#“is this normal” is it normal for the tides to blanket the shore?

[isatling-husbandry-guide]

There's a stray siffrin that keeps sniffing around my Isabeau when ever I take him out for outside time.

They aren't aggressive thankfully but should I be worried about this? Or things and behaviors I should look out for ?

This is normal behavior- Siffrins are just like that, especially to Isabeaus. If anything, I would worry more about the safety of the Siffrin rather than their behaviors, especially if you live in a more urban area where they may be at risk (poor living conditions, cars, limited nature areas/trees for resting, etc).

Siffrins are a very curious species, however it’s uncommon for them to approach a living being directly unless they’ve observed the being over time. Despite this, they are notably drawn to Isabeaus, and seem to disregard this wariness to some degree. Still though, direct approach takes time. Siffrins who are curious yet still too afraid to directly approach will sniff around instead, a behavior meant to show interest. Most likely, the Siffrin will approach after a little while. Keep some treat on hand for him, maybe!

Siffrins are the ideal tankmate for Isabeaus. They socialize very quickly and have a positive effect on each other, to the point it’s suggested that rescue Siffrins be introduced to an Isabeau for support. I introduced my Siffrin to my Isabeau while he was having some trouble post-Change, and saw improvements in his mood and energy + they are so stinking cute and there’s no way I can separate them ever. I swear there’s some old tale I read once where they’re compared to “the sun and the moon” or something along those lines, but I haven’t been able to find it again.

Simple answer: Very normal! Siffrins are famously weird little fellas. Very curious yet very cautious. Congratulations to your Isabeau for the stray Siffrin he ran into on the street: They will not go away.

[javierpena-inatacvest]

Sail Away

Summary: Another nightmare leaves Javi wide awake, forced to wrestle with the consequences of his past as he looks towards his future

Pairing: Husband!Javier Peña x Wife!reader (no use of y/n)

Word Count: 2.6K

Warnings: Heavyyyyy on the angst, PTSD, references to violence/death (from Narcos), panic attack and descriptions of past panic attacks, insomnia, feelings of guilt/shame, mentions of pregnancy/parenthood, comfort, still a happy (enough) ending, post DEA Javi, poor Javi just really needs a hug :(

A/N: We're tryin new things here people!! Fair warning- I feel like this is DRASTICALLY different from the way I normally write (content and style wise) but big sad time, pre-period hormones said it's time to cry 🤷🏼‍♀️ I think a lot about how post-DEA Javi handles thinking about his time in Colombia, and how hard it is for him to talk about, even with the people he knows care about him the most ☹️ I hope this doesn't beat you to death with metaphors, imagery and lack of beta'ing (I can still hear my AP lit teacher screaming SYMBOLISM into the abyss) Trying to emulate a lil @jolapeno on this one (ily my descriptive queen 👑)

It happened again. 

You instantly knew from the stark cold of his side of the bed, the empty void where his broad frame should be, his sheets twisted and tangled from where he had fought another round with sleep and lost. 

3rd night in a row, the 5th time this week. At this point, it was hard not to keep track. 

The cyclical pattern of restless nights, haunted by ghosts of his past that taunted and teased him, cruelly lurking the back of his mind, no matter how hard he begged or pleaded for them to disappear. 

Forcing himself to wrestle with his demons in the darkness couldn’t help but feel like insult to injury- the harsh blacks and blues that flooded the sky, drowning out the last glimmer of sunlight as it dipped below the horizon, perfectly mirroring the way his mind so devilishly seemed to paint his thoughts in shades of ebony and cerulean with erratic, angry brushstrokes over the warm yellows and oranges of his new life he had finally learned to embrace. 

It only seemed fair that he went to battle with the darkest musings of his mind under the night sky that so cruelly reflected his mood. 

You weren’t surprised the first time you found him hunched on the back steps of your porch, head buried in his hands, fingers twitching for a cigarette- the vice he’d sworn to give up after his final return home, a vow that moments like these had made him distinctly regret. You always wondered how despite the stark silence that surrounded him as he stared off into the dark abyss, you could still hear his thoughts screaming at you- crying out for attention, acknowledgement, anything to get someone else to understand what he was hiding inside of his mind that he was too scared to say out loud. 

His midnight disappearances came in waves, fading and reappearing like an unpredictable ocean tide that left you wondering when the cool and salty water would crash around your ankles next as you stood at the edge of the shore. 

For a while, the seas had been calm, Javi’s body nestled next to yours, his warmth comforting and covering you along with the messy piles of blankets and bedsheets that filled your mattress, the nights being nothing more than drifting to sleep in each other’s arms, haunted dreams harbored at bay. 

For the last 5 nights, the tides had shifted. A storm was raging. 

The first few nights you let him go- you’d watched him weather this kind of storm before, always insisting it was a journey he was supposed to go on alone, the type of trip you need to make without risking hurting the innocent passengers that were supposed to ride with you. 

But as the days came and went, golden rays of vibrant sun shifting to dark and lonely blackness, it felt like you were leaving him out in the abyss without even so much as a life vest, praying for a return you knew would never come unless someone weathered the storm to save him. 

“You’re up again.” 

It’s a neutral statement, enough to disarm him from the implications you’ve sent yourself on a rescue mission to find him while you settle next to his stoic frame sinking into the porch step. 

“And you shouldn’t be.” 

Not quite resistance, but certainly not acceptance to you let you come aboard with him. Not yet. 

“I was already up anyway. Someone has been a big fan of punching me in my gut at 2 A.M. Hard not to notice when I wake up and your side of the bed is empty for the 5th time this week.” 

Both your eyes shift down to the subtle swell of your stomach, barley poking out from under the worn t-shirt you’d stolen from his dresser drawer. You’d never really had a knack for thievery until the past few weeks, claiming that everything was too tight for your growing belly. Despite all his years intertwined with the law, Javi had never had a problem with pardoning you for your violation, happy to let you, his household thief, and your new partner in crime indulge in the habit if it brought you any sort of comfort in your constant uncomfortability of growing a new life inside you. 

“Already picking up on her dad’s shit sleeping habit.” He scoffs under his breath, a bitterness in his tone that he thinks he’s somehow managing to inflict years worth of poor choices on his future child, still months away from even making her arrival into the world. 

It hurts, watching the pain well in his eyes as he stares off at the stars, glistening in the distance like some sort of unreachable sanctuary, the savior of a temporary distraction. Right now, you wish he’d look at you the same way, but he knows you won’t let him wallow in the all consuming waves of his own self pity like the stars will. 

A silent journey to outer space is the easy way out. You aren’t. 

“Do you wanna talk about it?” You ask it like it’s a question, like he has a choice in the matter. He knows that you’ll be gentle with him- you have been since the moment you met him- but Christ, he also knows you’re nothing, if not persistent, too. 

He sighs, accepting his defeat as his gaze drops from the sky down to the ground, cautiously allowing you to climb aboard with him. 

It’s like trying to approach a wounded wild animal- move too fast and you’ll scare him away, leaving him to writhe in even more pain as he tries to flee from you. Move too slow and you leave him to bleed out, alone and afraid. 

“I’m fine.” It’s almost humorous how blatant of a lie it is, immediately putting himself on the defensive, like he has any ground to stand on with his claim. 

You say nothing, your silence enough to intrigue him as his eyes finally meet yours, the look on his face revealing the truth his words wouldn’t. You try your best to remain neutral, but Javi knows the sadness slowly slipping through your expression, the one you’re trying your best to hide because you’re not the one that’s hurting. Yet, there’s something about seeing you hurt because of him that’s enough to chip away at the wall he’s put up between you two, finally allowing you a crack just wide enough to let you see through to the other side. 

“I- I keep having the same dream. Every night, it’s the same.” He says “dream” like he’s letting himself drift off to sleep to all the pleasantries the world has to offer him, waking up to his midnight thoughts refreshed and renewed. Because his dreams aren’t just dreams, his dreams are the most terrifying nightmares the majority people wouldn’t even be capable of imagining, a violent parade of the worst memories his brain can muster.  

“What dream?” You ask, as carefully and cautiously as the way you shift yourself closer to him. 

“I- It’s- I just- Fuck-” 

It’s then you choose to gamble, wagering that he’s let you in enough, your next move won’t startle him, inching yourself closer as your right hand begins to intertwine with his left. He’s resistant at first, but as the familiar warmth of your body grazes across his skin, he begins to let you in, allowing your fingers to gently tangle, anchoring himself in your grasp. 

“It’s okay, Javi. I’m here. You can tell me.” 

It’s then the bets become less of a reckless gamble, squeezing him just a little tighter, stroking his skin with your thumb and feeling him squeeze back, taking your hand and finally letting you start to lift him out of the eye of the storm. 

He still needs the reassurance you won’t leave, that the man his nightmares make him won’t scare you away like they have so many others. An insecurity that distresses him enough to make him ache, despite your compassion. 

You’re not gonna scare me away, Javi.

The words still ring in the back of his head when he finds himself like this, remembering the first time you found him on the living room floor of your apartment at 3 A.M., skin tacky and covered in sweat, heart beating so fast he was convinced he was dying, terrified of his mind, and even more terrified you would leave him, letting you find him exposed, like some sort of disgusting, open wound. 

He’ll never understand why you showed him so much mercy. In no lifetime will he ever be able to thank you enough that you did. 

It still doesn’t make what comes next any easier. 

“I just stood there. I just let him- I just let him do it. He was just a fucking kid.” 

You can practically hear both your hearts break over the stark silence. Javi’s, because of all the things he’s done, this is the one he’ll never forgive himself for. Yours, for the same reason. 

“Javi…” 

“I didn’t even try to stop him. He was just a kid. We just- we just fucking left him there. What kind of person does that? I- I spent so long trying to convince myself, trying to- fuck- trying to justify it was okay. That casualties happen when you’re trying to catch a fuckin’ monster. But what if- what if none of it fucking mattered because I was the one who was really the monster.” 

It was flowing out of him now, a flash flood crashing through the rest of the brick wall he had built up to defend himself. You can feel him trying to pull his hand away, trying to keep you from getting swept away in the current with him, but it only makes you double down harder. 

“You’re not a monster, Javi. What happened back then, it- it did matter. I know it hurts, but it doesn't make you a monster.” 

It’s not his admittance of guilt that breaks him- it’s your forgiveness. 

He wonders how can stand him, let alone love him. How his past hasn’t left him tainted and useless, like some sort of lame animal with a limp that can’t be cured, its only options left to die or be sent out to pasture, too weak to venture back for help. That you were the only one who wanted to help fix the parts of himself that were the most broken and mangled. That you were the only one who gave him a chance to be healed instead of leaving him for dead. 

When his eyes meet your stomach is when the guilt begins to morph into terror. Because years ago, a mother, just like you, was nestled away in the haphazard rows of colorful buildings that lined the streets of Medellín, carrying her unborn son, dreaming about the life she would plan for him. 

Javi knows that nowhere in those plans did she account for the pain and heartbreak she would suffer as some asshole DEA agent watched her son’s body become one with the earth while he took a bullet to the brain.  

How was he supposed to live with himself when he got a chance to play God- that now, after letting a life disappear, he was allowed to have a hand in creating a new one? 

You watch the gears in his brain churn, yearning for an explanation to the unexplainable puzzle he’ll never be able to solve, even though he’s convinced he can. His brain works in logic and reasoning, only making the emotional torment of his past decisions more confusing for him. The same kind of logic that you’re not sure will ever allow him to forgive himself. 

“How am I supposed to be a dad? How are you ever gonna trust me? How am I supposed to keep her safe when I’ve done so many terrible fucking things?” Tears begin to flow down his cheeks, each word more ragged and shaky than the last until he can’t fight it any more. 

It feels like the entire weight of the world collapsing into your lap as he melts into you, so heavy that there’s nothing that you can do but wrap your arms around him at let him cry and soak the battered fabric of the his stolen t-shirt draped over your top, fisting at the frayed hems. 

He can’t pretend anymore, not after he’s shown you all the cards he’s had to lay out on the table. There’s no more facade, no more attempt at a stubborn masquerade to hide his hurt. He’s finally let you climb aboard his ship and take the wheel, trusting that you’ll guide him home to shore where he belongs. 

“I’m so sorry. I’m so fucking sorry.” 

The way he repeats it, chanting it like a broken prayer, begging for your forgiveness makes you ache. You’ve forgiven him for the sins of his past long ago, yet he still feels the need to plead to you for redemption. You wish there was a way to take it from him, to let him unburden himself from the shame he’s carried for so long and carry it for him, even if just for a little while. To let him see what you see in him, to know that you love him for all of his past, and not just in spite of it. To let him know that the storm he has to weather is a storm you will never let him weather alone. But for now, three words are the best you can do. 

“I love you. I love you, Javi.” 

And you do. You mean it. With every bone in your body, with every fiber of your being, you mean it. And right now, he may not admit it, but he knows you do, too. Those three words are enough to let him see the shoreline approaching in the distance, to see the light of day beginning to peek its way through the cracks of the night sky, to carry him back home to you. 

He says it with his silence, the way his sobs start to slow, replaced with long inhales and exhales, his chest rising and falling against you. He says it with the way he holds you just a little tighter, hand splaying across the swell of your stomach, muttering a promise to himself just loud enough for you to hear. 

“I promise I’ll protect you. Both of you. If it’s the last thing I do.” 

“I know you will. I will, too. I promise.” 

The promise is the last gentle wave that pushes you back to the part of the beach where tides roll gently, forgetting the raging currents they once were in the middle of the ocean. A place where you can safely row your boat ashore without the fear of another dreadful thought creeping up on you and dragging you back out to face torment again. 

As you look out in front of you, the sky is no longer laden with heavy shades of black- a pastel sunrise is beginning to creep over the horizon, glistening like some sort of trophy for an underdog fistfight you’d managed to win, even if you’d come out the other side beaten and bruised. It was enough to nudge Javi’s head out of your lap, encouraging him to accept his prize at a game where winners came few and far between. 

Tonight, you'd never been more thankful the universe had let Javi come up a winner.

“It’s been a long time since we’ve been up early enough to watch the sunrise.” 

“Yeah. It is pretty, isn’t it? Sorry this is the reason you get to see it.” 

“As long as I get to be with you, that reason will always be good enough.”

