” Hephaestus demands.

Hermes concentrates on containing the burns before they can spread any further. He can worry about healing them alter. “He dropped oil on himself.”

“He’s a god,” Aphrodite snaps, “no oil can harm him. Even if it could, it wouldn’t be able to do this.”

Hermes shoots them both a grin, “It seems like your boy’s fallen in love. Only true love could cool him enough to burn him, only true love could hurt him like this.”

It’s at that moment that Eros gasps awake. He reaches out, and Aphrodite takes his hand. “Mom,” he says, eye wide, “please, go to my house, there’s a girl there–”

“Did she do this to you?” she asks dangerously.

“It was an accident. I pushed her out of the way, I didn’t know I would burn,” he moans in pain, then grits his teeth against it. “Mom, please. Please go to her.”

She looks to Hermes, who’s busy mixing a salve. He doesn’t look up at her as he says, “Your son will be fine. I’ll take care of the burns.”

Hephaestus meets her gaze and gives a sharp nod. “Go, I’ll stay with him.”

Aphrodite doesn’t want to leave him, but gives in and does as her son asks of her.

~

She shows up just in time to stop the mortal girl from hurling herself from the mountain side. “What do you think you’re doing?” she snaps, and takes a moment to register that it’s the village girl she sent Eros to help so long ago. This wasn’t what she’d had in mind.

Her red eyes and tear soaked face does more to sooth Aphrodite’s temper than any excuses she could have given. “He’s dead,” she sobs, “I love him, and he’s gone, and there’s no reason for me to live any longer. Please, let me die.”

Aphrodite sees the glow of love on her, and knows the girl’s affection for her son is true. “He is not dead,” she hesitates and adds, “yet.”

True love has started wars and left all involved nothing but dust and regret. Her son deserved more than that. A love must not only be true – it must be pure.

“If you wish for him to live, you must help me,” she says.

Psyche prostrates herself before her, “Anything! I’ll do anything!”

Aphrodite moves them to warehouse full of mixed grains. “You must sort these before dawn. Barley is necessary for a poultice that will heal my son. Hurry.”

~

Psyche looks at all of them and despairs. But her lover needs her. Eros needs her.

She gets to work.

The night is halfway gone and she’s not even a tenth of the way complete. There’s no hope, her love will die, and there’s nothing she can do to stop it. She gives in, and is sobbing in the middle of the warehouse when she feels a tickling sensation on her hand. She looks down to see a small ant. “Why are you crying?” the ant asks.

“I need to sort all these grains, and I cannot do it,” she says, sniffling. “My lover needs the barely to heal.”

The ant considers this. “I will help you,” it declares, “and in return you must allow me to take all the beans from this store.”

“They are not mine to give,” Psyche says regretfully, “so I cannot accept your help.”

“Then your lover will die,” the ant says callously, and leaves.

She looks at the unsorted pile of grains. Not if she can help it.

Psyche shoves up her sleeves and gets back to work.

~

Aphrodite shows up, and Psyche is still working. She’s gotten through three quarters of the grains, and Aphrodite is impressed. She did not think she would manage to get through even half. The girl clearly hasn’t slept, and even now doesn’t pause in her work. “Lady,” she says, “I’m not done yet.”

“That is enough,” Aphrodite says, looking at the sizable pile of barley. She produces a glass bottle and puts it in front of her. “To stave of death while we make the poultice, we need water from the river Styx. There is a spout on top of my son’s mountain. You must collect this water and return it to me.”

Psyche’s shoulder’s slump, but she doesn’t hesitate when she takes the glass bottle. “I will do it.”

~

Psyche calls for the wind, begging it to take her to the top of the mountain. If the lady wishes, it says. She’s lifted into the air, and brought there. She’s freezing, and it’s hard to breath in the cold air. Dragons sit on either side of the spout, snapping their jaws at her. “Please!” she calls out, “I need the water of the river Styx! I act in the name of Aphrodite.”

