#protect the art protect people around it etc etc

[dnangelic]

i would never 'hes just misunderstood he did nothing wrong' dark because a) he makes himself perfectly clear abt what hes doing and b) Loves Doing Wrong but explaining that its somehow still for the sake of a greater (magical girl) good when he's the sort of person that like, snarls supportively at u is arguably more difficult for me as a mun trying to talk to other muns than any other possibility

#*･ﾟ⊰ 𝐎𝐔𝐓 𝐎𝐅 𝐂𝐀𝐑𝐃𝐒. ⊱ ✦ › OUT. #mw dark mousy has nuance and a shit ton of complicated facets : oh no #its meta for him not to be understood so i can roll with that but at the same time #me constantly: oh no #JBAAKJKJGKJ #this guy is absolutely breaking 24849898 laws and doing all kinds of shit hes legally not supposed to #but the bottom line for him and him very specifically. esp compared to other phantom thief figures #is he steals so he can protect!!!!! #protect the art protect people around it etc etc #there are selfless reasons to his selfishness that are v important #but he never ever uses that as an excuse #that's the cool part abt him tbh #he knows hes a thief its his entire thing its his whole existence. hes gonna own it #still doesnt make him look any less of some kinda fucked up anime villain of the week from a diff show #BUT WHATEVER

[halcyone-of-the-sea]

FROM FAR DISTANT WATERS

PAIRING: Merman!John Price x F!Artist!Reader

SYNOPSIS: There’s something in the water - you're going to figure out what it is, and why it chose to save you.

WORDCOUNT: 16.8k

WARNINGS: Blood, murder, death/near death, assault, injury, gore, mystery, mentions of suicide, angst, protective!John, pining, sickness, etc.

*I do not give others permission to translate and/or re-publish my works on this or any other platform*

The little boat rocks as it slips through the expansive water, a thin hanging of mist in the air. The curtain-like film it leaves makes it nearly impossible to see the dark rocks of the shore a far distance away, and the dip and push of the oars through the chilled waves leaves splashing droplets connecting to your cheeks. You touch the flesh delicately, brushing away the spray as your eyes slide over dark, lapping water—deeper than anything. 

In your lap, sitting below the high waist of your skirt, was your sketchbook; the tweed material was all the rage these days, though you never focused much on that. The thick item kept out the chill of the, very, early morning, and that was all you cared about, though, it seemed you lacked the foresight to pack a proper coat. A large woolen shawl sat over your shoulders, hiding the plain white blouse but not its cuffs; not the slight poof of the bottom part of the sleeves. 

Your numb fingers fiddle with the pencil in your hands, your open sketchbook filled with page after page of images ranging from the common sea-bird to great ships and shorelines. 

“I still have to ask why you feel the need to tag along,” is the voice that breaks the silence, and you blink away from the cloud of condensation from your exhalation. Your ear twitches, but only a small flick of a smile pulls your lips at the older man’s garbled words. “So cold my damn hands are going to fall off. Why am I always the one bloody working the oars?”

Otto Whitworth was a man far into his later years—one who entertained your fascination with the raging waters and the need to immortalize them on paper; that draw to the sights and sounds. Graying, covered now in a large coat and his boots, with the long fishing rod knocking around by your feet, he grumbles more than he speaks sentences, content with only the pipe in his breast pocket and the promise of fresh fish for breakfast. 

“Oh, it’s not so bad,” you chuckle, glancing over at his wrinkled face—the glare of dark eyes set into a deep browline that’s more for show of annoyance than genuine emotion. “Gets the blood pumping harder, Mr. Whitworth.” Your vision slides to the shadows of the black rocks, and your pencil finds your palm before the sound of it meeting parchment echoes over the nothingness. “Isn’t it lovely? Listen to the Gannets.”

“Don’t need my blood pumpin’ harder,” the old man grinds out, scoffing. “Gonna make my fuckin’ heart stop, Girl…” Otto sighs, shaking his head as you chuckle. He growls under his breath. “And, no, I’m not listening to the birds—they’ll be trying to steal my fish soon enough. Greedy bastards.”

Your eyes roll in their sockets, pencil shading in the rough shapes of misty rocks, your face cold but still eager for something. There was a type of magic to this place—to Southern England and the small coast town you had settled in nearly a year ago: Redthorpe. 

It seemed your talent for the arts was appreciated here, you had a shop to your name and friendly compliments from the locals every time the door was pulled open. People here liked the attention to detail in a place where they had most likely lived for a good ninety percent of their lives.

You tilt your head at the paper as Otto lets the oars drop back into the water, grasping for his fishing rod that you kindly move closer with your foot. 

The man takes up the item and sets the line, whipping back the pole and snapping it forward with a wizz and a grunt—a cracking of old bones. 

“Now hush,” Otto sighs, settling back. 

You send a silent look upward, and at the same time as he does, you say out loud in a soft voice.

“You’ll scare away the fish with all that blabber.”

A heavy glare is leveled at you, but you raise a hand innocently and laugh under your breath. 

“I’m as silent as the fish, Mr. Whitworth.”

“Cheeky Bird,” Otto sighs loudly, shifting in his seat until he faces the water, eyes glinting. “You’re too wild for this place, then, eh?”

“For most places,” you breathe, smiling as you study the rocks again before going back to your work. It’s only after there were the wiggling bodies of three fish set into a fisher’s basket that the oars are taken back up and the silent water is again forced back by ripples. 

Pencil finding the middle of the spine, you close your sketchbook, the routine is as simple as it always is. Otto will complain about having you at his dock, he’ll begrudgingly invite you in and cook three fish: one for him, the second for his cat, Harriet—older than England itself and missing most teeth; as blind as a bat—and then, finally, you. After that you’re back in your shop finishing up your piece of the misty shoreline, working until the candle burns through both ends and the oil paints are swirling colors as your eyes bug. Bed, and finally, repeat. 

A splash of water makes you blink quickly, your head jerking over at the slide of movement from the corner of your vision. Eyes wide, you swear a fin had cut the surface of the water like a knife through butter. 

Your body moves closer to the side of the boat immediately, leaning over eagerly. 

“Hey!” Otto barks, steadying himself as the vessel shakes back and forth. Your eyes shimmer, a smile overtaking your lips. “Watch yourself—you’ll send me overboard!”

“Did you see that?” Your eyes dart over the water. “I think I saw a fin.” 

“You got excited over a fish?” The older man’s voice is unimpressed, hissing in the crackling of age. “Hell, I got three in the basket if you’re that bloody impressed.”

“Shh,” you wave one of your hands, unblinking. “It was bigger than a fish, Otto!” 

Your ears twitch to his scoff, his hands grasping the oars harder before he shoves the boat forward. Body looming, the intense pull of adventure dims the longer nothing happens, and after a minute or two of dead mist and water, you hum under your breath like a fool and sit back.

“Lost it,” your numb lips murmur, breath puffing out softly. “Damn.” You shake your head as the wooden dock gets closer, more boats tied and shifting with the waves. “It was strange,” you admit. “Like a deep navy color—with specs of silver along the spine.”

Otto pauses, his hands tight over the oars. He blinks over at you, face for the first time showing an emotion other than annoyance. You barely notice before the sheen of crafted blankness is back. 

You smile down the length of the boat, curiosity plain to see. “Do you know of any animal like that around here?”

“No,” Otto grunts out quickly, and your excitement dims sharply, blinking through shock. 

Your brows furrow after the silence falls stiffly—the boat had never been uncomfortable to you, the atmosphere quiet, of course, but always easy to charter. Now the air was…muddy. Something had changed as fast as a fish being yanked out of water. 

Fingers twitching, you sit back slowly onto the plank, pulling your sketchbook the tiniest bit closer to your abdomen. Face open, Otto continues to row and the entire ride is silent until the boat is docked and tied to the pole by calloused hands. Your digits grasp your shawl and wrap the fabric harder, shifting down to hide your chin into the wool as you shiver. 

“...Need help?” You ask, eyes still shifting back to the water like always. 

There’s something now that makes your attention drift like the waves themselves—and it wasn’t only the shadows of the rise and fall, it was Otto’s strange behavior. The man wasn’t one to just say one word and nothing more. He could bounce off you like it was a game; you often thought he enjoyed your company just so he could insult someone. Jokingly, of course. It was the companionship he craved, it was why he always let you on his boat in the mornings. 

Otto lived alone. You never asked about it. 

“Don’t need any help,” he grumbles out, tying off the last knot to the pole and stepping back with a smirk of satisfaction. “M’not in the grave yet, Girl. Been working the boats since I was out my mum’s womb.”

“Feel sorry for her.” Your mutter meets the air as light streaks through the mist. Breathing hot air into your free hand, you rub it over your arm repeatedly and sigh, fingers of the other limb tightening over your book. Absentmindedly, your head turns back to the open water one last time, for one last glimpse of anything you want to commit to memory while you paint—

The fin is back. 

“Otto!” Feet swiftly dart to the end of the dock, you stop only an inch away as your skirt whips over. “It’s back! Look!” 

A hand grasps your wrist and yanks you away. 

Gasping sharply, you stumble until the harsh bark of, “Get back!” echoes across the dock just as it does through your ears. 

“Whoa!” You’re quickly let go of, a shadow shielding you from the view of the water as you scramble to make sure your sketchbook won’t slip from your hold. Head jerking to stare in shock at the middle of Otto’s curved spine, your heart stutters in confusion and a bit of hesitation befitting one who was just manhandled. Standing up straight again, your tight face pulls in, the pound of your heart telling you something is wrong. 

Glancing past a still frozen Otto, the water is utterly devoid of life again—only ripples to show there had ever really been something there at all. 

“You go back to the ocean,” Otto yells, spittle flying from his mouth, fishing boots stomping against the wood as he moves forward a step, pointing. “Go back to the bloody hole you swam out of! There’s nothing for you here! Nothing!” 

You watch, struck dumb. 

“...Mr. Whitworth?” Your lips mutter out, eyebrows shifting from the waves to the man—utterly confused down to your chilled bones. Who was he talking to?

Perhaps time had caught up to him—was he mistakenly taking the rocks for people? The waves for whispers? All you had seen was a fish’s fin, nothing more, nothing less.

“Otto,” you call again, concerned. You should get the man inside; get him warm and let him cook his breakfast. “Let’s just go.” Your eyes blink lightly, fingers twitching over your book. “Alright…? My eyes must have been playing tricks on me, it’s nothing important.”

His form waddles past you, more in tune to his sea legs than the ones on land, and under his breath, you hear him snarl out a low, “You’ll not take her like you did Eleanor. Mark my words, I’ll be stringing you up by the tail first.” 

Withered hand connecting with your shawl’s edge, you’re dragged back with more force than you’d anticipate Otto still having, but you go with him nonetheless. 

Looking at the water, there’s nothing to see beyond the stretch of nothingness.

—

You dare to ask when you’re pushing the fish bones over to the side of your plate, slipping some mashed-up scraps to Harriet who lays in your lap purring. The rough scrape of a tongue licks your fingers, and deep gray fur caresses your palm.

“Who were you talking to back there?” Your voice carries over the small hut that Otto calls his own, the sounds of the water meeting the rocks plainly heard seeing as his property was as close to the cliffs as you could get without going over them. “I never took you for someone to believe in spirits.” The joke was a small jab, but even your own amusement was dim in the situation. Your hand puts down the fork and moves to rest along Harriet’s back, lightly petting the old cat as her half-missing tail flicks in satisfaction.

The man’s back over at the sink tightens. 

“You watch yourself near the waters, Girl,” Otto grunts, dark eyes glancing over his shoulder. “By God, you watch yourself. There’s things out there—terrible things.” 

“What kinds of ‘terrible things,’ Otto?” Your head tilts, sketchbook resting still on the table, your gaze flickering to it. Terrible had a nice ring to it. But something else was swirling in your gut now, a hesitation of a special sort that only comes out with the unknown paths of life. 

What could make a man born and bred on the waters so reserved when speaking about them? Your interest had been piqued—your curiosity unsated until you were given a clear answer. You’d only been here a year, that wasn’t enough time to know the secrets of Redthorpe; to be let into those deeper circles. 

Otto licks his cracked lips, the wrinkles of his face leaving behind something akin to a scrunched dog’s visage—worn by time and improper care from the damage of the sun. He’d been at work on his boat for decades, and while you took his advice with a grain of salt usually,  this time he carried himself differently: you wanted to know why. 

He glares with no venom, taking out the scrubbed pan from the soapy water and barking, “What’s it with the younger generation and their bloody pushing? Listen to what I’m telling you and take it as it is, Girl. You don’t go on the water,” he blinks, face grim, “unless I’m the one ferryin’ you through it, eh? That’s the end of it. I’ll say no more.” 

Frowning heavily, you sigh under your breath and shake your head. Letting your eyes slip down to Harriet, you scratch under her chin and stare into her milky eyes as she lets out a little chirp.

“So much for answers,” your lips mutter. 

But a fire had been lit in your breast now—a low simmering pull like a rope had been tied to your wrist, drawing you closer and closer to the rocky shore, to a boat tied on the dock which you knew was steadily rocking to the deep, dark waves of this isolated place. 

To a navy-colored fin in the water, and a shape far larger than any you’d seen before. 

Blinking to look out the window of Otto’s home, your eyes find the ocean, and the longing that you’d always had for it grows ten times larger as your sketchbook begs to be filled.

—

It was only fate, you guessed, that you had come to Redthorpe—a tiny, unimportant dot on the map—when the way of life you’d chosen had led you astray. This place was a way to start over. Fix yourself. You’d picked the least-known town in all of Europe, and that was exactly what you wanted.

One trait, though, that could never be squashed from your psyche was the lust for the unknown. It was an obsessive lover; a toxic hand on the back of your neck that dragged you back over and over, until there was only yourself to blame for the repetition of disappointment. 

It was the reason you found yourself on the shore two days after you sighted the dark fin that cut the water. 

Your lace-up boots were atop a large boulder, shifting as your body turned from left to right, eyes patiently dragging the expanse of nothing. Waves lap only inches below, spraying up to get absorbed into your skirt, shawl whipping with the wind. The breeze is stuck with the sounds of birds, the very beings darting above your head, playing their games with varying cries that sound like throaty groaning. 

Bending, your arms wrap your waist, lips flickering. You were cold, limb-numbingly so, but even if you saw nothing today, or tomorrow, the push and pull of the ocean was enough—the call of the birds, the hypnotic sway of water. Calling to you, even if it had no lips to do so. 

Taking down a lung-shaking inhale, you chuckle, sketchbook sitting in the small purse around your shoulder. 

“What am I doing?” You ask yourself, shaking your head. “It was just a big fish—that old man was just being paranoid, anyways.” Eyes caressing the line where water meets the sky, your smile pulls your chilled cheeks. “There’s nothing out here worth my time. I need to finish my work.” 

Leaning back, you rub your hands up and down your biceps, nonetheless enjoying your time despite the burning of something in the back of your head. A knowledge that the fin was nothing documented before? A hope of discovery? A need for adventure? Oh, who can really say—what can be known are only three things: 

One, the weather was getting worse, two, the water was getting wilder, and, three, you had forgotten the way the rock you were standing on had shifted when you stepped up to it. Shuffling, your boots connect to the right corner, and your hands extend to keep your balance as you hiss a low breath, purse beginning to slip. 

There’s a gruff call from the water.

“Careful, then.”

Your head snaps up to the sound of a man’s voice, and you startle sharply, gasping as your foot slips. A quick cry is all you get out before you’re suddenly plummeting downwards headfirst into the frigid water. 

The feeling of liquid is all-consuming as it seeps into your nostrils and ears, all sound muffled entirely beyond the roar of it leaving you so stupendously—a flare, and then nothing. Eyes bugging, limbs slashing through the waves, the chill hits you in the chest with the force of a stone, smashing through your ribs to weigh you down with concrete stuck in your lungs. It was entirely a bodily reaction to gasp. 

Through the blue and the bubbles, you start to drown. 

Fingers twitching, you claw at nothing as the darkness settles its hands over your panicked eyes, not for a moment thinking about who had called to you in the first place—or who was poking a head out of the water before you’d gone over. Obviously, it was a trick of your senses; no one could survive being out in water like this.

You certainly weren’t going to. 

Legs slashing, something is darting in the corner of your eye before your vision fails, but the rapid fear in your heart masks the hand gripping at your shirt’s collar. It hides even the feeling of strong arms until the point where you’re yanked upwards with little effort as one curls your waist. It doesn't hide, however, the way you vomit up water as you’re heaved to the rocky shore moments later.

Choking, you hack up salt that burns your esophagus until your lunch quickly follows—all spilled with little care for your hands caught in the crossfire. Spine arching as if a cat, air can’t come sweeter as it is drawn in rapidly; nearly hyperventilating on the ocean-smooth stones as your clothes are utterly ruined. 

Panting, gasping, shivering violently, your head pulls itself weakly upward. It doesn’t take long for your mind to scream at you, and your head snaps behind you in a panic.

But there’s nothing but the raging water and the splash of a large navy-colored tail as big as your entire body disappearing back into the depths. 

Your fear can only stay for so long before the threat of a frigid death becomes more and more probable. In your race back up the cliff face to your shop, your purse is completely forgotten, trapped on the top of that shaky rock where it had fallen from your shoulder before the great plunge. 

Your shawl is seen floating out to the open water before it’s grasped from below and suddenly plucked—vanishing without a single trace.

—

The fire rages with the inferno of a million suns, and it’s not nearly hot enough. Wrapped in every blanket, sheet, and warm item available, you still can’t stop shivering hours later. A teacup was stuck in your hands, the liquid sloshing over the edges to slip over your quivering fingers and absorb into the cocoon of heat. 

Breathing through your shaky lungs, you keep the rim of the cup to your lips, eyes wide and horrified. In the still moments after you’d stripped and tried to stop the onset of sickness that you could already feel coming, there was a flash of realization from your strange and fantastical ordeal. 

There had been a man. 

The sensation of hands around your waist—the gruff voice that had spooked you so violently. A man. In the water. Every time you blink, you see a shadowed image, a tiny glimpse as you’d turned to the sound of human speech above the shriek of birds. 

Short brown hair and narrowed blue eyes set into sockets of pale skin. A bearded face, mustache…square jaw…

“What in God’s name?” You stutter in question over your tea, shaking your head. “That isn’t possible.” 

Outside your shop, the wind screams, pushing against your exterior shutters as night sets in. A storm was coming; there’d be no other adventures for you. Sipping your drink, you shiver again, curling in tighter to yourself as wood crackles. The light dances over your easels and side tables, piled high with jars of brushes and pallets—bottles of linseed oil and liquin, labeled with little pieces of hanging paper at the necks. 

There are paintings in the tens—in the twenties—hanging on the walls and set to the corners, all blue and gray; misty and clear. The water is a staple in all of them, and the cliffs as well. Perfect imitations of this place, as if you could reach a hand through the canvas and enter a mirrored world. Great ships are in some of them, or little fishing boats, with the birds overhead. Sometimes, it’s only the water itself, and to you, those were perhaps the best of your work. 

There was a beauty in the nothingness. A mystery. Who knows what’s under that thin surface? Well…apparently, it wasn’t human. 

You swallow down saliva and your lips thin. 

The thing in the water wasn’t… unattractive, you had to admit. Beyond the waterlogged hair and dripping beard, a large nose sat—full cheeks with an odd mole over them. The more you thought about the brief flash of a visage, the more you grew to hang onto it, strangely. And that navy tail? It had been incredibly unique. 

Spiney, nearly—four thin bones going down on both sides, branching out from the tail starting with the shortest that was perhaps only as long as your hand until the final was as lengthy as your entire arm. There was webbing between each spine to help the thing through the water quickly, it spread to the end of the barb until it sunk back in a ‘U’ movement, before once more arching out again to connect with the next spine. Small gasps in the caudal fin calling to either battles or a natural state of being—for show in it…his?...species. 

Could you even assign it a human gender? 

You close your eyes tightly in your shop, trying to will the image away from yourself. “What in the hell is going on?” Your voice is scratchy and low. 

Yet, the undeniable truth was that the fish-man had saved you. It couldn’t be overlooked. Not by you, who now can sit in front of this very fire because of it. Like a moth to the flame, the surge of cautious confusion is burning your wings. 

Deep blue eyes like the ocean. A navy tail. A gruff, hard voice.

You open your eyes and glare into the fireplace. 

“What has this place been hiding in the water? And why did it bloody save my life right after it nearly ended it?” 

More importantly…you had to think of a way to get your sketchbook back without getting on its bad side.

With a heavy chest, and more than a little fear in your heart, it was resolved to do something about all of this tomorrow. There was no use leaving the shop now. Glancing at the shaking window, you could hear the ocean rampaging over the cliffs; hear the slam of the rain hitting the roof like pounding feet. 

But that voice played in your ears like a gramophone's bleated chorus. 

You shiver again, not from the cold.

Careful, then. 

—

There was no question if you’d gotten sick because of your impromptu bath in the ocean—the evidence was in your salt-covered shirt and the stockings that were still drying on the hearth. 

Pressing a handkerchief to your mouth as you cough haggardly. You’re bundled in a nice fur dress coat, walking along the street with a skipping heart, a simple cloche hat over your head to protect you from the elements; dark blue in color.

The irony was not lost this morning when the hue had a striking familiarity to a fish-like tail, but it hadn’t stayed in your hand. A small drizzle slapped the fabric, and you were thankful you had brought the hat and coat along with you on the move from the big city. 

You weakly smile and nod to the locals you consider friends—at the very least acquaintances. But before long, you’re at the place you feel you need to be to gain answers, too nervous to go back to the shore immediately.

The library.

Something Otto had said came back to you last night, in the throws of insomnia. The two sentences he’d called out on the docks that day—You’ll not take her like you did Eleanor. Mark my words, I’ll be stringing you up by the tail first.

Eleanor? Who was that and how did it correlate to the beast in the water that wears a man's face? Maybe, the local records would tell you the answer—there had to be something about this person, ‘Eleanor,’ in them, right?

