i hope that this is what you meant


FINALLY I GOT IT ALL DONE XD This was very fun! Requests are one way for me to practice! 8D Here comes dem mentions : 

Check!Frisk © Me Requested by an anon (Dude I hope what u meant by Check frisk is Checktale frisk [or maybe another person’s frisk, if it is then oops- XD] I actually have a concept of Check!Frisk ready to go! Hopefully one day I could make a ref if i aint lazy)

Ze Green gal © Requested by @kata3211 (She’s an interesting one!)

Pink skele gal © Requested by @anaarts121 (AHHH THE EYES! OWO)

Checka © Me Requested by @blazeflaze (Hnngg i know you requested her to say hewwo but I kinda failed I suppose XD)

Note that my requests are currently close so don’t send one unless I open em again!

anonymous asked:

Can you do a headcannon where Tom finds you throwing stuff around and being a pouty toddler basically? Also love you btw don't listen to the haters cause you make my day so much better just by existing

Of course luv this was kinda hard cuz I didn’t exactly know what you meant like as in argument wise but I tried I hope you lie it and also Thank you sm luv you are so sweet and I love you💞💞🌹

-Tom would come home and open the door just to have a vase thrown at him
-thankfully missing his face and crashing into the wall behind him
-Tom looked down at the broken vase and realized it was the vase your mom had gotten you
-“y/n why is your moms vase thrown at my face”(that rhymes)
-Tom would walk into the flat that
You both shared only to have a plate thrown at him
-then he would see you on the floor with broken glass and pillows and covers thrown everywhere looking dead
-mascara running down your cheeks like you have been crying and your eyes and face puffy
-Tom would stand there in shook confused yet hurt
-“love what are you doing are you okay why are you throwing things?”
-no response
-“I had a bad day,,,,”
-“luv we all have bad days but there is no need to throw things”
-“I know I’m sorry”
-“ do you wanna talk about it”
-“alright but when you do I’m here”
-he would just pull you into a hug you,and kiss your head gently and just hold you there hoping that he was enough to help you calm down
-he was.

(Okay wow I wrote that I’m crying)💞

anonymous asked:

Hey, I just wanted to say how much that comic you made about your past abuse meant to me. As someone who has experienced abuse similar to what you had done (guilt-tripping with threats of suicide), to see someone who had been abusive openly admit that that was wrong and that they’re trying to become a better person was so inspirational, and it gave me a lot of hope. You’re doing great, hon. Keep up the good work, and have a nice day/night. :)

honestly this almost made me cry, this means so much to me, tysm i hope u have a good day too

Originally posted by benedictscumbercollective

Requested by: @sippy–sippy !!

“(Y/n), may I speak to you for a moment?” The ancient one’s voice echoed through the corridor stopping (y/n) in her steps.

“Yes? What can I do for you?” The Ancient One stepped forward and gestured for (y/n) to walk with them.

“You may have noticed our new student, Mr Strange?.” (Y/n) nodded as she recalled the rugged man who had joined Karma taj just a couple weeks ago.

“He has much potential, unfortunately I fear that he is letting his physical state get the best of him.” (Y/n)’s pace slowed for she understood completely what the Ancient One meant. “I was hoping you could help him open his mind. Given your history on the matter”

“Well.. I appreciate you thinking of me.. but,” (y/n) paused Before continuing. “Are you sure I’m capable of this? I mean-I’ll try and do for him what you did for me. But I’m not sure that will be enough..” The Ancient One smiled at (y/n).

“You have a kind heart, (y/n). I have complete faith in you.” The ancient one excused herself and left the corridor leaving (y/n) alone.

“Yeah-well…that makes one of us”

The bell tolled signaling the end of the lesson. It was over weapon formation and how it is used. (Y/n) positioned herself across from Stephen so she could get a clear view of his actions. He was slightly more cleaned up than usual which showed that he was finally getting used to the whole place. He managed to spark a rope for a moment but it quickly vanished before he could use it. As the rest of the students dispersed, (y/n) walked over to him with a smile.