They hiss and spit fire at her, and she clings to the side, trying to avoid the flames. “We are not commanded by the Lady Aphrodite,” a child’s voice says, and Psyche looks up to see a girl with black skin and grey hair looking down at her from the back of one of the dragons.

“Please,” Psyche says, “Lady Styx, grant me some of your river. Eros need it to live.”

Styx frowns, and says, “This is not a water which brings life.”

“Please,” she repeats, “I swear no harm will be done in your name, I swear my intentions are honest.”

The child goddess sighs and says, “Come and get it then. If my dragons’ flames pass through you, then you speak the truth, and may have some of my river. If you lie, then I shall see you again in the underworld.”

Psyche nods and walks forward, not breaking eye contact with the child goddess. The dragons screech and flame roars towards her and then – it goes through her. She reaches the top of the mountain safely. She holds out the glass bottle.

Styx laughs and fill it for her. “Happy travels,” she says, right before pushing her off the mountain. Zephyr catches her halfway down, and it takes several seconds for Psyche to stop screaming.

Zephyr deposits her back on the ground, and Aphrodite appears before her. Psyche hands over the bottle.

Aphrodite undoes it and pours the water out, and the grass dies wherever it falls. “It’s too late,” she says, and Psyche’s heart is in her throat, “the only thing left to do is to go to Persephone and beg a spark of life from her.” She slashes her hand down, and opening into the underworld appears. “Persephone will not grant any request of mine. You must go.”

She barely finished speaking when Psyche throws herself through the portal.

~

Aphrodite stares at the place where the girl stood, stunned. Hermes appears beside her. “Your son is well and only sleeps,” he says, “Isn’t this a bit unnecessary?”

“My son has a heart that will never stray. She must prove herself worthy of it,” Aphrodite answers.

Hermes stares, “You will petition Zeus for her?”

“If she proves herself worthy,” she says, then looks at the place where she poured out the incalculably dangerous water of the river Styx. “She’s doing quite well, so far.”

~

Psyche stumbles as she goes through the portal and falls on her knees. This ends up being rather lucky, as it’s taken her to the throne room of the palace of the underworld. Not only is Persephone there, but so is Hades and a god she thinks might be Thanatos. Both Persephone and Thanatos throw Hades narrow eyed looks, which he ignores. “Miss Psyche,” he says, “we’ve been expecting you.”

“Have we,” Persephone says dryly.

Psyche shuffles forward until she’s kneeling in front of Persephone and presses her forehead to the cool obsidian floor. “Lady Goddess,” she says, “I beg a spark of life from you.”

Persephone rises from her throne, and circles her with slow measured steps, her face blank and cold. “I’ve seen you garden,” she says finally, “you have quite a talent with plants.”

“Thank you, Lady,” she says.

Persephone crouches and grabs her chin, jerking up her chin to get a good look at her. “Well, aren’t you a pretty little thing,” she murmurs. “I will give you a spark of life. In return, you must give me your beauty.”

“Take it,” Psyche begs, elated the price is so small, “I don’t want it, I’ve never wanted it. All I want is Eros.”

Her coldness melts away, and the goddess of life and death shakes her head, a small smile curled around the corner of her lips. “He chose well,” she says.

Psyche doesn’t understand until there’s another rip in the air, and her lover steps through. He looks healthy, alive and well. “Eros!” she cries, forgetting her place and standing in the presence of the king and queen of the dead. Before she can kneel once more, Eros runs to her and picks her up in his arms, raising her into the air and spinning her.

“I was so worried about you,” he says, kissing her, then kissing her tears away.

“I thought you were dying!” she says, running her hands over his chest and shoulders and nearly falling in relief when the skin there is whole and unburned.

He winces and kisses her once more, “My mother – I asked her to help you, not test you. I’m sorry.”

“You should be grateful,” Hades says, and they both turn to face him. “Psyche has proven herself, and Aphrodite intends to contest Zeus so that she may stay by your side for eternity.” He smiles, “If Aphrodite is unsuccessful, come to me. I will do what I can.”