If not, there was only one option left, and that was going down to the shore and getting the results first hand…you’d rather exhaust all of your resources on solid land first. 

Slipping into the library with a deep breath and a cough in your throat, you sigh and nod slightly. Time to get to work.

“Oh,” the librarian looks up from her desk, standing as you shuffle over. “Hello, Dear,” she breathes through a chuckle, eyebrows pulling in softly. “My, you look a bit under the weather, don’t you? Would you like me to get some tea going…?”

“No, thank you,” you wave an easy hand. “I’m here on a bit of an errand, actually, and I was wondering if you could help me with something? I need to ask about your records.”

“Records?” The woman’s face shifts to confusion, her body slipping out to stand next to yours, you bring back up your handkerchief and sneeze into it, groaning. “What kind were you thinking, then?”

After you can push away the sheen of sickness to your eyes you take a breath and clear your throat of the stuffiness. “Births and work records? Addresses?” You make a small noise in the back of your mouth. “I guess I don’t know…anything that might help me?”

The librarian chuckles a bit, amused. “How about you tell me what it is you’re looking into, and I’ll try and grab any public knowledge that I can find. We’ll work together, then.” 

Weight is loosened from your shoulders and you nod appreciatively. “Deal.”

“Go on then,” she walks over to a shelf on the far side of the room, standing as her fingers run the spines. “Occupation I can start with, Dear?”

“Well…” you pause, shuffling after as your head looks from one sizable book to another. “No, unfortunately. Only a first name.”

“You’re lucky Redthorpe is small,” the woman laughs. “Otherwise I would have told you you’re lacking your senses with only something like that to go off of.” 

“Eleanor,” you comment, licking your lips and staring at a spine labeled ‘1890-1900 financial records - Redthorpe’. “E-L-E-A-N-O-R, or at least that’s the common spelling, I believe.” 

The librarian’s body is stone-still. Comparable to the immovable rocks of the shore as the waves bash against them; the raging of the wind. When you glance over, confused at the silence that infects the building, you’re reduced to a meek hesitation at the blank eyes that dig into your face. 

“...Or…maybe it’s N-O-R-E?” 

“I’m sorry, but I can’t help you,” is the hurried answer, and then the woman moves past with fast feet, heels clicking over the hardwood rapidly. “There hasn’t been an Eleanor in Redthrope. You’re mistaken.” 

“Wait,” you follow, stuttering. “I don’t understand, there has to have been—Otto was talking about her not days ago!”

“You’re mistaken,” is the repeated, firm answer, the librarian’s body swirling to face you again, pointing a finger at you. “Go back to your shop. Mr. Whitworth is old, he sees things that aren’t there. Don’t take what he says to heart—”

“I saw it!” You bark, fed up. Your mind was sick of these games being played, left out of the loop like you hadn’t formed a relationship with the people of this town. 

The woman’s mouth locked shut with a clack of teeth, something darting over her expression…fear?

She backs up slowly. “I…I don’t know what you’re talking about, Dear.”

Your lips twist, a threatening sneeze in the back of your nose. “I’m done with the word games! It dragged me out of the water like a sack of flour and tossed me to shore! It saved me!” Her hands are held in front of her as you stalk closer, trying to brush what you’re telling her aside as she struggles to string words. 

“It…it wouldn’t do that—that’s not how it acts. You’re just imagining things; you’re under the weather!”

“Who’s Eleanor?” You huff, stubborn as you cross your arms in front of you. “And what in the hell is a man with the tail of a fish doing living just below these cliffs?”

Wide eyes meet glaring ones, and the librarian’s lips move up and down in a panic. 

“I…” she begins, feet tapping the floor nervously as the rafters creak above the both of you. “I can’t talk about it. It’s not something to be said out loud—especially so close to the water.” 

You bark incredulously, “There’s a bloody monster that lives down in—!”

A hand is snapped over your mouth and you startle, blinking through the twitch of your body. 

“Shh!” The librarian panics, shaking her head, with flaring eyes. “Stop it or you’ll end up being dragged down to the ocean floor like Eleanor was!” You tense behind the hold, shoulders pulled in. It’s a quick spit of whispered words like a fast breeze. “Do you want your body showing up on the rocks?! Stay away from it!”

Your heart pounds in your chest, vision darting back and forth before she finally lets you go in a quick jerk of her body. The woman backs up, quivering as her eyes go to the window, nearly panting from fear. 

She looks back at you, blinks, and mutters out a quiet, “If you’ve already seen it, it wants you. Don’t go back to the water,” before she rushes into the back room and slams the door shut with the slipping of the lock. 

Left standing in the open library, the shelves sit stationary as if sentinels to your raw distress—this had only left you with more questions and a handful of jumbled answers. 

“Careful, then.”

You shake your head harshly and pivot to leave the library in a stupor, shoving your chin back down into your coat’s collar as the wind slaps your face once more. The call of the ocean is like a knife to the back of your neck.

—

Call you whatever name in the book, but you wanted your sketchbook back.

No one in town was giving you anything that was of use, and Otto was tighter-lipped than a lockbox. There was only so much you could do—could speculate—before the need for your belongings was too strong to ignore. It took two more days of pacing your shop before it was decided. 

Taking up the heavy cast-iron pan above your fireplace, you slip the thing into your coat, shove on your hat with a defiant grunt, and force the front door open. It’s a ten-minute walk to the shore, and all the way there, dread fills you up like soup until you’re bloated with it by the time your boots hit black rocks. Yet, there’s a point where a woman’s courage outweighs the sense of caution, and today was currently that day. 

Taking a deep breath to steady your nerves, you grab your skirt and hike it up, placing your boot carefully on the first of the larger stones leading out to where you’d been previously. 

“Don’t look at the water,” you mutter quietly as you move, not shuffling forward until you know the rock isn’t going to topple this way or that. “Don’t even think about it.”

But that tail…that face…

With a growl under your breath, you grind your teeth and continue on. 

The weather today was much more agreeable, but cold. It was always chilled in Redthorpe—dreary as if the clouds never left far above. You didn’t mind, and in your coat pocket, the reassuring weight of your pan left you much warmer than you’d like to admit. 

The heat of protection, so to speak.

“Even a fish-man can die, I’d wager,” you utter, grunting as you ascend a larger rock, palm slapping the wet stone before you heavy upwards, slamming your boot to the top much like a schoolboy as your skirt bunches. “If I hit him hard enough in the skull. I wonder though,” you sneeze, shuddering, “if he even bleeds? If I crack his head open…will blood seep out, or salt water?” 

You shiver, and it’s not from the cold. “Fucking hell, you do like making it harder on yourself, don’t you.”

Lightly panting, you brush down your coat on the top of the rock and turn to look at the boulder where you’d fallen previously, blinking. Pausing, your eyes find not only your sketchbook sitting there…but also your shawl. 

Struggling for a moment to try and justify your actions, you swiftly look over the surface of the water, seeing the gentle push and pull of waves. No fin. No tail. 

You aren’t sure if the feeling in your chest is joy or disappointment.

Licking your lips, you take a large breath before your face turns grim.

“Grab it and run,” your voice echoes in your own head, heart pounding with adrenaline the more steps you take to the boulder, water sloshing at the sides. You had thought perhaps that the rain—the storm—would render all of your lost belongings null, but as you bent and snatched your items to you, shawl hanging from your arm, you were pleasantly surprised. It was all dry; impossibly so. 

Amid your shock, your slack jaw, and the weight of your pan in your coat, your shaky fingers open your book with bated breath. 

Everything was in pristine condition, if not only slightly curled at the corners due to…your eyebrows pull in, expression struggling to take on the emotion of anything other than pure awe.

“Fingerprints?” 

Eyes slipping from one page to the next, flipping them only to see the press and pull of a long gone thumb, shiting the paper to gaze at the back, where a forefinger would have been. A hand laced in water had been turning the pages, just as you do now—and, yet, there wasn’t an inch that was damaged; nothing smeared. 

Shoulders loosening from their tensed position, your wide stare is utterly transfixed as your digits rub the material softly, feet shifting. 

Lowering your sketchbook, your small huff of amazed laughter, mind running. 

He’d been going through your drawings—he’d somehow protected these items from the rain and salt. How? Why? But another question wrapped its hands in your skull.

Did he like them?

Shuffling the book into the crook of your arm, you carefully wrap your shawl over the material to further keep it safe, not able to find your purse, though the only thing it ever held was your sketchbook in the first place; it wasn’t too important. 

Rising your head again, you gaze openly outward, lips opening and closing in a small stutter. Was he out there, this strange creature with a strong face and those deep eyes? That navy tail, looking like a beautiful imitation of kelp…was it just under where you now study the waves?

So many questions, so few answers. 

You clear your throat, holding your items tighter. There’s magnetism in your blood, and it sits on your tongue like salt.

“Thank you!” Your voice calls high, joining the chorus of birds far above on the cliffs. Eyes skating the rocks, the shore, the ocean, everything. Call you prideful, but perhaps the best way to gain your favor is to know that someone, whatever bit strange and fantastical, had enjoyed your work to the smallest degree. 

The way your eyes spark is still embarrassing, though, but it comes naturally after the heat that simmers over your face. 

“Truly,” you shout to the wind. “You have no idea how much this means! If you’re listening, I’d like to extend my gratitude…” Your face is beaming, and you can convince yourself that all of your fear over this is gone, even if that would just plainly be untrue. “My artwork is everything to me, I do hope you enjoyed it!” 

A creature so easily curious about your skills wouldn’t drag you to the bottom of the ocean…right? 

Hell, he’d already had a chance to do that—a perfect one—and yet, here you are. What the Librarian had said had to be false, it made no sense otherwise.

Seeing nothing, and knowing that you were needed back at your shop, you chuckle under your breath and back up swiftly, walking the distance back to the surrounding rocks and slipping off softly. Grunting under your breath, your boots hit the stone, and you carefully begin back-tracking. 

“You’re good at it,” you halt in a fraction of a second. “The images. Where’d you learn to do that?”

It’s a long moment before you turn with a cautious tilt to your head, and find the very same visage as you had a glimpse of days ago. You fight a fast inhale, but your straightening spine tells all the story it needs to. Like a fool, you lose the words in your mouth, as if trying to catch a bird of prey with a butterfly net.

A strong face is poking out of the water only a mere five feet away.

Your eyes slip to the soaked beard, the peak of bare shoulders—broad, of course—and the prying orbs that you feel will never leave; he wades there, arms under the dark water only a flash of pale skin before they’re gone again. 

“I…” you lick your lips, blinking through the moment of animalistic panic. You were on land, there was nothing to fear. The sight was still something to be remembered, though. “I was self-taught, Sir.” 

Blue eyes blink, serious face only made more so by the twitching of his large nose, which water drips from periodically. Droplets stay stuck to his dark lashes, and you’re near bursting with questions. 

But silence persists long after your sentence filters out to nothing.

“You pulled me from the water,” you state slowly. “And I don’t even know your name.”

The man looks you up and down, not arrogant, no, but in a way that is comparable to how you did the same to him. Studying you as if your body was strange to him. The realization almost made you laugh—perhaps it was strange to him.

You want to see that tail of his again. Your fingers itch to sketch its likeness and commit it to muscle memory. 

“I scared you,” he grumbles, sighing. “It wasn’t my intention to send you over.” Eyes still stay stuck. “My own fault.”

“I won’t deny you there,” you huff, gaze shifting away for a moment before filtering back. A slash of amusement curls in the thing’s eyes, and he hums. “Forgive me,” your breath wafts out over the air, face going what you can assume to be sheepish. It astounds you, though, that the conversation comes easily. “But I haven’t the faintest bloody clue as to what to call you.”

“John,” is the reply. Accent like gravel. He doesn’t waste his breath, seems. 

“John?” You lick your lips, legs shuffling over the stone. The name leaves you holding back a loud laugh. “Well, I suppose I could have guessed that, then. I’ve met more than enough ‘Johns’ so far.”

“Funny, are you?” The response, however dry, is tinged with something you can’t name. 

“I try,” you nod jokingly, motioning with a hand. “Just didn’t expect a man with a fishtail to act so….human. Certainly not be named like one, either.”

“Hm,” John grunts, blinking slowly. A hand slips above the water, and you watch it flex and drag to itch at the back of his neck, hair over the arm slick to the flesh. Your face heats, and your eyes dip to see the small shadow under the water almost graze the surface, rippling the waves intimately, as if tail and liquid were of the same sound mind. 

It wasn’t out of the question to say you longed for a glimpse. 

What would it feel like to touch it?

“You live here?” Your voice is hoarse before you clear it quickly. “Right below the cliffs?” 

“You’re the woman that goes out in the boat,” John firmly interjects, and you blink, taken aback. 

“Yes, that’s me.” You explain, pulling at the lip of your hat to force it down further over your head. “Otto goes fishing in the mornings—I like to sketch the shore. He isn’t the worst company, of course. He’s kind enough to let me along with him.”

But you won’t be kept down. There’s magical curiosity in your chest now.

“Your tail,” you take a step forward, boots being licked by icy water. John’s eyes widen a smidge, not expecting you to actively move closer. His head tilts as if a bird, confusion brimming though he hides it expertly. You imagined he considered you a bit mad. “Forgive me, Sir, but I must know,” your uttered rambles make his hidden lip twitch, a little twist to your expression that shows wonder. “Is it attached to you, or do you slip out of it like a pair of pants? O-or even like wearing a stage costume? Oh, it’s like nothing I’ve ever seen before.”

John can’t find the words for a moment, only able to watch and assess as he always did in times like these. You were…different, he supposed. But he knew that the moment you had shifted your body over the side of that old man’s boat—looking for a glimpse of something unknown. He could see it in your eyes. 

The water calls to you. It lives in your veins already, waiting. More salt and seaweed than earth and grass. Sand, rock, gulls, they all cry in the back of your mind, and your fingers itch to catalog them into immortality in a way that John was fascinated over—the skill of parchment and memorization. Mastery over detail.

He doesn't know why he’s speaking to you, truly. He’d done his penance; saved your life. But he knows he doesn’t dislike it, and that in and of itself needed to be understood. John couldn’t leave his analytical brain lacking an answer to a question as big as that—a woman of all things? A human one? 

Blue eyes can’t seem to slip from yours, as you await a gruff reply.

“No.” You blink, pulling back a smidge when John’s voice is low and graited. “Go back to your home. It’s late.”

“Hey, wait—!”

But he’s already gone under the waves, and you’re left with a waterlogged boot, a cast iron pan, and the two items that had survived because of a grizzly creature's compassion. Your lungs heave, and the cloud of condensation rises into a gray sky.

You stay there far longer than you’d like to admit.

—

You struggled, slipped, and climbed your way back to that point on the rocks every other day, and yet, there was nothing more to be seen of the man with the tail. You knew he was out there, felt it in your bones, and still…you were left here staring out at far-off boats and half-hopes. Wondering. Waiting. 

In the days that passed, you would explore the shore further, going in nooks and deep bends that extended into the cliffs during low tide, cringing away from the slippery fingers of kelp stuck to the walls. Dead fish, mucus-lined snails—you had made the important decision of leaving your sketchbook at home, the pages already filled with the perfect reflection of a man’s face peeking above the water. 

Taking off your hat, you huff on a similar day to those others, this time slipping inside a cave with a direct connection to the ocean. There wasn’t any wind in here—and you sigh in relief as your breeze-bitten cheeks can finally get a rest. You didn’t know what you expected to find doing all this fruitless searching, but it didn’t erase the fact that you enjoyed it; looking for a glimpse of something out of the ordinary. 

Brushing your hat of sand and other such items, your head swivels softly, a delicate smile on your face as water drips from the rock ceiling, stalactites like broken fingers reaching for the ground. A pool of sorts takes up most of this place, the thing extending to the ocean through a medium-sized opening in the stone.

You turn in a half-circle. 

“Beautiful,” your lips murmur, voice echoing. 

Walking forward, every so often your body stoops to carefully grasp shells and smoothed shards of colored glass, beaten down by waves and reduced to harmless trinkets. Continuing, you care little about your boots or your coat, only for the pull in your chest that tells you to keep going until your legs are weak and weary—shaking from a day long spent in selfish adventure.

When you find the pile of rings, sitting in soft kelp, you nearly walk right past them until the glint of metal takes you by surprise. Pausing, your pulse warms as your eyes slash to the side, getting sucked in as easily as cookies to a child. 

Only hesitating a second, you slowly walk until you’re inches away, seeing different styles and gems like starlight sitting as if unaware of their raw beauty. 

“What are you doing in here…?” You ask yourself, your own voice responding from the walls as it bounces. 

Picking up one of pure gold, you shift the band to stare openly at an emerald nearly the size of your knuckle set into it. Lips parting, it’s as if your breath is stolen by a quiet thief. But the sudden arrival of splashing snaps you out of your stupor quite quickly.

Dropping the ring immediately back into the pile, your hand jerks to your chest as an increasingly common face shows itself once more from the water. 

You clear your throat, face burning as John raises a slow brow, glancing at the stash of rings silently. 

“One day you’re going to make me keel over,” your voice berates, pointedly avoiding his blues. So the items were his. 

“A thief as well as an artist?” John asks after a moment, tilting his skull as his body drifts closer to the rocky side of the pool. The next sentence is no question, only a statement. “You’ve been looking for me.”

You take a long breath, sighing, before you shove your hat into your coat’s pocket, glaring lightly. “You left so abruptly, I never got to ask my questions. Quite rude of you to keep a lady waiting, John.”

As you say his name, he glances over, but not before his sizable hands slap to the side of the rock and he hoists himself up with a single push of his forearms. The man grunts, lips pulling, before you’re left breathless. 

Eyes stuck on the upper half of his body, the water dripping down the hair-layered bulge of visible muscle, your wide vision skates from one point to another, flesh on fire the more you stay mute. But the tail—that was something you could never describe. 

The beginning was all you could see; scales of dark navy and a spread of muddled silver-like dots, nearly impossible to make out except at this distance. They began at the top of where hips should be, the scales, smaller and blending into the skin easily, only becoming larger the more the tail extended down; the appendage was far larger than legs would be, that you can tell easily. You can’t see all of it, as perhaps a little less than half still sits swaying in the water…but even this was enough for now.

This moment would be stuck in your sketchbook for all of eternity. 

It’s only after your jaw is slackened that you realize John has been watching you the entire time.

Forcing it shut with a tiny clack of teeth, you try to regain any composure you can. The being’s beard curls in a smirk, cheek pushing to show the lines near his eyes. 

“If someone’s avoiding you, Sunshine,” he grunts out, voice low. From the corner of his eye, he watches as his hand rises to itch at his beard. “They usually don’t want to have a conversation.”

“I think it’s fair,” you huff. “You can’t just disappear when I have so many unanswered questions.”

John blinks, attention not moving for even a second. Your own is less than firm, fighting to not dart down to openly study every dip and bend of his bones. He was so…stoic. Gruff. But there were moments of amusement—even annoyed interest. 

“I don’t have time to fuckin’ entertain others,” he thins his lips. 

Your arms crossed, face dripping into seriousness. “And what else is so much more important, then?” You raise a brow. “Scaring other women into the water?”

He huffs under his breath. “It was an accident—wouldn’t have happened if you weren’t so jumpy, eh?” 

“It’s not like I expect to see fishmen pop out of the water,” you defend. 

“Mer-man, Love,” he licks his lips, sighing, as his eyes shift to glance at the opening of the cave. Your face bleeds into a slight expression of satisfaction, arms over your chest tightening as your feet rock back on their heels.

“Well,” you chuckle. “Now we’re getting somewhere.” 

An emotionless glare is all you receive. 

It was no surprise that you ended up blurting out inquiry after inquiry—what does having a tail feel like? How do you breathe underwater, or do you only hold your breath like a human? Do you have gills somewhere, or lungs? What other creatures are out there like you?

You have no idea what time it ends up being, and you have no intention of stopping soon. It’s a pleasant surprise, then, that John answers all of your quick words with full answers; giving slow, but not condescending explanations. 

A few times there had been tiny chuckles, and the little conversations amounted to you sitting on a rock right near the water, only feet away from where the tail drifts in the waves; John’s hands keeping his upper half straight as his palms meet slippery stone. 

“And the rings?” You breathlessly wonder, attention darting to the pile. “Do you find them out there? Keep them?”

John tilts his head in an affirmation. “Shipwrecks. There’ll be hundreds of them—I’m not one to keep many belongings, but the bloody things were nicely made.” He sighs. “Seemed a waste to leave them down there.”

You huff a sound of amusement. “I see. Fascinating.”

In the small pause, your eyes once more study the cave, seeing little breaks in the walls where cubby-like indents are. In them, your focus drifts from one glimmering object to another, all previously missed by you when you’d first entered. 

You blink. “You live here?”

“Affirmative,” John stares. His body shifts, tail flickering as your focus snaps back to it, almost lost in the way the ends so nimbly slice the water. Like wispy fabric. Your eyes soften like molten metal. You look back at him and find his eyes already locked to yours. 

Breath caught in your throat, you chuckle meekly to dispel your embarrassment. John’s face minutely relaxes, stern brow loosening.

“And…” you lick your lips, knowing it was time to leave. The sun no longer shines through the crack in the rock. “If I were to come back, would I be able to find you here?” 

There’s a flash of that same indecipherable emotion as before over his bushy face. 

The man was anything but small—everything to the swell of his tail; body hair for, what you assume, is to keep out the constant chill of the water. You’d never imagined that you’d find it all so attractive down to the navy scales that shimmered above the push of his side. That healthy layer of meat was eliciting far more of a physical reaction than you’d care to admit to anyone, let alone a priest of any religion during a confession.

Perhaps that fall into the water really had killed you.

“I’ll be here,” John responds lowly, gravel in his throat.

Swallowing down saliva, you push back the ravenous smile that threatens you.

“...Okay.”

—

And this affair became such a constant, that most of the people in town had begun asking about you as you snuck to the waters. Otto was largely concerned, but would not say anything more for some unseen fear—nor the Librarian, who avoided your eyes any chance she got. 

Dragged to the ocean floor. Body on the rocks. 