@chaotic-iguana @rhoorl @bbiophiliaa @pertinentpostmortem @angelofsmalldeath-codeine

@pedrobaby @fatima-marisa @beboldbebravethings @poodlebae @kittenlittle24

@3sriracha @jungchloee @perennialdoll247 @prettyinpunk85 @raspberrybesitos

@partyofone3413 @harriedandharassed @pedrohoe04 @theorganasolo

@endlessthxxghts @beware-my-thorns @missladym1981 @milly-louise

@jay-zzle @the-one-with-the-grey-color @persephone-girl @bitchesuntitled

@pedropascallvr @millennial-teenybopper @vee-bees-blog

@hopplessilse @mxtokko @its-nebuleuse @mandoisapunk @msmorningstaarr

@amyispxnk @honeyedmiller @mountainsandmayhem @picketniffler @burningnerdchild

@copperhalfcent @theoraekenslover @bloodyinspirationaldemon @vee-bees-blog

@samgirl4life @pigeonmama @survivingandenduring @itsokbbygrl @javierpena-inatacvestnotifs

[majimasleftasscheek]

I've been thinking, about how you would make sea creature kazumaji... do you already have headcannons for that or is it something more new?

a lil mix of both 🤔 I originally drew eeljima for MerMay and was gonna leave it at that but I got really attached to the idea of kiryu and his dumb fish boyfriend so I rolled with it kdlsjfddsf. I got a few ideas tho 👀

majima's an eel - nothing specific but I leaned to electric since the rpg games give him electricity as an element. also, knifefish (what a coincidentally convenient name 👀) have spots that remind me of his snake's spots so that fit well with his overall theme plus they're related to eels so even better >:D saejima's also a fishdude, a grouper specifically because they're huge and chonky but also gentle uwu

kiryu's a silly lil fisherman guy, one of them commercial types that goes out on a boat to get big hauls. nishiki's there too being the saddest wettest little beast. other characters make up part of the crew in similar ways the canon families are set up. so like kazama and kashiwagi for example are captains of the crew

I have thought about if they were fish too if I wanted to do a branching AU of this and kiryu could maybe be a thresher shark - because they got that big slappy tail but also their huge beautiful eyes™. OR a betta fish because I think the colors would really compliment his heat colors. nishiki can be a koi because of course

kiryu and nishiki live in a lil shack on the shore. nishiki hates it but kiryu likes the simplicity and being close to work. nishiki would move closer to the city but frankly all the haircare product he buys is so obscene that he can't afford a place on his own ✌

majima and saejima (+ yasuko) live in some nearby kelp forests/coral reefs. merfolk tend to stay away from humans and live further out in the ocean, deeper underwater but these three take advantage of all commercial fishing going on to get some easy food. but being so close to fishing trawlers, this leads to majima getting caught in a discarded net, being trapped and beached where kiryu finds him 👀

merfolk can breath air and go on land but it is as awkward as you can imagine. when majima hangs out with kiryu, kiryu drags him up the beach to enough dry land where the tide isn't a problem. merfolk do have to be moisturized often so majima's either doused with a bucket of water or gets a big ass lathering of lotion. whether or not that'd actually be realistic doesn't matter to me I just think it'd be funny for nishiki to be very suspect of the comical amount of lotion kiryu suddenly starts buying

majima's fav thing to do with kiryu is have him fry up some fish since he's never had cooked food before and thinks it's the bee's knees. kiryu will often go into town to buy all sorts of things for majima to try or majima will catch some wack fish from who knows where for kiryu to fry up. they pick secluded beaches as not to be disturbed but kiryu is ready to fling majima into the ocean at a moment's notice just in case

majima has a second set of jaws normally not visible unless he's snacking on a fish. sometimes he pops em out for a smooch and kiryu is wary but willing to try anything 😤 nishiki is often very worried about the numerous weird bite marks kiryu comes home with but kiryu chalks it up to clumsily falling face first into some coral. you can tell by now I'm very into the trope of person dating a cretur is very bad at keeping it a secret dsklgjk

majima tends to have electrical flare ups when he's feeling emotional so kiryu ends up getting zapped a lot. it's not enough to be dangerous but kiryu has since avoided touching light switches and makes nishiki use them first

rarely kiryu will take majima out on the town in a wheelbarrow covered in a blanket and everyone's like *squint* but eventually gets used to his funny lil friend who seems fascinated by literally everything

there's defo some tigerfish action at a later point once nishiki eventually decides to follow kiryu to one of his little secret beachside escapades to not only find out kiryu's being a weirdo as usual but now with a weirdo fishguy. on the other side, saejima is eventually convinced that there is not a bunch of people on the shore waiting with harpoons and nets and joins majima for one of kiryu's fish fries and finds out hey maybe humans ain't so bad if they can put up with majima for more than five minutes

[littlemissaddict]

I'm Sorry - Steve Harrington x Fem!Reader

Summary: An argument which ends in tears and almost a break up.

Word Count: 1501

She couldn’t remember how the argument had started, only knew that right now they were up in each other's faces screaming at each other. She had tried to get away to calm down so that they could talk about it without the screaming but every time she tried to step away Steve followed, clearly not content with letting her walk away. Until the red hot anger that was filling her was washed away like the tide leaving the shore the moment she slammed Steve’s bedroom door shut in his face with a few choice words that she didn’t really mean, leaving her with an overwhelming feeling of guilt.

Once the door was closed she could still hear him on the other side asking her to open it but that died down after a couple of minutes until she was left in silence. Silence that she sorely needed as all the shouting had left her with a headache, whether because of the loudness of it all or the stress it brought on she didn’t know. Leaning back against the door she let her body sink until she was sitting on the plush carpet with her knees against her chest and head resting on them as she tried to fight back the tears she knew were coming.

Normally a small argument never upset her but this was her and Steve, they never argued. Plus this didn’t feel like a small thing not with the way they were screaming or with the only way she could get a break was to slam a door in his face.

Ignoring the wetness of her face and the ache that was beginning to form in her legs because of how long she’d been unknowingly sat on the floor for, she reluctantly pushed herself up and padded over to the bed hoping that exhaustion would overtake her and she would wake up in the morning and this would all be a bad dream. Only that didn’t happen, once she was in the bed and wrapped in the sheets, she was surrounded by the scent of him and her mind seemed to want to torment her even more as all she could picture was the look on his face and hear the anger in his voice.

Just like earlier when she had been sat on the floor she had no idea how long she’d been laid under the covers tossing and turning, for all she knew it could have been five minutes or five hours but she was certain of one thing, she missed Steve. Deciding that she couldn’t lay there any longer without him, she untangled her legs from the sheets and made her way back to the door, opening it slowly as she was half expecting him to be sat there with his back against it and she didn’t want him to fall backwards and possibly hurt himself.

A mixture of emotion filled her when she found that he wasn’t there. Disappointment that he’d given up and left her but also relief that he wasn’t sitting on the cold floor while she’d been relatively comfy in his bed. Leaving his room she found herself tiptoeing through the house, although she wasn’t sure why as his parents weren’t even home as per usual so it was only her and Steve, she figured that it was because she didn’t want him to hear her coming so that he couldn’t start round two of the argument.

What she hadn’t realised while she’d locked herself in his room, Steve had found the blanket that he always kept for her to use when she was round, the one that smelled of her perfume and had wrapped himself up in it on the couch in the living room. He had switched the tv on in hopes of a distraction but he had no idea what was on as his mind had gone into overdrive, only focusing on those few words she’d spat as she slammed the door in his face.

“Maybe we should just break up”

They played in his head on loop and he was sure that that was it for the two of them, come the morning she would emerge from his room and ask him to take her home and that would be the last he saw of her. Or she would call her parents to come pick her up and slip out while he was asleep, if he ever fell asleep that was but what he didn’t expect was to look up and see her standing a few feet away from him, hell he hadn’t even heard her come in the room.

She had started to speak, there was a tremble to her voice and he couldn’t help but hear how sad she sounded. Unable to hear anymore, he stopped her with a sad smile, “It's okay I understand, let me just grab my keys and I’ll take you home” he spoke, trying to keep his voice steady and not sound like his heart was tearing itself in two in his chest.

“Ta-take me home?” she stuttered, her confusion evident in her voice before she sniffed followed by her quickly wiping her eyes on her sleeve, unbothered by the make up stain it would leave behind. “You want me to leave?” she asked, her bottom lip jutting out in a pout as she hoped he wouldn’t see how obviously it quivered as she tried to hold back the sob that was threatening to escape.

“I uh just figured you’d made up your mind and all” he shrugged, still trying to give off the impression that her breaking up with him wasn’t hurting in the slightest and it seemed he was playing the part all too well as the tears she was holding back rolled down her face like the breaking of a dam, slowly at first then uncontrollably until the room was filled with loud sobs and she was gasping for breath so much so that it had Steve in a panic. Within seconds he was up off the couch, the blanket falling from his shoulders in the process but it didn’t even register with him as his whole focus was solely on her.

“Baby no please don’t cry I’m sorry, I-I don’t want you to go, I want you to stay, god I’m such an idiot” he rambled as his hands gently cupped her face to draw her attention to him. His thumbs brushing over her cheeks in what he hoped was a soothing manner but also in a futile attempt to wipe away the tears that were still flowing, albeit not as heavy now.

“You don’t want me to go?” she hiccupped, her hands reaching up to clasp his wrists as if to stop him from leaving even though he wasn’t planning on going anywhere. “Then why did you say?” she started to ask but got cut off by another hiccup after he shook his head in response to her first question.

“You said you wanted to break up, I just figured you’d want to go home rather than stay here” he replied softly, his hands still caressing her cheeks even though the tears had all but stopped now.

“I didn’t mean it, I’m sorry” she sniffed, wriggling out of his grasp and practically throwing herself against him. Her arms were quick to wrap around his middle and she held him tight, face buried in his chest as she was still slightly worried that she would never get to hug him again if she let go. “I love you” her voice was muffled against his sweatshirt but Steve heard it as clear as day.

His whole body relaxed at her words, his arms coming up to envelope her shoulders as he held her just as tight as she was holding him, “I love you too baby, nothing can ever change that” he promised, dipping his head down to place a kiss to the crown of her head just before she shifted in his arms.

“Even when I’m icky and wet from crying and I’m getting it all over you” she asked as her head tilted up to look at him and a soft pout rested on her lips, although this time it was playful rather than an ‘about to burst into tears’

He nodded in response, a small smile playing at his lips, “Now how about cuddles in bed, I’ll be the big spoon so I can make sure you don’t slip away in the night” he teased, pulling a giggle from her. Oh how he’d missed the sound of her laugh, for a while there he didn’t think he’d ever hear it again but he’s so glad he does and he plans to make sure he cherishes everyone because he never knows which one will be the last.

“I would never” she smiles, letting him pull her along and up to his room where he never lets go of her for the rest of the night.

[splicedskies]

Planned Starter for @venalos

It was a little rough when it came to camping in Alola.

It wasn't the weather, the people or just the general demeanor toward a trainer with no home. It was the locations.

Rocky terrain made for terrible camping grounds, as with the more densely wooded areas. But the beaches? They were often perfect, so long as it wasn't outside of Po Town with it's constant rains or if the tide ran too high.

That is if you were a fan of the water, and didn't mind constantly brushing sand out of the fur coats of your often very fluffy partners. Thus was the case with Altra. He had the Gengar tent set up on the longer strip of beach on Melemele Island. A blanket down to at least stem the sand from getting IN. Though it wouldn't stop his Zigzagoon from dragging as much in after chasing the receding waves, but it helped.

And for now, it was easily nearing midday. A few passerby's coming and going along the beach but it stayed relatively empty.

Thus it was go time for the tiny Galarian Zigzagoon. Plenty of room to run, dive into banks of sand left over my tourist-y folks..

Or in the case of Altra's eternal headache, into the water itself.

'AAHAHAHAHAHAHA! Come on lad! Ya' got ta' be faster than that!'

"Desmond can you.. will you not- I.. uhhggg..!" He huffed angrily, arms slumped at his side as he watched as the little black and white racoon plunged into the first wave to crash onto shore. Laughing his little head off.

'Ooohhhh scary water! Ooohhh no! Ahahahah!' He paddled around, short little legs only barely grazing the sand as the surf caried him just a touch closer to his trainer. And it was always a point of teasing at the teens aversion to it all.

"I don't want you to get my clothes soaked.." A huff as then Altra.. paused. Normally he'd continue scolding the Zigzagoon but something caught his attention.

'Haha.. eh.. eh-? Lad?' The sopping wet little racoon shook off his fur before padding over to his Trainer's side, noting that the teen was looking out over the water.

'See somethin'?'

".. Yeah.. I see something moving out there." Altra blinked, eyes squinting just a bit to try and get a look at what looked to be a large figure moving under the waves.

'Oh? Might be some water Pokémon, it IS the Ocean.'

"No no no.. like.. something big.." How big, he couldn't tell, but he could see something at least peering out from the water. Maybe it was distance, but it looked rather large.

'Oh... eh? Huh-'

[paraliveimaginesblog]

could ya give me some hc of shion and s/o on the beach? this topic is really interesting...

Shion Kaida:

This is almost like torture for him, and he has to wonder if it’s a test to see if he’s truly a vampire or not. He had agreed to it under the condition it be on a shadier side of the beach, on a day he knew wouldn’t be so miserably hot he couldn’t admire you in your bathing suit.

He tried to make the most of it. Could you put sunscreen on his back to protect his sensitive skin? He had come onto the beach fully clothed to protect himself but it was still too sunny out to keep those clothes on the entire time, and while he was protected from the harshest rays by the large umbrella he was seated under, he thought it was pretty normal to use sunscreen. He let out happy sighs as you rubbed the lotion into his skin, your cheeks burning from more than just the sunlight by the time you were done lathering him up.

He concludes the beach is far more tolerable, and much more romantic, at night. Getting to sit on a blanket together as you listened to the sound of crashing waves, hidden in comfortable darkness and able to canoodle if you so wished to, that was the type of date he’d sign up for. He’d even be able to take a walk with you along the shore, careful not to lose you to the strong pull of the tide as the moon shone brightly overhead.

[adminbryantsaki]

Mermay 2023.

 Alpha! Merman! Hizashi Yamada x  Beta! Reader.

(I do not own Hizashi Yamada/Present Mic. He belongs to Horikoshi Kohei. If this isn’t your cup of tea, blend of spices or brew of coffee, move on. Reader discretion is advised.)

TW: ABO, Smut, oviposition. WC: 3,043

You were sitting on the back porch of your beachside cabin, enjoying the cool air of night, a warm drink and blanket you put over your lap to tide off the windchill that would come, and the stars that were scattered across the blanket of the sky, keeping you transfixed on the vast amount of them, with the lull of the waves lapping against the sandy shore. A louder splash broke your trance on the stars above and your eyes went to the shore, You looked over at one of the giant boulders that marked where the tide would normally go out to when there was a negative tide. You caught a glimpse of a shimmering fin and figured it was just your mind playing tricks on you and you decided to go back into your house to finally tackle your insomnia and going to sleep. As you stood up and gathered your blanket and mug, you couldn’t shake the feeling that something was watching you, something hidden and mysterious was watching you from where the boulder was but you couldn’t see anything in the black of night. You shrugged it off and went inside, telling yourself that you’d investigate the situation more in the morning, after you had gotten some sleep. Little did you know, there was a pair of piercing green eyes watching you from behind the boulder. With another loud splash, whatever the creature was, had now gone and back down to the depths of the deep.

You woke up the next morning and prepared some breakfast for yourself while checking the tide charts for your area and looked out the sliding door to see the waves still rolling and crashing against the shore. After you had your favorite beverage to help you start your day and got changed, you walked out the sliding door and locked it before turning to begin your adventure on the beach. You began strolling towards the boulder that was now beached since the tide had gone out and you began walking closer to it, wondering if there had been any sign of something had been lurking nearby the night before. You walked a couple times around the boulder before noticing something sparkling in a crevasse of the boulder and you pulled it out to see that it was a scale, looking like a shell now that had Mother of pearl in it and you placed it in your satchel that you always carried with you when you went walking on the beach to collect intricate shells or rocks that had washed up with the waves.  You kept walking and found more weird looking scales all of them having the same mother of pearl sheen on them. Once you had packed your satchel full of them, you went back to your house and dumped them out on your table and laid them out in a tail pattern looking like a fish. You were excited about this but you were also tired from walking on the sand for so long so you decided to rinse off and change clothes before crashing in your bed and taking a nap.

When you woke up, there was a mysterious, shirtless man wearing trousers at your back sliding door looking into the house. You were startled and you felt the same way that you did the night before, the same strange feeling that something was watching you. Seeing that the man wasn’t a threat, you approached the door and looked up at the man who pointed at the door handle as if he was asking you if you could open it. You unlocked the door and opened it. That’s when the man saw the scales on your table and lunged at them. You jumped out of the way and looked at the  man who was now glaring at you and hissing as he had piled all the scales together and was holding them to his chest as if his life depended on it. “Whoa! Hey. What’s going on?” You asked. “Mine.” He hissed and curled his body more protectively around his scales. “I’m sorry! I didn’t know they were yours. I just thought they looked pretty so I collected them and brough them home. You can have them back. I really didn’t know they were yours… What do you need them for?” You asked as you were curious. You then took the opportunity too take a better look at the being that had dashed into your house and began hissing at you rather rudely. He had long blonde hair and vibrant green eyes that seemed to captivated you. He looked you up and down and scooped up the shells into his arms and darted out your sliding door and out onto the beach before you noticed that he was gone along with the scales. You looked out the sliding door and saw that he was booking it back to the boulder and the ocean. You then scrambled out of your house and chased after him. “Wait! I just want to talk with you. I didn’t mean to take your shells! Don’t run away please! I’m not going to hurt you.” You called out after the man. He paused as he was standing in the waves that were beginning to wash up on the boulder as the tide was turning to the high tide. He clutched the shells closer as you approached him. “What do you want?” He asked slowly. “I only want to get to know you. I really and truly didn’t know that those shells you’re holding were yours. They were scattered across the beach and glinted in the sunlight. I collected them because I thought they were pretty.” You spoke. The man looked at you with an unsure look and frowned. “What were you going to do with them?” He asked and pressed against the boulder. “I was going to make a wall hanging out of them and sell it. It’s what I do with the stuff I find on the beach so I can make some pocket money.” You told him. The man hissed and glared at you. You backed off from him so he couldn’t attack you. But he was also too fixated on making sure the weird looking shells he owned not drop from his arms. “What are those shells to you? They seem important.” “They are my scales. I shed them every night when I come to land and try to find a mate. I haven’t had any luck yet and I have to return to the ocean every day until I can find a mate and live with them either on land or in the sea, it depends of where that person is from.” He spoke and got a little anxious and stepped further into the waves. “Okay. Can you tell me your name before you go? If you want I’ll stay up for you and wait for you to come out tonight.” You spoke. “My name is Hizashi. I’d like to have someone wait for me. No one on land has done that for me before. Thank you. I’ll see you tonight.” He spoke before looking at you one last time and walking back into the waves and dove down with the scales still in his arms. You watched until he was gone and the flick of his tail fin had slipped beneath the waves.