“Mr Strange?” Her voice broke his attention away from his hands which he instinctively swung behind his back as he looked up at her. She could see a small sparkle in his eye when he looked at her. “I’m (y/n), The Ancient One has asked me to help you..” She looked over her shoulder to make sure no one was around. “Open your mind~~” She mocked in an attempt to make him smile, he seemed so intense! But she had succeeded in her attempt and managed to get a chuckle out of him.

“Yeah I’m starting to wonder what that even means cause clearly I don’t get it.” (Y/n) shrugged her shoulders at his comment.

“It just takes some time, that’s all.” She gestured for him to walk with her and he obeyed. They moved to the edge of the courtyard and looked out over the balcony edge, the sun had begun it’s graceful decent into the horizon. “You know, I had trouble understanding all of this too. Especially because of my..disadvantage.” She could feel Stephen’s eyes lock onto her but she ignored the gaze. “You have to learn to see pass this. The things we are learning here transcend the boundaries of our physical form. It isn’t our hands that are creating magic, it is our souls.”

“You’re starting to sound like the Ancient One.” Stephen smirked causing (y/n) to smile.

“Yeah well, she does give really good advice. She could teach a dog to speak mandarin if she wanted.” Another chuckle emerged from Stephen, in turn easing the situation.

“How long have you been here, (y/n)?” She paused trying to remember the specific time.

“Four..five years? The thing is I don’t remember much before I came here. Time flies when you’re transcending reality.” She could tell that he was avoiding asking why. But the ancient one had asked her to help him so she had to make him feel like he could trust her. (Y/n) took a deep breath and held out her hands to him.

“May I?” Stephen raised an eyebrow at the gesture, hesitating as he glanced down at his hands. “I promise, I wouldn’t be asking if it weren’t important.” Her voice had soften and he could clearly see the kind sparkle in her eyes. He held his breath and placed his shivering hands in hers. She kept her face steady, not wanting to make him regret his trust. But (y/n) couldn’t help but swallow back the sorrow she felt for him as she gently thumbed the healing scars. Her (e/c) eyes glanced up at him, she could clearly see him avert his gaze to his feet. She tapped his palm gently and gave him a reassuring smile that eased his pounding heart.

“You know, Everyone who comes here has baggage. Whether it’s physical, mental, or spiritual. They have all been able to succeed in the mystic arts once they realized their body couldn’t hold them back.” Stephen pulled his hands away and ran them through his shaggy hair as he turned around in exasperation.

“Listen, I know all that. I know about all the success stories of karma taj. I know a man who should never walk again but now plays pickup games during the week. I know all of this! I just.. I just can’t think that way..” he collapsed against the stone wall and sank to the floor. “I have spent my entire life studying the human body. I have been apart of some of the most experimental procedures ever created. None of that- I mean NONE of that could’ve been done without focusing on the physical body!” His voice shook as he drew a grieving breath. He was on the brink of giving up. (Y/n)’s heart burned for the man. She knew what he was feeling but also understood that there was no way to make him understand. Unless..

She reached into the inner pocket of her Tunic and pulled out a small leather parcel. Stephen eyed her as she slipped it open and pulled out a photo.

“That was me, sophomore year of college.” He studied the photo that hovered in front of him and carefully took it from her hands. Her (h/c) hair was long back then and was pulled back in a pony tail. She was wearing a basketball uniform and stood proudly with her team. “We had made it to nationals. I had professional teams lined up just to see me play. I was good. Extremely good. But then…” her words faded as she remembered the memory. “New York happened.” Stephen’s eyes widened at those words. He remembered that day perfectly. He was at a conference in Paris when every television had been filled with panicked news broadcasts. He remembered calling Christine’s cell over and over praying that she was alright. Stephen pondered that memory for a moment, he hadn’t thought of Christine since he found this place.