The sheen of discovery could be a powerful vice, and for those first two months, you never asked John about the woman named Eleanor or who she might be—what correlation she had to beasts of the water. Then again, you didn’t have to ask. He managed to get around to it himself. 

Your eyes blankly stare at the page of your sketchbook, the merman’s rough shape chicken-scratched with small lines into the parchment, and your pencil stays still to it, immobile. From across the cave, John’s face tightens as his eyelids narrow. You’d been quiet today, he had noticed. Usually so bright with your words, the walls had barely echoed with the symphony of your speech, and, more importantly, John’s ears hadn’t twitched to it. 

He had become fond of your company, he admitted to himself. A strange human woman with her fur coat and hat, the little sketchbook that held such wonderful imitations of life. John was anything but dull—he knew you drew him, and he entertained the activity. In fact, the thought at one point or another may have made the brute of a man blush a bit. So, when you were as still as the stone you sat on, he had concerns. 

He liked it when you spoke, even if it was only a tease. And the tightness of his chest when you don’t look his way is enough to leave his tail twitching in confusion as it sits in the water.

“You’re quiet today,” he starts, frowning. 

Your fingers jerk, sending a line over your paper as you blink, looking up as your heart skips a beat. Glancing at John’s face, the thoughts inside of your head slip until you can understand what he said. 

“I’m sorry,” you sigh, and the man’s face pulls. “You can speak if you want. I'm just a little distracted.”

“I didn’t mean it like that, Love, yeah?” John grunts, hands shifting over the stone. He looks you up and down, tail sitting still below him. “What happened?”

“Nothing happened,” your lips mumble, and you shake your head. “It’s one of my questions again.” You pause, closing your book. “A difficult one.”

John’s lips flicker. “Well, we’ve been at this for ages. Can’t see how this one is more difficult than the others.” He nods softly, voice a low and somewhat smooth mutter. “Go on.”

“I don’t know if I can,” you huff, standing and placing your sketchbook in the driest part of the cave before walking closer. Bending right in front of John, your face is tight. The man likes it like this—having you closer. He can feel the heat roll off you, and his eyes flutter even when nothing on his face gives away the pull he senses in his chest. 

John hums and swallows stiffly.

“Why not?” His head tilts, and he clears his throat to get rid of the raspy scrape of his vocals. “Something going on up there?”

Up there. 

The Merman had asked about Redthorpe, as well as the rest of the people who lived there. The atmosphere, the way of life. Your meetings were more of an exchange of information and stolen glances than anything else, the other none the wiser to this magnetic attraction. It was a delicate thing, knowing that there was something more and yet unable to fully express the way it makes you feel. Neither of you knows what to call it.

“More so in here,” you smile tinily, pointing at your head as your cheeks grow hot. 

“Then speak to me,” John frowns, trying a low smirk. “Think we both know I’m a good listener then, Love. There’s time,” he glances at the entrance. “Won’t be near dark for a few more hours—don’t want you climbing at night.”

“Awe,” you breathe, beaming suddenly with that glint back in your eyes. John hides the sagging of his shoulders, only offering a hum under his breath as he looks over at you. His kelp-like fins twitch, and he wonders what it would feel like to have you touch them. It was obvious you wanted to.

Not yet. 

“Hurry up, Sunshine,” John grinds out, that accent all the more sandy. 

There’s a small grunt and a shuffle, and, soon, a warm body is plotting itself next to his own, arm touching his, and a pair of bare feet slipping into the pool. Blue eyes widen in surprise, head darting to where your form rests so simply—so near the crook of his shoulder that he could reach over and draw you to him if he so wanted. 

Your feet shift as the hem of your skirt gets soggy with water, and John barks out a firm, “You’re going to get cold.” 

“It’s not as cold here as it is out there,” you shrug to him, smiling with a side-eye. “Besides, I’m right next to you—you’ll keep me warm, won’t you, John?”

“Fucking hell,” he puffs out, shaking his head as he rips it forward once more, clenching his jaw. Your scent seeps into his nose, and when your leg slips along the side of his scales under the water, he all but goes a blank-faced scarlet. 

You hide a chuckle, shivering at the chill but more so at the unimaginably smooth sensation of John’s tail over your flesh. Your legs move through the water to cross at the ankles, your right hand resting to directly touch John’s left. With every pump of your blood, his own mirrors.

Yet, your mood sobers, and the joy leaks. 

“There’s a woman that no one speaks about in Redthrope,” you begin, and John settles to listen, brows furrowing in concentration as your skin sits so well next to his own. “Eleanor.” 

The man pauses abruptly, and you keep talking.

“And for some reason,” you sigh out a low breath, turning to look at John and his still face; emotionless. “Everyone seems to blame you for whatever happened to her. I don’t know if she’s missing, or…”

Your words trail off, insinuation clear.

Not noticing any chance on John’s face, you lightly bump him with your elbow, expression going concerned. “Hey, are you alright?” Your opposite hand raises, moving out between the two of you. “I didn’t mean to insinuate anything, I would just really appreciate anything you might know about it.” Eyes imploring, your heart pours itself. “I don’t think you’d do something like that.”

John blinks slowly, finally opening his mouth. “What makes you say that?”

“If you were some murderous creature,” you shrug, “I don’t think you would have tried to pull me out of the ocean in the first place.” Lashes caressing your cheeks, you smile. “Am I wrong?”

“No,” the man huffs, quirking a brow. “No, you’re not wrong.”

“Knew it,” you whisper, eyes crinkling as you side-eye him.

John chuckles, half rolling his eyes as he leans to your ear as he grumbles. “Gettin’ cheeky, are you?” 

If you were a bird, you’d be preening your feathers, eyelids narrowed. “Perhaps, John.” 

It is a wonder, then, that the two of you don’t lock lips that very instant—long fins curling around legs and shoulders stuck together, pinkies unconsciously sitting atop the others as if pieces of parchment. Blue eyes shift smoothly to your lips, but before you can register that they have, John’s head is already moving back and his spine is straight. 

The man flattens his lips, tilting his skull. 

“I knew of a woman named Eleanor—she would come down with her husband, Noah, and they would walk along the shore. Got close to this place a few times.” Dark brows tighten. “Found her body in the water after a storm about two years ago; brought it back to the rocks so someone could retrieve it.” Your face loosens as the information settles in. John makes a noise in his chest. “Interesting that I’d be roped into it, but it’s understandable. Always someone to blame, eh?” 

“I don’t blame you,” you whisper. “That must have been horrible.”

Blue slips over to you silently, and it’s a long moment before John only hums under his breath, blinking away softly. 

“Scared me when you fell in.” Listening, your heart clenches in your ribs. To think about what must have been going through his head at that instant was sad to you, and even worse so when you know he would have blamed himself if you might have ended up seriously hurt.

“Well,” you lean into him, face on fire, “it was a good thing you were there to drag me out, then. A little water never hurt anyone, so long as a handsome merman is there to take them back to shore.” 

John huffs out a laugh. “Handsome?”

“Oh, very,” you joke. “The tail is a bonus.” Your expression lightens, eyes glinting. “Since when did you know that navy is my favorite color?”

The feeling of the cold water is only a back-drop to the way John’s fins twitch against your bare legs intimately, and you chuckle as the beard can only hide so much red skin. 

“Bugger off,” he grunts. 

You’ve never heard a smile so clearly before in your life.

—

Your paintings were selling far better than they ever had, and you had to thank the new muse of them for that fact. 

John’s appearance in your work had started small—a glimpse of a fin, the presence of a shadow in the water—and had steadily grown. Now, hidden like a present, there was the image of some fishtailed man somewhere in all of them, a steady injection of magic into the veins of cerulean blue and ivory black. It showed you that fewer people knew about John than you had previously thought. 

Initially, you had imagined that everyone knew and the reason you didn’t was because you were relatively new here, but no. Most had been enamored by your work when they found the ‘strange fish-man’ in one, pointing and chucking to themselves, talking about how adorable it was. No one was shocked, no one sent looks. 

By the end of the week, you had been convinced that it had been narrowed down to Otto and the Librarian—

The bell of your shop dings.

Looking up from your easel, you smile and stand automatically, thinking about closing soon so you can go and see John. Nowadays, even the thought of him makes your blood pump heavy. 

“How can I help you today, Sir?” Your brushes find the side table you had set up, locking eyes with a tall, thin man in his late thirties. He wears a suit, and in his breast pocket, there’s the gleam of a gold chain attached to a pocket watch. 

“I’m here to ask about a detail in your paintings, Miss.” He’s well-spoken as well, and you’re shocked to know you haven't met him yet if he lived in Redthorpe—he doesn’t seem familiar at all.

“Of course,” you nod, perplexed. “I’m sorry, I think I missed your name.”

“Noah Moore,” is the even response. Noah is already walking around, bending to look into some of your work which hangs on the wall. “My neighbor brought home one of your pieces; I found I liked it very much. Had even considered commissioning.”

Noah? You blink slowly, watching. Wasn’t that Eleanor’s husband?

“Thank you,” your lips move, thinning. “That’s very high praise, Mr. Moore.” 

“This creature,” Noah stands, and dark eyes set on you. For some reason, the hair along your arms stands on end. “The man with a fish tail. Have you seen him?”

Your instant reaction is to lie, and that in and of itself is a telltale sign that something is wrong. Noah makes the alarm in the back of your head go off for no reason other than the way he’s trying to pry with that unblinking gaze of his. The rich apparel; the attitude. He isn’t right.

“Seen him?” Chuckles echo off the walls. “Who? The beast? No, Sir, that…thing…is just something I made up.” You wave a hand, but back up a step, trying to create distance. Your hip lightly bumps the side table, and your materials jerk. Gasping under your breath, your head snaps down, catching your brush before it can fall. “Oh my, clumsy me.” you laugh stiffly. “Apologies, Sir, but that’s the truth. I wanted to create something that all of Redthrope might enjoy; a local legend of sorts, see.”

Your eyes had siphoned back with a dread in your heart. The man mutely stares, a deep frown pulling his lips. As if the conversation had never happened, after a long stretch of tension, Noah smiles widely. 

“Ah,” he huffs, “of course. It was silly of me to ask.” Dark eyes are emotionless, and the pull of his eyelids is not there. Spine so tight it could snap in half, and your fingers curl around the brush before you place it down stiffly. “Though,” Mr. Moore clicks his tongue, taking one step closer. 

Your eyes widen, but you say nothing. Your mind flashes to John, and there’s a longing for the ocean so strong, it seems a good idea to you, to rush out the door right now and sprint for it; hurl yourself to the waves, if need be. He’d find you—you know he would.

“Though,” Noah continues, tilting his head. “There is a striking resemblance to a creature I recall seeing from the cliffs, the day my wife’s body was found at the rocks.” 

Backing up another step, your muscles ache with how you hold them like a shield to your organs. 

“As far as I know, only two others were searching at my side that day. And in it I am certain,” he hums, “you weren’t even here.”

Otto and the librarian, you think quickly, mind a mess of information and fear. It’s why they’re so spooked. They think John actually killed Eleanor and left her—they saw him bring her body to shore.

It’s a lack of foresight on your part, that the next bark is more of a reaction to the panic than proper knowledge, cracking under pressure. 

“John would never kill an innocent woman!” 

It’s as if a switch goes off, and, suddenly, there’s a ruthless hand grabbing at your throat. Yelping, you stagger back and snap your fingers to Noah’s wrist, clawing until there’s blood under your nails; air is sucked in with a wheeze. In the back of your head, there’s wild screaming, and you can’t tell if it’s the pounding of your blood or the internal sensation of primal fear. 

Raging eyes shove themselves right in front of yours, faces so close you can feel Noah’s hot breath moving over your burning face. You try to cough but find you can’t as one of your hands struggles to slap to the side table—searching fruitlessly. 

“John?” Noah sneers, holding tighter. “The thing has a name?”

Your easel clatters to the ground, back being shoved right into it. Mouth opening and closing, the cut of oxygen reduces your mind to acting purely off instinct—breaking down like glass to fracture to only one thing: survival.

“It was perfect,” Mr. Moore growls, eyes ablaze. “I had it all planned out, only to be ruined by a freak of nature at the last moment!” 

Your nails gouge the wood, dragging, searching, slapping. Anything—anything at all to help as your boots scrape from under you. You can’t even comprehend the words being said; all of it is a blur as blackness peels the side of your vision. 

Tears splatter down your cheeks.

“Two years, and then you had to come along and fucking speak to it! What did it tell you? Eh? What did it see that night?”

Your hand curls the glass bottle where you store your brushes and without another thought, you slam the side of it to Noah’s head. 

Shouting, the man releases you in an instant, glass leaving long lines of blood splattering out to sprinkle your face as it shatters, collapsing into itself. Connecting to the ground, your hacking can only take place for under two seconds before your boots scramble for purchase, stumbling and flailing at least once; lungs gasping. 

Shoulder connecting with the side of the door frame as you bang it open, an enraged scream follows you into the rainy afternoon, the rumble of deadly thunder far overhead. 

Running, you don’t know how to stop, and it’s even harder to catch your breath by the time you’re down to the rocks, looking over your shoulder as if Noah would be right behind you. He wasn’t—but the fear was enough to keep you going until you were bathed in sweat and barely strong enough to fall into the entrance of John’s cave, fingers cut up and raw from grappling over stone.

There’s a quick call of your name from across the enclosed space, but your ears are ringing too loud to hear—whipping around to stare at the entrance as you struggle back on your hands, legs shaking. 

“Love!”

Your eyes slash to the side, and through the quivering of your lashes, through the blur of tears, you lock onto the desperate slash of grayish-blue that’s a near-perfect reflection of the ocean itself. Painting, the realization comes a moment too late, as pale fingers touch your cheek and you flinch back with a deep pain in your neck. 

Pulsing veins echo along your entire body, but there, at the point of where hands had wrapped your flesh, it burned with a horrible fire that made thin noise escape your lips.

“Hey,” John breathes, having dragged himself at a moment’s notice across the floor of the cave. “Hey,” he repeats slower, eyes slashing you up and down for any sign of injury. 

His hand is outstretched, but he doesn’t try to touch you again seeing how you’d jerked away. The man’s heart had stopped at that—his concern shooting up similar to how he felt when you’d raced through the entrance as if a fire was on your heels. A near panic at the fear on your face, leaving his body on high alert; eyes skating the surrounding quickly.

But the splatters of blood on your face were something to reduce him to an enraged beast.

“What is going on,” he tries to keep the rough anger from his tone, attempting to leave it soft and smooth. There’s only so much he can do, though, as you shake and pant. 

Your body gradually slows itself, attention seeping back to allow you to take control of your limbs. The first thing you see clearly is John’s outstretched hand, and, then, the clench of his jaw—the eyes that follow every teardrop down the flesh of your cheek.

Openly gazing, when John sees you’re back, his blues slip to a softened caress. 

“Love,” he mutters, face tight. 

You shove yourself into his arms and let off a sob that echoes louder than any laughter could. Curling into his chest, water seeps into your shirt, but the all-expansive hand that keeps you close is worth every clothesline you would have to hang. 

“Shh,” John breathes, knowing that he’d get an explanation when he calmed you down, even if his mind was breaking itself to try and understand. “I’m right here, Sunshine. Breathe, then…I’m right here, yeah?” 

His nose pushes itself into your scalp as your head hides away, quivering body curled like a cat around a fish—no air between the two of you, chests running across the others. So little space, and yet this breathlessness was one you could welcome time and time again.

John watches, eyes always open as he glares into your hair, grip tightening the longer you cry; a feeling so potent brimming in his chest, he would be a fool to ignore it.

You were more precious to him than any ring, than any trinket he could stash away and forget about. The way his heart bent to yours was stronger than any storm. 

Breathing down your scent, John sighed, kissed the top of your head, and lightly rocked you back and forth. 

He’d wait as long as it took.

—

When it became apparent you couldn’t speak beyond broken little coughs and wheezes, John was quick to bring you to the water of the pool.  

Now, perhaps hours later, you sit with the burn and fatigue of crying eyes, sniffling as you shove away the stain of red on your cheeks. 

“Careful,” John lightly comments, grasping your hand and pulling it away. His own replaces it, wet from the water he now wades in to help. “Let me get it, eh?”

Your eyes stay stuck to his nose as fingers push away the crimson of blood easily, firm but still utterly delicate. 

“I’m not glass,” you croak, one hand near your throat. 

Blue eyes blink at you. “Never said you were,” he grunts, frowning, and you see his Adam’s Apple bob. “Don’t like seeing you with blood on your face, Love.”

Like it had never happened, the fingers return, and a moment later, he grumbles out, “And stop talking—you’ll make it worse.” 

You hadn’t explained, not yet, but by the utter rage you see John trying to hide from you, you know he understands how you might have gotten the swelling now present on your neck. His heart had been visibly pumping the entire time you’d been here; you could hear it when he was holding you, a relentless, thump-thump-bump, thump-thump-bump in your ear.

The brunette had been clenching his jaw more as well, grunting as if a boar after every sentence, a nervous habit, perhaps. He was trying to mask it for you, but you weren’t blind. 

John pauses his cleaning, glancing at your throat. 

He studies your face after he hums under his breath, having to dart his gaze away for a moment. 

“...Can I?” You pause, swallowing as the burn persists. 

Nodding after a minute of slow contemplation, cold hands shift to press carefully—not tightening, not holding you there—resting to give relief. You only tense a little, but as the seconds draw, John watches you sag forward with a large sigh through your nose. 

He lets a small sliver of calm enter him.

“Easy,” John whispers, blinking. He keeps the chill of his hands at your neck, fins shifting the water to keep him still. “When you’re ready, explain it to me, eh?” His head tilts, voice a low tease. “Glass or not.” 

Your lips twitch, and the way your eyes melt could only be compared to safety. You open your lips, and John mutters lowly as your fingers brush over his own, “Quietly, now. Can hear just fine—don’t push yourself.” 

Blue flickers to your touch, fingertips trailing his knuckles as the man grunts, attention fluttering back. 

All you say is one name. 

“Noah.” 

There’s a moment of confusion on John’s face, skin wrinkling, before the understanding settles swiftly—he wasn’t a fool. From there, his expression changes ten times over; that rage, then fear for you, confusion, and stubbornness. It’s of little surprise to you that a man so loyal was reduced to a dog. 

A dog with scales, that is.

Your body is still running hot—your heart still pumping, though the adrenaline has left with all of its stimulation. You’re tired, yes, that much is obvious. But you want John to hold you again. 

When you shift your body, the man’s eyes widen, and he blinks quickly in shock as your legs then slip into the waves inch by inch.

A noise exits the back of his throat, and John’s mouth moves in serious question. “What are you doing? Fucking hell, would you just stay still and let me have a look at you—”

Arms grapple around his waist, and a warm head burrows into his neck. 

You rest against him, body suspended in the water of the deep pool, a merman’s tail swishing to shove you the tiniest bit closer unconsciously. John’s chest bounces with every emotion, but all he does is stop you from sinking by holding you. Your eyes close at the dig of his hands, and, letting the water move the both of you, the smooth scales along your legs feel as if the finest silk. A thumb caressing up and down your spine; breath at the top of your head.

You both say nothing, and it’s a long while before either of you takes any action to leave.

—

When your words could be strung together and not broken every other sentence, you explained all of it, and the hunch you’d strung together in the meantime.

You fiddle with one of John’s rings—the emerald one—as you glance up and speak softly, voice still delicate. The pain still blossomed, but some things needed to be explained.

“I think he killed his wife.” 

By the way John stops massaging the flesh of your neck, letting you rest your head in the crook of where his tail begins and skin ends, you knew he already pieced that together a while ago. Your clothes were still heavy with water, and a puddle had formed around the both of you on the rocks.

“Hm,” is all John says, fixing the position of his lips as he looks away.

He shakes his head, growling out, “You’re not going back up there. Not while he’s still walking the streets.”

You frown, but John glares without any venom. “It wasn’t a question, Love.”

“What will you do,” you whisper, voice hoarse. A brow quirks. “Run after me, John?”

The man stares, not taking it as lightly as you. “If I have to.”

Your breath hitches, hands resting numbly over the ring as John’s fingers once again continue their touching—as if he can rub away the swelling; the damage of the veins. 

“You don’t have legs,” you utter, having to pause in the middle of the sentence to breathe deeply. 

“I’ll crawl,” he grunts.

“The rocks are sharp.”

His face is immobile. “Then I’ll bleed.”

Your mind memorized the stubbornness of his expression—the pull of the crow’s feet beside his eyes. There wasn’t an ounce of a joke in John’s eyes; no lie. Watching him, your face is loose with wonder, and water drips from your temple to connect with those dark navy scales, glinting with the light from the outside sun growing low. 

The ring in your hands is frozen, stopping its turning as your pulse soars.

John licks the corner of his mouth, glancing at the item of gold and green. 

“Keep it,” he mutters, tilting his head to the ring. “More of a use to you.” 

Larger fingers capture yours, and in one deft motion, the elegant item is slipped onto your digit, sitting comfortably as if made just for you. 

John shrugs. “The rest of ‘em, too, if you want the damn things.” His blues card over the view of your hand, and imagines fingers filled with every bit of gold and silver obtainable to him, brought up from the ocean just to sit pretty atop your flesh. Necklaces, bracelets, belts, and accessories; the things he’d seen from far distant waters. 

Oh, but they’d pale in comparison to how you would wear them. 

A muse to a song. A painter to a portrait. 

A women to the water.

He’d seen your latest sketches—you’d brought them down to him here—and when you were exploring this cave, he had taken a peak. Unlike him, yes, but there was a pull to it, that parchment bound by leather. He’d not seen anything like it, and as he had watched you work on occasion, he was entranced as he’d listened to you explain it. You’d told him that you could even manipulate color, and that had left his eyes widening in awe.

You were incredible, and when he saw his own likeness littering page after page, John had been unable to take his eyes off of you. A silent appreciation—a voiceless devotion. He’d never been…captured like this, so to speak. A mirror image. Details he didn’t even know himself, and yet there they were. 

Beauty marks across his cheeks and nose, the scars that littered his flesh that he’d all but forgotten about, the list was endless. 