You walked back to your house and went about your day, setting some clothes and a bag for his scales to be gathered in so they didn’t get scattered all over the beach again on your back porch for him to wear before going about your day, waiting until evening after the sun had gone down and the stars came out again. You had made a simple version of your favorite pasta dish to share with Hizashi when he came back that night. You were plating the dish when you heard a light tapping noise at your back window to see Hizashi wearing the clothes you had left for him and he was smiling softly when he saw you notice him. You opened the back door for him to be let inside your house and he looked around the place.

“This place is nice. I guess I didn’t take much of it in earlier. I’m sorry for my actions earlier as well. I was worried about my scales.” He told you and took a sniff of the air. “What’s that smell? Did you cook something?” He asked and looked over to the dish you had made for the two of you.

“I made my favorite pasta dish for the two of us. It’s simple and I thought you might want to try some human food.” You told him and he smiled, sitting down at the counter, pulling one of the plates towards him, and watched you sit down before eating. You watched him use a fork to eat the food before you took a few bites of your own food. “This is good. I haven’t had much human food except when I can try to find small scraps from restaurant’s leftovers.” He told you as he ate. “Then come here and eat when you’re hungry. I like to cook so I’ll make things for you.” You told him. He nodded and finished his food before he stood up and went to your back door again. “Where are you going?” You asked. “I have a campsite that I stay at along the dunes. I’m going there as the evening meal is over and usually humans enjoy activities to relax before going to sleep. Isn’t that what normally goes on here?” He asked as he looked back at you from where he was standing at your sliding door. “Some people do that, yes. But I wouldn’t mind your company. I’d like to learn about your world. Also, I enjoy staying up late at night. Its when my mind works more and I’m not as tired.” You told him and smiled. He entered back into your home and sat down on the floor. “What happens now?” He asked you as you cleared the plates from the table and cleaned them. “Well, we can watch a movie, I might read a book or play a videogame. What do you want to do?” You asked him. He looked intrigued when you said videogame. “What’s a videogame?” He asked and tilted his head.

“A videogame is a game played on a console or computer. The images show up on a screen like my TV.” You told him and pointed to your entertainment system.  He went over to the system and checked it out. He found your Xbox and pulled out a couple of your games and the controllers. He showed one of the controllers to you as he didn’t know how to use it. you walked over to him and showed him how to work the joysticks and the buttons. You plugged in and easy game for him to learn how to play with and sat back on your couch to watch the Merperson learn about videogames. You let him play for a couple of hours before you were growing tired. He looked back to see you doze a little bit and he smiled softly. “I’ll get going now. Unless you wanted me to stay the night.” He spoke. You snapped your eyes up to meet his. “I’d be okay with you staying the night. It’s colder out tonight and I wouldn’t be happy if you got sick. Let me go set up the guest bedroom for you.” You spoke and rose from the couch only for him to stop you by his hand on your arm. “Don’t put too much effort into this. I’ll be just fine sleeping on your couch. I’d have to leave early in the morning anyways… I need to be back in the ocean before the sun is up.” He spoke. You nodded and looked down as you were sad that he wouldn’t be there for you to see in the morning. “Alright. I’ll at least get you a pillow and a blanket.” You spoke and retrieved said things from the guest bedroom and handed them to him. “Thank you, Y/n. I hope to see you again tomorrow, if that’s okay with you.” He spoke as he took your hand and kissed the back of it before you went to your bed for the evening. “Yes, you can come see me tomorrow evening. We can have dinner again and  maybe watch a movie?” You suggested. He smiled and nodded. “I think you human call it ‘ dinner and a movie’. Correct? Does that mean we’re having a date?” He asked. “Um… Only if you want it do be. I wouldn’t mind.” You told him. “Me being a merman doesn’t worry you?” He asked. “Not at all. You did say you came to land to look for a mate, yes?” You asked. “I did. A date tomorrow evening. I’ll see you then. Have a good night, Y/n.” He told you and went to the couch and spread out the blanket and the pillow on the couch and laid in it before you went to your own room with a squeal of delight. The next morning you woke up to find food under a plate on the stove for you and your Merman absent from your house with the distant crashing of the waves only a few feet from your home. You sighed as you wanted to have a nice morning with him, but that would have to wait. You had your breakfast and morning beverage before going to work, now having a source of inspiration for your next story. A few hours later is when you noticed the time and began to get ready for the dinner date with Hizashi. You looked outside as the sun reflected off the waves, creating a fiery effect which transfixed you.

You didn’t notice Hizashi enter your house since your vision was fixated on the waves and the sunset. He walked over and kissed your cheek gently which shook you out of your trance. “Oh, hello.” You spoke and looked at him. “Hi. What were you staring at? It seemed to have you entranced.” He spoke as he brushed a strand of your hair out of your face. “The sunset looked pretty on the waves tonight.” You told him and walked to the table where you had cooked another simple dish but it was tacos this time. You sat down across from him and ate again, staying silent as the two of you ate. You were still processing the fact that he kissed you and gently touched your cheek where he kissed you as you ate your food. “What’s going on?” He asked you. “That kiss you gave me. Why?” You asked. “I wanted to get your attention. You seemed distant.” He told you and ate the rest of his food. “Was there a movie you picked out for tonight?” He asked. “No. I completely spaced it. I’m sorry.” You told him and finished your food to gather up the plates and clean them. Hizashi stood up and walked over to you. “You should rest. I’ll clean them tonight. I watched you last time.” He spoke and took the sponge from you. You went to the couch and began scrolling through your streaming services to pick out a movie. Hizashi joined you and looked at the movie options with you. Once the two of you settled on a movie that was your favorite, you played it on your TV. Part way through the movie, Hizashi put his arm around your shoulders. You felt your face heat up but you leaned into him, taking in his scent of saltwater and seaweed. He smiled and looked at you. “I don’t know if I’ll be able to come back tomorrow night.” He told you. You looked up with concern.

“Why not?” You asked. “I need to find a mate or the elders of my village will pick one for me… tonight was the last night for me to pick one.” He said sadly. “Why didn’t you say so beforehand? I’d love to be your mate!” You told him excitedly. “That sounds wonderful. I’ll help you through what we need to do after the movie.” He told you and watched the rest of the movie with you. One the credits rolled, you looked to him. “What do I need to do?” You asked. “I need to share a bed with you for one night and give you a mark on your neck.” He told you. “Lets do it.” You told him. He stood up and let you lead him to your bedroom where you let him inside and he close the door behind him. He led you to the bed and kissing you deeply. He helped you out of your clothes and proceeded to insert his cock into you and filling you up with eggs and his seed. Once the deed was done, he pulled out and passed out soon after. You woke up the next morning, surprised to see the space in your bed next to you still occupied by your now mate. He opened his eyes and held your hand. “Good morning.” He told you and kissed your head. “You stayed… I thought you would be going back to the ocean?” You told him as you moved closer to cuddle him. He wrapped his arms around you. “I don’t have to go back to the ocean unless I need to. I’d prefer to soak in salt water so my legs don’t dry out and I get sick, so I’m stuck here with you.” He told you. You couldn’t be happier. You laid in bed with him and got to know more about him for the rest of the morning.

The two of you lived happily ever after. The end?

[oceansrevenge]

Walking Nightmares || Marina & Teagan

TIMING: Mid-June PARTIES: @closingwaters and @oceansrevenge SUMMARY: A sleep-walking Teagan finds herself in the ocean. Fortunately for her, Marina is nearby and senses she's fae, too, and saves the day. CONTENT: Some not-so-subtle innuendos & mentions of child death

Nightmares weren’t uncommon for the nix. She’d dealt with them ever since the incident. No two were exactly the same, but they did have the same components. Darkness and blood. It flowed, covering every corner, lathering it in what a young fae once slept in for a whole nice. The sorrow was like a heavy mist. It bellowed and thickened, blanketing Teagan like the most painful quilt ever made. Her mouth opened with a silent scream, but nothing greeted the air. 

Teagan’s lungs ached to release decades of pain, to reach her mother and her siblings. She wanted to end the terror and turn on a light. To pull herself from the place she could not escape. Splash!

Hitting the water struck whatever dream out of the way, forcing Teagan to wake with a powerful start. She gasped, water filling her lungs. That scared her. Normally, she could breath just fine, the water her home. The clear taste of salt explained it all. She wasn’t in Darkling Lake. Somehow, her sleepwalking led her to the ocean. 

Panic quickly washed over her face and her body began to splash wildly. Teagan’s skin ached, turning red and drying quickly despite being surrounded with water. She was far too panicked to find a way back to shore, not realizing it was only a few feet away. The world nothing but a blur.

Of everything in the world, there was little more beautiful than the moon and stars reflecting on dark ocean water. The constellations that speckled the sky made the waves appear to be shimmering in a way that no artificial aquarium light could ever mimic. The ancient stories of the gods reflected into the water and lived on it much like her daughter’s memory. It was the cephalopods, assorted octopodes, squid, and cuttlefish swimming around her, but in her exploration of this ocean, she saw reminders of Eula in every current and crevice. The loss was still fresh, even after five decades, but she had to trust the fates. She had to hold on to the pride she felt for her daughter. Even if her death came far sooner than Marina ever wanted, Eula placed the waters and creatures she was born to protect above herself, like any good nymph would. Pride however, was no substitute for holding her little girl close, but that was a joy she would never know again. 

The deep hum of the voice from her true form seemed to be like music to the little critters that swam around her as she watched the stars in the night sky, mentally drawing the lines between them. Remembering the stories her mother, aunts, and uncles all told her about each constellation. Remembering how Eula was so fascinated as they were shared with her. Longing was something Marina had grown familiar with, but at least now she could long for what was lost to her from the open waters, free to swim and move about as she wished. 

One of her tentacles had been tracing the pattern of Cassiopeia, her favorite constellation, when she heard thrashing in the water closer to the shore. Satisfaction pulsed through her hearts as Marina swam closer to the shoreline to see the show, that was, until a familiar feeling danced under her skin. The chiming of bells dancing across like the waves that carried her. Another fae. A kindred spirit was far better than a drowning human– which said a lot as there was little she enjoyed more than watching humans being pulled under by the tide. 

Marina put her speed in the ocean water to good use and raced towards the nix who was gasping in the water that burned her lungs. Two of her tentacles wrapped around the fae and lifted her out of the water and brought her to the shore. She set the other nymph down and quickly scanned the area for any potential threat that would have driven the other fae into the ocean despite the effect its water clearly had on her. Once she determined there was no threat present, she turned her attention to the nixie. “Why were you in the ocean,” her deep voice boomed, unintentionally. A form they could both share would be more comfortable for the moment and thankfully other fae rarely seemed to be offput by nudity in the same way humans were. So she put her glamour in place and spoke again, this time in a gentler tone, “It hurts you,” she noted, “Are you well?”  

She was going to die there. In an ocean of all places. It was embarrassing, but Fates, it was a bitter end. The nix had hoped to go out avenging her family, not this. Not drowning. Then, something as smooth as silk and cold wrapped around her. Teagan was placed onto shore far more gently than she anticipated, and she quickly succumbed to a coughing fit. 

The water burned in Teagan’s throat, fire bellowing in her lungs while she attempted to cough out the remnants. Salty bile spilled out of her mouth, relief resting in her chest when she felt the grains of sand stick to her skin. Teagan shook like a leaf, seeing how red her skin was even under the blue hue of moonlight. It would take hours in the lake to soothe her skin, but that didn’t matter. A voice, muffled and worried, was calling to her. 

“What?” The fae swallowed, eyes languid and searching. “How do you know that…”  Teagan felt the thrum underneath her skin, and she whimpered. It was a happy, little thing. Filled with surprise and wonder. Her first nereid in years, and she had saved her. Fates! She was far more blessed than she thought. So many fae in Wicked’s Rest, and Teagan had had the honor of meeting many of them already. But this one? She had to be the most beautiful. 

Leaning forward, Teagan cupped the nereid’s face and connected their foreheads, overcome with gratitude and relief. “You have my gratitude, lass. I don’t know how I got here. I was…I was sleeping.”

There was not much in the way of help Marina could offer the other nymph when it came to sputtering up the salty water. Instinctively, she still wanted to care for the other fae, offer something in the way of comfort. A nymph’s instinct to protect was not something that dwindled no matter how the years tried to chip away at everything she once was. The fact she could not simply take the pain and injury away was a familiar ache. She was just as powerless now as she had been behind the glass, watching the warden’s lackey pierce Eula with iron bolt after iron bolt. Any dream she had always seemed to play her daughter’s pained cries on a loop. 

The nereid was skilled enough with compartmentalization. After all, Marina understood her own pain mattered little in the scheme of things. She knelt down in the sand beside the nixie as she coughed up the remaining water from her lungs. Even with skin marred red from the water that soothed the nereid, the nixie was beautiful. A nymph always was and under the moonlight, the stars were reflected in her eyes much like they would dance across the calm lake on a clear night. A stunning feature that mirrored the very waters the nix was to protect, as the gods intended. There was confusion in those same eyes that quickly turned to realization, which Marina returned with a soft smile. 

When the nixie reached out to her, Marina welcomed the touch. For so long she’d been deprived of it, that she relished in the feeling, leaned into the touch that despite singed hands was still soft as could be. “It was nothing,” she assured gently, “If it had been in your waters, I’m sure you’d have done the same.” Because it was just what fae did, there was a certain loyalty in their shared nature. In the short time since her escape, she’d seen it when the banshee’s screams brought Siobhan to delightedly watch the nereid’s escape and now in this moment where she demonstrated her own show of loyalty to her kind. “I did not see anything out here besides you,” she noted, somewhat perplexed that the nix had ended up here in her sleep, “But we should get you back to your waters so you can begin to heal.” 

Her hand ran through the nixie’s sopping wet hair to shake some of the water out and away from the nymph. It was a simple closeness that Marina had been too busy stewing in rage to truly acknowledge she missed. The nereid blinked slowly and held out a hand to her new companion. “I am Marina,” she spoke, “I am still learning the area, but may I accompany to the lake, river, or stream that you protect?” 

Teagan leaned into the touch, not minding the burn the salt caused on her scalp. As long as she was out of the sea, she was fine. It was a shame, really. The saltwater could kill Teagan, but she couldn’t deny its beauty. Painful as it would be to die by drowning, it would be a gorgeous place to lay eternally. Lucky for the nix though, Fates had granted her the opportunity to relish in the nereid’s presence. Such grace was an honor. She would not dare waste the chance to cherish the nereid. 

“I would have saved you.” She promised, kissing Marina’s cheek. It stung her lips, but what did that matter? Teagan had only known Marina for mere moments, and she knew she was well worth it. Cupping the nereid’s cheek, Teagan nodded absentmindedly, still too tired to start a trek just yet. “Don’t know how far the walk will be. Are you sure you don’t mind?” Teagan looked around to find any landmark she recognized, but there were none. Lights were all but obscured in the distance too. Fates, how far had she walked?

“I live by Darkling Lake, but if I’m by the harbor…” Teagan stumbled to her knees, finally standing to get a better floor at her surroundings. “The Pines are a good twenty minutes by car. Can’t imagine how long it’d take by foot. Do you know of any inns nearby? Maybe we can finagle a deal. People here aren’t the brightest. 