They both bow to him, and then are gone in the next moment.

~

Aphrodite goes to Hephaestus, “You are his son, Zeus would want the request to come from you.”

“You are his daughter,” he shoots back, even as he paces.

She sighs, “I was born of his blood and sea foam. It is not the same, and you know it.”

Hephaestus gives a grudging nod. Neither of them are favorites among Olympus, so he goes to someone who is.

Ares looks at him consideringly. “You should ask Mom yourself. Father will do as she says.”  

“Hera hates me,” Hephaestus snaps. “She will reject my son’s request if I’m the one to present it.”

Ares grabs the back of his brother’s neck, pulling them together until their foreheads touch. Some tension gradually bleeds out of Hephaestus. “Try, for me,” Ares says. “If she denies you, I will ask her, and she will not deny me.”

Hephaestus goes to Mount Olympus when Zeus is gone and kneels before Hera. He looks up, and can’t help but think that Ares is right – they have her eyes. Eros has her eyes too. “My son has fallen in love with a mortal girl whom he wishes to marry. I petition you to allow her to become immortal.”

He’s braced for anything, shoulders hunched. Her laughter, her scorn, for her to throw him from Mount Olympus like she did when he was freshly born. “Would this make you happy?” she asks.

He blinks, mouth open. Is this some other cruel trick, to force him to admit it’s something he wants only so she can take greater pleasure in denying him? “Yes,” he says, because it’s true. It will make Eros happy, and when his son is happy, he is happy.

“Very well,” Hera says coolly. “We will have the wedding on Mount Olympus, and once they exchange vows she will become like us.”

He stares, frozen in shock. He didn’t expect it to be that easy. He’s never heard of anyone requesting anything from Hera and just getting it besides Ares.

“Was there anything else?” she asks.

Hephaestus shakes his head, “No, my queen. Thank you.”

He’s gone before she has a chance to respond, before she has a chance to change her mind.

~

Eros and Psyche’s marriage is the event of the century. Gods great and small show up for it, even Hades is convinced to leave his realm to attend.

They pledge their lives to each other, and Hera officiates as the goddess of marriage. Once they swear their loyalty to one another, she takes a small square of ambrosia and hand feeds it to Psyche. She swallows it in two bites, and when she’s finished she glows with her new status as an immortal.

Eros grabs Psyche and dips her.

When he kisses her, the gods’ cheering is loud enough that it causes thunder storms all across earth.

gods and monsters series, part xix

read more of the gods and monsters series here

anonymous asked:

prompt: andreil + emergency room visit

(this is a sequel to THIS ‘I think there’s someone in the house’ fic!)

The paramedics hammer on the door, and Neil looks up, teary-eyed, from where his face is pressed into Andrew’s damp hair. He’s feeling for his breath with the back of his hand, waiting moment to moment for Andrew to die in his arms, silently like he does everything else. Urgency keeps stunning Neil all over again, hysterical defibrillators. The EMT’s are calling out through the wall, muffled but calm.

It feels unthinkably wrong, their absolute evenness and ease outside his door when his life is an exposed neck and Andrew’s death is the whirring blade of a saw.

He realizes that he has to get up to let them in, and it seems as impossible as it would be for Andrew to spring up and answer the door himself. He feverishly wants them to crumple the door to splinters and be inside already. 

It’s a herculean effort to ease Andrew to the ground, like he’s gritting his teeth and cutting off his own leg. He touches Andrew’s clammy face briefly but he can’t bring himself to try and slap him awake. He props Andrew’s bare feet up on the rim of the bath so the blood will flood towards his head, at least.

He feels untethered to his body when he stands, a helium balloon with its usual weight passed out on the bathroom floor. He falls into the wall immediately, adrenaline neck and neck with exhaustion.

He finds his way to the front door without his mind’s help. His head is in the bathroom with Andrew, and he knows that no matter what happens it’ll be there for a long, long time.