But he looks at you now, and he can understand why there’s a draw to immortalize the mortal. 

His fingers stay at yours, and they brush skin as they dip along your hand, falling to your wrist. You stare up into his eyes, he stares down into yours. There’s little air to be taken in between the two of you. 

“John,” you utter, blue gaze stuck to your lips. 

He hums, tilting his head, his body looming over yours like a shadow. By the time his face is so near to yours, you don’t want to fight it, you don’t want to think about the strangeness of this predicament you’ve found yourself in—a creature living in the cliffs, handsome and half-inhuman.

When smooth lips brush over yours, and your eyelashes begin to flutter, the shouts from outside break whatever spell had just started weaving itself. 

Head snapping up, John’s body tenses as you push upward quickly. Attention slashing to the cave entrance, it’s not long before you realize what’s going on with a sharp breath and a leap to your pulse. 

The smash of something connecting to rocks echoes like a feral killing song. Yells. Yowls. 

“John,” you say hurriedly, flinching from the pain in your throat. Your eyes dart to his tension-ridden form, his arms wrapping above your body. “You need to run,” you choke out. “Go! Quickly!”

You only get a glance, and the clench of his jaw is as stubborn as it always is. Your brain already knows it’s fruitless. He won’t leave you here alone.

“They’ll kill you!” Your hands push at his chest, finger grasping at the bristle of hair to try and shove at an iron will. 

“Stay under me,” John mutters, voice low and nothing more than a chilled order. Yet, even he knows there’s little that he’d be able to do. His eyes flashed to every trinket and bauble he had collected, the new ones he’d yet to show to you, but there was few in the way of weapons. A dagger or two from a trench, a sword from under a ship—a spearhead. All too far away and rusted for it to even matter. 

There was a sharp feeling in John’s chest. A need. An oath that he gave to himself the moment he’d seen the way your little stick could breathe his image onto a sheet made of fibers. 

He was to watch over you whenever you were in his sights, and that had extended itself to gliding through the water as he watched you climb and grunt your way to his cave; a careful eye that he had no need to tell you about. That was just how he was. 

“John!” You try to bark again, growing desperate. 

Yet, it was already too late, and the merman hadn’t shifted even an inch before Noah, Otto, and the Librarian burst through the entrance like bats from hell.  They hold all manner of weapons, though the more you blink in a panic, the less afraid of them you seem, at the very least, the older man and the woman.

Otto held a cut-up and dented club, nothing more than something you’d keep for a home invasion beside the bed—the Librarian, a heavy book that seemed to contain every bit of information available to the world, so large it strained in her hands. Noah, though, was a different story. 

He had a sharp, long knife and eyes that could cut flesh by themselves. 

Half of Mr. Moore’s face was sliced up, cuts leaking blood to the ground—skin hanging and an eye completely poked with glass; shards in its gentle makeup. 

You swallow saliva and stutter through a shaking breath, and John’s glare could burn cities as he feels it reverberating against him. 

“There!” Noah shouts, balking closer. “See! I knew it was here—seducing the next woman to take to the ocean!” 

Your wide eyes try to take it all in, hands slapping the ground sending droplets of collected water flying. John’s face hones in, digging in like how the glass from your brush container had into Noah’s visage, and, somehow, you think that dead stare can cause more damage. Grasping the merman’s waist, you attempt and silently urge him to go. 

“Girl!” Otto calls quickly, eyes darting from you to John and back. Even if you could yell, you’re not sure you would. You wouldn’t even know what to say. “Get away from it!”

“I’d put that down,” John grunts to Noah, disregarding the old man and the librarian entirely. He clenches his jaw. “‘Fore you end up hurting yourself. Leave.”

“Otto,” you start, glancing at the woman beside your friend who looked like she was about to pass out when John had started to speak. The man in question’s face pulls, wrinkles thinning. “You have to listen to me, please, it’s not how Mr. Moore told you—”

“It speaks!” Noah barks, pointing his knife harder at John. “Freak of nature, it already has its hold on her.”

“Oh my,” the Librarian gasps. “Noah, it’s horrible—look at the tail.”

Your eyes flare with rage as John doesn’t react.

“Hey!” You shout, but instantly slap your free hand to your throat, coughing raggedly until your spine hunches. The merman brings you closer, but you’re already pushing until you’re on your feet, stumbling for a moment as John gives you a sharp look.

“You watch your bloody mouth,” you grid out, glaring, whipping your hands to get rid of the water droplets. Noah licks his lips as John grabs onto the back of your knee, fingers resting firmly. Sending a look down to him, your shoulders loosen at the expression he levels. You can almost hear the words.

 Steady. Keep your head on.

Though, a slash of silent pride made your heart stutter a small bit.

Your eyes glint. “Drop your weapons,” your sentence is crackling but nonetheless sharp. “Leave. John is innocent—he told me all of it.” You turn to Otto. “Mr. Moore attacked me in my shop, I smashed a glass container into his head so he would release me.” Otto tenses, club getting strangled by his fingers. 

“Noah killed Eleanor,” you breathe, John’s grip pulling a bit tighter as if sensing something you have yet to see. Noah shifts quickly, boots squeaking along the rock as he growls. 

“Absurd—!”

“He pushed her over the rocks and blamed John when he saw him bringing back her body,” you interrupt as fast as you can, pain bouncing off your throat. “You all saw it on the shore, the lie was simple enough for a man like him. Saying she drowned to a creature.”

It didn’t surprise you that John was quiet, that he was studying more the stance of men instead of talking or trying to defend himself. While he could be hard-headed and stiff, he was never dull—he never missed ques. So when Noah launched himself at you, Otto and the Librarian more confused and concerned than anything, there was only a heavy push on the back of your knee that left you buckling with a gasp, and then the explosion of water as John sent you both quickly to the water.

Hands whipping to snare around the merman’s shoulders, you’re only able to get a quick breath in before you’re completely enveloped in water, with John’s hand setting itself over your mouth just in case. The sudden rush is comparable to a heavy wind, yet far more cold and nearly like a slap to the back of your spine. 

You both disappear into the deep with a spray, Noah’s muffled yells of terror seen far above near the surface, arms captured by the Librarian and Otto—held at his sides. There’s a flash of those dark eyes, horrible things, and then John’s fins hide the rest as they slash through the water. 

When you both resurface, retreating far back near the watery entrance of the cave, John keeps you firmly behind him, your arms around his waist as you gasp for air. He keeps his head slightly turned to the side—always having you in the corner of his vision. Above the spread of his shoulders, you peek softly, legs suspended below. 

“Lier!” Noah screams, face contorted. “She’s lying!”

You look at Otto and see the grim way he’s already looking back, struggling to keep the younger individual from breaking free. He was sensical, but stubborn in his ways. Otto had a choice just as the librarian did—believe a woman who’d been here a year or someone they’d known nearly their entire lives.

“Noah,” Otto grunts, gritting his teeth. “Breathe, boy! Stop spitting, let her speak—”

The knife in Noah’s hands slashes the air, and suddenly there’s a yell from the librarian and a spray of blood. 

“Otto!” You scream, fingers flinching. 

The old man stumbles, hoarsely crying out as he grasps at his neck. Your eyes widen, mouth ajar as John pushes his hand into your head, shoving it into the back of his hair as he watches blankly, eyes glinting with a deadly hate. 

“Don’t move,” he utters quickly, sternly, to you as your breath breaks, mouth slack to stare at nothing. Scales skate your legs, great kelp-like fins curling your ankle. “Keep still. Focus on my words, Love.” Under his breath is a tight, “Fuck!”

John speaks above the gargling—the spillage of blood to stone. He mutters through the screams of the Librarian as Noah slips trying to run to the entrance, scrambling with bulging eyes. 

“Don’t look,” John says to you lowly, shifting his body as he keeps your face hidden away and let him hold you like a corpse to the earth. The sounds…oh, the sounds were horrible. 

But the man holding you tries very hard to hide them.

Your body quivers violently as the slam of a body hits the ground, the frantic calling of the woman still here with the both of you; the loud calls from the fleeing murder outside the walls.

“That’s it,” John’s fast lips are on the top of your head, muttering and trying to make his voice as even as possible. “That’s it, then. Doing good, don’t move until I say so, alright?”

When you don’t answer, only shoving your visage deeper into his neck, his spine-breaking-hold squeezes once, and his pounding heart bounces opposite yours. You don’t have to say you know him to understand that he’s only holding onto a thread of good manners, and that was certainly only for our own sake.

Otto was dead.

John leads you out, the gold and emerald of your ring glinting in the moonlight as he holds your body to his, the powerful make of his tail doing the work as it shines in the water. He leaves you outside, where the still running form of Noah is visible, yet the only person noticing is John himself. Your hands are so shaky that it would be impossible to hold your sketchbook, let alone a pencil. 

John takes one of them as Mr. Moore gets too close to the shoreline, slipping and getting his foot caught in between two stones. He panics, yelling loudly, as water is lapping up to his knee.

“Hey, hey, you hear me?” John asks, uncaring to the man, as he sets you down softly on a flat rock shelf. Fingers move to sit at your chin, and, through tight sniffles, you make delicate eye contact. He blinks, trying a tight smile—a flash nothing more. “There she is. Good...I need you to listen one last time, yeah? Just like before; don’t look until I say so.” Your face creases lightly, blinking through a haze of senses and horror. Otto was dead. 

The man that brought you out on his boat—the man that cooked you fish and acted as if a guardian to you. His cat, who would take care of her? It seemed a silly thought given the circumstances, but you can’t stop your mind from running. The house, the boat, the cat. The blood. 

“There’s nothing out here that can hurt you,” John grunts, grasping your hands and holding them, letting calluses and scars speak. “So long as I’m here, I won’t let it.” 

He nearly growls out the words. In one movement, he puts your hand to his heart, and your brain latches onto the rhythm as your own rampages in your ears. 

Noah is still screaming, but now it’s for help.

John’s voice lowers as he utters, “Hey,” the man licks his lips, eyes dancing to the side every once and a while. You stare, swallowing down bile. He says as fluidly as possible, keeping constant locked gazes. 

“Stay here. I won’t be long.”

Fingers glide down your neck again, feeling that swelling, and just as you register the kiss that’s leveled to your hand, to that gifted ring, John’s already away; his tail slipping over your flesh, fins gripping, writhing with their film. 

Yet, you have no trouble following his advice. 

The rising screams from Mr. Moore are numb to you, and the following wave of water that swallows him is only accented by the hand that grapples for his neck. 

John always seemed the one for revenge.

—

With the Librarian's newfound cooperation, the story became simple. 

Mr. Moore, distraught over the death of his wife, had finally lost it all when down on the beach with Otto, yourself, and the local Librarian—attacking and killing the old man in response to being so near to where he and his wife always traveled to. Afterward, he’d walked into the sea and had taken his own life. 

The authorities weren’t going to dispute it. 

You sold Otto's house a week after his death, seeing as he’d named you the sole inheritor of his estate and belongings. There was no need for two properties, and sitting in that small place was akin to torture. After all, he’d been doing what he thought was right, and dying for a lie is nothing short of cruel to those left behind who knew the truth. 

Harriet stays in the shop with you, where she’ll probably live out the rest of her nine lives peacefully. She’s quite fond of the fireplace. 

Most days, people find you near the water, and it’s something that wasn’t going to change even after Noah’s body was found in the rocks—freakishly close to where Eleanor’s had been. Some were calling it poetic and you’d have to agree…but for different reasons.

“You shouldn’t be giving me all of these,” you huff months later, sitting on the rock looking out over the water. A large collection of John’s trinkets is piled high in a wrapping of seaweed, shining bright as you mess with your pencil, leaning to stare at him.

John’s lips flicker into a smirk. He hums, content to watch you, from where he rests not an inch away. You lean into him, sighing, as the innumerable glinting rings on your fingers shimmer. 

“Want to,” he grumbles. 

Rolling your eyes, you look back down to your book, three of four replicas of the man’s scale pattern sitting, shaded and duplicated—lifelike. His tail sways with the water, half of it lost below. 

Your hands reach for them now, the scales closest to you, and you lightly poke and prod as John grunts above you, silent but willing in a way that speaks volumes. He’d let no one else touch him like this for the rest of his life—the softness of your fingers and the care on your face more precious than gold. You revered that tail of his; as if it gave over magic like a wishing well. 

Shivering, John’s breath hitches as your exploring moves, pushing lightly at where the top of his hips would be.

Your talent was fascinating to him, just as you were. If you wanted to ‘paint’ him, he’d allow you to do all the studies needed. Not only to give you a distraction….but because he can’t bear to be away from you anymore. It makes him nervous, and that in itself is an incredible feat.

“Where do you come from, John,” your question moves the air, and the man moves to pull your jacket higher up your body to stave off the chill. You glance at him, smiling, before your attention returns to your drawings. Sketching more, John resets his lips and tries not to stare at your face. It was getting harder to deny that pull. 

That near kiss.

“No answer, Love.” You stare as he quirks a lip, voice lowering. “I won’t be going back to distant waters anytime soon.”

John glances down at your sketchbook, seeing every scratch and bend of care. The both of you were strange creatures, perhaps. Unique—made for one another despite the obvious. 

He nods his head to it softly. The water laps at your boots from below, but you care little before John shifts your feet carefully further up with a push from his tail. You chuckle at him breathily, face heating.

“Getting water on you, Love,” he breathes. “New painting soon?” John asks when the silence settles once more, with you shifting your legs to sit under you. He still isn’t sure what painting entails, but you had told him that you would show him soon, so he knows to be patient. But yearning for anything regarding you is ingrained into his mind now—instinct.

“Mhm,” you smile softly, sending a look at your paper and the images. A huff escapes your mouth. “I think I’ll make this one a portrait.”

John blinks, tilting his head slightly. “Portrait? Why’s that?” 

Your lips find his, moving back up in an instant. 

For a second, the man’s surprised eyes pull back; only lowering as he hums moments later, fingers curling up under your chin as he sags. Lids flutter closed, and his tail twitches lightly.

“I have a subject that’s caught my eye.” You mutter into his flesh when you pull back, face burning as deep blues sear your mind, turning it into mush. Your skin tingles as chilled digits trail your chin, dripping water down your healed throat.

John watches, lips parted, as you continue on. 

“And I’d be a fool if I let him swim off.”

The both of you were going to be perfectly fine.

TAGS:

@sheviro-blog, @ivebeentrashsince2001, @mrshesh, @berryjuicyy, @romantic-homicide, @kmi-02, @neelehksttr, @littlemisstrouble, @copperchromewriting, @coelhho-brannco, @pumpkinwitchcrusade, @fictional-men-have-my-heart, @sleepyqueerenergy, @cumikering, @everything-was-dark, @marmie-noir, @anna-banana27, @iamcautiouslyoptimistic, @irenelunarsworld, @rvjaa, @sarcanti, @aeneanc, @not-so-closeted-lesbian, @mutuallimbenclosure, @emily-who-killed-a-man, @gildedpoenies, @glitterypirateduck, @writeforfandoms, @kohsk3nico, @peteymcskeet, @caramlizedtomatoes, @yoursweetobsession, @quesowakanda, @chthonian-spectre, @so-no-feint, @ray-rook, @extracrunchymilk, @doggydale, @frazie99, @develised, @1-800-no-users-left, @nuncubus, @aldis-nuts, @clear-your-mind-and-dream, @noonanaz, @cosmicpro, @stinkaton, @waves-against-a-cliff, @idocarealot

#cod #cod x reader #cod x you #call of duty #x female reader #call of duty x you #cod mw22 #mw2 #mw2 2022 #john price cod #john price #captain john price #captain price #cod mw2 #cod john price #john price call of duty #john price x reader #john price x you #captain john price x you #x fem!reader #cod price #price x reader #john price x female reader #captain price x you #captain price x reader #cod x female reader

[spdrwdw]

hi! I saw ur post abt accidentally deleting reqs and was scared since mine wasn’t answered yet (im not complaining bc ur other work is so so delicious to read 😍) anyways here it is. Ok imagine Miguel ohara being the heir to the mafia ‘throne(?)’ ima be so fr idk what they call it 💀 anyways and he’s in an arranged marriage w/ a girl from a diff mafia family as a way to make peace between the two families, except neither he or the girl are happy abt it. Enemies to lovers would just be majestic for the plot in my opinion 🤭. Anywaysssss thank u sm and remember to drink water 🫶🏻

Art by: Kimmy_art0912 Pairing: Mob Boss Miguel x Wife reader Warnings: Mentions of blood, very mild violence, no use of y/n Summary: You and Miguel come from different mafia families, forced to be married in order to form an alliance as threat from an outside. However, you and Miguel can only tolerate each other, at best. A/N: I swear I scratched and rewrote this like five different times.I am sorry it took so long. I am slowly making my way back into writing. I do thank anon and everyone else for their patience as I slowly make my way back to life and I will be writing more Miguel fics soon. I may do a part two to this, depending on interest recieved. I have been getting into mafia books so I am going to be looking into those for inspo if I do make more parts to this. Also, very very light editing was done. Word Count: 4.6k

Your family and the O’Hara’s have been enemies since your ancestors set foot into this country. Both immigrating from nothing but the clothes on their backs and pennies to their name. 

Your family started working in the food industry. Working in restaurants, bakeries, etc. Anything that had to do with food. Seven days a week. Working from twelve to fourteen hour shifts just to make ends meet. Your great great grandfather worked at the local deli as well as a restaurant. When he wasn’t cutting up meat, he was in the kitchen making food. Your great great grandmother worked at the neighborhood bakery as well as the tailors. Her dream was to make clothes- dresses. She wanted to be a fashion designer. She started taking classes at the local college once they saved up enough money to invest in her studies. 

Eventually, with their hard work and sacrifices, their dreams came true. Your family soon owned several restaurants as well as luxury boutiques. Everyone did their part in keeping the family businesses growing and going. 

At first, it was all simply honest work. Your family stayed humble and grateful for their dedication. Then, with your great grandfather, things took a slight turn. He wanted to expand and turn into construction. Nueva York continued to go and grow, with more people coming to try to make a living and a name for themselves. And in that mix, people with bad intentions also tagged along. The family businesses were in jeopardy of being taken over or shut down completely by these power-hungry thugs. He did not want that. So, he and the rest of the family banded together and began hiring people who would be willing to work for them and protect them, whether they were military vets, criminals, or even cops. Anyone who was willing to protect the family. 

Allyship with other mafia families also aided in the growth and protection. However, there was one family that yours always butted heads with. 

The O’Haras. They immigrated from Ireland around the same time your great great grandparents did. They built their own businesses, casinos, hotels, and clubs- and wanted their own power and a spot with the elites of the criminal world. 

At first, things were neutral between the two families. At one point, the two families were almost allies. However, one night, there was commotion going on at one of the O’Hara nightclubs. Members of your family got into a tussle with the O’Hara group and ended up being a blood bath, with both sides losing men. 

Ever since then, things were tense, and the bloodshed continued to grow as oppositions rose. 

No one really knew what it was that started the feud that night. Some suspected it had been over a woman. Others thought it was simply because some members were drunk and careless words were exchanged.

Either way, the rivalry continued on. Until a new threat entered the city. And there was no choice but to come together. 

—

It’s been six months since you moved into his house. Six months since you lost your freedom. Six months since you got married. To Miguel O’Hara. 

It all happened in an instant. First, you were out abroad, having recently gotten your first major job as a fashion designer in a luxury clothing company, wanting to be as successful as your great great grandmother, and now you were out on a little vacation to celebrate, when you received a call from your father, ordering you to come back home. 

You should’ve relished that Mediterranean breeze as long as you could, because once you got on that flight back home, your world was about to be flipped on its head. 

“I’m sorry…WHAT?!” You screeched at your father, you only looked at you with his calm, cool, distant, expression as he inhaled into his cigar.

“You’re getting married to Miguel O’Hara,” he repeated. 

“I heard what you said! But, why?!”

“The O’Haras had agreed to a truce. Kingpin is gaining on both of our families. We are losing men and traction left and right. We agreed by aligning our families together, we will gain strength in numbers and influence.”

“And you are shipping me off into an arranged marriage! This isn’t the medieval age or whatever! 

Plus, with Miguel?! At least have me marry Gabriel. He’s not an asshole like his brother.”

“Miguel is to become head of the O’Hara family as he is the first born. Plus, his determination has been promising.”

You let out a groan. You could not believe this was happening. You never wanted to get sucked into this life. That’s why you went off to college. To try to get away and make a life of your own. Your efforts were proven to be futile as you felt the rug be pulled from under you and you were being dragged along with it to the same life you were trying to escape. 

Your father’s eyes softened. A hint of sorrow filled them. 

“I know, sweetheart. This isn’t what I was hoping for you, either. But, it is the only way. We are running out of options. I am sure Miguel will take care of you, and you will be able to fulfill your dream of following your great great grandmother’s footsteps. I am sure she would be proud to have someone actively expanding her fashion legacy..”

You still shook your head. It was just too much for you to take in. Plus, wasn’t Miguel in a relationship with someone? Xina? No..they broke up months ago. That’s right. But, wait..he was seeing someone else? Ugh. The guy has a new girlfriend every other day.

Besides, you two did have a thing going on in the past. It wasn’t serious. Mainly the occasional hookups. You two were of rivaling families, after all. You both did have your reasons for disliking each other. So, the sex was pretty much hate sex? If that made sense. It wasn’t out of passion. Unless you could call hatred a passion.

Never did you think you’d actually be getting married to him. 

After the news broke out that you and Miguel were to be wedded, everything went by in such a blur. Preparations for the wedding. The actual wedding. The honeymoon- which was hardly a honeymoon because neither of you actually spent any time together. It was just too awkward, and you knew that he wasn’t happy with this arrangement as much as you were. 

When you first moved into his house, you wanted to sleep in a separate room from him, and he agreed. However, when both of your parents found out about this, they were all livid. 

“How will you two get to know each other more and become intimate with each other if you are sleeping in separate beds?” Your mom cried one day when she came to visit you. You assured her there would be other situations where you and your husband would bond. Public situations where you’d be surrounded by other people and talking to those people rather than each other. 