Helping another fae was never something that Marina minded. Loyalty to her kind had been instilled in her from a young age. While she was not yet back at her full strength, she would have endured a trek of any length to see the other nymph to safety. Principal aside, the nix was undoubtedly beautiful, not that she’d ever met a fae who was anything less. The soft kiss on her cheek only made her want to hold on to the other fae tightly and never let go. The Fates were a fickle force, weaving some threads of the universe together and fraying others. Not that she would ever fault them for the cruel moments they delivered. The only person she would fault for that was the liar of a warden who saw to her daughter’s death. This moment was far kinder.

“I would never make an offer I have no intention of following,” Marina assured, still carefully wringing some of the water from the nixie’s hair, “That would be a lie.” Her lips twisted upward into a sly grin. If there was anything in this world she could trust, it was another fae. Lying was something so human. Dishonest words burned in their throat and had far more dire consequences, not that she minded. A lie was a vile thing. A simple belief that Teagan likely shared and at the very least knew lies were something that would never fall from the nereid’s lips. “It would be an honor to ensure your safety, fíltatos,” she answered, not quite able to pull herself away from the nixie’s touch despite the fact she knew it stung Teagan. 

Much of what Teagan had said about directions had gone right over her head. Freedom was still so new to Marina that she hadn’t entirely learned the area yet. “Hm,” she hummed aloud, “I am not too sure truly. I do not know the area well, but a kind banshee helped me figure out the phones and the like.” Her eyes glanced over at the tote back she had taken from the aquarium on her way out. While she detested the establishment, the tote bag did have an assortment of octopodes decorating it. “I believe there are accommodations along the boardwalk. It isn’t terribly far away. We’ll dry you off a bit first. You can wear the dry clothes I have stowed away.” 

Of course Marina would never lie, not even for something as passive as an offer. If she wasn’t so damn irritated with her skin and they had time, Teagan would’ve lingered just a bit longer. Marina seemed as if she yearned for more touch, like she hadn’t had a taste in so long. She was begging for water, and who was Teagan to deny Marina a drink? She’d give her a whole glass if she could. 

“How long has it been?” The nereid knew what her salty skin did to nixies, and she spoke about ensuring Teagan’s safety. That, and Marina couldn’t pull herself away. For as long as she could remember, Teagan was an observant individual. It made her a good hunter. But this time around, it made her a good listener. She could hear Marina’s heart. So, she asked again, “How long has it been, cariad? You know, since you last had kind hands all over you?” Dry clothes could wait. What was a little pain if she could quench Marina’s thirst?

It was easy to drink in the feel of another fae’s touch. Their shared connection thrummed under her skin the way the waves swayed on a clear day, little bells chiming in a rhythm that could so easily lull her into the same sense of calm. Had Marina been a better nymph, she would have pulled away sooner, insisted on getting the nix free of the saltwater that blistered her skin, but she wasn’t and Teagan could see plain as day in the night how the nereid craved closeness. She’d been so far removed from the world for so long, it shouldn’t have come as a surprise that the nix was astute enough to pick up on it. 

For a moment, it was enough for Marina to straighten her posture to prepare them for the trek to the more populated stretch of beach. The instinct to nurture never truly buried away, but the questions that followed made her throat turn sand dry for a moment. She had no doubt that was the intended effect. “Fifty years or so,” she answered, her voice raspy as if it had been her drowning only moments ago, “That matters not, you’re hurt. There is plenty of time for me to know kind hands again.” The gaze she let linger on Teagan left little up to interpretation. There was nothing murky in it, her desire for said kind hands to be Teagan’s was clearer than the waters of the Ionian Sea.

“Come,” Marina urged softly, forcing herself to pull away despite immediately missing the closeness between them, “The tide is getting higher yet.” 

Fifty years? What cruel hand was Marina given to go through such an unkind fate? Yes, Fate always had a reason, but it didn’t make Teagan question any less. Didn’t stop her chest from tightening at the cruelty. Her heart ached unbearably, as if she could be consumed by the pain Marina had gone through, but she couldn’t. The nereid had actually existed in such a state and survived, and all Teagan could do was empathize. All she could do was ignore her pain and the way her skin felt like it was cracking with every movement. 

Why couldn’t they stay there just a little longer? Teagan wanted to mend everything—make it right. But evidently, it wasn’t the right time, and really, she knew she could never fix anything. Not completely. She didn’t have the power to. And even if Teagan did, she knew herself too well. She’d fail just as she always did. 

Still, she wanted to try. 

“Wait.” She stopped Marina gently, grabbing her wrist and pulling herself up. Hands cupped Marina’s cheeks softly, cheekbones and jawline prominent at that distance. Teagan traced down her jaw with her finger and hovered for a moment, giving what she could in a small instant. “Let’s hold hands while we walk.” Fingers intertwined as Teagan kept eye contact. “You said you have dry clothes somewhere? We can switch clothing and then I think we can find a phone on the boardwalk and call a driver, or something. You said you understood phones? Do you have one?”

Some innate part of Marina had always been endeared to other fae. They could understand each other in ways no one else possibly could. Each one had such a specific role in the fabric woven by the fates.The nymphs safeguarding different aspects of nature, the banshees serving the fates themself and honoring the cycle of death, muses inspiring stunning creation– even the small sprites were part of the way of things. The connection she felt to Teagan was no different in that regard, but there was something else too. Despite the differences in their waters, water flowed and moved with wind– it flooded man-made streets and crushed ships with unmatched force. Every bit of Teagan, even with burnt skin from the salt of the ocean, was watery in its own way. It was easy to long to be closer and harder yet to pull away as she helped the nixie up. 

The separation was short-lived and Marina found herself selfishly grateful for it. “Of course, dearest,” she answered, not bothering to hide the relief in her tone. Her fingers laced through Teagan’s and gave her hand a gentle squeeze. If it weren’t for Teagan’s injuries, it would have reminded her of home, walking along the shoreline hand in hand with a fellow fae. “Yes, just up this way,” she pointed toward a rocky area a few yards ahead, “A towel as well, should do a better job of ringing the excess water out of your hair.” 

“I have a phone though I am still getting used to it,” Marina explained, “Don’t be alarmed by some of the stuff on there. It belongs to a human man who was very liberal in his use of the word promise. I have his credit card as well.” Even for the short walk to her tote, it was hard to keep her gaze from looking over toward the nix every so often. She truly was a divine specimen and she was sure her true form was even more so.. She reluctantly let the nymph’s hand go as she grabbed her tote bag and grabbed a flowing, pale-blue dress from the bag and a towel with some odd cartoon woman on it. “Here,” she offered, her eyes warm as she looked over the nix yet again, “The fabric is soft. It almost feels as if you’re nude while still following silly human laws.”

Oh Fates. Marina was becoming more and more fascinating. Much like the nix beside her, she too had acquired a deal with a man. Had a sugar father—or sugar daddy, as Arden so eloquently put. “You beautiful nereid!” Teagan stopped them in their tracks and pulled Marina’s face to hers. It didn’t matter that the leftover salt burned her lips. She needed to show her companion how much she truly adored her antics, that she acknowledged her skill. “I too have a man’s plastic money. Quite daft of him to promise to give me whatever I wanted, wasn’t it?”

Just as reluctantly as Marina, Teagan pulled herself a way, giving the nereid a departing kiss. She made quick, unabashed work of her sleepwear, plucking the dress from Marina. It was a relief to switch into something dry and all around soft. Teagan let out a sigh, looked around the area for the phone Marina mentioned. “If you can hand me the cellphone, I can download this app that sends a driver to your location.” She nabbed the towel and began to dry her hair, stepping toward Marina to stay close. The hum beneath her skin was impossible to resist. Especially with someone so beautiful. “I have an account that has my address and the man’s card. It’ll get us to my house. Fascinating, isn’t it?”

The kiss took Marina by surprise, but just as quickly, she returned it eagerly. The nixie’s lips were soft and the taste of salt water still lingered. It made the nereid long for more, to discover if every inch of her body tasted as sweet as her lips. However, the kiss was short-lived, which was to be expected in Teagan’s condition. “Mm,” she hummed, still taking in the ghost of a feeling of the nixie’s lips still lingering on her own. Once she was properly taken care of, Marina had every intention of getting to know every beautiful inch of the other nymph. “Impressive,” she whispered, “If I were a foolish man, I’d be just as loose with my words for a chance to kiss those perfect lips.” Fortunately, she was not a foolish human and she need not promise anything to the nix for the chance to take in all of her. 

Marina listened intently as the nixie explained the app. It was all still new to her. She’d heard about all of these things in conversations she listened to from her tank, but hadn’t experienced them. Even prior to her time as a fixture of some traveling show, her time spent in the human world had been minimal and usually limited to outings with a few faun friends she had made over the years. “It is fascinating,” she agreed, “You seem to have a good grip on all of this. I’ve only really observed, it’s hard to put it all to practice. Perhaps you could show me a thing or two.” The mischievous look in her eyes indicated she was playing with several meanings, which seemed to match the easy way the nix could make near anything sound flirtatious. 

Once she had slipped the clothes on, Marina took Teagan’s hand again and gave the phone to her. Perhaps she should have been paying more attention to what the other nymph was doing on the phone, but she was more taken with the way the light from the screen illuminated across Teagan’s skin. Truly a stunning nymph, but then again, was there even such a thing as a nymph who didn’t look like they were painted by the gods themself? “I think we’re ready to get out of here then. Get you into some freshwater and get to know more of each other.” 

Pink dusted over Teagan’s cheeks, and she could’ve sworn she heard a ringing. As if her mind was malfunctioning at Marina’s choice of words. When was the last time someone made her stutter or made her face go flush with such forward phrasing? Had it ever happened at all? Teagan didn’t mind, not really. There was a kind of vulnerability one had to let themself be to receive such attention so easily. If there was anything the nix wasn’t, it was vulnerable, but for Marina? For a nymph? Teagan would let go of her inhibitions and let the nereid have her way—to a degree. After all, she preferred the way women looked beneath her. 

“I’ll show you a thing or two,” Teagan began, connecting both of their foreheads together. “And then you’ll show me a thing or two. We’ve got all night, and then the next day.” Her lips hovered closer to Marina’s, a smile tugging her cheeks up while a chuckle tumbled past her lips. “I’ll make sure the driver rushes us to my home, too.” She licked her lips. “I can’t wait to get to know more of you.”

A wicked smirk tugged at the corner of her lips. In her years before the tank, Marina had taken a good number of lovers as was normal in her aos si, but something about another nymph was always just a little sweeter. The shared connection to a part of nature, the thrumming of bells pulsing through her– it was a sweet piece of the heavens that only a nymph could know. The short distance between them felt as vast as the ocean itself. If Teagan hadn’t been hurt by the salt in her water, she was certain she wouldn’t have waited for the ride to somewhere more “suitable”. 

“I look forward to it,” Marina whispered, not bothering to hide the shakiness in her own breath. Her teeth tugged at her own lower lip as she gathered herself and the small ounce of self-control she possessed in that moment. “I’m sure no human driver could tell you no. I know I certainly could not.” 

And she meant it. It was more than years of deprivation of touch and conversation that pulled her to the nix. They shared a nature and something in Marina told her that perhaps they shared a grief, too. The nix had been asleep before ending up in the ocean, not that she would push. The tide brought Teagan to her and that was a thread of the fates she would hold onto tightly. 

[jardaddy-a]

NOVEMBER 28TH - DECEMBER 4TH .     THE GRAND ANNIVERSARY OF NATURA 

    November 28th is a sacred date for all 13 sanctuaries of Natura since it marks the birth of the Elder Goddess :   Wisteria , as well as it is the creation date of the thirteen sanctuaries .     The thirteen sanctuaries hold a week-long event at the beginning of the 28th , all members deem the anniversary as their birthdate than the actual dates of their birth considering Natura is where they received a fresh new start .      Two events are held each day , each event is held in one of the thirteen sanctuaries as the seven days seek to honor each one properly .     While outsider guests aren’t required to attend through all 13 + 1 events  ,   the Natura members will attend each and every single one to support each other . 

November 28th: MORNING .   The Zephyr Races ( Le Ciel )  ━ Held on the morning of the 28th , Laniaturian pilots from all over the world gather with their aircrafts to race for the golden wreath .      The winner of the races will receive the blessing of both Atmos and Wisteria , the event normally ends with light rain .       Guests and attendees are encouraged to bathe in the rains as it is blessed by Existence to bring luck and good health for the next year .      The rains end by noon so guests can prepare for the upcoming ball .  

EVENING .   Ball of Concealment ( La Desolee )  ━ A grand masquerade ball celebrating the birthdate of Wisteria , the ball is held at 6pm of La Desolee , and guests normally spend the night in the Chateau le Tonnerre .      A grand banquet will be held before the dances ,  All guests are required to wear masks .        Within the masquerade  ,  guests are encouraged to remain anonymous and connect with strangers with obscure backgrounds and lives ,   the guests will not refer to each other in the titles of their social status and must comply to equality in respect and position , there are no servants present ,   so you must serve yourself .          This rule originates to Wisteria’s role as judge  ,   it does not matter how high your status is or whether or not you are a God or a servant  ,  because to her  ,   all mortal riches and statuses do not matter once you’re being judged for your sins .        Take it as a humbling experience .       You will be treated well , but you will not receive special treatment .  

November 29th: MORNING .   The Circus of Delights ( Le Carnaval )  ━ This special circus is held within a vast airship containing rides  ,   snacks and candy venues ,   and the grand stage where the performance will be held .     The event contains with numerous acrobatic feats   ,  aerial silks  ,  animal taming  ,   risk-filled daredevil tricks  ,    and magical performances .      A few guests would be selected to come on stage to assist with the show  (  with a 10% chance of losing a limb !  )  .    The circus show finishes with Confetti’s signature fireworks display .  

EVENING .   The Moon Lantern Festival ( La Mer )  ━ A small festival held by the piers of La Mer .     On the evening where the moon is full and the tides are high ,  bioluminescent fish fester the shores of the oceans ,   allowing guests to view the dazzling display .     The glowing ,  underwater sanctuary can be seen from the surface of the seas .      At midnight  ,  the lingering guests send a fleet of moonstone lanterns flowing across the sea to honor the Goddess Existence .   

November 30th: MORNING .   The Clocktower Exhibitions ( L’Energie ) ━ The Clock Tower Exhibitions of L’Energie is supposed to be the Laniaturian equivalent to the Crystal Palace Exhbitions .      Laniaturian inventors and scholars gather from all over the world to display and / or sell their crafts and creations .       Guests can peruse through the exhibits , test , and marvel the different laniaturian technology and machinery .     The exhibitions tend to last throughout the entire week of the event . 

EVENING .     The Spirit Picnics ( L’Hopital )  ━ The vast rose fields of L’Hopital are open as picnic grounds .      Large picnic blankets are scattered around the venue ,  baskets filled with food are prepared .      The picnic meals are meant to be shared between family and friends while they admire the quiet evening surrounded by yellow roses and a star-filled sky .     These grounds are visited by spirits who died of illnesses , Laniaturas tend to converse and dine with these spirits to cure them of their loneliness .     It said that some of these spirits bring gifts and blessings in exchange for good company .  

December 1st: MORNING .   The Cave of Embers ( Le Zoo )  ━ The Cave of Embers is a test of courage of those who want a little taste of risk and adventure .    Older participants ages 18 and above are allowed to enter the cave of embers and are allowed to come in groups of 5 maximum , it works as a some sort of perilous escape room where you deal with cavernous puzzles and perilous beasts and creatures .     You are given a weapon of your choice and you trek through the dangerous caverns .     Guests who enter experience a different layout of the map , so not every experience is similar .     The quickest to escape the caverns by the end of the day receives a reward .       Younger guests and cowards can choose to participate in the Sapphire Monarch Hunt , where Zooion will release a migrating flight of monarch butterflies , a rare sapphire butterfly hidden among them .     Guests must search around the sanctuary forests for the sapphire butterfly to receive a reward .  