“We were heading to the stadium when the invasion started. Our coach forced us to stay on the bus, thinking it was the safest place. She was right until the Avengers blew up that giant space worm.” (Y/n) slowly undid her tunic and lifted her plain undershirt as she turned. Stephen politely averted his eyes but slowly drew them back when he saw the old burns and scars. He bit his tongue trying to keep from cursing. “The explosion happened right above us. It was pretty epic at first until the thing came crashing down on us. Our coach screamed for us to get off the bus but my friend was petrified. I basically pushed her out the emergency exit when the alien had crashed on top of the bus. The whole thing blew up. Next thing I knew, I was in the hospital having a skin graft done to my back. Course that was a shocker. when I came to the doctor said I wouldn’t be able to live the same way again.” Stephen had so many scientific questions in his brain but could only manage to sputter our one.

“Did you have any nerve damage? Spinal fractures? What brought you here?” (Y/n) pulled her tunic back together and nodded.

“You know more about it than I do probably. Doctors said that this type of injury was rare, course that was their fancy way of saying it was untreatable.” Stephen gave her a side nod in agreement. “Basically my nerves got screwed up. It’s a gamble every time I move. Sometimes I pick up something or stand and it’s fine. Others..well you can probably piece it together.” Stephen nodded, he felt somewhat at ease taking a break from the metaphysical dimensions and simply thinking about science. He knew how delicate nerves were, especially since his own shivering was mainly nerve based. He understood the pains and flares that could send a patient into tears in just a moments notice.

“Is…is that why you came here? To heal?” (Y/n) shook her head.

“I came here by accident actually.” She knelt down next to Stephen and sat against the wall brushing his shoulder. “I dropped out of school and was just traveling around, trying to find a new path in life. When I came to Nepal I was going through a market when someone stole my bag. I chased them down but fell into a trap. Master Hamir saved me and brought me here.” Strange recalled the elderly one handed master from the first day he found Karma Taj. (Y/n) shook her head clear of the memories and smiled.

“It took some time for me to see pass the incident and even longer to start making progress. But now..” she held out her hands and formed multiple magic circles until they morphed into a glowing spiked Chakram. Stephen’s eyes widened at the spell. It was fantastic! The weapon didn’t fizzle or disintegrate in the slightest. It was as if it were a true weapon. (Y/n) flicked her wrist and sent the chakram soaring through the air where it dispersed. (Y/n) pulled herself to her feet feet and dusted her tunic “Now I’m sorry for talking your ear off! I know you probably don’t care about any of this-“

“No I do!” Stephens abrupt reply startled (y/n). “I-I mean.. sorry I just..” He pulled himself to his feet. “You’re the first person to actually open up to me since I got here.” His stammering voice was sincere causing (Y/n)’s heart to warm. She couldn’t help but smile at him to ease his nerves, he looked so vulnerable!

“Really? Well…” her words faded causing his heart to clench. Was that too personal of him to say? “You shouldn’t had told me that cause now I’m never going to shut up!” She got a pretty good laugh out of him. Third times a charm! They walked together back to the dormitories until they reached (y/n)’s room. It was just around the corner from Stephen’s which he found somewhat comforting. She opened her door but paused before closing it. “Stephen?” She called causing him to swivel around and look at her. (Y/n) thumbed the inside of the door trying to piece together her thoughts. “I hope you know…you can open up to me too. I may have talked a lot but I’m told I’m a fairly good listener. Besides, I think it’d help you a lot with your spells if you were to get that baggage off your chest.” Stephen smiled at her kind offer and gave her a slight nod.

“Thank you, (y/n). I look forward to our first lesson tomorrow.” Her cheeks warmed at the comment. They had agreed to meet once a day to work through the basics. Also they just really wanted to spend more time with each other.

“I’m excited too! Goodnight Stephen.” He smiled at her and gave a small wave as he headed down the hall. She surely couldn’t wait for the morning.