The next time he blinks, a man in uniform is holding his biceps and peering down at him seriously.

“—sir? Sir, are you hurt at all?”

“No,” Neil says, lips numb. “Bathroom. He’s in the bathroom. He’s bleeding to death.”

He turns, easily slipping the paramedic’s grip. There’s a procession of them, hefting a gurney and a couple of kits, and they’ve brought all the cold from outside in on their heels. They’re such a foreign object in their warm, messy apartment — uniformed, official, and precise.

It’s deadly, walking in and seeing Andrew spread out in his boxers, blood oozing through his t-shirt from his loose stitches, pale enough to match the porcelain. Neil’s seen enough corpses to recognize what they look like. 

He falls heavily to his knees and puts his head directly to his chest, listening, tears slipping hotly over the bridge of his nose.

“Please,” he slurs. His heartbeat is a tentative thud, a knock from an unexpected guest. “Help him. Now, help him now.”

“We’re going to try our best Sir, but you’ve got to get out of the way,” someone says gently.

He topples backwards onto his hands. It’s a cramped space, and he knows it would be easier if he waited outside, but he also knows he’d rather die than leave them alone with him.

The first guy kneels down and takes Andrew’s pulse, and Neil shakes his head. They’re too slow, time is feeding directly into a wide open drain.

“He needs an IV. He’s two litres down, at least. You’ve got to—“ A petite woman puts a hand on his shoulder and he shrugs her off violently. “No! You have to listen to me.”

“We know what we’re doing,” she says. “Are you an MD?” She eyes him doubtfully, gaze flitting from his scars to where her colleagues are taking vitals and cutting through Andrew’s clothes.

“Yes,” Neil says wildly. “And he needs an IV. Possibly two. Large-bore, normal saline. He’s not getting any oxygen, and he’s been like this for as long as it took you to gather your meager response team.”

She purses her lips, but she’s a professional. He can see her repressing her anger and it infuriates him. He feels like he’s crashing, over and over again, and he’s watching someone daintily pump the breaks.

“He’s right,” one of the EMT’s says distractedly. “We’re gonna need to get some fluids started, he’s in hypovolemic shock, sats below 50.”

“You want to tell me what happened?” one of the men asks.

“No,” Neil says as evenly as he can manage, reaching out to graze Andrew’s cold fingers.

“Did you do these stitches?” the woman asks, pulling at Andrew’s skin to get a better look at them. He suddenly sees how they must look to them, sloppy and angry red. Neil bends her arm away without thinking about it.

“Don’t touch him,” he snaps. He could break her arm and it would make him feel better. He drops her, disoriented by his own violence.

“There’s no need to be antagonistic,” the first man says. “We don’t want to have to remove you.”

“You really don’t,” Neil agrees. “You won’t succeed.”

Keep reading

What Did You Just Call Me? (Bucky X Reader)

Originally posted by totheendofthelinepal

MASTER LIST

PAIRING: Bucky Barnes X Reader
Warnings: Cursing, Violence & PDA
WORD COUNT: 2,712 
SUMMARY: The Avengers come back from a quick mission that ended well for everyone but Y/N. During the whole mission, Bucky babies Y/N since she’s new to the team. When they come back to headquarters she picks a fight with him leading to an actual fight. 


“I can’t believe you.”

“What I do now, Dollface?”

“Don’t doll face me!” Y/N storms out of the elevator with the rest of the Avengers following behind her, “You practically told me to wait in the car like I’m some five-year-old!”

“Well, if you didn’t act like a child then I wouldn’t treat you like one.”

Y/N’s eyes go wide by Bucky Barnes’s statement, somehow he’s able to make her even more pissed than she already is. The two heroes walk side by side further into the Avenger’s headquarter as they bark at one another. People around them notice steam coming out of Y/N’s ears and Bucky’s deadly gaze with the rest of the Avenger gang following behind them awkwardly quiet. Just that display makes everyone near the group go the opposite way. Y/N stops walking and points at her friend with a metal arm while growling in disbelief.