EVENING .   Heaven’s Waterfall  ( La Serre )  ━ A water festival that signifies rebirth and rejuvenation , guests are free to roam around and swim in the numerous waterfall venues around La Serre .      A swimming competition is held by the largest waterfalls of the sanctuary and invites the most daring of swimmers .      It is said that whoever wins the competition is given the chance to communicate with the spirit a passed relative or loved one .   

December 2nd: MORNING .  The Gallery of Glory  ( Le Musee )  ━ An art exhibit showcasing former relics and artworks crafted by late Laniaturian heroes and relaying the history of the Laniaturians and the late Ancient Heroes .     This is the only time of the year where the relics of 4 out of 5 of the main ancient ones will be displayed .      After the museum display , guests will be directed to an open area if they wish to participate in the paintball war .     They will be equiped with paintball guns ,  paint ball colors of their preference  ,   and safety gear .     Any participants fully drenched in paint will be disqualified from the paint area ,  the last participant remaining at noon will be given an award . 

EVENING .   Symphonie D'étoiles ( L’Orchestre )  ━ The Symphony of Stars is an orchestral and musical event that takes place in the rooftop theater of L’Orchestre ,  it is a musical competition amongst different Laniaturas all over the world who get to perform instrumentals , songs , and bands .     The members of L’Orchestre will judge the competition , and after the winners have been announced and awarded , the members of L’Orchestre will close the event by performing a mashup of songs and symphonies beneath a meteor shower .    The final performance by L’Orchestre is said to grant healing properties for sickly mortals , this is in collaboration with L’Hopital .

December 3rd: MORNING .  The Gilded Hunt  ( La Foret )  ━ A treasure hunt inspired the Celare sanctuary of El Dorado .    This competition is held in the vast forests of La Foret ,  visitors and guests are allowed in groups of give and given maps .     They are encouraged to trek through vast forests and solve a number of puzzles to find a hidden cavern filled with gold .     Whoever finds the cavern first gets to keep the treasure hidden within .   Guests are normally encouraged to study and learn sun-related myths before participating . 

EVENING .   The System Planetarium ( La Constella )  ━ An event held at the temples of La Constella where one temples of the sanctuary will detatch from the main station and visit each planet of the solar system  ,   giving guests the experience to view them up close .    Guests can sightsee and stargaze during this four-hour cruise around space before it docks back to the main sanctum .  

December 4th:  MORNING .    Parade Les Fleurs ( Le Jardin )  ━ A flower festival containing numerous game and food booths .  As well as a float parade that will stroll through the streets of Le Jardin City ,  it is a flower float-making competition where Laniaturas compete for the most eye-striking display .    The winner will be chosen by the Five Origo members of Jardin: Marigold , Myosotis , Magnolia , Rosered , and Jonquil .   ( Rumors said that you receive extra points from Magnolia through chocolate bribery )    After the parade ,  a herd of Cerf Fleur will distribute flower crowns to the visitors . 

EVENING .   The Dances of Caltha ( Held in the Pavilion of Natura )   ━ The final event that marks the final day of Natura’s Anniversary , all guests are gathered in the grand Pavilion of Natura , the one location connecting the 13 sanctuaries as they hold the Traditional Laniaturian dances to honor the late Maria Caltha , the Great Magician .      A shrine is created in honor of her , and the shrine serves as the foundation where the three circles of dance skills will dance around .      The innermost circle will be the competitive circle , and whoever remains the last one standing will be granted one wish from the Gods .      This holds the end of the festival  , and the thirteen sanctuaries will be closed off from guests and visitors for three days to rest . 

[sunnybunnyy2]

1+1=?

Pairings: Ward x Fem!reader (not romantic)

Word Count: 1.5K

Summary: Y/N Y/L/N a poor, straight A student from the cut, that is need for extra cash. Rafe Cameron a privileged Kook that just happens to be in need of some extra knowledge…

Warnings: Ward Cameron, probably bad grammar and bad writing

Authors note: Heyy, this is my first Rafe Cameron oneshot or story. I may make a part two I’ll link it if I do or it will be in my master list. Also thank you all for supporting my account it means a lot, and please request<3

Part 2

It was another sunny day in the island that is, The Outerbanks.

The sun was held high, the roosters crowing, waves high as they crashed against the shore harshly as more waves continued to take their place.

Wind howling lightly, the morning chill slowly seeping away, clearing the air of its frosty essence. The warm summer air finally making its appearance after many hours of it being stripped away from the sight of those who watched the sky.

Chatter was heard around Outerbanks, but it was loudest on the cut as people of all ages made there're way to their jobs, on the cut children as young as seven were but at work to help support their families. No one got a pass unless you were fortunate enough to be born with money, but for many that was not the case.

The Kooks side of the island, was however quiet and slightly grim, as most of their parents had gone to work hours before their children could even awaken, their children could sleep the day away as they had no responsibilities on a week day like this.

They Kooks didn't have to lift a finger in their lifetime and their parents would still be proud, they could get a D on a test and they would get a party thrown for them but if you were on the cut and get an A it would be a small smile from your parents if they even acknowledged you and in some cases it was better if you were ignored by your parents then beaten which was a reality that most of the kids on the cut had to face on a daily basis.

The Kook kids had it easy and they didn't even know the half of it.

The Y/L/N house was quiet, both of your parents had already headed off it work leaving you to sleep peacefully upstairs in your squishy but lumpy bed, still in a dreamily state as you continued to dream about what life could have been.

The only noise that filled the home was the obnoxious and continuous sound of the alarm clock that had yet to be turned off.

As you couldn't afford an actually alarm clock, so you had to settle for your phone.

You rolled over in bed, the loud noise becoming to ear wrenching for you to handle. You slammed your hand down swiftly and quickly wanting it to stop as quickly as possible.

Your hand held a sharp sting by how hard you had hit your hand on your phone, you let out a groan and not just from the ache of your half asleep hand but that your day was starting out perfectly. -sarcasm of course-

You all but rolled out of bed which resulted in you landing on your hands and knees as you came in contact with the hard, cold and carpet less floor.

———————————

You walked into the library an hour later then you had originally planned to as you had a horrible morning.

When you had fully awakened you had headed to the shower to wash the sweat that had gathered on your body as you slept, wrapped in your thin but warm blankets, but when you had arrived to the small bathroom you had soon realized that there was no more hot water as your parents must have used it all when they were getting ready for their daily tasks.

After you had to shower with cold water, you then went downstairs for a snack to tide you over until dinner, only to find that there was nothing other then spoiled milk, a rotten banana and a year old box of cereal. Deciding that you would settle for a cup of coffee, but you couldn't take it as you normally would as you had no sugar and the milk was spoiled.

As you poured yourself a cup of black plain coffee. As you tried to sip it, a loud bang came from the television that was placed in the living room causing you to jump as you had forgot you had turned it on when your coffee was on, causing it spill all over your shirt and slowly run down the valley of your chest.

After you had changed your dirty shirt with your last clean one you were out the door, not wanting to take any chances with the luck you were having today. Only to realize that your parents had taken the car today even though they said they didn't need it. That was the tip of the iceberg you were gonna snap.

After having to walk all the way to the North side of the island. After almost being hit by a very expensive car, nearly tripping on the sidewalk, stepping on rocks every thirty seconds, getting catcalled and getting in a yelling match with an old lady who had clearly fell on the wrong hip, you had finally arrived at the public library.

As you walked into the large facility, you let out a breath you didn't know you were holding as you finally arrived at the one place you could actually have privacy, and catch up on your math homework, that you desperately needed to do before, your grade dropped to a B which your parents would not allow.

As you dragged your body up the stairs to get to the studying area of the large and wide library, you caught sight of a familiar but out of place face.

Ward Cameron.

He held his head high as he surveyed the building from the chair he was occupying, as his hands rested on the armrests of the well cushioned he was planted on, the chair sinking in by his weight being pushed against it.

He held an unreadable expression on his face, he almost looked... nervous?

You turned your eyes away from the older man, before resuming your walk to the other side of the library.

When you finally made it to your destination you plopped down with a loud and relived sign, finally relaxing for the first time that morning.

That euphoric feeling was short lived as you heard a deep voice calling your name.

You rolled your eyes thinking that it was some teenage kook trying to mess with the 'Pogue girl' you turned in your seat, your body now facing the voice as it came closer to you, an annoyed look taking over your face but it vanished as soon as it came as soon as you saw who it was.

"Hey, Mr. Cameron.. sir. It's a pleasure. " You started with a shaky voice, unsure what to say as you had never really had a real conversation with the Ward Cameron.

"Ms. Y/L/N. The pleasure is all mine, and please call me Ward. I actually having meaning to talk to you for a while now. Do you have time? It will be quick."

To nervous to speak you only nodded weakly, slightly upset with yourself for letting your nervousness show, as in the past you had been able to hide it.

He smiled slightly like he was happy he had got that reaction out of you as if he was proud he had been able to make you scared of him. "I have a proposition, for you. I need you to tutor my son, Rafe." He stopped as if he was waiting for me to add my opinion. But when he only got a plain look from you he continued. "He just recently, went back to college and he needs a little shove to get back up to where the rest of his classmates are. And I think you will be the one to help him, your a very smart kid and I know you do tutoring for extra money."

"Okay why do you think that I would help you? Rafe has done nothing but terrorize anyone and everyone that lives on the cut."

"I get that. I'll triple what you normal charge. 50 dollars an hour?"

Your eyes widened and the large amount he had listed you normal only charged 6 dollars an hour for the Pogues you would tutor but for Kooks you would normal charge 15 dollars for them because why not.

You have never been offered that much money ever, and just for sharing your knowledge.

"Yes." Was all you said your eyes still wide.

"Really?" He asked shocked that you would answer so quickly.

"Yes." You said again, in the same tone.

"Okay, great. When can you start?" He said with a proud look on his face.

"Now. Um.. I mean Monday? After school?" You asked finally getting yourself out of your shocked daze.

"That sounds wonderful. Thank you for you time, Y/N." he said with a smile before giving you a quick nod before making his way out of the library.

You sat there confused yet surprised by what had just occurred just seconds ago.

You slowly shook your head before turning your body and head back to the table, before looking out the large window that was right in front of you your own reflection staring back at you leaving you thinking, What did I get myself into?

————————————

[delimeful]

neither calm nor quiet

BTHB: Trapped In A Net

warnings: miscommunication, past familial and domestic abuse mentions, injury, violence, terrible decision making skills

-

When Virgil finally decided to brave shallower waters, it had already been nearly half a moon cycle since Logan had vanished.

He’d made excuses at first, telling himself that the dread he felt was just his normal brand of overwrought paranoia. For the first few days, he was half-convinced that his curiosity-prone friend would appear at any moment, probably lugging some sort of stray litter or ‘interesting human artifact’ along with him to explain why he’d been late.

Things would be normal again. Virgil would find some rocks for them to sun on and Logan would ramble on about the potential uses of his find, and maybe Virgil would teasingly suggest some outlandish way the trash was secretly a violent human weapon, just to hear Logan thoroughly refute it.

After another three days passed with no sign of the other selkie, Virgil was forced to let that fantasy fade. Logan had never been this late before, not even that time he’d managed to carry an entire minifridge along with him for Virgil to identify.

Something had to have happened to him.

He’d spent the next week scouring the currents for any sign of his missing friend, even approaching other pods and asking around, requesting that they keep an eye out for any signs of Logan. He didn’t expect much from that; the two of them didn’t socialize with other selkies often enough to make any friends, and their two-person pod was too small to spare any food during winter, so there was nothing for the other pods to gain by helping them.

Virgil knew better than most how selfish pod politics could be.

Every few days, he would return to their meeting spot and catch a few hours of sleep to keep himself from crashing, always naively hoping that Logan would be there when he woke. He never was.

In the end, he had to face what he’d already known from the beginning: either Logan was dead, or he’d gone onland and gotten himself bound by a human.

He didn’t want to believe Logan had decided to brave the human world even after Virgil’s many, many warnings against it, but believing the alternative was even worse. So, he steeled himself to do the one thing he’d sworn to never do again, and headed for the cold, rocky shores of the nearest human settlement.

Naturally, he spent so long swimming back and forth between different stretches of beach, trying to force himself to take those literal first steps, that he didn’t notice the woven fibers dancing in the water until he’d plowed right into them.

A fishing net, dyed skillfully to blend in with the water, and large enough that when he tried to twist out of it, he only became further entangled.

Panic set in, then, clouding his mind and leaving him thrashing ineffectively like a simple animal. He couldn’t help it-- he couldn’t breathe underwater in either form, had no gills to keep him steady as he was dragged along by the current. He couldn’t untangle himself while adrift, couldn’t find solid ground while tangled. He would drown.

Between one blink and the next, he found himself in open air, gritty sand pressed against his face. Waves crested gently around him, a sharp contrast to the headache pounding around in his skull.

He never thought he’d be relieved about blacking out and beaching himself, but then, he’d never been worried about drowning in his own element before.

Okay. There weren’t any humans around to see the stupid idiot seal stuck on the beach. This was still salvageable.

Taking a deep breath, he attempted to bite through the netting with his incisors, and got a mouthful of sore gums for his trouble. The dyed fibers seemed to be woven around a base net of fishing wire, because of course they were. He let his head thunk back to the sandy ground, groaning at the new surge of pain the motion caused.

Sun-warmed saltwater continued to wash over his tail, and he blinked slowly, measuring his breaths. He could figure this out. He wouldn’t dry out. He just needed a moment to put himself back together. He could… He…

His eyelids grew heavy, and everything went dark.

-

Roman thought the guy was a pile of garbage at first, to be quite honest.

Not on purpose, of course! But, come on, when one sees a mound of mystery washed up on shore, it generally ends up being a bunch of tangled old fishing nets wrapped around half-rotted driftwood, not a bunch of tangled old fishing nets wrapped around beautiful strangers wearing expensive-looking fur coats!

His next thought, once he’d gotten closer, was that the beautiful stranger wearing the expensive-looking fur coat was dead, and that a body had washed up on his little strip of shoreline. Pallid skin, blue lips, and deep shadows under their eyes-- the beautiful stranger wasn’t exactly giving off an aura of vim and vigor.

He’d spent a few moments staring at his contact list, trying to figure out what in the world he was supposed to do about a body. Should he call 911? … Should he call Remus?

Before he could make a decision either way, he finally picked up on the shallow rise and fall of the beautiful stranger’s chest, and realized that they were still alive! Potentially not for much longer, laying out in the cold all soggy like that, but Roman could work with mostly alive!

And so, he found himself here, carefully carrying the small but surprisingly dense stranger up to his home by the cliffs, and risking looking like a total serial killer doing it.

He couldn’t help but theorize as he walked. A beautiful stranger in expensive clothing, tangled in nets with what appeared to be a head wound… It read like an old unsolved case in a detective novel, where the mysterious stranger in question got in too deep with some dangerous people and ended up clubbed over the head and dumped into a river to tie up loose ends.

“Except you managed to survive, obviously,” Roman said to them, mostly to reassure himself. He really had to stop eavesdropping on Remus’s true crime podcasts. “And you made your way to me! Excellent choice, I’m great at nursing people back to health. Probably. I don’t have much practical experience, but, you know, I’ve read extensively about this exact thing. In romance novels. As one does.”

The beautiful and mysterious stranger continued to be unconscious. Roman was starting to feel grateful for it.

His house was empty, thankfully, since his brother had work to attend to today. He fumbled with the keys for a moment before pushing the door open and carrying the stranger inside, sighing with relief at the warm air.

“That’s got to feel much better, hm?”

He sat the stranger down in the foyer, removing his shoes to go grab some scissors from the kitchen.

“First order of business,” he announced in his best announcer voice, “getting all that netting off of you. While I’m sure you could rock fishnet leggings, fish nets on their own just don’t have the same je ne sais quoi, you know? Also, they look very uncomfortable. You’re great at staying still, so just keep that up.”

He carefully cut his way through the looser parts of netting, pulling it off piece by piece until all that was left were the abrasions where they’d formerly cut into skin. Roman had no idea how they’d even managed to get that tangled up, and he wasn’t sure he wanted to know. It couldn’t have been pretty.

In the process of removing the net, however, he’d noticed another rather pressing matter.