You two simply avoided each other as much as possible. And during the times when you two were together, your company was either met with silence or bickering. And sometimes even being at each other’s throats. 

He would call you names like ‘immature’ ‘wild’ ‘rowdy’ and so on, simply because you refused to listen to him whenever he demanded something from you. 

You’d retaliate and tell him that he was controlling and a perfectionist. Because well, he was. He had to have things done a certain way or it would ensue chaos. And while he was right about you being a little more rowdy and wild, it was simply because you had the luxury of growing somewhat more normal. Your parents did not drill the life of the mafia into your head the same way it was drilled into Miguel’s. Which is why you both clashed when trying to communicate with each other. 

Right now, you were at home in the library. You spend a lot of time there, and while Miguel’s taste in reading wasn’t usually to your taste, you’d sometimes find yourself reading some of the novels that he was currently reading, as well as reading some that you’ve been purchasing and adding to the collection. 

Which reminded you, you had to head over to the mall and purchase the next book of a spicy romance series you’d been reading. As well as look for an outfit to wear at the next charity event you and Miguel would be attending. 

One of the few things you liked about Miguel was that he was very generous and active in the community, helping those less fortunate.

Placing the book down, you rubbed your bag and keys and decided to head out for a bit. Saying goodbye to the house staff as you walked past them, you made your way to the garage, which housed Miguel’s collection of cars, ranging from vintage to sporty and modern to big black suvs that you’d use whenever a bodyguard was transporting you somewhere, like parties. You never understood why someone needed so many cars but, whatever, as long as it wasn’t your money being spent. 

You made your way over to your car, glad that you were able to bring it with you when you got married. It was your baby. One of the few things you were able to bring with you. 

Glancing over at the clock on the dashboard, you bit your bottom lip. You should have enough time to purchase some books before heading off to your parents for a bit. You did promise them you would show up. They were planning lunch for you. It was your birthday today, after all. 

—

Miguel stood in front of the battered man that kneeled before him, hearing the groaning of pain coming from their mouth as blood pooled around the cement floor. 

Miguel’s knuckles were bleeding. But, it wasn’t his own blood, but the blood of the poor bastard that withered before him. Miguel didn’t like to use violence. He thought it was a primitive way of negotiating with his enemies. However, there were times when a little violence was necessary to get his point across. And to send a message. 

Why was this man being battered like a sack of potatoes? 

The man spat blood, a tooth or two flying out with the glob of blood as he remained strapped to his chair. His face was covered in blood. Beat up and mangled by the hands of the tall, brooding man before him. 

Miguel slowly knelt down before the man, taking a fistful of his hair, forcing him to look up into his almost amber eyes. 

“ Eres un demonio! (You're a demon). Not even the devil himself will want you!” the man spat, a glob of blood landing on Miguel’s cheek.

Miguel let out a hum of disinterest. His eyes lacked any life in them. However, this was when he felt the most alive, seeing his enemies cowering and crumbling before him. 

He took out a handkerchief from his breast pocket and cleaned the blood from his cheek before tossing the now soiled material at the man’s feet. 

“I take that as a compliment, you know. Maybe I want the devil himself to fear me.”

Miguel took out a cigar from his coat pocket and lit it before giving it a deep inhale and exhaled a heavy cloud of smoke at the man’s face. He couldn't believe that one of Kingpin's goons had infiltrated his circle and posed himself as someone who could've been trusted. Miguel was definitely going to send that fat son of a bitch a message, by killing this guy and sending his corpse back to Kingpin's front door. 

Not only that, but it also meant that they were going to have to redo background checks on everyone working for the O’Haras. That was going to be a pain in the ass.

"Gabriel! Hand me my gun," Miguel called out to his brother.

Gabriel, Peter, and Ben were all standing several feet behind Miguel, all watching as their boss beat and battered the man before them. 

Gabriel was Miguel’s right hand now that their father had stepped down as head of the O’Hara family. Many thought Gabriel was going to take charge, however, Miguel was much more brutal and cut-throat than Gabriel. It made sense for Miguel to take up the mantle, despite him being an illegitimate son. 

Plus, Gabriel preferred being on the sidelines instead of making the decisions. 

Gabriel made his way over to his older brother, handing him the gun before stepping back to his original spot. 

“Now. We can do this the easy way. Where I ask you a couple of questions and answer them. Or, we can do this the hard way, when I ask you said questions and if you refuse to answer them, I get to shoot you anywhere I want.”

”I would rather you just shoot me! I will never answer to you!” The man croaked. 

“You never got shot before, have you?” Miguel hummed as he removed the safety from the gun and cocked it before pulling the trigger, shooting the man on the foot. 

The man let out a screeching howl as he thrashed on the chair, letting out a series of curses. 

Miguel simply nodded his head. “That’s what I thought. So..shall we begin?”

The whole ordeal took only a matter of minutes, as Miguel wasted no time in trying to get his questions answered. The man was not sitting lifeless on the chair as bullet holes decorated his body. 

Kingpin had sent a lower ranked grunt to spy on them, trying to scope up any valuable information to report back to his true boss. Unfortunately for Kingpin, those in the lower ranks didn’t really get to be part of the action and behind-closed door discussions, so, this man’s life was unnecessarily wasted. 

“Send his body back to Kingpin. Just leave him on his doorstep,” Miguel said as he examined his suit, letting out a grunt when he saw small splatters of blood. He was going to have to go home and change. “Will do. You should start heading back home. I am sure you wife is waiting for you,” Gabriel said as Peter and Ben began placing the body into a black body bag and carried him out to the waiting pick-up truck. 

Miguel pinched the bridge of his nose. He didn’t hate you, but he knew that you hated him. And you had every right. You got married to him out of force, and while that wasn’t necessarily his fault, he didn’t blame you for holding a grudge on him. 

“Keep me posted on any activity. I need updated background checks on everyone working for us. We can’t let anyone else slip through the cracks,” Miguel stated as he made his way over to his car, with his brother following behind him. Gabriel nodded his head as he watched his brother leave. 

He had to make sure no on in his inner circle was actually working for Kingpin. Is someone indeed was, might as well just shut everything down then and there. 

No. Miguel wouldn’t give up just like that. He would just have to work harder and steer Kingpin off track. 

But, for the time being, his main goal was to get back home and get to his wife. It was your birthday, after all.

–

You spent the majority of the day with your parents. You had gone over to your former home- which you still miss deeply. It was such a stark contrast from where you lived now. There was just so much character, so much history in this house. It was the same house your great great grandfather had bought as a gift to his lovely wife, your great great grandmother, once their businesses were booming.

It had twelve bedrooms and sixteen bathrooms. A library where your mother would take you to read. When you were young, you’d pick out a book for your mother to read to you in bed. Mainly a fairy tale story. 

You always thought your life would be a fairy tale. You always imagined yourself as the princess or heroine, going on adventures and falling in love. However, the universe was not like those in the stories. Maybe in an alternate universe. But, not in this one. 

Instead, you were forced to marry the enemy in hopes of forming an alliance. Which, depending on how you looked at it, could’ve been seen as a fairytale. It didn’t feel like it. You weren’t in love with Miguel. You tolerated each other at best. Plus, you guys had shared history which made things pretty awkward at times. 

—-

You were back home, waiting for your darling husband to come home and wish you a Happy Birthday. He also supposedly promised to take you out to dinner. It was really an attempt for you two to get somewhat closer together. But, you weren’t sure how well that would play out. You both liked to push each other’s buttons. You were sure it would occur tonight. And honestly, you wouldn’t want to have it any other way. You wanted to be a thorn on his side. He was always so full of himself. Always thought himself to be this bigshot. Untouchable. Unweavered. You loved proving him wrong. 

You continued to wait and wait. The house staff had left for the night, including Miss Cheryl, your personally favorite housekeeper. She was an older woman, possibly in her mid-fifties. You never cared to ask her- mainly because you didn’t want to be rude and you actually liked her. 

Looking up at the clock in Miguel’s office, you saw that it was already seven thirty in the evening. Reservations were supposedly made for eight. Miguel had thirty minutes to get there. 

A part of you didn’t really care if he had forgotten or just waved it off. You didn’t want to force yourself to be nice with him, because who knew, you might just throw a glass of wine at him just as you did during your wedding reception.

You could hear a chime coming from the Alexa that rested on Miguel’s desk, signaling that someone had entered the house. 

Finally. You honestly thought he wasn’t going to come. 

Raising from his chair, you decided to go ahead and greet your husband. 

He was making his way upstairs as you made your way down the hallway, both of you making eye contact. 

“You’re late. I thought you weren’t going to come,” you said, crossing your arms over your chest. 

As Miguel stepped closer, you could notice blood splattered on his white shirt. 

“I know. Let me get changed real quick,” he replied as he walked past you. 

You knew Miguel had a way of dealing with those who wronged him. You have seen his blood-stained knuckles, bloodied shirts and a dangerous look in his eyes. It’s pretty much like in the movies. Some poor unlucky soul gets tortured to death by the boss or someone higher up. You’d like to think that Miguel isn’t simply killing people just because of blood-lust. While it wasn’t your business to judge, you didn’t want to be married to someone who is a little too eager to get blood on his hands. 

You made your way to his room, standing by the door as you watched Miguel slip on a fresh pair of pants and button-up shirt, something more suitable for dinner. Once he was finished, he took another look at you, furrowing his brows a bit. 

“What?” You questioned. 

“What are you wearing?” 

“What do you mean ‘what are you wearing’?” You asked, looking down at your dress. 

“Don’t you think that’s too revealing?” He asked. 

“What? Revealing? Where? Don’t tell me showing a little leg and shoulder is prohibited. Come on! This is the height of fashion right now, as well as demonstrating body positivity.” Miguel simply gave you a look as if in disgust. Not for the body positivity part. But rather your fashion choices. He was aware of your family’s success in the fashion industry. He even applauded it. But, he was also a  man with much simpler tastes. Tastes that you would sometimes groan over. 

“Well, I’m not changing, so let’s just get going,” you said as you grabbed a shawl to compliment your dress, and to shut Miguel up. 

The ride to the restaurant was quiet, save for the music that was playing on the radio. You two had very different music tastes. Not surprising. Sometimes you’d change the station or hook up your phone to Bluetooth. But, you tried to sit back and let him listen to his music this time. 

When you two managed to get there, Miguel stopped in front of the valet and got out. The valet driver in-waiting opened the car door for you to help you get out as Miguel rounded the car, handing the keys over to the young man who then took the sleek black suv to the parking garage. 

He gave you his arm to take. It had become routine. Show some sort of display of affection while in public. You never knew who could be watching. Sometimes cameras would pop out in front of you two. 

The proposal was rushed. The engagement. The wedding. People grew suspicious, and rightfully so. Your families quickly came up with a story of how you and Miguel were seeing each other in secret despite the rivalry of the families. The alleged secrecy of romance and hurried marriage gave you two the the title of Romeo and Juliet. Two star-crossed lovers who went against all odds just to be together despite your families and their differences. But, unlike the story, your ending didn’t result in a double-suicide, but rather acceptance, wedding bells, and peace between the two families. Everyone bought it. Well..almost everyone. 

As you two made your way inside and were greeted by the hostess, you were taken to a more secluded area of the restaurant. There, the table had been set up especially for you. A bottle of wine rested over a bed of ice, candles were lit on the table, as well as around the perimeter of your area. It would have been romantic, had you actually had romantic feelings for Miguel.

Still, he was a gentleman and he did go out of his way to reserve a nice place for you.

 He pulled a chair out for you to sit and scooted you in before taking his seat across from you. The music from a live pianist in the main dining hall still reached your private area. Had it not been for them, the room would’ve been dead silent as you and Miguel silently looked through your menus. 

“Can I pour you a glass of your wine?” A waitress asked onceshe approached your table. She was young. Tall and thin with big blue eyes and blonde hair tied up in a ponytail. And wearing way too much makeup. At least for your tastes. 

You could see how she was looking at Miguel, batting her fake eyelashes. You thought they were either going to fall off or send her flying away. Either way, you simply rolled your eyes. You didn’t care if Miguel got hit on, but come on, at least not while you were right there to see. 

“Yes, thank you,” Miguel said, giving her a charming smile. It made you roll our eyes again. Yes, he was being polite and all, but you could see right through him. 

“Can I offer you both an appetizer to start?” She then asked, still looking over at Miguel. 

Miguel then looked over to you, giving you a nod. “Would you like something to start with?”

”Yes, actually. Some bread for the table. they usually bring it out at the beginning,” you started. Which was true. You were just trying to be a little petty. 

“And how about some crab cakes and a salad for the table?”

The waitress nodded her head, her smile now a straight line. So straight, you could swipe your card through it like a card reader. 

“Yes, of course. I will put those in for you and bring you your bread,” she said before leaving the table. 

You simply rolled your eyes once again as you settled back against your seat. 

“How was lunch with your family?” Miguel then asked, trying to make conversation. 

“It was fine,” you responded. Usually, your responses would be short, and Miguel wouldn’t entertain the topic further. You knew you should at least try to get along with him, giving that you are married and that you will be spending the rest of your life with him. You simply assumed that it just hadn’t kicked in yet. You were going to try, though. 

One day.

“Ah, Mr. O’Hara! Mrs. O’Hara! A pleasure to see you two here tonight!” Someone behind you exclaimed. You could hear their heavy footsteps before turning around and seeing the owner and head chef of the restaurant. “Javier. A pleasure to see you,” Miguel said. “We were just celebrating my wife’s birthday.” “Ah! Of course! Happy birthday, Mrs. O’Hara. You look as stunning as ever,” Javier exclaimed. The man was five foot three, a mix of tan to sunburned skin, and all round. He kind of reminded you of the Pillsbury mascot. He looked so squishable and jolly. 

“Actually, Javier. Would you mind me having a word with you, real quick?” Miguel then asked, scooted his chair back from the table and stood, easily towering over the man. 

“O-oh! O-of cours! Of course! Come, come! Let’s step to the side,” Javier stated, now looking a little nervous as he led Miguel out of the room, leaving you alone. 

All while Miguel was having his private conversation with Javier, the waitress came back with the bread and appetizers. 

“We are going to need a couple of minutes,” you stated as she placed everything onto the tables. 

“Of course! I’ll make my way back around in a few minutes,” the waitress said, giving you a tight-lipped smile.  

You tried your best to not roll your eyes at her again as she left. Letting out a sigh, you decided to dig into the bread and appetizers. You sure weren’t going to wait for Miguel to come back to start eating. You never waited for him. Not because you didn’t want to, but because you knew you’d be waiting forever for him. 

–

Soon enough, you were back home. You were still slightly curious about the conversation Miguel had with Chef Javier. But, you didn’t think you should press Miguel about it. Some things were meant to be kept in private. Besides, you wanted no part of this whole mafia stuff. It had stolen so much of your freedom already. You wanted to remain ignorant of what goes on behind closed doors as much as possible. 

You both made your way upstairs, neither of you speaking as you made your way to your rooms for the night. 

Tomorrow you were planning on heading over to the boutique. Your cousin was currently operating it and sometimes you’d go to help her out. It helped you get out of the house every once in a while. Plus, you were usually filled with inspiration when you were surrounded by your family’s clothing. You were still working on your portfolio to give out to various companies, in hopes they would hire you. 

You were confident that they would. You were talented. Plus, you have your family’s name to back you up. Now, all you had to do was to make sure you get a good night’s rest so you could get up refreshed. 

#miguel o'hara #spiderman 2099 #atsv miguel #miguel ohara #miguel o’hara x reader #atsv #miguel x reader #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel ohara fanfiction #miguel o'hara fanfiction #miguel spiderman #miguel ohara x reader #miguel o hara #miguel o hara x reader #miguel o’hara x you #miguel o’hara fic #miguel o’hara fanfiction #miguel o’hara fanfic

[diana-thyme]

Magic For The Disabled

A few things that I do when I’m at my lowest. Made specifically for disabled people, but anyone can do these! See this post for low energy witchcraft ideas not directly related to disabilities.

Enchant your blanket for a good night’s rest

Enchant your coffee/juice/water/NyQuil/whatever you’re drinking to aid in recovery

Enchant food to aid in recovery

Place sigils around to aid in recovery, memory, etc.

Keep relaxing herbs/stones/etc. around

Cast a sleep aid spell (I have a bag with lavender and amethyst hanging on a bedpost)

Cast a recovery spell (I have another bag with a variety of protection and rest herbs and crystals)

Enchant fidgets or objects used to stim to calm you and to never break

Use energy magic instead of physical spells.

Use art/writing/etc. magic! Draw sigils, deities, write spells, recipes, shopping lists, etc.

Stir and infuse good energy/banishing into teas or coffees.

Keep some supplies nearby (i.e. tea lights, a lighter, grimoire, oils, etc.).

Use showers, washing of face/hands, etc. for cleansing.

Brush out the bad energy when brushing your hair.

Ward health aids or mobility aids against breaking and bless them to work quickly and well.

Use apps or websites for sigils, spells, etc. (VirtualCandleSpell for digital candle spells, Craiyon for sigils).

Keep room sprays near you and bless them to serve a certain purpose.

Make emoji/song spells! Use corresponding emojis and charge them with intent. Use corresponding songs, put them on a playlist, charge them, and listen to it whenever you want to cast it.

Use makeup/skincare as glamours.

Use sunscreen as protection!

Use wax warmers and melts instead of candles.

Use oils in diffusers instead of candles or incense.

Enchant anything you use daily.

#witchcraft #baby witch #beginner witch #witchblr #witch #witches #witchery #disabled witch #spoonie witch #witchcraft!! #not proofread again oops #may be jumbled tell me if you need anything explained

[the-gateway-to-madness]

Platonic dynamics I want to see more in the (tiny) Rise of the Brave Tangled Dragons fandom:

Jack being like an older brother to Hiccup and sort of seeing an older version of Jamie in him and not scoffing at how nerdy he is ("holy crap you MADE this? Man show me how it works!!")

Rapunzel post-her-movie being all gung-ho and cheery, and Merida trying to get her to stop being so naïve, only for Rapunzel to calmly list all the ways she was betrayed and abused throughout her adventures (and you'd only have to go through the canon events of the movie and show to make this work, btw, girl's been through STUFF) and tells Merida she is upbeat and kind because she chooses to believe that most people are good, because so many people stuck with her through so much and so many people came back to her after betraying her. And Merida is like "well dang ok, wanna learn to shoot a bow"

Jack being calm, responsible, and protective of the others without becoming too angsty in the process- playing harmless little pranks to bring everyone's spirits up, that sort of thing

Merida being annoyed by Jack at first, but it's because she misses her brothers, not because she categorically dislikes the pranks. She tells Jack this and he asks her to join him doing pranks. She has much more fun after this.

Rapunzel is good at many things, but not so much inventing, as we see in TTS; her trying to assist Hiccup and him being good-natured about it but entirely accidentally outclassing her

Jack very deliberately keeping his past and loneliness to himself, and the others figuring out something's off because they never catch him sleeping, he's pensive when he's not interacting with them, he's got such wide and extensive experience, and he starts admitting bits and pieces like "I'm older than I look" etc etc

Jack never openly getting angry with the kids because they're kids and he's a Guardian, so instead when one of them is upset or trying to pick a fight with him, his staff will glow brighter or it'll get cloudier or windier or snowier- his magic responds, but Jack refuses to, making his calm all the more scary.

Jack being the first to realize Rapunzel has been through Stuff and sitting down with her when the other two are asleep "what happened to you?" entirely gently and patiently because HE'S A GOOD BIG BROTHER DANGIT I WANT THIS SIDE OF HIM TO SHOW MORE-

Hiccup worrying/getting upset/doing that I Have To Stand Alone thing and Rapunzel approaching him like "you're not the only one who grew up alone, you know. It's okay to rely on us, we won't let you down"

Hiccup doing the I Have To Stand Alone thing in general cause I don't see that a lot in crossovers or at least the arts

The others finding Jack in weird places because super-balance go brr

Jack being reluctant to touch any of the kids for any reason because he doesn't want to see the way they treat him change once they realize how cold and inhuman he really is

Merida recognizing Jack immediately as the only other obviously competent fighter by the way he moves (she was raised around all manner of warriors and guards, after all) and immediately setting about allying herself with him because Heaven knows they all need as much protection as they can get

Merida helping Hiccup to have a moment like he has in the HTTYD books where he realizes he's actually a really amazing swordfighter when he actually uses his dominant hand

Hiccup and Rapunzel asking Merida and Jack what siblings are like

Jack just treating them all like his little siblings

Jack and Merida gathering ingredients together and, depending on the region, Jack teaching Merida the safe local vegetation and herbs because he's been everywhere. Also, Jack teaching the others how to cook with local ingredients

Jack knowing a lot about herbal medicine and helping and teaching the others

After much internal deliberation, Jack choosing Hiccup to hold his staff while he takes care of two-handed tasks

Jack knowing how to style hair because of Mary, and he and Merida helping Rapunzel tame her hair

#rise of the guardians #rotg #jack frost #rotg jack frost #tangled #tangled rapunzel #tangled the series #brave #pixar brave #brave merida #how to train your dragon #hiccup horrendous haddock iii

[eyesxxyou]

i need more gladiator miguel that was SO GOOD OMG

I gotcha cuz I've definitely got more ideas

💾 gladiator!Miguel x reader

❝ warnings ❞ sex, lots of sex, a little angst at the end

Gladiator!Miguel who you soon after hired to be a bodyguard for you to keep him close. He’s a good man, a strong one, and talented with a sword. You’d want no one else protecting you.

Gladiator!Miguel who is in attendance with you everywhere. In your bed chambers, in your bath house. So many opportunities with you alone, so many times he’s gotten to fuck you without any eyes nearby to catch the two of you in the act. You’re so good at tempting him, with sultry eyes and gently parted lips as you stand in the buttermilk waters of your bath and coax him closer.

You end up leaning against the edge of the bath with one leg over his shoulder and the other between his legs as he shoves his cock in and out of your pretty, tight hole. He claims it as his own, that unused entrance of yours as tight as a vice around him, and you let him because you want to be his so desperately.