“Excuse me?! Bucky, you’re not my Dad-”

“Woah, save the kinky talk for the bed.”

Tony Starks blurts out making the two fighting look at him like they’re about to attack. James Rhodes sends his best friend a knowing look before shrugging and continuing to walk beside him. Natasha Romanoff and Clint Barton are walking behind Tony and James with bored expressions as if they been through this argument with each other before. Wanda Maximoff and Vision walk beside the assassins like they wanted nothing but leave the scene in front of them. Sam Wilson then sends Steve Rogers a glance silently telling him that maybe they should intervene but Steve just watches them like this is a casual conversation. Bruce Banner, Thor Odinson, and Peter Parker are the last ones to leave the elevator. All three look innocently confused on what is going on here. The whole team is decked out in their now dirty suits and used weapons. Sending Tony an irritated glance Y/N snaps with venom.

“Tony. For the last time, we’re just friends!”

“Could have fooled me.” He mumbles to himself making Y/N face go red causing him to raise his hands up in defeat and adding, “Sorry, my bad.”

“Sure you are.”

Y/N rolls her eye knowing he’ll make another joke about them in a minute. He’s been making comments like that ever since she joined the Avengers and grew a friendship with Bucky. She knows the group secretly thinks something is going on between the two them. That’s more because Bucky doesn’t make friends, Steve was the only person who qualified as a friend to Bucky before Y/N got into the picture. When Y/N joined she hit it off with everyone, more with the Winter Soldier than with anyone else though. It was a problem in the beginning since the group treated her like they had to keep her safe at all times but after a few weeks, everyone realized she didn’t need protection. Well, everyone realized that besides Bucky. Which is why they are at each other’s throats right now because during the whole mission the team was on only moments ago Bucky had treated her like another civilian. Chucking her gun carelessly on a couch near by Y/N shouts at Bucky without looking at him.

“I’m going to say this one last time, Bucky Barnes. I don’t need a fucking babysitter.”

“Why are you mad at me?” He looks around the building confused before saying with some serious guts, “It’s not my fault you’re fragile.”

“Oh shit.”

“God… Bucky… No.”

“Are you trying to get your ass kicked?”

“What did you just call me?”

Y/N shouts before flipping over a table and turning to face him with an unreadable expression, she’s never looked more deadly than right now. To be honest, no one besides Bucky really knows Y/N, she’s only been an Avenger for a few months now and she spends most her time with him. Nevertheless, it’s no secret that Y/N gets mad a lot, a least once a day she’s pissed about something. Yesterday it was because of her coffee split, today it’s because Bucky called her fragile but this was a different kind of mad that none of them have ever seen. It was close to when Bruce gets scary kind of mad and turns into Hulk. So out of a force of habit, the whole team stills and watches them with their weapons at the ready. The whole room is now empty of normal people, good thing too because at this moment Bucky and Y/N are wild cards.

“You’re calling ME fragile?!” Y/N snap as she shoves Bucky before pointing at Peter, “We have a fucking 12-year-old on the team and you’re calling me FRAGILE!”

“Hey…”

“Shut up.”

“He has powers, Doll. You don’t.” Bucky announces annoyed as he pushes his longish dark hair out of his face, “He’s been on the team longer than you too. All I’m saying is he has more experience-”

“WHAT!”

Y/N blurts out in such a deep and powerful tone that Thor looks at her in alarm while slightly raising his hammer. In anger, she then takes a handful of small knives and chuckles them harshly near Bucky. They all hit the white wall behind him, he doesn’t flinch and he doesn’t gain a scratch by her action either. He looks at her bored only making her impossibly more furious. Since she was born she was trained to survive anything and to do anything. Her whole life was about surviving any situation. She never got a day off her whole life until last year when Nick found her and gave her an offer to be a part of the Avengers. Storming toward him with her fist clenched she’s about to throw a punch when he grabs her wrist. When she tries to use her free hand he grabs that one too before she can do any damage to him. He spins her slickly around so her entire back is against his built chest. Lowering his head so his lips are right beside her ear when he whispers in a commanding tone.