Hey guys!! This is a super old request and I feel so bad for waiting so long!! I’ve honestly been unable to think of an “original” injury for (y/n) cause I’ve read many in the past and wanted to do something different. My sister has a nerve injury in her foot that spreads to her wrist from time to time. Let me tell you, nerve injuries are wack! I remember her having a feather graze her foot and she burst into tears! There was all sorts of physical therapies involved so I definitely know how difficult it is to live like this. My sister is better now but I wanted to incorporate that into this story! I feel that nerve injuries are often overlooked even though they are some of the most painful.. anyway I didn’t get to go too in depth anyway but I’m still happy with this!! I wrote it in the hotel lobby this afternoon in between naps 😂


(Back again)

Hi everyone! I’m still alive!! Things have been extremely hectic for the last few months, and I’m thrilled to see that you all are still here and in an even larger number than before!! We almost reached 3K while I wasn’t looking, that’s crazy!

Anyway, how are you? I hope everything is going well in your life. Tell me all about it in my askhatbox!

I have been reflecting on this blog’s content. Lately I made some Slytherin moodboards on my main @ithrowmyviolets. I wonder if this place (a Harry Potter sideblog) wouldn’t be a better place to post them. What do you think? Are you interested in seeing them on this blog? I’ll reblog some of them to show you what it looks like.

And of course, as usual, requests in the ask box are OPEN and HIGHLY ENCOURAGED. This blog’s content is meant to adapt to you as well!

Love and snakes,

anonymous asked:

Could I ask about how Avohkii and Nadia interacted when I first met?

Avohkii rushes to the door, looking through the peephole to see who would be here at such a late hour.

They’re dressed as if they’re worried they’ll be recognized, hands twisting together anxiously as they play with the jewels on their fingers.

With a heavy sigh, Avohkii opens the door. Whoever they were, they needed something and they needed it bad. Why else would they be here at this hour?

“Forgive me for the hour, but I will not suffer another sleepless night.” They step in, closing the door quickly behind them as they undo the shawl around their neck. Purple hair falling down their back as red eyes look hopeful towards Avohkii, “Please, you must read the cards for me.”

Avohkii’s heart skips a beat. They know that face.

“It has to be you,” the Countess spoke.

i’m guessing nonnie you meant pre-memory loss but I kinda wanted to show y’all what I’m working on? uh, because Avohkii is mute their interactions in game would be very different so because I’m a dork with nothing else to do I’ve been rewriting parts of the game to better fit what would have happened if it was Avohkii. so yeah…enjoy?

Requested by : @mercy8grace

I will choose prompt 1 - Come here and give me a hug! For a HC’s for Koumei and Kouen? Their s/o is illiterate and they didn’t tell anyone about it but they found out somehow and yeah, how would the two kou brothers react and comfort them? (I do hope I did nothing wrong now! I’m really sorry for giving you trouble!) Thank you!

It’s fine sweetie, a lot of people had trouble sticking to the rules, I think I over complicated them a bit so people struggled understanding what I meant xx

“It’s not to problematic, I can always teach you? Don’t get upset. Come here and give me a hug.Kouen would hate seeing his s/o so upset about being illiterate. It was never something he pictured his s/o being but it didn’t bother him to much, the only thing he worried about was them being deemed as stupid because of it, something he reckoned they were scared of to. Over all his reaction would be a mixture of both calm and shocked, like previously said it’s something he never expected, but it’s also something he see’s to be an easy fix. Kouen would make sure to have a schedule arranged so his s/o will be taught everything necessary to be literate, he’ll pay for a first class tutor to help them, and he’ll also help them himself if he ever gets time. If his s/o is embarrassed about the situation, Kouen will either just comfort them by holding them, or tell them a story about something embarrassing happening to his siblings. That way his s/o can use it against Kouha or Judar is they try saying anything.

Requested by : @mercy8grace

I will choose prompt 1 - Come here and give me a hug! For a HC’s for Koumei and Kouen? Their s/o is illiterate and they didn’t tell anyone about it but they found out somehow and yeah, how would the two kou brothers react and comfort them? (I do hope I did nothing wrong now! I’m really sorry for giving you trouble!) Thank you!