Going by the flash of thigh he’d accidentally witnessed while shifting the net around, the stranger definitely wasn't wearing anything under that fur coat of theirs. Like, nothing.

(Exactly what kind of situation had the stranger been in before this?!)

Even so, leaving them in a sodden coat couldn’t be good for their constitution. Or his poor couch’s upholstery.

Roman spent a few moments puzzling the situation out before coming up with a brilliant solution. He retrieved the fluffy gold comforter from his bed and draped it over the stranger, covering their front half with it. Then, he carefully worked their arms out of the coat’s sleeves, very pointedly not focusing on the adorable freckled shoulders this operation revealed. Finally, he tugged the entire coat out from behind them, wincing at the slight furrow that appeared in their brow.

“Sorry, sorry, I know the cold floor can’t be comfortable…”

Soggy coat removed, he was free to continue bundling the rest of the comforter around the stranger’s back, therefore making it easy for him to pick them up in a neat little bundle of blanket and deposit them on the couch. No nudity awkwardness required!

Pleased with his solution, he draped a fluffy towel over the stranger’s head and carefully dried some of the dampness from their hair. Next, he wasted no time in stoking the fire higher in his hearth, sending waves of warmth into the room and making it so the stranger’s skin didn’t look quite so clammy.

Once he’d cleaned up the mess left in the foyer and grabbed the first aid kit from under his sink, he planted himself in a chair next to the couch, feeling ready to handle anything.

“Okay, Google. How do I treat a head wound?”

-

Virgil felt as though he’d woken to a nightmare.

He was in the wrong body, surrounded on all sides by heavy fabric and warm air, and his coat was missing. That list of facts alone was just about as bad as any night terror he’d had.

The humming was unusual, though.

A soft tune, occasionally broken up by a half-muttered lyric or two, carried through the air, voice completely at ease. His mother had never sung to him in front of others, and it sure as hell wasn’t his father.

He tried to remember where he’d been last. The back of his head stung… he’d ended up on a beach? The tide had been turning, from high to low… He must have dried out up there, changed into his less durable form. And now he was warm and dry.

He clenched his fists weakly and grit his teeth, knowing that a human had found him and stolen him away. Just like his mother. He’d come to find Logan and lost himself before ever even starting. Typical.

“Are you with us, Sleeping Beauty?” a bright voice asked.

The humming had broken off while he was absorbed in his thoughts, and now he could hear the shift and rustle of movement next to him. He opened his eyes, already aiming the coldest possible glare at his captor.

He was sort of surprised to find that the human sitting at his side wasn’t holding his coat. His father used to make a point of handling his mother’s coat at any opportunity. He’d liked to watch his mother stare at it, resting assured that so long as he held it in his possession, she could do him no harm.

This human was much younger than his father had been, probably around as old as Virgil was now. He had dark skin and soft eyes that reflected the firelight, and he was smiling hopefully at Virgil.

“Hello there! It’s excellent to see you looking a little more lively! I was starting to think about actually calling the hospital, heh.”

Wordlessly, Virgil slowly shifted to sit up, shoving the thick blanket out and shaking the cloth from his head. He looked down, confirming what he already knew. No coat. The human hadn’t even bothered to dress him up in human trappings to ‘make up’ for the absence.

“Ah, yeah... I sort of basically pulled you out of the ocean and what little you were wearing was completely soaked.” The human rubbed the back of his head sheepishly. “I figured it’d be less of an invasion of privacy to just let you get dressed yourself once you woke up?”

Oh, the human was worried about his privacy? What a joke.

“I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable, truly!” the human continued, oblivious to Virgil’s rising ire. He gave a mocking little bow, pretending to respect the one he’d abducted. “My sincerest apologies.”

He was done playing along with mind games like these. Better to let the human know where they stood right off the bat.

“I’m going to kill you,” Virgil promised, and then lunged for the human’s jugular.

To his genuine surprise, he actually made contact, hands clamping onto the junction between collar and throat. The human let out a high-pitched yelp as his chair toppled over, taking both of them with it.

Virgil landed knee-first on the human’s sternum, and paused to blink down at the wheezing stranger, who apparently had been so confident in the weakness of his victim that he hadn’t bothered to bind Virgil from harming him in advance.

Unless.

His grip loosened slightly, just in time for the human’s fist to catch him squarely in the mouth. He threw himself backwards, rolling with the force of the motion to get some distance and hunkering in a crouch. It had been too long since he’d been active in this form, his sense of balance was in shambles.

The human scrambled to his feet, and grabbed the back of the chair, eyes wild. He thrust it out between them like a barrier, as though it could prevent any more strangulation attempts.

“What is wrong with you?!” he shrieked, voice cracking as his gaze flickered back and forth between Virgil and some far off point. “I tenderly nursed you back to health, and your response is to try and murder me? Unfair! Cruel! Rude!”

“Where is my coat?” Virgil replied, voice hoarse and split lip stinging. A test, because humans were tricky and loved to lie.

“Your— your coat?” The human pulled up short, head tilting slightly in a bewildered manner. A convincing actor, if nothing else. “Is that what all this is about? I put it on the coat hanger to dry! I know better than to try and wash someone’s fancy fur coat without permission, yeesh.”

A low warning growl in the back of his throat, Virgil turned his gaze from the current threat and followed the gesture the human had made.

Sure enough, there it was. His freedom, draped on a peg in the open with all the rest of the human’s fabric outer layers like some common garment.

“Do you… want me to get it— eep!” The human lifted the chair back up in paltry defense as Virgil snarled at him. He rose up and crossed the distance to his pelt in five wobbly strides, before the human could try and return it to him and lock them both into a loveless marriage.

Some of the tension eased from his shoulders as he quickly wrapped his second skin around him, that grounding weight settling back where it belonged. He still couldn’t shift back, not here, but the ocean was close enough to taste in the air.

The human was still huddled defensively by the fireplace, looking indignantly bewildered and not at all like he knew he’d just given up the perfect opportunity to control Virgil.

Which meant that-- barring some incredibly convoluted scheme-- he really had no idea. And Virgil had tried to strangle him, even if under false pretenses. He drew the edges of his pelt closer around him, rolling the beginnings of an apology around in his mind.

-

The mysterious stranger was still glaring at Roman like they were contemplating continuing to try and strangle him to death at any moment.

He’d brought a half-drowned stranger into his home and tenderly treated their injuries, and what had he received in return for his efforts? A murder attempt, which now that he thought about it was maybe an outcome he should have considered earlier. Remus would never let him live this down.

Assuming he lived long enough for his brother to give him shit about it, that was.

The stranger seemed to at least be a little calmer now that their reclaimed coat was thoroughly wrapped around them, rendering them more lump-shaped than person. Roman felt much more secure in glaring back, too.

He set his impromptu shield/chair down firmly on the floor. “I have no idea what your problem is, Gloomy B. Jones, but where I’m from, the response to someone saving you from dying of hypothermia is ‘thank you’, not a strangulation attempt!”

The murderglare intensified. “I didn’t ask for your help.”

“Yes,” Roman said, disbelieving, “because you were too busy being unconscious. On the beach. In 40-below temperatures!”

“That’s my problem, not yours,” the stranger responded snappishly.

Roman threw his hands in the air, but his impending frustrated rant was impeded by the sight of a stifled flinch running through the stranger. Feeling a stab of guilt, he lowered his arms slowly before continuing.

“It seems I made it my problem when I dragged your soggy self all the way to my house, so--”

“Great news for you, then: I’m leaving.” Baring their teeth in a distinctly unfriendly manner, the stranger turned to do just that.

“Hold it!” Roman called, alarmed. “You’re going into town like that?! People will think you’re a flasher!” Even his brother wouldn’t go out dressed in nothing but an oversized coat. ... Probably.

The stranger paused, squinting at him warily. Roman took it as a cue to continue.

“Look, clearly we got off on the wrong foot here. Several wrong feet. Let’s try again. I’m Roman Faroe, I work for the local newspaper, and you are…?”

“None of your business,” replied the stranger, with all the stubborn petulance of a toddler digging their heels in and refusing to move whilst smack dab in the middle of an overcrowded supermarket.

“Would you like me to call you ‘Almost-Corpse-I-Dragged-Off-The-Beach?’ Perhaps make up a thematic nickname or two for you? Because let me tell you, this is exactly how you get called--,”

“Hold on,” the stranger cut him off, a realization seeming to dawn on him, “did you say you worked for the news?”

“Yes, I mean, the newspaper not the news. Although I’m sure I’d make an excellent anchor,” Roman gestured to all of himself for effect, “my true passion lies in my carefully curated romantic advice column!”

“So, you get all the information in town,” continued the stranger, who had a strange glint in their eye.

“I mean, if you want to be a nerd about it.”

“How about this.” The stranger stepped forward, straightening out of their defensive slouch for the explicit purpose of being just tall enough to loom over Roman. “You want to know my name? I’ll tell you, if you help me track down something important that I lost.”

An investigative quest for a mysterious MacGuffin? Roman swallowed, feeling his heart flutter wildly with what felt less like intimidation and more like excitement. He could totally keep his cool, he just had to open his mouth and say something suave.

“I also want to know your origin story,” he opened his mouth and babbled instead.

The stranger narrowed their eyes for a moment, and Roman belatedly remembered the near-strangulation. Perhaps he shouldn't be agitating a femme fatale type, what with all the emphasis on the fatale.

To his surprise, it only took a moment before they capitulated, sticking a hand out. “Fine. After my thing gets done.”

Roman shook gladly, trying not to shiver at the cool touch. Had they checked to make sure the stranger wasn’t hypothermic yet? “It’s a deal, then.”

“Great.” They twisted on their heel, stalking to the door. “Let’s get this over with, already.”

“Hold on there, Surly Temple.” Roman called, hand on his hip. “I hate to break it to you, but if you go into town mostly naked, the only news we’ll be hearing about will be your immediate arrest.”

The stranger glanced down at his attire, and then released the door handle with a low sigh. “... Pants first?”

“Pants first.”

[mikauzoran]

Adrigami: Ocean (One-Shot)

@bootsssss requested Adrigami

Summary: On day two of the combined Agreste, Tsurugi, Bourgeois, and Graham de Vanily family vacation from hell, Kagami helps Adrien get some enjoyment out of their trip to the beach.

Read it on AO3: Adrigami: Ocean

It was the second day of the combined Tsurugi, Agreste, Bourgeois, and Graham de Vanily family vacation from hell, and no one was having a good time.

Well. Almost no one.

André and Zoé were caught up in trying to appease Audrey and Chloé as the latter two hurled abuse and dissatisfaction left and right.

Tomoe remained as stoic as ever as she sipped tea with an impassive Gabriel on the patio of their rented beachfront home for the week.

Neither looked to be in a worse mood than normal, but they certainly didn’t seem like they were having a pleasant holiday either.

Kagami didn’t care much for all the sand, but the views were nice, and she was getting in some quality sketching time. Still, the company left a great deal to be desired, and Kagami would have rather been back in Paris where she could at least retreat when other people got to be too much to bear.

Adrien didn’t appear to be enjoying himself either between having to deal with Chloé’s demands on his attention, his father’s persistent lack of time for him (despite the fact that Gabriel should have been freed from most work obligations), and the pitiful, longing glances Adrien cast at Amélie and Félix.

Those two were the exception to the diffuse cloud of misery that was hanging over the rest of the party. Despite the horrendous company, Amélie and Félix seemed to unflappably be having a decent time.

They strolled along the beach, collected shells, built sandcastles, kicked up the tide at one another, played volleyball, and soaked up the sun in turns. They didn’t let the drama of the rest of their number affect them.

“…Why don’t you go join them?” Kagami inquired as she took a seat on the beach towels beside Adrien.

He broke his gaze away from where Félix and Amélie were gathering shells and holding them up to one another’s ears. “Hm? Sorry. What?”

Kagami got out her sketchpad and began to draw the curved rock formation a ways off from the shore. “Why don’t you go join your aunt and your cousin? They look like they’re having fun. You should go have fun too. You are on holiday, are you not?”

Adrien winced, pulling his knees into his chest and getting sand on the blanket.

He pointed up at the large beach umbrella shading him from the sun’s rays.

“I have to stay in the shade,” he muttered miserably. “I can’t get sunburned because there’s a photoshoot scheduled for right after we get back.”

Kagami blew out a snort. “So, your father brought you here to torment you with more things you can’t have?”

Adrien’s gaze dropped to his knees. “I don’t know. Maybe.”

“Can’t you just put on sunscreen?”

She had a feeling he was going to say no because his father was almost as strict as her own mother, but she thought she’d go ahead and raise the argument anyway.

Adrien just shook his head. “Even if that were good enough for Father, I still couldn’t go out there with Aunt Amélie and Félix.”

“Oh?” Kagami glanced up from her drawing to sneak a peek at his forlorn expression.

Adrien blew out a sigh. “I’d be intruding.”

She arched an eyebrow. “Intruding?”

“On their family vacation.”

Her eyebrow rose ever higher. “Are you not family?”

He shook his head. “Not in any way that counts. To them, they’re the only ones in the world who matter. I’m as good as an outsider.”

“I see,” Kagami whispered, adding a little shading to shape the cragginess of the rock face in her drawing. “…Were you and your mother like that?”

Adrien blew out a lead-laced sigh. “Exactly. That’s part of why it hurts so much to watch them and see what I’m missing out on.”

Absentmindedly, he looked back to the house where his father had his nose buried in a tablet, too busy to give Adrien the time of day.

“Well. It sounds like we need to take matters into our own hands, then,” Kagami announced, setting aside her sketchbook and getting to her feet.

Adrien tipped his head to the side as he watched her take hold of the large umbrella and pry it up out of the sand. “Kagami, what are you doing?”

“Making the shade mobile,” she informed, taking the umbrella and starting to make her way down to the water. “Come.”

“Whoa. Hey. What are you doing?” he demanded once more as he scrambled to his feet and hurried after her. She was a good head shorter than he was at that point, but she moved briskly when she was on a mission.

“I already told you. Please listen to me when I speak,” she huffed and then let out a grunt as she speared the umbrella down into the sand at the edge of the waves. “So. What would you like to do first?”

When Adrien just blinked at her like a small, confused rodent, Kagami elaborated, “Collecting shells might be nice. I’ve never done that before. I don’t quite see the draw of kicking sand at one another, but I’m willing to give it a try once, if that’s something you’re interested in.”

A gradual smile dawned like a sunrise on Adrien’s lips as Kagami kept going.

“Perhaps it might be interesting to find a little tidal pool and watch the miniature ecosystem for a while. Or, if you’d rather, I doubt we could play a very effective game of volleyball underneath this umbrella, but we could probably bump the ball back and forth if I step back a bit and we’re careful not to take the umbrella out with an overly zealous rogue pass.”

“Thank you, Kagami,” Adrien whispered, radiating gratitude.

She rolled her eyes and waved him away. “Don’t thank me. I felt compelled to do something because your aura of depression was spoiling my holiday.”

“Thank you, Kagami,” he repeated, leaning in and placing a kiss on her cheek. “You’re the best.”

She tried her hardest not to show any outward sign of the way his lips on her skin made her melt on the inside.

“Here.” Adrien bent down and retrieved a sizeable shell, inspecting it and brushing away the sand before holding it out to her. “Have you ever listened to the sound of the ocean in a seashell before?”

She cocked an eyebrow at him. “You do know that that’s not actually the sound of the ocean, right?”

Adrien gave his eyes an overexaggerated roll. “Do me a favor and pretend to be five years old for a second.”

“Five-year-old Kagami knew that it wasn’t possible to hear the sound of the ocean in seashells either,” she informed bluntly.

With a longsuffering sigh, Adrien held the shell up to her ear. “Listen.”

All she could hear was the sound of her heart as he leaned in close to listen to the shell with her.

She let her eyes slip closed as she attempted to engrave the memory of that moment on her heart forever.

[aquaticstyles]

unchained

A while ago I was asked for a “Have You Ever Been In Love” sequel, and while this is probably not the direction you guys were expecting, this is what I came up with. Also, this one’s (loosely) inspired by the song “Scott Street” by the lovely Phoebe Bridgers (highly recommend listening to the spotify sessions version while listening). Fun fact, for forever I misheard the lyrics, thinking she was saying “unchained” instead of “ashamed.” After noticing that I have, in fact, been wrong this entire time, I realized I kinda liked my version better (sorry Phoebe). And, me being me, I ran with it and it spun into this quick, 1.4k part two. Reblogs + feedback help so much! Enjoy!! xx, Jane 

“Have you ever been in love?”