“Stop being a drama queen and-”

Not letting him finish Y/N flips him over causing him to fall in front of her onto his back, everyone hears the sound of his back hitting the marble floor. He lays there for a second looking at her for a moment as if he underestimated her strength. With that thought he shakes his head knowing a little girl like her couldn’t be stronger than he’d expect, she’s rather short. The top of her head reaches his shoulder. Not only that but that means she’s been going easy with him in their workouts. They work out every morning and he’s never seen her throw something as heavy as him over her shoulder. Jumping up he turns around back to her with an easy going smile, she has her hip popped out and arms folded. Thor leans near Bruce and whispers into the silence with complete shock.

“I wasn’t informed that Y/N was the Queen of drama.”

“Not now, Thor.”

“Okay, okay, you had your fun.” Bucky sighs tiredly as he struts up to Y/N with a smug look, “You made a scene, flipped me over, so let’s just forget this whole little outburst and grab a beer. Dollface.”

“Don’t. Call. Me. Dollface.” Y/N threatens slowly before tilting her head knowingly and whispering, “HYDRA project.”

Bucky’s posture stiffen, he clenches his fists, his face is unreadable. Everyone in the room has a silent heart attack from Y/N’s cheap shot but he was just a moment ago doing the same thing. Bucky and Y/N face each other with the same dangerous expression. The two have fought plenty of times, usually to let off steam or for bragging rights but this was different. They were actually talking instead of just straight up punching. Their friends honestly didn’t know what to do, they were adults, they’re mature enough to resolve this themselves. Then again they both were mentally and physically messed up. Abruptly Bucky throws all his guns away from his person. A sly smile slips onto Y/N’s face at the gesture, she had just as much power over him as he did over her. Getting into her personal space Bucky tilts his head and whispers.

“You’re such a child.”

“Well, you’re such a cocky prick.”

Her words make him growl lowly while moving closers to her, she takes a few steps back but he takes more forwards. They play this game until Y/N’s back is to the wall and she can’t move. Bucky gazes looks hungry making Y/N question why she picked a fight with him. She always had to pick on with him, she fought with everyone in the Avenger but he was the only one to fight back. Maybe that’s why they were such close friends, she’ll tell him to fuck off and he would break into her room to figure out what’s wrong. She’ll tell him of course and he would do everything to fix it, even if he didn’t fix the problem she would feel 100 times better just by knowing her tried. This is different though, he’s not trying to fix it, it’s almost like he’s egging it on and Y/N’s prideful ass is taking the bait. Tilting his head to the side Bucky rests his hand on either side of Y/N’s head before saying with a smug look.

“At least I don’t pretend I’m not delicate.”

“That’s it!”

“You get Bucky, I’ll get Y/N.”

Tony speaks up instantly to Steve knowing Y/N is thinking irrationally right now. Just as Y/N shoves Bucky away and grabs a vase the guys go over to them in hopes to keep each other from killing one another. She throws the glass vase at Bucky causing him and Steve to duck, it hits the floor near their feet and it breaks into tiny pieces. Tony then grabs her by the arms just for her to flip him over like she did with Bucky earlier. He falls to the floor and she walks over him like he wasn’t even there. A coffee table is in Y/N’s way to Bucky so she easily kicks it out of her way to Bucky. The table slides unknowingly at the Avengers watching them. Some of the moves away and jump over it, Thor uses his hammer to break it and makes it impossible for the broken pieces not to hit his friends around him. Steve who’s pulling Bucky back sees the damage and says for the first time since he’s been frozen.

“Shit.”