It’s fine sweetie, a lot of people had trouble sticking to the rules, I think I over complicated them a bit so people struggled understanding what I meant xx

“There’s no need to be upset. P-please don’t c-cry. Come here and give me a hug. Koumei will be very unsure how to handle the situation, his reaction will be speechless really. He thought someone of his intellect would be able to realize sooner, so he’s more awe struck at the fact they’ve hide it from him for so long. The most reassurance he can give physical wise is a soft hug and maybe a few awkward pats to the head. It may be his s/o, but this is Koumei after all. He’ll offer to buy them a tutor, the best he can find since unfortunately he dosent have time to each them himself as he is always busy, he’s not like his brothers, who relax if they have time. Koumei works for as long as he can. If his s/o is embarrassed in anyway he’ll tell them their being silly, and show them statistics of how many illiterate people are out in the world, and how unlike them they will be able to learn.


Eddie: So, what do you think?

Gemma: Well, the pancakes themselves are pretty fluff-

Eddie laughs, picking up another bite of his pancakes.

Eddie: No, silly. About Sammy. 

Gemma: Oh! He’s such a good boy. I’m not used to having a dog around, but I’m not sure how I survived before!

Eddie: Speaking of pets, do you know that cat that we saw at the bar a while ago?

Gemma: Yeah, they were sooo cute!

Eddie: Well, I was looking online at the Sims Adopt Simstagram page, and I saw it!! 

Gemma: No. Freakin. Way.

Gemma squeals and looks at Eddie in anticipation, a glimmer of hope as to what he’s going to say next.

Eddie: Guess who’s the owner of a new cat! The only downside is that we have to wait a few weeks to adopt them.

Gemma: Honey, I would wait ten years if it meant I could have a cat!

  • fanfic writer: *writing* Oh wow, they are going to love this. This is by far my best work!
  • fic: *witty lines* *perfect love making* *fluffy enough to kill us all* *a dash of angst, a smidgen of hurt/comfort*
  • fanfic writer: Oh man. This is it. This will be my legacy! *sweats into fic* *bleeds into fic* *cries into fic* *spends days perfecting the grammar and verbage and sex scenes* *has 15 betas look over it*
  • fanfic writer: Okay. It is finally time to release my baby on the world. Here you go fandom. You're welcome.
  • fandom: Ha, cute. *like* *kudos*
  • fanfic writer: :/
  • * * *
  • same fanfic writer: *writing* Whatever. This is shit, I don't even care right now. A singing squirrel? Sure, let's do it. Haha, cheesy lines that make no sense, sure. Grammatical errors out the wazoo? Why not. No one's going to read this piece of crap anyway, I literally wrote it on a scrap of 1 ply toilet paper with a broken yellow crayon.
  • fanfic writer: LOL *post*
  • fanfic writer: *sigh*

-Please like/reblog if used
-Do not post as your own
-No need to credit


Harry Potter Moodboards: Magical Creatures for @petalstofish

“I have visited lairs, burrows and nests across five continents, observed the curious habits of magical beasts in a hundred countries, witnessed their powers, gained their trust and, on occasion, beaten them off with my travelling kettle.” // Newt Scamander

Taking Requests

cryptidsanonymous  asked:

I just read everything in your gods and monsters series and wow I am in awe. I am absolutely blown away by your writing it's beautiful the Icarus one had me staring at a wall for ten minutes afterwards absorbing what I'd just read. anywhoozle, I love everything you've written and not to rush or pressure you or anything but I was wondering if perhaps we could get more of the greek mythology stories?

a continuation of this

Caeneus has only ever had two loves in his life.

First is the sea. He’s loved her his whole life, heard her siren song from the time he had long curly hair and still tolerated being put in dresses and called a girl. He loves the sea like his parents go to temple, in an unmovable and inexplicable way that he no longer questions.

Second is Poseidon. Foolish, but so achingly kind. He’s a man who professes his wish to master the sea without ever really understanding it, and Caeneus smiles and kisses the stress lines from his brow but does not worry.

The sea has never loved him back, and it never will. She is power and coldness and loss, and her beauty is in her tragedy. Poseidon is warmth and thoughtfulness and strong hands on his hips. He is nothing like the sea, and he will never rule it.