“Fuck– Miguel! Please…right there.” You whimper as he pounds you in and leaves you trembling. You always get so hot looking at him, a big, hairy many like himself, testosterone so obviously pumping hard through his veins. You need him all the time.

Gladiator!Miguel who attempts to teach you how to wrestle upon your request. You do it in your palace garden where the grass and dirt would serve as a cushion for your many falls and defeats. And though you genuinely wanted to learn the art form of fighting, the two of you with your hands all over each other meant it wasn't long before you were face down in the flowers and Miguel was on top of you.

It was risky to do it in the garden where anyone could come through and see Miguel on top of you and your robes shoved up your waist. His hands pinned your wrists to the Earth and he fucked you with such vigor that anyone coming by would have mistaked it for an unwilling assault upon your body.

You had to keep quiet, even as he spread your ass so he could watch the way his fat cock disappeared inside you, even as he forced you to fuck yourself on him. “Take what you need, mi corazón.” He murmured in your ear, drunk off your soft body as his large hands grasped at your exposed flesh.

Gladiator!Miguel who needs his prince/princess to cum first always. You’re pampered, spoiled. You deserve to go first to ensure you’re properly satisfied by the end of it. It’s not like it’s a difficult task and the payoff is always so satisfying as he watches you make a mess of yourself, quivering with satisfaction beneath him as he fucks you into oblivion.

Gladiator!Miguel who genuinely teaches you how to swordfight. He thinks it’s a good skill to have. In the case that you are ever alone, you must be able to defend yourself. Besides you being next in line for the throne, you’re pretty, and there are many people in this world who’d like to take advantage of you.

Gladiator!Miguel who teaches you a whole plethora of things, how to fight, how to hunt, how to tie knots, etc. With each skill you’re taught, the more you feel yourself falling for him and him falling for you. In another world, the two of you could be together. In another world, a relationship like yours would be okay but you were expected to marry nobility and he was a simple gladiator.

#across the spiderverse #atsv #spiderman atsv #spiderman #miguel o'hara #miguel smut #miguel ohara x reader #miguel ohara #atsv miguel #gladiator!au #miguel o'hara smut #miguel o'hara x gn!reader #spiderman 2099

[dyinggirldied]

On My Propaganda: Why You Need To Read DEBUT OR DIE

It's a transmigration story taken place in modern world, specifically idol world. The author has done lots of research, with how realistic the setting is, whether it's within a company that sees its employees as objects or within the fandom, with how scathing, brutal, utterly familiar comments from antis.

The MC, Park Moondae, is utterly loveable. In a sense, he is similar to Cale Henituse. He is intelligent, cool, calm, decisive and collected. He is also like a father , or brother figure, protective and caring of his teammates despite initially wanting to distance from them, thinking them troublesome, etc. He also has a puppy nickname (from fans). He is also an orphan who has to grow up too fast and think people around him don't care for him.

FOUND FAMILY: his whole teammates LOVES and WORRIES about him. They are very sweet and funny but because there are 6 of them (7 if you count MC) it can take a while to remember the names.

There is more to see regarding the body where MC transmigrated into.

Pretty boys. Enough said.

There is a manhwa adaptation on Tapas but it's ongoing. I think it's about to be on 2nd arc(?). Not sure but the art is beautiful and do justice to the novel in my opinion.

#mc is the middle one #my moon puppy #park moondae #ryu gunwoo #debut or die #testar debut of die #cale henituse #tcf #lcf #transmigration #manhwa #korean novel #idol

[ancientgoddessofegypt]

Astrology Observations : Planets & Things 💙

Moon/Pluto individuals need space to heal their dark emotions otherwise they will combust and it will show on their bodies in a not so good way. They can start too look sick because their astral bodies are holding on to dead weight.

Aries Sun should always have something to fulfill them as this gives them purpose and strengthens their passionate energy. These DIY individuals can master anything they put their minds too.

Planets in the 9th house show that you will mostly move out of the state or country . Leaving your hometown will be beneficial for you. Most celebrities with these planets had to leave their hometown to find success (Rihanna for ex.)

Men with Moon/Venus can be mocked for their sensitivity but can also be well liked by women because of it. A ladys man and can be powerfully charming like a Casanova.

Women with mars and pluto dominating their chart are the most hated, but the sign everyone wants to fuck. Men hate that you may be more dominate & powerful than them, and can have twisted fantasies of how they can dominate you. Can possess a lot of weirdos with this placement. People wanting to control them and also underestimate them.

Lilith dominate women can receive a lot of secret admirers, like they'll pretend to hate them in public but we'll be in there dms like..... ;) Can make women turn 'bi' with this placement, curious Georges wanting to try something new because they just have this energy about them. This is especially true if your sun or venus is connected to lilith.

Mercury/Pluto individuals have an incredible mind. There words can make listeners change their perspective on any topic they express to the public. They can get the world talking about what ever it is they put in their art, or want to get off their chest. The intellectual that can get you to think.

Venus/ASC have a dark side that no one ever seems to notice. They can turn it off at any moment and even if they do show their dark side most people dont care or even notice it because their aura hypnotizes them. Radiate a powerful aura that can shield them from other peoples energy especially envious energy. Their beautiful energy is their protection & can be used as a weapon as well.

Neptune/ASC have powers in shapeshifting due to knowing how to connect with the frequencies around them. Its important for them to always cleanse themselves spiritually or they will take in the wrong energies from time to time.

Anyone with Neptune Dominating their chart should learn to use their mind to control their reality. They have gifts where they can quantum jump, script their reality into fruition, control their minds to get the outcome that they want (eliminating certain thought patterns, creating a world in their head and using it as art, law of attraction/universal laws are something they naturally when they start tapping into their inner knowledge etc.).

Virgos need to allow themselves to have a bit of chaos because this gives them a chance to reveal a side of themselves they dont usually see. Always being organized , living in routine, and perfectionism can keep them lost in the sauce if they don't let things crash and burn like it needs too. This helps them create from the ground up so something new can take place, and then they can create a new routine from there. Something that will benefit them much more than living the same way time and time again. Great listeners, and can talk about anything if you give them a chance. If they're comfortable with you, they'll let you into their world of thoughts but let me tell you... Its like one big wild card in there which is why they try to organize, create routines, and make everything perfect in their day to day life because their mind is going bonkers.

Cancer Venus needs lots of attention. Can and will hold on to your secrets for dear life. Can face rejection during childhood which is why their a little nurturing to other people because they know whats its like to be pushed to the side. Motherly energy makes them more likable, they can be great bakers with this placement. Hypnotizing auras. Can get their way when they allow their seductive qualities to show.

Scorpio Venus are powerhouses, simple. Seductive auras that magnetize their desires to them with no issue. They aren't ashamed to express their sexualities, in fact they admire when you worship them and their enchanting physiques. These individuals know how to use their eyes, and can possess you with them. Turning you into their worshippers with just one look. Can make you obsessed with them by just looking at them. They may have desires that could be pretty taboo.

#scorpio venus #astrology observations #astro observations #astrology theories #astro knowledge #tropical astrology #vedic chart #Vedic astrology #cancer venus #virgos #virgo sun #neptune ascendant #venus ascendant #moon pluto aspects #aries sun #Deja’s Astro observations

[ariesluvz]

PAC: How would a tarot reader describe you to your future spouse and their thoughts

collab w @daninixx

1 2

3 4

. . .

♡ Group 1 ♡

By @ariesluvz

# How would a reader describe you to them?

This person might like hip hop (😂). This person might actually have alot of worries and they might stay up all night thinking about their worries. Their work might take up all their energy and focus. This person is like a chameleon, despite of their condition they are able to work with people and match their energy very well. They are giving me strong business person aura. They have a huge sense of responsibilities. They might had to take care of their own responsibilities as well as others at a very young age that made them very strict towards themselves. Your person also has an artist side to them which they express very well. They might like art by itself. But they are more attracted to different color variations. Yes your person love to portray their mood through different colors. They might do that by playing with their fashion, dying their hair often. They might have colored their hair in a bizarre color. I see neon/pastel pink, mint etc. They might wear beige suits with their crazy hair. Might have beautiful tattoos or piercings. They are very chic and elegant and has a great sense of fashion. Their art might be their fashion. I think your person has a purple aura or surrounds themselves with purple colours. Especially purple neon light. I really think that this person likes bright, saturated and neon colors. Not like they don't like pastels. Y'all know those people who look dangerous by their looks but actually are the most warm hearted people you'll ever meet, your person is like the same. They might love to party. This doesn't mean that they are playboy/girl, spoiled. I think they stay alot of time or spend nights partying outside cuz they are very lonely. They also need warmth and people around them who radiate good energy. If not partying exactly then, they like to keep themselves busy and surrounded by many people. I think they might be very lonely for a long time but still are trying to get use to it. I find a little child in them. Possibly unhealed childhood trauma/inner child. They might be very fond of their friends trying to find warm in them. This may sometimes lead them towards wrong people and heart breaks. This person is like a fragile flower. They tend to fall for people who show just a little bit kindness towards them, maybe cuz they never had that. They never forget even the tiniest kind gesture ever done towards them. They rely on their good memories. They easily forget about the bad things they go through. Awwww group 1, I really love this person as if I wanna protect them and say words of love and appreciation to them. They are very afraid of doing any kind of mistakes. I think thing them doing mistakes is like doing any sin. They put themselves on a pedestal group 1. But nonetheless your person is a very strong and kind soul. They are not afraid to be bold but also vulnerable when needed. I really appreciate and like them.

# Their thoughts?

They will of you as their king/queen. They will be mesmerised by your amazing and so unique personality. They would want to tell you that you are so strong and that you are not alone cuz you got them. They would think of you as a very strong person. Also very fancy, they will think that you have a chic and rich personality. They might feel inferior to you honestly. They will be motivated to do well to match your level. They will kinda fall in love with you at that moment itself lol. They would be at peace knowing about you but also would be very eager to meet you. Their heart would be beating fast af. They will literally on the spot decide to give you alot of love. Does anyone trust 'red string of fate' theme? They honestly kinda do. For them it's like you are their destined fate. They would not really be in the mindset of actually believing it but will end up fantasising about you and your existence. It will all fascinate them alot. Predicting future might be very normal or like popular where they live but they will not be someone who was ever interested or believed. I am also thinking that their friends will be the one who will take them to the reader as an activity. So everything described about you will change their thoughts on/about you. They will be happy to get to know you.

. . .

♡ Group 2 ♡

By @daninixx

# How would a reader describe you to your fs?

This is someone who is flirt and knows how to have fun, your person isn't overly dependent, someone who is passionate about their goals and dreams in order to take achieve them, and will be comfortable about you because they know you are not boring, not too demanding, funny and put a smile on their face even on the worst of days. Someone who is determine to achieve their goals to have a better future for themselves, so maybe they're still studying (student). They can also be an attention seeker, someone who always imagine or day dreaming to be admired by others like i'm getting here that's this person wanted to be singer sort of, someone who talks shit behind their friends(if they have) or someone who likes to make-up stories so they will be admired by others. Someone who likes texts, phone calls and emails — i see that they might like to use discord or snapchat. Your person might have this motto " Do things you've never done before", someone who is making impossible become possible, this person likes adventure or travelling, they might plan or like this idea for their future purposes. Someone who interest of being an extrovert , someone who is elegant, rational, and intelligent. Your person is someone who are attracted to the charm of the enchanting mind. Your person is someone who is calm and has a serious personality, alongside with a unique perception and knowledge of the world, is accentuated by a powerful voice. Someone who will be professional in the field they have or they will going to take, your person will be well educated, so this will finish their bachelor, masteral or degress. Someone who have a good reputation on school or work, but if not this person can be cold and aloof. So yk this person will just be a normal type of student along with no bad records in school, if they're student or when they're still student before. Lol, someone being polite in public, but can be rude to people they know. There's is truly burdened in this person life that doesn't necessary needed, someone who doesn't what to look of what's going on around them, so this person will think that the time for them is running out very fast and quickly. It's like they think this person think they can't keep up with this, even though they really do. No way, you will be happy because this person is on their own phase of growth and healing seems like they're dealing from anxiety or fears from a very long time, this person will gonna start believing about what they can do, about themselves and will trying to move forward for the betterment. So whatever negativity is forcing them to don't do these things they really love since they're afraid of change before, this person will gonna change it and been starting facing them, negative energies will slowly fading away on their side and this person will discover the positive side of things. This person might be water signs on their moon to their chart a high tendency that it will be a pisces moon. Your person qualities, you will find them very attractive since at a very first place or beginning. But honestly, you won't be attracted to this person physical appearance, you will find this person interest of beliefs are way more into unique that somehow can influence you, someone who meets the eye with them also might be somewhat has mysterious aura. This person can also have a psychic powers or just have a hidden talents, this person likes to making plans that will be good for you rather than what suits to people, they will know the answer and the right thing to do with it. I see, you will see this person as lucky charm that will bring positive change in your life. Also, if you will be friend with this person i can't deny that in your relationship there's a lot of ups and downs.

# Their thoughts?

So, this person will think that can they already find the right one that makes them feel calm, someone who will not judge them as a person and can be someone to cry on or lend on to. That they're already reach the peace since they're feel a very strong connection with you, they love your qualities even the negative ones. They will be like "two people can blend together in harmonious way" or someone that have a long lasting love. They love how you view life and they will think that it's quite interesting since they never encounter such someone like you, your person will be having a good feelings for you perhaps that this person doesn't like drama or big displays of connection, but they will think you are out of their league seems they doubts about themselves. They will also feel very inesecure about themselves, they will have this deep and hidden insecurity. Someone who wishes to take care of you after hearing those messages that you'd been through a very tough phase, they wanted to be a provider for you, that kind of someone will look after you. They wanted to see you and love you immediately but they are still not yet ready to face you because of their strong insecurities, they will trying to heal and face these fears before connecting with you.

. . .

♡ Group 3 ♡

# How would a reader describe you to them?

Very charming. They are very classy. Tsundere kind of personality. They were born in a strict household which made their life very much planned or schedule oriented. They might also have OCD. They get anxious and frustrated if something messes up their schedule or work. Pretentious is also something that I'm getting. Not sure if they enjoy their life. They are very much careful about how they portray themselves and their social image. People might not describe them as the most warm hearted person. They might know that and try to maintain a personality that scares away(?) people. They don't show the emotions of love. They show more frustration or determination. They prioritise their job first. They are very much driven by logic. They are not the type of person to get "fixed" I'm sorry if that's like something you are imagining. There's nothing you can do to fix a person. You are just an addiction to their life but don't expect their life to completely shift of change once you meet them. But nonetheless they are very charming. They leave a strong impression on everyone they meet. You will be charmed by them as well. They have an enchanting presence. They definitely have fire dominating their charts. Their aura might be red or lucky color or something. For a woman I see red lipstick might be their favourite. For a man I don't see a colour but their facial structure is very strong or like prominent. High cheekbones, sharp jawline, prominent nose for some it's straight and for some it's a Romanian nose I think. They have an advantage in their looks/appearance which they manage very well. They remind be of those very masculine guys in Taylor Swift's songs. If woman, then probably taller bone structure lean and slim. They have ectomorph body structure. They are success oriented. I think they take everything as a deal which should be profitable for them in some way. They crave stability. They give very stereotypical Capricorn vibes. If they have a childhood trauma that might be around their home life. They might have felt very different and has now embraced the theme very well that they feel unsafe or vulnerable or weak to not be different from others. They see that being different is a powerful thing. They want people to respect them and to have a certain position in the society. These things are their moral values. You can call them selfish and I won't correct you on that. Everyone is selfish but they are very openly selfish. They are living their best life to be honest. They are very hardworking in whichever field they are in and probably one of the best in their field. And they live their life very unapologetically. They respect their parents alot. They are sensitive about their family and personal life which they prefer to keep very hidden or secret because that is only one thing they are emotionally attached to. They try their best to keep their family safe.

# Their thoughts?

Ok so you might be very different from them. Like your vibe, aura or aesthetic might be different from them. You just have a different pov on life in general and take things differently than them. They are mesmerized by this trait of yours. If makes you mysterious to them even if you don't think you are the mysterious type of person. They kinda feel very calm and happy and delighted whenever they see you or think about you. Because you are different from the environment they usually are in l, they take a lot of interest in knowing you and love the time you spend together. They take a lot of pride in you for some reason. Like when they will know about you through a 3rd party they will be like "yeah that's my girl/man". You are very beautiful in their eyes and maybe that's why they are so proud of the fact that you are their person. I get yin and yang energy. I feel like that's exactly what they are searching for as well. They want their partner to be like their other half, a part of them. This kind of thought makes them happy and satisfied. I already told you that they give me 90s vibes. So they are also very traditional and they do follow certain believes and think that some things are better in traditional way. Ok I see a red lehenga, it's an Indian attire that brides usually wear for their wedding so yeah they definitely picture you guys' wedding together lol.

. . .

♡ Group 4 ♡

By @daninixx

# How would a reader describe you to them?

Pile 4, this is a secret i accidentally pulled one more card for you so maybe my guides wanted you to have more messages. So to start this person is someone who can be a bully or the trouble is always on their side even though they don't do nothing wrong. Someone who will see your dark side and will try to get ride of it away from you, someone that is type of person "winning at all cost!", someone who have an internal conflict and inner anger but this person will fear to openly or express them of how they feel definitely this person has anxiety or depression. This person is someone who is doesn't have a filter and say what they wanted to say in his or her mind. If this person wanted to settle in a relationship they want it to be passionate, somehow this person is not yet ready for any commitments as of now seems like this person is just like the idea of being in love but don't want to be in a relationship as of now because their fantasies to "happily ever after" and healthy and fullfilling relationship, they afraid that they might end up to a wrong person and toxic one. This person is bubbly, upbeat and wholesome, woah another card confirm that this person is really "dreamy" and "airy-fairy" might be a little kook too. This person might dress like a tomboy, may have a high levels of stress. Someone who is very faithful so they tend to be trustworthy and family-oriented, the communication with will be easy for each other. The relationship with them will be friends to lovers, someone who is physically attractive and always taking care of how they look or presenting themselves. This person is probably still studying and still the progress of towards their goals, someone who is practical and following rules. Someone you can consider as charming, gentle, and sensitive, as well as fearsome and powerful. In short, this person is ✨awesome✨. They might appear to have a solid strategy and know where they going; however, this person may appear arrogant and opinionated at times. This person might be afraid to show their real thoughts however they're fearless when it comes achieving success and victory, someone who will use their will power to achieve their goals, they might own a vehicle most likey a car or a motorbike. Someone who will looking or finding their own interest and what they really wanted to be in life. They need to get out in their comfort zone since i see here they really love home or to stay at home ; if they do nothing, nothing will be moving too or everything will out of their control because success is already waiting for them they just need to claim it, and if would failed to do that they will be dissapointed for the chances. This is someone who is kind and understanding, this person is talented and creative but somehow there is something stopping them to show them off, they're overthinker. Someone they love might loss to them, it's female figure can also be grandparents or this also indicates of end of their struggles will going to come. You might meet this person through social media, i'm not really sure if this person has a family member that working to government or an authority figure seems like this person is just died recently.

# Their thoughts?

So they will feel confident about you, they will be more fallen in love with you right now, you will be someone whom capable to enjoys their company. They will also think that this connection needs more understanding before jumping or trusting their guts, so they ask you to wait and give them some space to think for it, they might feel emotionally disconnected with it and needs time to resolve it. They want you to be communicating with them with honesty and integrity, this person think you are allowing your emotions to take control of your life. Also, they feel sadness and loneliness for what you've been through, they think it's right for you to get out your comfort zone and start enjoying and doing a better lifestyle, You might be focusing on your innermost feelings, therefore they want you to withdrawing from the real world, that you need accept the situation and work on your well-being. They're someone that enjoy their flow of your emotions, and this type of person will bring balance and harmony in your life because they feel the same wavelength before. In addition, someone who they think needs acceptance of the situation, they wants to motivate you, they know this is hard for you but you need it. It is time to speak up and move about what is needed or desired before getting everything is too late. Your person think you are like a precious thing to take care of, a breakable glass. Totally they wanted to meet you and love you unconditionally but they know you need more growth and healings, so they telling you take your time to take care of yourself since you are unbeatable and unstoppable, they also like the that you are family oriented type of person that can take care of them and your future kids. They also imagine to making you a morning breakfast in bed and see your morning face like even your feeling ugly they want you to don't feel ugly to yourself 'cause you'd beauty , honestly you feel confident with this person.

#tarotcommunity #tarot reading #tarot community #tarotblr #tarot #pick a card #tarot readings #pick a card reading #pick a photo #future spouse #pick a picture #pick a pile #love reading

[buttl0rd]

I'm watching like a hawk for that new kid 🤲 THE BABY

ALRIGHT HERE HE IS!! lemme introduce you to the new kid 👉👉

this is carroway - he's the best 😎👽

this is gonna be a long post cause i have so much art and content to gush about. i love this kid 👇

Some fun character details:

he was originally supposed to be like the 90's movie tough bully kid but he's ended up just being a stupid asshole. he probably likes to think he's really cool and tough 💪

has 3 younger sisters, hates being outnumbered by girls

huge foodie and finishes whatever you don't eat. not fussy at all

always leaving his mittens outside. they get all wet and gross in the snow

affectionately ripping on everyone he loves. he's a total asshole but most people know he doesn't mean half the shit he says. the real ones tolerate him 😔🤙

he doesn’t know he’s bisexual (don’t tell him, he’ll find out on his own)

Hobbies & Interests

Aliens. Carroway is a firm believer in alien life and has an immense interest in UFO sightings, alien communication and all things outer-space. He often brags to his classmates that he has been abducted and probed, and is friends with the Martians that visit South Park sometimes (do any of them believe him?). He has a telescope that he set up in his friend Dante’s treehouse which he uses to spot UFOs in the night.

FUN FACT: His probe is linked with Cartman's. It's the connection that makes it possible for OCs to exist in the same universe as canon characters.