Bucky hides a chuckle at the scene in front of him just before Y/N gets to him and punched him in the jaw. His expression goes from shock to mad within a second before pouncing on her. She moves and sweeps his legs before he can tackle her to the ground. He falls and she grabs a glass pot near a couch, she throws it at his laying form. He moves out of the way just a second before it hits the ground and breaks into a million shards. He groans in disbelief because he knows she was really aiming to hit him that time, jumping up he grabs the couch and slides it into her. She falls before she can throw a decorative plant at him. Letting out a heavy breath Buck realizes she’s more pissed than he realized and suddenly asks seriously.

“Are you seriously mad at me calling you delicate?”

“No, Bucky. I’m not mad, I’m just throwing shit for fun.” She growls as she jumps over the couch to get to him, “Of course I’m fucking mad! You’re like my best friend and you treat me like a burden!”

“Doll, you aren’t a burden-”

“Don’t call me that! And don’t you dare lie to me.” She spits out as she shoves him, well, he lets her shove him into the wall behind him, “Ever since I’ve joined you made it your job to baby me and I’ve had it!”

“I baby you because I don’t want you to get hurt!” He spins them around so he has her pinned to the wall as he explains in frustration, “I have not once seen you as some kind of burden to me or to the team.”

“Bullshit! Just admit it!” She barks as she tries to get out of his grasp, “You baby me because you see me as a problem.”

“Dollface… You have it all backward.”

Bucky whispers tiredly as he keeps his hold on Y/N so she won’t punch him. Steve helps Tony stand up behind the two by the wall. They glance at their other friends to make sure they are okay before looking cautiously at Buck and Y/N. Never have has any of them seen the two fight like this, they were always teasing each other or play fighting but never this. The team thought the two were too close to fight this badly. There has to be a more serious reason Y/N’s mad at Bucky, she usually is just annoyed when Bucky is overprotective of her. Maybe she doesn’t see it as being overprotective, maybe she sees Bucky trying to limiting her. That honestly wouldn’t surprise the team, they could tell Bucky likes being in charge of Y/N. Before the team can think any more of this irrational argument they hear Bucky mumble to Y/N so softly that could barely hear it.

“I try to protect you because I couldn’t handle you getting hurt.”

“Well, why don’t you baby Steve!” She fires back not exactly realizing what he meant, “I know you hate when he gets hurt but every time we’re out you-”

“Doll, you’re an exception.”

“It’s because I’m a girl, right? Let me tell you, you sexist-”

“No! For the love of God…”

He groans annoyed before throwing all caution out the window and slamming his lips to hers. She moans in surprise and her eyes go wide just as big as their friends. His hands loosen around her wrist letting her pull loose. Grabbing his shirt in the front aggressively she pulls him closer and shuts her eyes. He sighs in relief before leaning his body on her’s against the wall. One of Bucky’s hands goes to the small of her back to push her bottom half flush on his, this other weaves through her hair. She groans as she wraps her arms around his neck to pull him impossibly closer to her. Bucky begins pulling away from her causing her to follow him needingly. Chuckling Bucky gives her one last kiss before officially pulling away to look down at her. Biting her lip Y/N says breathlessly with the color pink coming to her cheeks.

“Oh… That’s why.”

“Yeah. That’s why, doll face.”

 “Well, well, well…” Their little bubble pops when they hear Tony say in a shit eating grin, “What I’d tell Y'all.”

Steve who’s standing right beside the millionaire playboy sends him an unamused look before punching him in the arm. He then turns to Bucky and gives him an easy wink making him look down to his feet before looking at the woman in his arms. Y/N opens her mouth to say something before the only kid in the room blurts out curiously.

“So who’s cleaning this mess up?”

Bucky and Y/N finally look away from each other, the team does the same and looks around. Everyone in the room realizes then it’s a bigger mess than they would have assumed. The coffee table, vase, and fake plant are broken into hundreds of pieces across the room. A couch and table are flipped over and in a weird position and a hand full of knives are in the wall along with a bunch of weapons scattered on the floor. Awkwardly Bucky and Y/N look back at each other, their little fight might have gotten too out of hand. Bursting out loud laughing the two look at each other like they should have expected this much from one another.