Caeneus knows this, and he’s relieved by it. Poseidon loves him back. Poseidon is not the sea.

Then he wakes up to his lover’s lips on his neck, cold enough that flinches away from the sensation, and for a terrifying moment he doesn’t recognize the person touching him as the man he loves.

“I can do it now,” he whispers, and cool fingers splay against his waist, “I can make you the man you want to be.”

Caeneus wants the body that men usually have, wants people to stop looking at him and seeing a woman. But if Poseidon had asked, he would have told him – Caeneus would choose his lover over a new body, would rather live as he does now than have Poseidon harm himself for his benefit.

But he did not ask, so Caeneus closes his eyes and accepts the gift his lover is so eager to give him.


Amphitrite has never had a heart before.

She was the sea, and what she desired, she took. Men, women – she wanted, and she had, and then she moved on.

But the heart in her chest is softer, warmer. It turns her pearl hued skin pink and makes her swim to the surface to watch the sun set, makes something like empathy stir inside her when before all she had was selfishness.

The heart in her chest is in love, and she thought it was something she could control, something she could stop. It’s not. It will be one day, when she masters this heart in her chest, but not yet. She spends hours following Caeneus as he sails her seas, guides fish into his net and feels her borrowed heart beat that much faster whenever he pears into the ocean and she catches sigh of his gorgeous amber eyes.

So she says to Poseidon, “You spend too much time on the shore for a god of the sea.”

He glances at her, and his eyes are green just like hers, are cold and uncaring just like hers used to be. She wonders what her eyes look like now. “Caeneus is on the shore.”

“Bring him here if you’re so concerned with your mortal,” she says, focusing on weaving shells into her hair and giving the impression that she couldn’t care less what he does with his mortal plaything. “The palace is big enough.”

He stops and turns to her, eyebrow raised. “You do not mind me bringing him here?”

“Do with your mortal as you wish,” she repeats, and stamps down on the trembling joy in her chest, “It’s no concern of mine.”


Caeneus doesn’t know how to love a god of the sea. He knew how to love Poseidon – take him onto the water to watch the sunrise, feed him warm, sweet drinks, and let him curl around him at night and listen to his stories of his siblings, of impossible gods who do impossible things.

But now he sits in a palace under water, with his own room and the freedom to see the other side of the ocean he loves so dearly. There are no sunsets here, no cocoa to barter for, and Poseidon doesn’t tell him stories any more.

Poseidon still loves him. He kisses him and holds his hips when they sleep together and keeps him by his side while he crosses the sea and gains more and more control over this domain that he now commands. Poseidon still loves him, he tells himself when he itches to return to the surface and the home Poseidon build for him, and the life he built for himself.

He didn’t want to be a consort of the king of sea. He just wanted to be Caeneus, a man who loved a man and was loved in return, a man who loved the sea even though it would never love him back.

The sea will never love him back. He’s known that since he was a child, so the real question is – how much of the Poseidon he knew is left, and how much of him the depths of the ocean?


There’s a hurricane that requires her husband’s attention, and even he is not so foolish as to bring his lover to a place as dangerous as that. Which means it’s the perfect time for her to run into him in the interior gardens, as he stares up through the iridescent seaweed to the rays of sunlight that just manage to penetrate the water. “Do you miss it?” she asks him, and he startles, swinging around to face her and stumbling away.

“My lady!” he says, and falls to his knees before her, bowing his head. It’s what she expects of all mortals, but not from him, never from him. The heart in her chest loves him, and if it’s not her heart, well – the rest of her doesn’t know the difference. “A thousand apologies.”

“You are welcome here,” she says, and smiles. She’s never smiled quite like this before, she’s never felt quite like this before, fond and fluttery and so painfully eager that it would be embarrassing if she ever dared articulate it. It’s a wonder Poseidon managed to get anything done at all if this is what he had in his chest.

He looks up, hesitant, and she holds out her hand. He takes it, and she pulls him to his feet, pulls him closer until they’re nearly touching and he’s forced to look up into her eyes or be stuck staring at her chin. He’s warmer than her, she can feel the heat pouring off him in waves, and she wants him to hold her in his arms so she can languish against him like she would a sun-warmed rock.