Harry’s heart stops.

The question catches him off guard, and not just because he’s not used to interviewers asking such personal ones (he guesses this is what he signed up for when he agreed to be the first male flying solo on the cover of Vogue). It makes his heart stop because of his answer, because of the woman that had once asked him the same exact question.

Harry has never been one to linger in his sadness; he finds it unproductive, and quite honestly, completely depressing. After a break up, one can find the caramel-colored curls belonging to the world’s latest phenomenon sweating out his sorrow, or frustration, at the gym, pounding the boxing bag again and again and again. “Nothing another set can’t fix,” his trainer, Mike, would often tease the man in denial, knowing good and well by his posture upon entering the ring, slumped shoulders and an ever-present crease between his eyebrows, that another one had bit the dust the night prior. Mike had learned fairly quickly to never ask questions, to simply let Harry work out his emotions as he pleases, even if that means letting him walk out with wrapped fists masking throbbing, crimson knuckles.

Harry has never been one to talk about his sadness either; he finds it prolongs the pain rather than diminishing it, an annoying gnat swarming around an abnormally large bite from a crisp apple, halting his progression in enjoying his afternoon snack because he just can’t catch the bloody thing. His sister has tried to break him from his stubborn ways, even resulting to getting the lanky man drunk off tequila in hopes of him finally opening up about his incessant missed targets; however, that only ever ends up with Gemma’s arms holding up the giggling teddy bear and folding his bulky body into a taxi, mimicking cramming a cotton ball into a straw. Therapy was suggested and waved off with an inked palm, because if he doesn’t want to talk to his sister about it, how on earth is he supposed to talk to a stranger?

Never-ending claims of “I’m fine,” and “It just didn’t work out,” and “Don’t worry ‘bout me,” and “It wasn’t even that serious.” Sure, each breakup took a little something out of the man that insisted he was “fine,” but eventually, a couple dozen inked journal pages later, Harry would be back to his normal, happy-go-lucky, perfectly-kind self.

All of these rang true for most of Harry’s young adulthood.

All of these were common occurrences, that is, until Harry met you.

You were unlike anyone he had ever met. Selfless, but not in an over-bearing, walk-all-over-me kind of way. Funny, but not in an underlying-hatred, fake-laugh kind of way. Genuine, but not in a look-at-me, fake kind of way. Honest, in a I-want-to-know-everything-that-makes-you-you, ask-you-questions-until-the-sun-rises kind of way. Drop-dead-gorgeous in the most unbelievable, glowing, ethereal, kind of way that he constantly reminded you of. You were the perfect balance, the missing diamond to even out the coal on the other end of the scale.

Loving you felt like the ocean.

In the morning when there’s a hazy screen covering your lenses, clouding the soft sunlight in a muted, white-washed filter. It’s more gray, yet still golden as the shining mass of fire lazily rises from its slumber. It’s calm, clouds stretched apart like cobwebs in the faded blue sky above, waves leisurely, almost too relaxed, crashing along the bleached shore then disappearing back into the horizon. Still sleepy, still new, an entire day ahead of you.

In the afternoon when the sun is at its highest and hottest, radiating down ultraviolet rays that burn your skin, causing alarmingly red shoulders in need of aloe that soon progressively heal and turn into a bronzed exterior. Speckles of light dancing upon excited waves, similar to a neighborhood of children dressed in pink polka dots and orange overalls running towards the ice cream truck filled to the brim with dreams of sugary stomachaches. It’s saturated, every color its brightest and loudest, pops of cerulean and coral. It’s a blanket of comfort, a suffocating scarf. It’s sweet. It’s sour. A cool glass of lemonade sinking into a bed of quicksand. Annoying and astonishing.

In the night, when the yellowing presence is long gone in the awakening of the moon, the deepest indigo swirling in between pockets of stars dotted and flecked into the atmosphere like freckles. It’s black and blue. You don’t know where the earth stopss and the water begins, familiarity lost as the waves erase each new footprint in the sand. The tide is an abuser, sweet as it sings you in, terrifying as it pulls you under. Skinny dipping, vulnerable, exciting, adrenaline, heart thumping, diving, sinking, drowning.

The morning, the afternoon, the night. The happening, the honeymoon, the heartbreak.

Ever since it ended, everything Harry had ever known was cast aside, thrown out like a Gucci jumper from last season. For the first time in his twenty-six years of living, fourteen of those juggling the obstacles that relationships can and will bring, Harry was irreversibly numb, a pair of frozen, gloveless fingertips blue from the icy wind. Not only did he linger in the gut-wrenching grief, he was absorbed by it. Instead of waking up each morning tucked into the bare side of your body diffusing innocent warmth, sipping a steaming cup of black coffee received by hands much smaller than his own, he woke up with a stranger laying on his chest, cold, with a pounding headache the bottle of whiskey had gladly supplied from the night before. The days felt as if they lasted an eternity, time stuck in slow-motion, tick, tick, ticking, one second, one and a half, one and three quarters, two. He watched the seasons pass, the grass dying and regenerating into its natural emerald shade from his bedroom, dust pocketing in the corners of a picture frame containing two pairs of sparkling eyes and genuine, toothy grins sitting on the windowsill. Nights consisted of him lying sleepless on his back, eyes wide awake, thumbs twiddling as the echoes of helicopters overhead drone in and out. Dozens of missed calls remained unanswered: Mum, Gem, Mitch, Mike, Adam, Sarah, Mum, Mum, Gem, Mum, Mike, Mitch, Gem, Mitch, Mum…

He was stuck, a pancake glued to an ungreased pan, charred. It was when this melancholy had prolonged for nearly its sixth month, and all at home remedies (which included drinking, writing, drinking because he was writing, and writing because he was drinking) failed to provide any peace that he decided to give in to the recommendations from almost every single one of his friends: therapy. After the first session, he was ready to book it and sprint off to a deserted island with nothing but a coconut filled with rum to accompany his solitude. Turns out that one session was the mento to his coca cola of bottled-up emotions, exploding months’ worth of buried feelings and memories in an hour. It took the will of God (and Gemma purposefully lying and telling him they were going to get lunch) to get Harry back in the baby-pink-painted interior of his therapist’s office. After months of talking, sorting, compartmentalizing, yelling, crying, healing, unpacking, and reflecting, Harry tackled down the closure he had been chasing. A year and an album later, when he heard your name, he no longer felt trapped, heart beating rapidly, trying desperately to break apart his ribcage, he felt unchained—a prisoner uncaged, pounds and pounds of metal unlocked from his wrists, free.

Before, your name was paired with a colorless photo album, snapshots of vibrancy draining into black and white, frozen, lifeless, still.

Now, your name resembled a film reel of the best moments, your sweater hanging in his closet, your arm thrown around his mother’s shoulder in a polaroid candid, your laugh echoing in the acoustics of his shower after you nearly slipped on the lavender bubbles coating sudsy toes, your hands massaging his scalp, twisting curls into detailed plaits, your foamy lips smushing against a stubbled cheek, leaving remnants of peppermint mocha in the winter air, your satin skirt contrasting from his purple flares in his backyard, playing thumb war and whispering confessions in the moonlight. The good memories built a brick wall to block out the bad, dimming the light of your downfall.

“Have you ever been in love?” The question echoes again in Harry’s ears, causing a grin and a dimple to pop into his cheek. The fuzzies. Once, twice, three times. Click, shake, tape.

“Yeah, I have.”

[writing-the-end]

LoL Chapter 57: Lost in the Ice

Masterpost

A Wizard Hermits tale (AU, designs, ideas belongs to @theguardiansofredland)

The hermits sail across the dangerous, ever changing Ashioll sea into her fjords, in search for a city that no longer exists in this time.

But what of the past?

________________________________________________

A/N: Hey guys, im so sorry Both red and I have been MIA, things have been really tough for us and just when it seems we’re ready to start back at it, something new knocks us down. We dont plan to abandon LoL (we still talk about it all the time), but chapters will remain sporatic until we can get back to the grind. Thank you for your Patience __________________________________________________

The wind cut through the air as sharp as icicles, and stormy green waves crash against the rocky shoreline. With each wind driven push, another layer of water spikes across the beaches. The sea tosses the ship around, turning even the most seaworthy faces as green as Cleo’s own. She’s the only person on the whole ship who isn’t seasick- in fact, she’s howling with the wind, grinning with teeth as sharp as the ice, her moves as broad as the waves. 

She’s as alive as the sea, or as alive as a zombie can be. “This is a grand storm, boys! Hold onto your lunch, or you’ll just be chumming the waters!” 

“Can’t the Ashioll sea be normal for once?” Mumbo whimpers, staring at the grey, clouded horizon, even when the waves block his view of the only thing keeping him from getting sick. At this point, he doesn’t even care with the freezing water splashing on him. 

“Can’t our captain be normal for once?” Iskall adds, his face the same color as his tunic.

“King Sormena, when should we make the turn into one of the fjords?” Cleo questions, turning to face the monarch. Sor is gripping the railing to the wheel tight, fear and panic evident by the purple and yellow tones of his hair. 

“Search for the one with the frozen waterfall! And just Sor is fine!” He doesn’t really feel like a king right now. Not when his teeth are too frozen to chatter and his knuckles have turned as white as snow from fear. 

“We can hardly even see the shoreline!” TFC’s grey hair traps the snow and ice, forming like crystals. Even he was terrified for his life as they beat on through the storm. 

There was only one other hermit who didn’t fear the freezing temperatures. Stress, though nervous about Cleo’s sailing, was used to the biting chill of the cold. It just gave her all the reason more to bundle up in soft cozy clothes and snuggle under blankets by the fire, drinking warm drinks. She was not immune to the cold, but she welcomed it, and could feel the strength of her powers grow with the blizzard around her. She felt like lightning, full of energy and power. And she can see through the storm, see beyond the white out. “Up ahead! The next finger has a humongous waterfall!” 

Cleo and the other hermits squint, daring to ebb closer to the spiked shoreline. Sure enough, frozen water cascades from the top of a mountain, turning to a solid sheet across an archway over the fjord entrance. In the few warm months, the water must fall freely from the overhang, all the way into the waves, a curtain between the ever rough Ashioll  sea and the supposed city beyond. But for now, it’s suspended half way, half drawn. 

Turning into the thin finger through the mountainous, rocky shores, Cleo bites her lip as they drift under the frozen fall. The peak of her mast scrapes against the blue ice, chipping and scratching with a horrible screeching noise, but never disrupting the jagged teeth of the fjord’s maw. 

Entering the belly of the beast, the waves die back and the wind stops howling. Within the fjord, the hermits and their ship are protected from the elements by the mountains surrounding. The tide pushes them further in, silent as the snow that drifts to the wooden deck. The hermits are slow to recover from the sea, but no one dares think about the fact they’ll probably have to leave the same way. “I can see why the Ancient Ones chose this place.” Doc states. “It’s so well protected. No one in their right mind would sail through that.” 

“Actually this place wasn’t always as frozen as it is now. The harsh cold probably occurred around the same time the magical mist in the lower Ashioll sea appeared.” Sor points out. “According to my studies with my brother, this place was quite lush.” 

“Do you think it had something to do with why the Ancient Ones disappeared? Or did the Ancient Ones cause it, King Sormena?” xB questions, flicking his fins to rid the ice from the scaly appendages. 

“Please, just call me Sor.” The king smiles weakly. “But I’m not sure. We don’t know why, how, or even when exactly the Ancient Ones disappeared. It’s an unfortunate gap in our history I hope this expedition will help fill.” 

“But I don’t even see a city!” Iskall points out. The hermits look across the rocky shoreline, but only find trees and boulders. No sign of the carved buildings and stone aqueducts that the Ancient Ones were known for. Were they in the wrong fjord? Everything looked undisturbed, pristine wild forests. Everything looked normal. 

Except for a crystal, sitting in the center of the water, peeking out from the surface and resting on a stone platform. Every hermit’s hairs stand on end at the sight of a crystal- and some even draw weapons and circles in preparation for destroying one of Dolios’s corrupted gems. But as they dare to sail closer, slow and with bated breath, they realize the gem is blue rather than black. Glowing faintly, rather than absorbing all the light. Cleo’s ship bumps against the stone platform, floating on the freezing fjord, but the platform doesn't move. 

Grian is the first to escape the rocking vessel, praising Stratis for being freed. Basking on the solid rock in the center of the water. Stress, False, and Ren help tie Cleo’s ship to the stone dock while TFC eeks closer. His curiosity gets the better of him, and almost like a child, he can’t help but reach out and touch. The rest of the guild, except Sor, flinch. Preparing for some sort of dark magic attack, or for the crystal to take over TFC like it did so long ago. 

But nothing happens. The only shift in the fog around them is from the wind, only the creaking of Cleo’s ship speaking into the silent air. Bolstered by the reactionless crystal, TFC raps his knuckle against the blue, glowing stone. Gazes deep into its luminescent core. Even licks it. “I think it’s chalcanthite. But what use would a crystal like that have out here?” 

“What are its properties, T?” Ren questions, circumambulating the stone. 

“Uh, give me a minute. This is a pretty unusual gem, and this old mind isn’t what it used to be.” The dwarven wizard rubs his temples, massaging the information to bubble to the surface. “It...it deals in time, removing obstacles within time by…” 

TFC goes quiet, staring out at the waters. The surface is calm, but its nearly opaque as he attempts to search the murky waters. What is hiding beneath the waves, disappearing beneath as time eroded it away? TFC’s thoughts are running a mile a minute, piecing together all the information presented before him like a puzzle. Creating a story in his head. 

So lost in the gemstone and history, he doesn’t hear Xisuma call for him to return to the present. Not until X shakes the guildmaster, bringing him back. “What does it do, TFC?” 

“Chalcanthite deals in time, the shift from present to past.” TFC continues to ramble, trying to piece together everything in his mind. But explaining time travel through magical crystals is hard, and then adding on the history of the Ancient ones? 

Most of the other hermits aren’t listening. Some are bouncing in place, trying anything and everything to stay warm, while others are talking through chattered teeth. Including Grian, and King Sor. 

“Why in the world did your guildmaster lick the gem?” Sor questions, shaking his head. His frozen locks of hair tickle at the base of his neck. 

Grian shrugs in response, summoning his wings and fluffing his feathers in an attempt to gain warmth. Blue and white ruffled in a cocoon. “Hey, King Sormena. I dare you to hit the stone.” 

“Please, for the love of the gods, just Sor is fine. And why on earth would I do that?” What did the crystal ever do to deserve being hit? Grian’s only response is another shrug, this time matched with a mumbling series of noises. 

“Cause why not? Do it, Sor, I dare ya.” If it wasn’t for Sor getting to hear just his name, his nickname, fall from Grian’s lips, so casual and friendly, but he’s been conditioned by his brother never to say no to a dare.

Sor walks up behind X and TFC, the former much more confused than the latter, and gazes into the crystal. SOmething about the power within it, so strong and ancient, tugs on Sor’s own magic. Not like it’s trying to steal it, but rather- amplifying it. Strengthening him. Sor breaks out of his trance at the whispered encouragement, the egging on of Grian. 

Before Sor, or any other hermit can think about what he’s doing, he smacks the crystal with the palm of his hand. 

Despite being king, Sor is just about as clever as all the other hermits. He probably shouldn’t have hit the gem so hard his hand stings and goes numb, much less make the ringing sound he can hear in his ears. 

It’s not just in Sor’s ears. The low toll can be heard, slowly rising higher in pitch. It echoes across the fjord, silencing the wind, the creaking ship. Freezing everything for one brief second as the crystal glows brighter. 

The blue gem pulses, and rippling from the lattice, a bubble of light engulfs the hermits, the stone circle, the ship, and the entire fjord. Too bright, the hermits are all forced to avert their gaze, closing their eyes and praying for the chance to open them again. No one dares to attempt until the ringing has disappeared, fading off into the mountains and distant snowstorm

Grian, used to the idea of potentially waking up dead at this point, opens his eyes first. 