Drums. He has a drum set in his garage on which he practices every day after school. He has exceptional rhythm and is very talented. He keeps drumsticks in his backpack just in case he encounters a drumset or anything he can make a beat with (tables, benches, trashcans, etc.) Neighbors complain to his parents about the noise, so his garage is sound-proofed to the best of Mr. Carroway’s ability. 

Snowboarding. Carroway goes snowboarding every few weeks. His family do snowboarding trips and he LOVES it. He also skateboards and rides his bike when he’s not up in the mountains, kid just likes to go fast. He dreams of being a professional snowboarder when he’s older.

TFBW: Boarderline

Boarder is a special flying support unit, part of Coon & Friends. He delivers high-impact quick attacks with his hoverboard and can heal/cure status conditions with his awesome space beams. As a speedster he utilizes the whole battlefield and is constantly moving, making him difficult to hit.

Origins:

He was a human that got abducted and genetically modified by Martians to serve and protect the alien race. After battling in many galactic wars he returned to his home in Colorado. His abilities were noticed by the superhero organization, Coon & Friends and Boarder was recruited to join their alliance. He provides support to Coon & Friends in battle.

Design:

Inspired by the gear he wears when he goes snowboarding.

His superhero costume consists of a white bodysuit with black tape accents and a big old metal zip. There's reflective blue strips on the gloves, boots and around the edge of his signature spaceboard. He's got these iconic space goggles that protect his face when he’s flying at the speed of light.

His name is a play on words - board (from his hoverboard) and borderline (being only just good enough for Coon & Friends). Allies call him Boarder for short.

SOT: Skullrogue

Skullrogue is Carroway’s Stick of Truth character.

He is a rogue-class unit and is quick and sneaky on the battlefield. He has a long black hooded cloak and a skull mask. His main weapon is a pair of daggers that are enchanted with flame magic. He cannot use magic himself but he is proficient with weapons, especially the daggers. He throws them and uses them to stab enemies in the back.

Skullrogue has an undisclosed edgy backstory, like any rogue player. He is mysterious and broody and so cool. He is loyal to the Wizard King and thinks Princess Kenny is hot.

Post-COVID

As a young adult, Carroway becomes a professional snowboarder and competes nationally in competitions. He becomes famous and earns a lot of money from his career, travelling the world for competitions. He makes it all the way to the Winter Olympics, representing the USA in the snowboarding category

After a career-ending injury in his mid-30's, he had to retire from snowboarding early and now lives off his sponsors and used-to-be-a-big-shot money. Despite being wealthy, he moved back to South Park and lives in a trailer (it’s easier than having a huge house). 

He sometimes needs a walking aid to get around and is medicated for chronic back pain.

He was too busy with his career to find love when he was younger, so he stays single and lonely in his 40s. He still goes out and does sport events, commentaries and sponsorships - he remains famous even though he cannot compete anymore. He’s like a living legend in the winter sports community. 

I'm still working on a PCOV design for him so stay tuned for that...

Anyway that's it for now!! I hope you love him 😘

#ask box #south park #south park oc #south park new kid #carroway #buttf(art)

[nimmie-nugget]

Hello :3

Can I request?

Logan x reader but the reader is good at martial arts and protects logan? :3‼️

It can be taekwondo, or hapkido or anything u can choose :3‼️‼️

(I love ur stories abt sbg sm bro skdkkwkdk)

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Note#1: Anonnnnnnn🥺👉👈 M’SO HAPPPPYYYYYYYYYY(unless u requested to the wrong person😭🫶) recently just started writing abt em😼💪 Ego go boom boom, just don’t remind me of the Aiden fic I wrote💀🫶🫶—Enjoy!

Note#2: I LOVE LOGAN PLSSSS, I WANT SOMEONE SMART AND KIND IFHHHHHHHJEHDHSNDJ

Note#3: I didn’t really specify the fighting style or anything so you can just leave that part up to the imagination :3

Upcoming: Ben Clark X Bullied Gyaru!Reader.

Warning: I apologize prior for any Grammer, Spelling+etc errors. Cringe?? Logan may be OOC >:(

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Logan would honestly love you so much!! You’re genuinely the first person who hung out with him!! Eventually leading to a romantic relationship!!

“[N/N], is it alright if I watch?…I feel so entranced watching you practice.” He muttered to you, fiddling with his fingers as he blushed, looking down at his shoes, wanting an excuse to hang out for the time being.

Logan would have to call out on you to be careful when you pew pew around Mother Nature. He does hold some passion for it after all.

“[N/N]?…could you watch out for the bush please? I heard apples will grow on it soon and I’d really like some..!” He says, nervously smiling as he walked up to you and securely held your hand, enjoying the warmth and protection you give off.

Logan who’d always cheer for you silently when you go up against other people, even if you lose it doesn’t matter to him! He supports you no matter what.

“Nothing to be sad about, you tried your best right?” He reassured, wanting you to feel better about yourself and not think about the defeat. Grabbing your hand with tender and planting a soft, passionate kiss on your lips.

Logan just knew that he could always come to you if he ever felt uneasy!! Always came to you after dealing with Barron daily.

“Be careful?? Please? I don’t want you to get hurt..” He said with concern as he frowned, his hands holding onto your arm with immense grip, shaking.

Logan who’d always scold you and patch you up at the same time if you get injured.

“Please never do that again? You had me so worried!! Think about what your actions before you do it!!” He scolded with concern, dabbing ointment onto your wound with a cotton swab.

Logan who learned how to fight by observing you, wanting to protect you too but it’s always the other way around.

“Like this?” He questioned, looking to see your nod of approval as he practiced.

Logan when he first ever beat up Barron and the group, he ranted to you about it with a hint of anger remembering everything Barron had done.

“You can’t just go bullying others for no reason!! Ugh..” Logan said annoyed, quite out of character for him but you were definitely proud!!

Ruffling his hair as you planted a kiss on his forehead, by that he instantly calmed down and snuggled into you, looking at you as he blushed.

Logan knew that you’d go to Savannah if he ever told you about what happened.

“I know you are strong but…I don’t want you to get hurt.” He muttered to himself anxiously as he glanced at you with fondness.

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Lil Note: Hearts, Comments and Reblogs are Appreciated💙

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#sbg x reader #school bus graveyard x reader #school bus graveyard #logan fields x reader #sbg logan #logan x reader #logan fields #logan sbg #aiden clark x reader #aiden x reader #ashlyn banner x reader #ben clark x reader #taylor hernandez x reader #tyler hernandez x reader #tyler x reader #ben x reader #ashlyn banner #taylor hernandez #tyler hernandez #ben clark #aiden clark #aiden sbg #ashlyn sbg #x reader #ben sbg #tyler sbg #taylor sbg #sbg ben #sbg ashlyn #sbg aiden

[stardewremixed]

Stardew Valley Employment Headcanons

I've been thinking a lot about how many folks in the Valley don't work. In some ways, it feels realistic. A small town that is clearly dying until the Farmer comes along struggles with unemployment rates. It could be related to high taxes (*side-eyes* I'm looking at you, Lewis) and competitive megacorporations (like Joja) undermining the local economy. However, I'd like to do a little headcanon for the residents and their job situation.

Under spoilers, because TL;DR.

Abigail - after graduating with a degree in art history, Abigail starts working out in her mother's fitness group. She starts swimming at the spa. And she starts a workout regiment with Alex. Of course, this leads her to finally join the Adventure Guild full-time, protecting the Valley and exploring the depths of the mines. She still jams from time to time with Sam and Seb. I also like to think she leads a local Scouts troop.

Alex - this man deserves to have an amazing job as a pro gridball player. However, while he waits, he could coach a local kids team at the Community Center. I can also see him work part-time stocking shelves at Pierre's General Store. Maybe he lifeguards at the Ginger Island Beach during the busy season or drives deliveries out to Sandy in the desert for Pierre. Or he could work with Robin. Mmm... this man, chopping wood... fantasies. He still sells ice cream in the summertime maybe on the weekends or at festival days (because come on, Pierre needs a little competition and I love the idea of pineapple ice cream at the luau and stardrop sorbet at the moonlit jelly fest). I also see him doing odd jobs around the valley until he gets more stable work at Pierre's or Robin's. Need someone to fix your leaky roof? Alex is your man! (Because Evelyn mentions George can't do it anymore).

Elliott - I still like the idea of Elliott's secret wealth and he escaped his family to become a writer. However, maybe he regularly submits poems and sonnets via various contests online under a pseudonym, and does a few freelance articles (maybe on small towns, fishing, romance, etc.). This man deserves to publish a masterpiece and make it on a bestseller list, then gets an agent, and of course, publishes a series. He still does readings in the Valley at the library and the Saloon because he always wants to remember his humble roots and the people who cheered him on when he was a nobody in the business.

Emily - She absolutely needs to start a side-business as the town tailor. It's kind-of already in the lore, but I could see her starting up an online business (maybe with the help of Seb) on an Etsy-esque site. Also, I can see her helping out on the farm for a little something extra when she's not working at the Saloon. Maybe tending to the flowers, watering plants when the Farmer is in the Mines or off on the island or in the desert for the day. She mentions she would like to do this, but Gus apparently frowns on a side job. Hmm... well, I can see this girl eventually leaving her job at the Saloon to pursue her sewing passion full-time. She totally hosts a yoga class in the winter at the Community Center.

Harvey - He is already a well-respected town doctor, but the man is so stressed that he is hardly ever in the Clinic (at least not without mods). I propose Harvey hires some extra help, an associate, maybe another nurse, and a receptionist to assist, especially if patients from surrounding towns (like he mentions) start visiting (i.e. expansions). And he teaches first aid classes at the Community Center.

Haley - Like Leah, she needs an art exhibit to showcase her photography. Unlike the other villagers, I don't see her staying in the Valley, eventually pursuing the work of a freelance photographer and traveling the world (like her absentee parents). She does make an annual trip back for the Flower Dance, her favorite festival. I have pursued Haley the least in game so I'm struggling to come up with more ideas here.

Leah - Speaking of Leah, she transforms the Valley into a premier art destination. She can teach art classes at the renovated Community Center. She teams up with Seb and Sam (and drags Elliott along for the ride, and the writing) to produce an avant-garde film about the art all around us in small towns. I also think she grows her own herbs and sells them at Pierre's, festivals, and the Farmer's Markets (as she gives me green witch vibes). Maybe she partners with Caroline (or the Wizard) to create some herbal potions and creams. And of course, she's still at it with woodworking, though these days she works on commission for those types of projects.

Sam - This man deserves to be a rock star. And I think he'd make a great solo artist. However, if his guitarist dreams don't pan out, he has options. In the vanilla game, he starts working with Gunther at the museum after JojaMart closes. It's a strange choice, but... I figure, maybe he minored in anthropology in college. He would absolutely give amazing tours of the museum, full of exuberant commentary, perfect for kids field trip days too. And I think he plays gigs in Zuzu City and at the Saloon regularly, and maybe even out at Sophia's winery (Stardew Valley Expanded).

Maru - Nursing just doesn't really seem to fit this woman of multiple interests. She finally pursues her passion of robotics and goes to work in a proper lab in a nearby City (doesn't have to be Zuzu - my headcanon is Pine-Mesa City or Grampleton from Stardew Valley Expanded). I think she makes regular trips to the Planetarium too. I could see her visiting the Valley on long weekends, and maybe taking the local kids club on a night-time stargazing event in the summer.

Sebastian - Please give this man a proper window in his basement, Robin! Okay, if he doesn't marry the Farmer, Seb moves out anyway and goes to live in the City for a while, to find investors for his indie game studio. In the meantime, he continues to do freelance programming work. And then, one day, he makes a breakthrough game that revolutionizes the industry. After making A LOT of money, he invests in a SAVE-THE-FROGS campaign, hires multiple developers and other staff, and starts working on his next big game. But he still makes time to jam with Sam and Abi from time to time, and of course, take long rides on his motorcycle.

Penny - This poor woman needs some love. Penny pursues her higher education and officially receives her teaching license. She is hired by the local school district so she can do more than just tutor. She can finally afford her own little apartment. She starts a kids club in the Community Center, and creates a summer reading program at the Stardew Library. And I like to think she takes a monthly trip to Zuzu City to shop in a big bookstore for fresh reading material when she has some down time.

Shane - Oh this guy is definitely a mess. If you don't "romance" him in game, he doesn't really turn his life around, and even if he does, it doesn't really point to recovery as it should, imo (without the help of mods). This man hates his job, and yet he feels stuck. I propose the following. After he recovers in therapy, completes rehab, and genuinely quits drinking (forever), and of course, loses his job at Joja (suck it, Morris!), Shane starts working at Marnie's shop and contracts out as a farmhand all around the Valley. Then he can be a proper godfather to Jas, and provide some actual service at the Ranch (when Marnie's off doing who knows what with you know who...)

I have thoughts for the other Villagers in the Valley too, but I'll save those for a different post.

#stardew valley #sdv headcanon #stardew valley headcanon #stardewremixed #sdv abigail #sdv alex #sdv shane #sdv sebastian #sdv elliott #sdv harvey #sdv sam #sdv emily #sdv haley #sdv leah #sdv maru #sdv penny #sdv townies

[sailforvalinor]

A quick analysis of why Ezra and Thrawn are each other’s perfect nemesis (especially for those who aren’t as familiar with Rebels):

The reason that Thrawn is so dangerous is, of course, not just because of his analytical mind or brilliant battle tactics, but because he takes the time to know his enemy. He understands what all art historians or anyone in the liberal arts can tell you: that art is one of the clearest windows into a society, and studying a society’s art can tell you just as much, if not more than a history book can. Thrawn always takes the time to throughly understand his enemy before he fights them, and that includes the Jedi Ezra Bridger.

The problem is, however, that Ezra is not a typical Jedi. It stands to reason that what Thrawn knows about the Jedi comes from the Jedi Generals in the Clone Wars, who abided by very standard military tactics—and to a point, having fought in the Clone Wars, Kanan Jarrus, Ezra’s master, often used those tactics, and passed some of them on to Ezra. However, since he primarily fought in a small rebel cell, Ezra was primarily a guerrilla fighter. Even when they went on to join the larger Rebellion, Kanan and Ezra often avoided their larger full-scale battles in favor of smaller ops that catered to their talents, only joining large battles when it was absolutely necessary to turn the tables. And though he was a commander, it was actually fairly rare that he led troops into battle like the Jedi generals in the Clone Wars.

Additionally, while early on in his arc he shares some similarities with Anakin and Luke (especially in his struggle to figure out how to protects those he loves without falling to the Dark Side), it becomes apparent by the end of Rebels that he is on the path to becoming a Jedi like Qui-Gon Jinn or Yoda—that is, a Jedi very in-tune with the Living Force. Though he possesses many of the more physical talents we associate with the Jedi—heightened senses, strengthened physical abilities, skill with a lightsaber, etc—his talents have always tended towards the more cerebral (e.g., he was receiving extremely vivid visions of the future while struggling just to levitate an object). One really interesting thing about Rebels is that it often chooses to represent the presence of the Force with a high-pitched whistling sound, one that Ezra quite often seems to hear and let guide his decisions. He is also very prone to receiving extremely vivid Force visions. But the ability he is most known for, especially in Ahsoka, is his ability to connect to living beings. If you were wondering why such a deal is made over the Loth-Cat in episode one, it’s because Loth-Cats have become somewhat of a motif for Ezra, just like the purrgil—they seem to be always around him in Rebels, and serve as a sort of barometer to the audience as to how strong Ezra’s Force abilities are. In season one, they would just pop out and hiss at him every once in awhile, but by season four, they’re all over him—if he stood out in a field and held still for too long he’d just be buried in cats. The same goes for other creatures—he befriends the purrgil early on in the show, and is able to enlist their help in the finale. He’s also so in-tune with the Living Force on his home planet of Lothal that he is approached by Loth-Wolves, mysterious, spiritual beings who weren’t thought to exist outside the realm of myth, and shown a way to use a hyperspace corridor to travel to the other side of the planet.

However, this ability doesn’t just extend to animals—it extends to people, too. It’s like someone poured everything into his charisma stat. He makes friends everywhere he goes, so easily it’s like breathing, and people naturally gravitate towards him and want to help him. (It’s probably why he has made such good friends with those adorable rock people—he just can’t help being forcibly adopted wherever he goes.) The reason he is able to beat Thrawn in the end of Rebels is that he calls in every single favor from all the people he recruited to his side throughout the past four seasons, and when you see everyone on screen—former Imperial cadets, smugglers, deposed military leaders, space wolves, space whales, Clones, etc—it’s then that you realize just what an inspiring leader he is. If Ezra can get Hondo Onaka of all people to join Rebellion, you know he’s got something special.

Not to mention, since Ezra has spoken to and been indirectly trained by a Force being (the Bendu) and was the first on-screen Jedi to discover the World Between Worlds, it’s quite possible that he understands the Living Force better, or at least in a very different way, than most Jedi within the Order did.

To sum it all up, Ezra is just so different, so unconventional, both as a military leader and as a Jedi, that Thrawn, for all his military prowess, doesn’t know what to do with him. He is absolutely unpredictable, because he always abides by the will of the Force, something Thrawn is completely unable to get access to or understand. I always think of them when I see this meme:

because it’s almost quite literally what happens in the Rebels finale. Thrawn has pulled off a seemingly infallible maneuver, the Rebels are completely pinned-down, their resources are maxed-out, and he knows they will not risk the deaths of civilians. Ezra gives himself up, and he thinks he’s won. But then what does Ezra do? He summons a flock of purrgil who drag him, along with his entire Star Destroyer, into hyperspace and jump to another galaxy. How on earth could Thrawn have even predicted that? And even if he had known Ezra’s plan, what could he have even done?

That’s why Thrawn is so eager to kill Ezra in Ahsoka. Something tells me that he’s been hunting him in these ten years we haven’t seen them—because he knows that this one man is far more dangerous than anything waiting for him in the galaxy he is preparing to invade.

#this got LONG I apologize #this is probably going to be an ezra bridger stan blog for awhile everyone fair warning #ezra bridger #ahsoka spoilers #ahsoka 2023 #star wars rebels #swr #Star Wars #star wars meta #grand admiral thrawn

[kwanisms]

Kinkuary 18 Hyunjin — public sex // creampie

➥ idol!Hyunjin × gf!Reader summary: Hyunjin loves taking trains to visit all the small towns surrounding the city he lives in but what he loves even more is fucking his girlfriend in a train car with other passengers nearby. wc: 2.1k warnings: afab reader, adult dialogue, established relationship, sexual content (minors dni!): oral (m receiving), fingering, dirty talk, praise, use of pet names (baby girl, honey, angel, etc), public sex (sex on a train), reader is on top for most of it, sex in multiple locations, unprotected sex (just use protection lol), creampie, biting, and I think I got them all. Please let me know if I missed any! a/n: wHEW boy. This was fun to write because I had to imagine a train and then all the places you could have sex in a train lmao so that was fun. Thank you for reading, I hope you enjoyed this and as always, this is a work of fiction and all characters are not reflective of their respective irl counterparts. for entertainment purposes only. banner made by me. I do not allow reposts or translations of my works. All my works are ©️ kwanisms. Permanent taglist: @yoonguurt @candidupped @dejavernon Kinkuary full taglist: @baldi-2 @wonderfulshinee @lacie220900 @sup-dallyboy @drunk-on-dk @violagoth @mixling-blog @kosmoreads @yourfavoritefreakyhan Stray Kids taglist: @niktwazny303 @g4megirl @rapmonie2047 @indigo35 @witherednotes @cixrosie @fay-ebrahim Strikethrough means I cannot tag you. MINORS WILL BE BLACKLISTED & BLOCKED. Join the taglist!

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"Hwang Hyunjin I swear to God," you hissed, dragging your boyfriend by the wrist into the small bathroom at the back of the train car. "Make this quick," you snapped as you locked the door.

Your boyfriend chuckled and shook his head. "Fine, but be careful what you wish for, baby," he purred, leaning in to kiss you.

[twenty minutes later]

"I can't believe you sometimes," you whispered as you sat back in your seat, Hyunjin taking his seat next to you with a very smug grin on his face. "Oh don't act like you don't love it," Hyunjin replied, throwing his arm around your shoulder and pulling you into him, pressing a kiss to your temple.

"You love this shit just as much as I do."

You rolled your eyes and tried to hide the smirk that started to form on your lips. He was right. Ever since you'd met and started dating, you learned that you and Hyunjin both got off on the idea of other people being able to see or hear the two of you being intimate.

Actually getting caught was mortifying as you both learned the hard way one day when Hyunjin's roommate came home early and walked in on the two of you in the kitchen, you bent over the counter and Hyunjin buried balls deep inside you.

Ever since then, you vowed to not actually get caught with your pants around your ankles so to speak but you both couldn't deny the thrill and rush of arousal that came with the potential of getting caught. Which is what drove Hyunjin to get you riled up, hands on your thighs, sneaking under your skirt while he whispered all the dirty things he wanted to do to you until you couldn't stand it anymore and needed to have him fuck you.

The two of you had snuck off to the bathrooms because unfortunately the train was pretty full at this time of day. Hyunjin always picked the weekends for these trips to the more rural areas on the outskirts of Seoul but you weren't entirely complaining.

Exploring the areas was one of your favorite ways to spend time with Hyunjin. Especially when he found a place to sit down and start drawing. You'd spent hours watching him create all sorts of art. He loved painting, especially flowers and landscapes. He'd started sketching people recently and you loved watching him work.

The way his brow would furrow as he focused on the rough lines on the paper and the way his teeth would catch his tongue as he worked. It was subtle but he looked absolutely adorable when he made that face but over-all, he was stunning when he entered his artist mode. And after finishing his work, he'd always turn his attention to you and shower you with affection.

There had been more than a few times the two of you had sit down for him to paint a sunset only to become entranced with you halfway through and needed to be inside you. You'd lost count of how many times you'd had sex in an empty field or on a secluded beach.

Hyunjin was insatiable for both art and you and you'd be lying if you said you weren't just as insatiable for him but he definitely brought it out in you. Before him, your days were full of work, binge TV and quiet nights in but meeting Hyunjin was quite possibly the best thing to ever happen to you. He changed your life for the better.