Before she had a heart, she took who and what she wanted, when she wanted it.

Now she has a heart, and she takes his hands in both of hers and says, “Would you like to visit the surface? I can take you, and bring you back before my husband returns.”

He’s hesitant because he’s afraid of her. Caeneus will never love her, because although she holds the heart he loves she is not the person the heart belongs to. Not that he knows any of that, not that anyone will ever know the details of her and Poseidon’s arrangement. But she doesn’t want Caeneus to be afraid of her. She wants him to smile at her like she is a sunrise. “Yes, please,” he decides on finally.

She stands and watches as he walks through his home, as he touches the hearth and looks longingly at the bed, as he stands in the small cottage that he clearly prefers over her palace, over all the riches and adoration that comes with being consort to the sea.

Caeneus is a simple man, whose heart loves with a simple love.

He is a man whose heart loves someone who now has no heart, and Amphitrite can’t bring herself to tell him. She’s the one who took it away, and she won’t give it back.

She likes having a heart, and one day she will need to return it, but not now, not yet, not for a long time.


Caeneus lies besides Poseidon, curled up so his head rests on the god’s outflung arm and he can watch his chest rise and fall as he sleeps. There are bruises on Caeneus’s hips and down his chest, bite marks on his shoulder and up his neck. It’s not the first time his lover has been rough with him, and he doesn’t mind, like that Poseidon doesn’t touch him like he’s afraid he’ll break, likes that whenever he’s rough he’s careful enough with his strength not to ever cross the line from bruising to breaking.

It’s different than it used to be. It’s been different for a long time, ever since Poseidon somehow convinced the Lady to hand over her title as monarch, to share her power with him for no reason that Caeneus can see. It’s not love between them, because the sea does not love. But she got something out of it, something valuable enough to bargain away part of her power, and as soon as she did the man Caeneus loves ceased to exist.

He slides out of bed and angrily rubs at his eyes. He can’t do this anymore, can’t sleep and live with this man who has his lover’s face and memories and nothing else.

He knows this palace well, and everyone else knowns him too. The servants don’t question him, only offer shallow bows before hurrying on his way. He’s a fisherman who lives on the outskirts of society. He’s not any sort of person that people were meant to bow to. He stands in front of an ornate set of carved doors, the beautiful shimmering inside of a muscle shell of impossible size. Two guards stand at each door, but neither move to stop him as he pushes it open and slips inside.

“Lady?” he whispers. Large, bioluminescent carvings flare to life all across the room, bathing them in soft golden-green light. Amphitrite pulls herself out of bed, green hair loose around her and the rest of her on display, pale and flawless, as perfect an example of a beautiful woman as Caeneus has ever seen, and he averts his gaze. “Lady!”

“So modest,” she teases, and when he glances over she’s in a simple white robe and pulling her hair up behind her. She looks vulnerable like this, almost like his mother did when she would rouse him and his father from sleep in the darkness of early morning so they could catch the fish while they were still sleeping. “What’s going on Caeneus? I thought my husband had exclusive rights to your nights,” she winks, and he forces a smile.

He walks over to her, takes her hands in his because he knows she likes how warm he runs compared to her, and her smile slips off her face. “Please,” he whispers, “Poseidon is different than he once was, and I want to know why. Please.”


She shouldn’t tell him, but the heart in her chest loves him, and she loves him too, thinks she would even without Poseidon’s heart influencing her.

So she tells him, and when he starts crying she brushes away his tears and he doesn’t stop her. “He’ll never love you like he once did,” she tells him, “It’s not that he doesn’t want to, he just can’t.”

“The sea doesn’t love you back,” he says, because he knows, because he’s a skilled sailor, because he’s one of the people who has worshipped her his whole life without ever expecting anything back, because that’s what an ocean gives back – nothing at all. “Can – can I give you my heart?”

She stares. “Excuse me?”