They aren’t alone in an empty fjord, freezing to death. There is no snowstorm, and the entire fjord is filled- not with ice floes or soft waves. 

No, it’s filled with a city. 

Stone buildings, floating on the water like driftwood, so tall they challenge the mountains to touch the top of the world. Vines, carefully tended, creep down the building sides, and people- hundreds of thousands of people- take stairs, vines, water tunnels- just about any and every mode of transportation to get around the city. The stone and the greenery are one and the same, the people just as alive as their own buildings and streets seem to be. A group of children run by, kipling and naga and human and bacca, laughing and screaming as they play some kind of game within their own imagination. A few people watch the hermits as they stand there, just as confused as the team. 

TFC is so deep in his explanation to Xisuma, he doesn’t even notice time has already shifted around him. At least, not until a leaf flutters past, bright green and broad. Not any of the pines that they saw daring to grow in the rough terrain and even rougher weather. Both X and TFC watch the leaf drift between them, before landing on a roadway a short distance off. Revealing to them where they are. When they are. 

“The lost city of the Ancient Ones.” Sor whispers, standing in awe at the sight. “Welcome to more than a thousand years ago.”

[kirisaki-daichi-scenarios]

Can we get more beach trip headcannons except this time with female! manager, Thank you I love your work❤️❤️❤️

original beach training camp hcs here - worth reading for context

look at my ass saying ‘context’ as if this is some literary analysis

on the one hand, with the manager around, hanamiya’s no longer the only adult there to look after everything

on the other hand, manager-chan has to be a little mad to be even be working with the boys, and thus she’s only going to be adding to the chaos

for example, half the time, she’s telling hara that no he can’t just claim he has to protect her from the ‘’renowned okinawan beach ghost’ in order to get out of practice, and the other half of the time, she’s plotting with him at 2am about how they terrorise the others and make them think that the beach ghost does exist

side note: seto doesn’t believe in ghosts or anything that’s not explained by science; hanamiya’s the same but he pretends he worships satan every once in a while just for the sake of freaking people out; who knows if furuhashi believes in them in not, but, even if he saw a ghost, he wouldn’t be impressed

and yamazaki’s the type of say they’re stupid, and then start fucking screaming as he goes through a haunted house and then, once he’s out of there, claim that he was never phased in the slightest, and that it was furuhashi grabbing onto everyone’s arms (furuhashi’s a good target cause he’s not a large enough dick to dispute it and embarrass yamazaki; he just kinda raises an eyebrow and moves on)

road trip fic where everyone visits a haunted house and does all kinds of stupid shit when?

anyway that’s why yamazaki’s sitting in on the “reviving beach ghost” conversation (you can’t get scared if you are the ghost, am i right?)

the plan with the ghost is simple and is supposed to involve a) manager dressing up as the ghost (long black dress, hair over her face, etc), b) yamazaki making ghostly sounds (he’s good at sound effects, it’s not as stupid an idea as it sounds), c) hara’s gonna film it all (and also buy the necessary supplies, like fake blood etc)

the problem is that discussing satanically plans at 2am, after you’ve had a full day of practice (or a full day of dealing with these idiots), is that you’re not going to be awake at 7am

which is when hanamiya storms in wondering why half the team are missing

although the sight of people covered in dark cloaks (they’re just blankets; it got cold in the night) and pages filled with drawings of pentagrams (it took zaki that many tries before he could draw it without it it being wonky) may be a little unnerving

nothing is more terrifying than a fuming hanamiya dragging you out of bed when you’re still half asleep

and he also finds the written plans so, all in all, mission failed

Moving On

this is already fucking long and i’ve only just started shit

given that seto never plays in full matches, his fitness plan is a little more lenient - aka, sometimes when everyone else is off running and dribbling and whatnot, it’s just manager-chan and seto on the beach, enjoying their holiday

this is helpful as a) it prevents seto from being forgotten (see previous training camp post), and b) it gives their manager the time to very helpfully apply suncream for him, probably in a pattern, so he gets the image of a flower sunburnt to his stomach

the best part of it is that seto doesn’t even give a shit

catch him floating off on his back to the middle of the philippine sea with the flower shining against the sun like a message from god

actually that raises a very important point about the boy’s swimming abilities so,

yamazaki + hara: good swimmers, neither ever took lessons so their strokes aren’t too polished, but they can goof around in the sea and try to drown one another without anyone actually drowning (or, at least, that’s what the manager’s there for)

furuhashi: very good swimmer, even better diver. disappears without making a single ripple in the water, no bubbles either. he just appears all of a sudden from underneath your feet like “this is a pretty shell, isn’t it?” as if his dark presence at the sea bed hadn’t just made several people think there’s a shark about

seto’s real good at floating, and at a mediocre backstroke, and that’s all he ever does - or is bothered to do

matsumoto takes pride in the fact he’s a faster swimmer than anyone else on the team (except for furu that is), and he likes to do the butterfly stroke angrily up and down the shore to get rid of all his pent up stress (hanamiya never comments on it, cause hey it’s just extra fitness training)

and finally hanamiya was unable to swim for a very long time (and there is many a photo of him with swimming armbands, hidden in his bedroom, from when everyone was coming over, and he couldn’t let them know that he has a weakness

however, one time, hara had a pool party when hanamiya still couldn’t swim, and hara threw him into the pool, and he just somehow learned how to in those few seconds? talk about survival instinct

alright back to our scheduled program

furuhashi is damn good at fishing. like damn good, like doesn’t even need a rod, he just shoves his arm in, somehow grabs one, and guts it and prepares the meal there on the beach

having to eat dinner with a furuhashi whose hands and some of his chest are stained with blood (normally he’d wash it off, but he’s a little emo at heart. went through a phase as a child where he was really into blood vials, and satanic witchcraft and all that) may be a little disconcerting, but it’s also a lovely time :)

picture the scene, dear reader

all the lads, surrounded by the sunset, the evening tide and the lush green in the background, sat by a little stove fire over which furuhashi is frying the fish

matsumoto and the manager chatting about the competitions scheduled for after the team gets back (you’d think hanamiya would be involved in this discussion, but Coach Time TM is over, and now he and hara are challenging one another to watch over hot coals, as furuhashi patiently warms up more stones for them)

seto probably helping furuhashi out; either that, or telling yamazaki all the many illnesses he might catch from the ocean, as zaki takes a massive bite of seaweed and then spits it all out

everyone eventually getting dragged into the hot coals battle

someone almost definitely gets burnt (spoiler alert it’s zaki) and manager-chan has to bandage him up as he yells at a laughing hara that he was sabotaged and that he can handle heat better than anyone else here

he dives on the hot coals as if to make his point

and thus matsumoto and furuhashi have to carry him back to the hotel, cause now he’s got even more burns (and he’s also a little baby who doesn’t like pain, but don’t let him here you say that)

oh the woes of training camps when two of your group have very high IQs, and yet there is still only 1 brain cell being shared between 7 people

[star-trekkin-across-theuniverse]

Can’t wake up

It felt like you were floating. You were so sleepy, and you felt like you were floating. The white noise in your ears, was it the sound of waves lapping at the ocean shore? Because that would explain why you felt like you were floating. It was so peaceful and calm, being weightless and relaxed in your own personal sea of tranquility. You drew in a deep breath and sighed, allowing your worries and anxieties to wash away with the constant lapping of the tide.

Somewhere, on the shore maybe? You could hear a voice. Deep and clipped, a rumbling staccato buzz in the back of your head. Whoever he was was calling your name. The sound of the waves, the lull of the ocean - the pull was too great, and you couldn’t hear what he was saying. Just that his voice was strong and masculine.

The gentle tug of the waves was washing you out deeper into the ocean, but you didn’t fight it. You allowed yourself to float, buoyed by the water, eyes closed and relaxed.

“Come back to me!” The words cut clear through the static of the water, and you felt yourself jolt from floating to just laying. Had this man grabbed you? Was he trying to pull you back to shore? Were you in danger? From him? From the sea? The waves wrenched you from his hands, and again, you were floating. You considered listening for his words again, but the gentle rocking motion of the water lulled you back into relaxation and you could feel yourself drifting away from shore again.

“We’re losing her!” The man’s voice was starting to sound panicked, and again, you jolted into awareness, just for a moment. A shot of pain ripped through you as you felt him drawing you back to the shore. The waves dragged you back and you felt yourself flail and start to sink, just for a moment.

XxX

“We’re losing her!” Steve tore your tac suit open, baring your chest, and started chest compressions. “Get the medkit for me! I need the shears!” 

Tony shoved the back toward him, and Natasha pulled it open, grabbing the shears from the top and handing them over quickly. While Steve sliced through your sports bra, Nat readied the defibrillator. Steve held a hand up to stop her from placing the pads, and continued the chest compressions and rescue breathing. 

XxX

The floating sensation left you, and you felt yourself being dragged down by the undertow. You tried to paddle against the straining waves, but couldn’t so much as move your arms. You vaguely remembered your surf instructor telling you to swim with the current toward the edge of the riptide, and tried to manoeuvre yourself to where you thought the waves might be gentler, but you couldn’t.  You broke through the waves, gasping, and finally fought against the drag until you were out of the rip and floating again. You rolled back onto your back, closed your eyes against the sun and floated.

XxX

You’d drawn in a deep ragged breath, and then fallen back unresponsive. 

“Tony?” Steve asked. Tony dropped his visor and starred at you. 

“She’s got a heart rate. It’s slow. BP is low. Oxygen sats are crap. We need to get out of here and get her back to the compound. Nat, get us up in the air,” he ordered. Steve pulled the oxygen tank off the wall of the quinjet and attached a mask before attaching it to your face. 

“I can’t find anything wrong with her, Tony,” Steve sighed, throwing a blanket across your naked form. “I don’t suppose that suit has a CT in it?”

“No such luck, Cap,” Tony shook his head. “We’ll get her in the cradle, she’ll be fixed up just fine.”

Steve entwined his fingers in yours and leaned against the bulkhead of the quinjet. “I hope so.” XxX

You washed up on shore with the changing of the tides, and felt your skin prickle against the sun. Fighting the exhaustion you felt from your swim against the riptide, you sighed and stretched out on the sand. You yawned and opened your eyes as you rolled onto your side, and saw a beautiful woman sitting on a rock observing you. She was stark naked, but had drawn her legs up against her chest. The sun refracted off her skin, which was gleaming ultramarine, complementing the regal blue of her ultramarine hair.

“I didn’t think mermaids had legs?” You asked. The pitch of her laugh felt unnatural.

“You tell me, I’m only here because you summoned me,” she replied. You propped yourself up on an elbow and looked at her, and then around the beach. 

“Am I dead?” You asked.

“No.”

“What’s wrong with me then? Why am I here?” You asked.

“Your brain is protecting you.”

“From what?” You demanded.

“From feeling the pain.” She was nearly expressionless as you spoke, and refused to offer more information.

“What pain?” You were getting frustrated.

“Intercranial hemorrhage.” Her voice was soothing at least. “Now rest. Or you’ll never wake. Stop fighting and rest.”

“If this is a dream, I won’t get a sunburn?”

She laughed again. “No. You’re quite safe from that.” She rose and stepped back to the water’s edge. “Rest.” She dove into the shallows and when she resurfaced, you saw her tail breach and slap the water in acknowledgement.

You took her advice and laid back down, closing your eyes against the sun, and allowing your body to rest.

XxX

Steve sat beside the cradle, partially stripped out of his suit, just watching you. Nat came over with a glass of water and nudged him.

“Go have a shower, get some food,” she recommended. Steve shook his head.

“What if she wakes up?”

“I’ll be here. She’ll know I love her more,” Natasha teased. Steve scowled. “Steve, you won’t do her any good stinky and hangry. Go get washed up. There’s a chicken rice bowl in the kitchen with your name on it. I’ve got this.”

Steve sighed and pushed himself to his feet, leaving the quiet of the infirmary. Natasha looked down on you and flopped in the seat Steve had vacated.

“As much as I want you to wake up, you should probably save it for when he gets back,” she said to you. “But don’t even think about dying on us.”

XxX

“I want you to wake up.” The feminine voice broke through the wash of the waves, and seabird song. You groaned and opened one eye, thinking the mermaid had returned. There was no one around. You sat up, and took in your surroundings again. The island was beautiful, from what you could see. And your subconscious was ensuring all your needs were met. A small, but sheer rock face a short way down the beach was home to a waterfall that you could only assume was fresh water. There were coconut trees at the edge of the beach, and a few short bushes that looked to be pineapples. You could be quite happy here, you thought. “Baby, you’ve got to come back to me.” The same male voice from before echoed in your head. It was so loud this time that it made you dizzy, and you stumbled toward the shade. You might not get sunburn, but your brain felt scrambled from the heat. XxX

“Baby, you’ve got to come back to me,” Steve kissed your knuckles. “It’s been three days. Doctor Cho says all your scans have returned to normal. You’re okay. Wake up. Please.”

XxX

“Please.” It was a single word, but it held more passion and pain than you could ever remember hearing. You looked around the beach. The voices came in waves every so often, but usually quiet, just breaking through the gentle but persistent noise of the ocean waves lapping against the shore. If only you knew where the voices were coming from. 

Since you’d washed up on the island, you’d searched the entire thing, looking for the ghost voices. They all seemed familiar, but you couldn’t place them. You flopped down against the soft branches you’d turned into a makeshift mattress and allowed your mind to wander, trying to place the male voice you kept hearing as you watched the clouds drift across the sky.

XxX

“Any change?” Tony leaned into the infirmary, holding a bag of dried fruit. Steve looked haggard. Tony couldn’t guess when the man had last slept, but he looked like he might not have shaved in at least a week. Natasha had stopped nagging Steve about hygiene when he’d told her to fuck off earlier in the week. 

“Nothing.” Steve’s voice was devoid of emotion.

According to Dr. Cho, there was nothing wrong with you, but the vegetative state was persistent. Steve was grieving you, despite your textbook vital signs. He hung his head in his hands and his shoulders started to shake.

“Whoa there, Steve, Dr. Cho says she’s going to be fine. Let her brain rest. There must be more to it than the cradle can see. Tony rushed forward, not even thinking, and rubbed his hand on Steve’s back. Steve leaned into his friend and wept.

“What if this is it? What if this is all I get? Just a few months with her and now she’s gone?” Steve asked, his voice overwrought with sorrow. Tony patted Steve’s back awkwardly.

“This isn’t it,” Tony promised. “You need some rest, and a shower. And maybe a shave, although I have to say the beard is fetching. I’ll sit with her. If you come back in less than six hours, I’ll smother her myself.”

Steve glared at Tony, but pushed to his feet. “You wouldn’t dare. I’m only going because I owe Nat an apology.”

XxX

The male voice was different, and his chatter was non-stop. You wanted to find him and tell him to stick a cork in it, but as usual, there was no one on the island but you. Yet another fruitless search for the voices that haunted your island made you realize how lonely you were.  Had you always been here? How had you gotten here? You remembered floating in the ocean, but where had you been before that? You sat down and struggled to remember. As you stared out at the water, you idly doodled in the sand with a small twig. The nattering man finally stopped speaking and you sighed in relief. You pushed yourself back on your feet and rose, looking down at the series of circles with the star in the centre. It had to mean something, it was the only thing you ever seemed to draw when you were thinking about things.

XxX

“Tony says the beard looks good. I never would have worn a beard before, but I kind of like it. It’s not fancy like his either. It’s just a beard.” Steve smoothed down the hair on his face and took a sip from his coffee. He picked up your hand and placed it against the hairs on his cheek, smoothing your hand down the scruff. Your fingers reflexively curled into the hair and you let out a soft sigh.

Steve leaned forward, “Come back to me. Please.”

XxX

“Please.” The anguish in the voice tore through your heart and you sat up. Had it never been nighttime since you got here?

“Please.” Your ears started to ring and your vision blurred. The ocean was placid, calm. It had never been so calm.

“Please, baby.” Memories rushed through you and you looked around at the island, no longer beautiful and friendly, but instead looking depleted and dangerous.

“Steve?”

-----------------------

@rampant-salamander @bolontiku @bkwrm523