You were brought out of your thoughts by Hyunjin's hand resting on your thigh. Your eyes dropped to his hand and back up to his face. He wasn't looking at you, instead his eyes were fixed on the window beside you, watching the scenery fly by.

You turned to look out the window and noticed that while you were lost in your thoughts the train had stopped and quite a few people had gotten off so there were less people than before.

You continued to turn your head to look out the window as the scenery zipped by in a blur of color. You knew it was sometime in the evening and your stop was coming up soon.

Hyunjin had taken you to a small fishing town north and west of the city and the two of you had spent the majority of the day exploring the town, eventually making your way to the beach where you found all sorts of sea glass and even ran into a couple sea critters.

Hyunjin had of course sat down on some rocks to rough sketch the view before needing to drag you behind the rocks and out of sight of the beach to have his way with you.

He'd followed behind you as you went from shop to shop on the main street and stall to stall in the city market, finding all sorts of trinkets and excitedly showing them to him.

It wasn't long after you left the market with a few presents that Hyunjin found a small cove in an alleyway and pulled you into it, diving under your skirt, ravishing you with his tongue, and then stumbling back onto the street like nothing happened.

It continued like that throughout the day until you finally boarded the last train back to the city as the sun started to set.

You squeezed your thighs together as images of all the intimate moments of the day flooded your mind and Hyunjin couldn't help but notice your muscle tense under his hand.

He could only wonder what was going through your mind.

You felt his thumb caress circles against the skin of your thigh that was exposed to him. "What's going on in that pretty head of yours?" he whispered, lips brushing against the outside of your ear, making you shiver as his breath fanned over your skin.

"Just the day," you admitted softly. Hyunjin hummed in response. "Did you have fun?" he asked, reaching up to brush some of your hair back. You nodded, looking out the window, a calm and serene feeling blanketing you as the scenery outside grew darker.

"Wanna know what I'm thinking about?" Hyunjin whispered in your ear, a hint of amusement to his voice. "What's that?" you replied. "You," Hyunjin said breathlessly. "On top of me."

Your cheeks burned as you turned your head away from your boyfriend. "How pretty you sounded earlier at the beach. How no one could hear us over the waves," he added, hand on your thigh moving up slowly. "How you begged me to fill you up and paint your insides with my cum."

Your walls clenched around nothing as he spoke. He had a talent for working you up with his words and light touches on your body. "And then the alley when you let me eat you like I would never have another meal again. God," he groaned softly, taking your hand and placing it over his crotch where you could feel his erection.

"I love the way you taste. It's my favorite taste in the world."

You held back a whimper as his hand snuck under your skirt, fingers dangerously close to your center where he would find you wet and ready to take his cock. "I could eat you out for hours," Hyunjin whispered, lips ghosting over your cheek and down to your neck.

"I could fuck you for hours."

A soft whimper left your lips as his fingers finally made contact, feeling your panties already wet and sticky, a smirk forming on his face. "So wet already? What were you really thinking about, baby girl?" You leaned into him as his hand slipped under your panties, finger finding your entrance and sliding in.

You bit into your bottom lip, turning your head to hide your face in his neck as he set a slow and steady pace, pumping his finger in and out of your warm cunt. "Gotta be quiet for me," he whispered as he picked up speed, adding a second finger.

You grabbed his wrists as he stopped, plunging as deep as he could reach and curling his fingers up against your sweet spot, making your thighs shake and clench around his hand.

"That's my good girl," Hyunjin whispered. "Be quiet, sweetheart."

Your hand on his crotch started palming him through his pants, wanting to make him feel as good as he was making you feel. "Hyunjin," you sighed, eyes fluttering shut as he continued to curl his fingers inside you, trying to coax your orgasm out of you.

"Shh, angel," he murmured. "I know it feels good, but you have to be quiet for me." You held back a moan, burying your face in his neck and spreading your legs slightly. "Mmm you're such a naughty girl, spreading your legs for me like a little slut," he growled under his breath. "Just for that, I should bend you over in front of everyone here and teach you a lesson."

You quickly undid Hyunjin's pants, tucking your hand under the waistband of his underwear and taking his cock in your hand. He held back a moan as you started to stroke him quickly. "Keep doing that," he warned. "And I'll fuck you right here and now."

Your grip on his cock didn't cease, instead you moved faster, shifting in your seat to drop some of your spit on the tip of his cock, gathering it with your hand and using it as lubricant. "Shit," you heard him curse softly. "Get on my lap, quickly."

You shook your head, instead peering over the back of the seat in front of you to find the car mostly empty now. You leaned over, taking Hyunjin's length in your mouth, sinking down quickly to let the head slip into your throat and forcing a choked moan out of your boyfriend that he muffled with his fist.

You pulled back to take a breath but continued to bob your head up and down, tasting the salty precum mixed with your own saliva. "Oh fuck," Hyunjin hissed. "Either you let me cum down your throat and don't get off until we get home or you sit on my cock and let me fuck you full of my cum."

You pulled off him with a soft pop, smiling at him as you sat up straight. Hyunjin was quick, making you lift up and scooting under you. He pulled your panties halfway down your thighs and grabbed your hips, pulling you back and letting out a sigh as you sank back onto his cock. You dropped your head, keeping a firm grip on the seat in front of you as Hyunjin bottomed out, his cock buried to the hilt inside your hot cunt.

"Shit," you heard Hyunjin curse softly. "'M not gonna last long, honey," he murmured into your shoulder. You purposely clenched around him, your pussy squeezing his cock nicely and pushing him towards the edge. "Do that again and I'll fucking ruin this pretty little pussy," he growled in your ear.

A shiver ran up your back as Hyunjin grabbed your waist and lifted you off him just enough to thrust up into you. Your fingers dug into the cushion of the seat in front of you as your boyfriend snapped his hips up to meet your ass, driving his cock deeper into you.

"Oh shit, shit, shit," you whined softly, eyes fluttering shut as he continued to move. "Feels so good," you moaned. "Feel so full." Hyunjin let out a groan, cock twitching inside your cunt. "'M gonna fuck you so full, baby. Fill your pussy with my cum until it spills out. Gonna make a mess," he grunted, hips hitting your ass sharply.

"Fuck, fill me up, Hyunjin," you whimpered. "Cum inside me."

Your walls clenched once more, driving both you and Hyunjin over the edge and his teeth sank into your shoulder as he came, his hot load painting your insides as you sank onto him, your thighs trembling as your orgasm washed over you in waves.

After a few minutes, Hyunjin lifted your hips, his soft cock falling out of you and scooted back to his seat, putting himself back in his underwear and zipping his pants back up as you pulled your panties back up and confined his cum inside.

"You're so pretty," he said suddenly, reaching out to caress your cheek that was still warm. "God I love you so much," he added softly, leaning over to kiss you. "I can't wait to get home and go again," he said with a cheeky grin as you pulled back.

"You just came," you said incredulously, in awe at the sheer audacity of your boyfriend to be ready to go for another round when you just finished. His smile widened, kissing you again.

"I already told you, baby," he replied softly.

"I could fuck you for hours."

#stray kids scenarios #stray kids imagines #stray kids smut #stray kids x reader #hyunjin scenarios #hyunjin imagines #hyunjin smut #hyunjin x reader #kwanisms kinkuary #kinkuary 2023

[veronika-tserber]

3rd House Ruler Through the Houses

The 3rd House in the Birth Chart Tells Us About:

How important communication is to us

How we express ourselves through spoken/written word

Our learning style and high-school education

Our relationship with siblings & the immediate environment

Our driving skills, as well as why we take short trips

We analyze the sign, the ruling planet of the sign, the degree, and any planets in the house (and their aspects). For this post, I am only asking you to look at the sign on the cusp and where its ruling planet is placed. This area of life is where your communicative abilities can shine the most.

E.g., if you have an Aries 3rd house, look at the house where Mars (also check out the modern ruler, Pluto) is placed, and read the explanation below.)

Some signs have TWO rulers, so read about both:

♈ Aries: Mars & Pluto

♏ Scorpio: Pluto & Mars

♐ Sagittarius: Jupiter & Neptune

♒ Aquarius: Uranus & Saturn

♓ Pisces: Neptune & Jupiter

3H Ruler in the 1H Your communication is closely tied to your self-image and self-expression. Others notice your manner of speech right away, and this could mean different things depending on the ruling planet. You express yourself best when you are able to freely speak up, and share your humor and opinions. You might learn best when you are physically involved in your learning. You can have a great sense of orientation and driving skills. Close relationships with siblings. Great communication is vital to you and your self-confidence. You could be a great writer/journalist/comedian or be involved in business and marketing. Short trips by yourself or for personal reasons.

3H Ruler in the 2H You probably like to think and talk about practical topics such as money, work, health, etc. You could also be skilled at crafting things and working with your hands. Similarly to the 1H people, you can have a "hands-on" approach to learning, and probably like to put any theory to the test. "Does it ACTUALLY work?" You might like to invest money into technology, education, cars/vehicles, and books. You could be interested in financial education, economics, real estate, or the arts. The financial state of your family affected your education and early environment. Your siblings ask you for financial support. Short trips for practical reasons.

3H Ruler in the 3H Communication and mental health are extremely important to you in this lifetime. Your immediate environment, education, and relationship with siblings play an important role in your life. You can be great at expressing yourself in verbal or written form and have the ability to sell goods, advertise, and be driven to learn things. You could be highly involved in your day-to-day life and love to find new and better ways to deal with everyday reality. You can be naturally skilled at solving everyday problems and fixing things. You could be quite fond of social media or the news - you like to stay in touch with everything that's going on in the world right now. Short trips with your siblings or acquaintances/schoolmates.

3H Ruler in the 4H You communicate best when you feel emotionally safe. You might be shy around strangers or people you don't "vibe" with. You could be interested in psychology and the themes of deconditioning, trauma, inner child healing, and family. You could've been homeschooled or you like the idea of homeschooling your children one day. A sibling of yours might've played the role of a mother/nurturer to you or vice-versa. You think deeply and love to see people open up to you and reveal their emotions and vulnerabilities. You could be interested in real estate, creative writing, and working from home. Your upbringing affects your communication and thinking patterns. You learn best in a safe environment that feels cozy and protective. You also might be a visual learner with strong emotional memory. You might be prone to thinking about the past a lot. You can be a skilled cook or good at fixing things around the house when they break. Short trips with the whole family.

3H Ruler in the 5H Your style of communication might be emotionally expressive, theatrical, and lively. You might love to draw people's attention by voicing your opinions or using your communicative abilities to entertain. You could be naturally skilled in the arts or want to go through formal art education. You might also have siblings that are artists. You love to talk about fun stuff, discuss art, movies, and flirt. You learn best when you are having fun! Communication with your own children is important to you, as well. You could have a "gambler" mindset or might like to take risks. You might like to buy or sell beauty/luxury items. Short trips for the purpose of having fun and enjoyment.

3H Ruler in the 6H This is double Mercury energy, so the importance of communication and service is amplified in your life. You can use your intellect and communicative abilities in your work or as a way to serve others in a practical way. In your education, you are punctual, responsible, and efficient. You love to learn! Especially about things that improve your day-to-day reality such as how to fix things around the house, how to improve your health, be better at your job, etc. You are probably a cautious driver, as well, and you can take short trips for work or for the sake of fulfilling other responsibilities. You could be interested in medical education/naturopathy but it really depends on the planet.

3H Ruler in the 7H Communication is crucial for you in your close personal relationships. If the planetary ruler isn't afflicted, you likely express yourself freely in front of others, and can easily forge new connections and partnerships. You can be a huge flirt! If the ruler is afflicted, you can struggle with self-expression. Nonetheless, people pay a lot of attention to how you think and communicate. You could potentially meet your future marriage partner during a short trip or thanks to your siblings/neighbors. You could also meet them while you are out riding your bicycle around the neighborhood, or buying coffee from your local coffee shop. Potential "high school sweethearts" placement, as well. You could have an education or a strong interest in relationship dynamics, and depending on the planet, that could be the placement of a counselor or a lawyer. Short trips with your partners, people close to your heart, or for business.

3H Ruler in the 8H In your communication, you like to go DEEP. You aren't satisfied with superficial information and you likely avoid social media, gossip, and small talk. You can keep a secret. You could potentially be challenged in your communication, and appear asocial or closed-off. It all depends on the ruling planet and its aspects. Nonetheless, you have an interest in the occult, psychology, sex, death, and other "taboo" topics. You could also come off as critical and sharp with your words. You could study and be interested in financial topics, and investments, or run advertising for a funeral agency. (I'm only halfway joking lol, and this is my placement, too 🤣) If the ruling planet is afflicted, you can be prone to accidents with vehicles or in your close environment. There could be issues in early education or perhaps strong bonds with some of the people you went to high school with. Possibly love-hate relationships with siblings, too. You like to take short trips with your intimate partners or by yourself.

3H Ruler in the 9H Your long-term goals and philosophy in life can be formed through your early education and experience of the early close environment. In your communication, you could be quite philosophical and might love to think about existential questions and the "big perspective" in life. You communicate and express yourself best in an academic environment of like-minded people/colleagues or with your professors. Alternatively, you could have issues there, depending on the ruling planet. You could be interested in foreign cultures, be multi-lingual, or skilled in literature or history. You could be the local tour guide for foreigners. You could pursue higher education in journalism, science, and writing, or decide to become a teacher, yourself. A lot of it depends on the ruling planet. Short trips for educational purposes and for the sake of adventure.

3H Ruler in the 10H Your communication abilities play a role in your career. Your education is the foundation of your profession and social status. Learning more languages, improving your practical skillset, communication, staying informed, and using social media constructively can help you advance career-wise. You could work in the field of trading, marketing, writing, teaching, and other Mercurial fields. It largely depends on the ruling planet. You could benefit (or suffer) from your ability to relate to authority figures and those "above you" on the social ladder. You probably like to feel in charge of your learning and education, but also love structure and measuring your achievements. You could have been ambitious and competitive at school. Taking short business trips.

3H Ruler in the 11H You communicate with pleasure among friends and like-minded individuals. This includes internet friends and communities. You love sharing your thoughts, visions, and interests with others, and engaging in inspiring conversations. You probably enjoy discussing social issues and topics and talking about your dreams and aspirations. You could also be prone to changing your interests a lot, and you could join many groups and communities over the years - especially in high school. You love to learn more about progressive ideas, technology, astrology, astronomy, science, etc. You might have a friendly relationship with your siblings. Regarding your learning style, you could be more fond of learning through the internet or working in a collaborative environment than sitting at a desk and having to "memorize" stuff. You could take short trips with friends.

3H Ruler in the 12H You could be really private with your thoughts. You could speak in a compassionate and gentle way that draws people in. Alternatively, you could be closed off and avoid communication or have some sort of a speech impediment/disability. You could be interested in learning more about spirituality, healing, art, mental health, etc. You could find that you tend to daydream a lot and your imagination is really vivid. It could be the placement for a painter, dancer, or creative writer, but it depends on other factors. Your education can involve the things above, plus psychology, energy healing, or the more traditional medical field. You could struggle in a traditional school environment. Your learning style is highly intuitive and may involve storytelling, metaphors, and visualization. You could definitely study better in solitude. Strong emotional memory. Great listener. You can take short trips to be by yourself and jam along to your favorite music.

The Ask Box is open for specific questions, folks! 😊

- Foxbörn

ᴍᴀꜱᴛᴇʀʟɪꜱᴛ 1

ᴄʜᴀʀᴛ ʀᴇᴀᴅɪɴɢꜱ

ᴡᴀɴᴛ ᴛᴏ ʙᴜʏ ᴍᴇ ᴀ ᴄᴏꜰꜰᴇᴇ?

#astro notes #3rd house #astro observations #astrology houses #natal chart houses #astrology #zodiac #astro community #zodiac signs #birth chart #natal chart #astroworld #horoscope

[azure-cherie]

Oracle reading

Advice for each nakshatra for February

Hii loves hope you're doing well , please check for your sun , moon and rising. This is based on vedic astrology and nakshatras so check accordingly<33 hope it helps

Masterlist | paid readings | paid readings 2

1. Ashvini/Aswini

Your advice for February is to connect to your inner self, your child self . Enjoy your days resting and taking care of yourself. Some trips and adventures to nearby places is also encouraged . There's happy energy, visit the doctor if you're having stomach problems .

2 . Bharani

There are various ways to meditate and so should you find ways to even dance and writing are forms of mediation engage in the soft and focused energy that you embody , watch the moon more often . If you're reading try reading up about mythology for February.

3 . Krittika/Krithika

For February speak up , tell people about what you need tell people about what you don't like tell yourself what you're capable of. Get into affirmations and stay away from negative self talk . You're gonna meet new people don't be shy when you need to engage into discussions.

4. Rohini

For this month you need to get disciplined with your body , are you drinking what you need to are you eating what you should . Your body is a temple and you should treat it like it . You don't need to make excuses for others I just saw 1111 , it's a good time to work on your body goals .

5. Mrigashira

Engage into self love this month , you might have a sexual encounter or just feel more energetic towards self pleasure this month , remember that your energy is divine and choose your partners wisely. Appreciate yourself this month you're such a capable being .

6. Ardra

This month choose embodiment are you listening to advice after advice but not trying it out , choose your gurus wisely and take the seriously and try to implement it . It's a good time to engage into creative endeavours and really be in it . Visit a beach .

7. Punarvasu

Study/dance/sing this month with outmost dedication, you're blessed this month , you need to work on your root chakra and be more grounded . If you have a special occasion this month wear the colour red . Okay for some of you , you might get a proposal.

8. Pushya

This month you're gonna be in loveee , I feel the valentine's is going to be very fruitful for you you're getting flowers compliments and gifts . If not you'll be more into loving and pleasuring yourself. You'll be learning new perspectives about love your advice is to appreciate all forms of love around you be it romantic platonic etc.

9. Ashlesha

For the month of February get into creativity more , learn about more forms of creativity it's not just physical like dance and arts but also of your minds and concepts . Learn to let go of limiting beliefs and create your own reality

10. Magha

Take actions this month , if you want something go get it , i hear that no one is coming to save you , you gotta save yourself, don't be scared of anyone you're blessed and protected . Also take care of your documents

11. Purva Phalguni

You might forget something important this month so take extra care . Buy yourself things and work on your sacral chakra energy by cultivating self pleasure and self love . Wear more yellow or just yellow for a specific occasion

12. Uttara Phalguni

Sometimes to attract something we need to become the thing like they say dress for the job that you want you need to be the aim that you are desiring if you wanna be confident don't wait on it rather decide that from the moment on you are

13. Hasta

Be at your home more this month, along with that ground yourself be in the earthy plane , avoid being in your head or daydreaming too much I sense you might get an accident or make a wrong decision if you're too much in your head

14. Chitra

Learn that sometimes we need to adjust for others i know that boundaries are something that one should maintain but sometimes your friend might need a listener more than your 20 hours of rest that doesn't mean an unhealthy sacrifice but a good one where you are helping someone who has helped you .

15. Swati

You're in conception of a new life for yourself this is the month to dream and achieve it all believe in the power of your mind and look for bird symbolism . Pray to the sun and drink from the moons radiant cup.

16. Vishakha

Refrain from any kinds of problematic situations this month , don't argue just detach not everyone understands perspectives and you should just leave them on their own. Work on your anger issues.

17. Anuradha

You're a perfect blend between being soft and nurturing and agressive when required don't let anyone gaslight you into thinking that's manipulation or being two faced, people can be different with different people and that's how it is don't complain don't explain.

18. Jyeshtha

Lean more into prayer and meditation this month , is there someone you have been wanting to worship or a guru you have been wanting to follow this is the time to start doing that , everything starts with small steps you're seeing synchronicities in everything

19. Mula

This is your divine month , you're gonna be dancing in storms with the devil's you're gonna be great at any cost , you took this decision with yourself that you're gonna be happy no matter what and that's what this month is about healing and dancing and rejoicing.

20. Purva Ashadha

Serenity is a place that can be often found in one's mind if you're feeling worry some write things down infact make a list of thing that you allow yourself to worry about if it isn't in the list don't worry about it , believe that nature can heal , hug a tree today .

21. Uttara Ashadha

Softness is beauty softness is virtue , if you're delicate and vulnerable give yourself credit that you are, not everyone can be soft in this harsh world . You're just so appreciated and admired and you don't even know that but you better start believing you are the it girl .

22. Shravana

It's okay to take space you're a human and sometimes things can be overwhelming, know that the right people will stay and be there for you when you can't give anything. Some people genuinely wanna be your friends.

23. Dhanishtha

Nourish your spirit with knowledge and knowing about your own self , write down your good qualities your hobbies your likes and things that you'd like to do in the future every day is a new chance to love yourself more you're transforming in the most beautiful manner

24. Shatabhisha

This month you're literally gonna rise from ashes I see you exploring your qualities and your talents your vibrations are high your mind is clear you are creative . Call upon your ancestors to guide you .

25. Purva Bhadrapada

You're gonna embody love this month , you're gonna be looking beautiful and lot of people will be admiring you and your perseverance what completely shines is your heart and your dedication. Someone notices you always keep working hard and never think you're less than anyone

26. Uttara Bhadrapada

Flow in the direction of life this is the time that the power you believe in has taken hold of your life be more based on observation than action see people as characters rather than problems see things as solutions more than tasks change your perspective you're healing glowing levelling up

27. Revati

Believe that you're in good hands of God and do each task in life as a divine human being a child of the goddess she's over you always protecting you and destroying the evil. Look within yourself is there something that you would like to change ask her to help with it she will show you the right path .

Thank you so much for reading

#tarot readings #oracle #vedic astrology #sidereal astrology #astrology #tarot reading #tarot deck #tarot community #ashwini #bharani #krittika #rohini #mrigasira #punarvasu #ardra #pushya nakshatra #purva phalguni #uttara bhadrapada #uttara ashadha #uttara phalguni #purva bhadrapada #purva ashadha #revati #jyestha #shravana #dhanistha #shatabhisha #pick a card #intuitive readings