“Let me give you my heart,” he pleads, “so that I may hold Poseidon’s in my chest. You can have mine, I know I’m only a mortal–”

“You’re all mortal to me,” she says, because a hundred years, a thousand, ten thousand, what does it matter – she and Gaia were around long before gods and humans, and they’ll be around long after them. “If I give you Poseidon’s heart, you will become a god.”

He pales and flinches away from her. He’s not in this for power, this was never about power to him. It was always about love. “Lady, I’m not trying to – I don’t want that.”

“If you become a god,” she continues, because she loves him and that means she wants him to be happy, even at her own expense, “you will be alive when the time comes for me to reclaim my title of monarch. One day I will take back my heart from Poseidon, will reclaim the cold, black thing in his chest as my own, and when I do he will no longer be master of the sea. When I do, you can give him back his heart, and he will love you as he loved you before, as he will always love you.”

Caeneus has a hand over his chest and there’s so much hope shining in his eyes that it’s almost painful to look at. “Please, Lady. Please. I love him, let me carry his heart, let me have him back once you are done. I will wait.”

“It will be a long time,” she answers honestly, “Empires will rise and fall before I’m willing to give this up, before Poseidon will be willing to give up his power over the sea.”

“I will wait,” Caeneus repeats, “I love him. If you have my heart, maybe you will grow to love him too. If you have my heart, you will protect him, you will keep him safe.”

Amphitrite loves Caeneus, and Caeneus loves Poseidon, and Poseidon is incapable of loving anyone at all. “Very well,” she whispers, because a heart is a heart, and just like Poseidon she’s unable to deny Caeneus anything.

She breaks open her chest and takes out the warm, beating heart of Poseidon. She slits open Caeneus’s chest for him, and holds him upright while struggles to take out his heart and clumsily places in into her chest. She heals over instantly, and nestles Poseidon’s heart in Caeneus’s ribcage. He too heals over, and his eyes flash with power as the heart settles inside of him.

Caeneus becomes so much more than a mortal man in that moment.

This heart doesn’t feel too different, she still loves Caeneus because she’s capable of loving and he is worthy of it. “Go,” she says, “Say your goodbyes, and leave. If you stay, he’ll just continue hurting you, and in a few thousand years he’ll hate himself for it. Leave now, and spare both of you that pain.”

He leans forward and cups her face in his hands, kissing her on each cheek. “Thank you,” he breathes, and then he’s gone.


Caeneus can feel the power of a god flowing into him, but he doesn’t care about that, the only reason he’s glad he’s a god now is so he’ll live long enough to get Poseidon back, to get the Poseidon who loves him back.

He goes back to where Poseidon is sleeping, and takes a long, careful look. It will be a long time before he sees this man again. He kisses him on the lips, softly and carefully, the way Poseidon first kissed him when he thought he was sleeping.

Then he leaves, stepping outside the palace and using his newly gained powers to bring himself to the shore.


Poseidon is furious, bur Amphitrite won’t budge, says only that Caeneus left. He throws a temper, and half the palace is lost in the aftermath, but she does not care.

She doesn’t tell him that she no longer carries his heart. It doesn’t matter. Caeneus’s heart beats in her chest, and she sits on her throne amongst the rubble and does nothing more than sigh at the way he threatens to tear the world apart looking for his lover. It will pass. The depth and coldness of the sea is unable to sustain such fits of wild passion.

Years pass. Rumors reach them of a sea god, one who is known for rescuing sailors and fisherman from storms, one who they say used to be a mortal fisherman himself.

They call him Glaucus, and say that he swallowed a magical herb to become a god.

She smiles when she hears these rumors, and thankfully Poseidon has long given up trying to get her to explain herself. The rumors are only half right, but she likes hearing them none the less.

It comforts her to hear that Caeneus is well.

gods and monster series, part xiii

read more of the gods and monsters series here

A kind person asked me to post some of my older works so here’s a little compilation! The top row is “frontal, hands behind back, pencil only” drawings, middle is the dawn of digital art, and bottom are my most recent pictures.