#Dark Abyss Shipping
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twinkleember · 5 months ago
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Something that would have played out way in the future in Card Keepers AU.
Mist would be using a human disguise. Since you know. Naked ghost is not really common. Snow was going to return home back to astral world on her own, but Mist insists on joining her on her travels to the temple. Sneakily his way of some sort of care. Sorta.
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thinwhitedoc · 5 months ago
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SHERLOCK | Martin Freeman as John Watson
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norigohan · 8 months ago
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#赤面する子は可愛い
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rosejigglypuff76 · 2 months ago
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My Favorite Cookie Run Ships 🪴🍫
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from-thoseghosts · 9 months ago
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aromanticasterisms · 1 year ago
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ah. so elynas and durin really are siblings huh
#personal stuff#thorn plays genshin#hm. hm.#can't believe albedo has another sibling! fontaine event where albedo goes to elynas. who's with me#hsdgfjdkh but fr i thought so after completing the quest!#big dead dragon born from a cosmic void with blood that crystallizes. cells that literally drop Alien Goop#and then the world quest where we get the pov of the ship's crew talking about the Abyssal sea monsters#AND THEN. now. rereading durin lore#durin specifically arose from the Sea and is described as being a black *serpentine* dragon in line with elynas's appearance#festering desire also speaks of a Mother#then dragonspine spear paints durin as being gentle and wanting to befriend the people of mondstadt#and feeling no ill will towards them or dvalin when he died#which is VERY in line with elynas saying he realized the things that interested him brought fear and pain to others.#and that if he could traverse this world without causing pain or fear he would.#is very similar to durin wishing he could have met dvalin and venti and mondstadt under different circumstances#both weapons speak of being born from the same darkness that elynas talks about#AND both of their hearts are still intact. why tf did jakob want to get elynas's to beat again. what the fuck#just aoooh. i love how much of genshin exploration is just realizing how fucking fitting the Cataclysm is as a name for what happened#and how much it happened Everywhere#like. at least 3/7 of the original archons died. which is fucking. bonkers to me#considering MOST of them lived until that point with the only confirmed exception being the og pyro archon#don't even get me started on the fact that most of these deaths aren't even known#makoto obviously and rukkhadevata retroactively. no one in fontaine says a WORD about the lord of amrita#the only ones who seem to care about her are the oceanids. what the fuck#but god. like#the narzissenkreuz institute and the order of skeptics questline. the impact that people trying to investigate the cataclysm had#on others and themselves#like it makes a lot of sense but we don't see it anywhere else!! fucking of course people would try to study the cataclysm!!#of course people would try and find out wtf happened!!!#but now everything to do with the cataclysm is confidential to the point where people don't believe that most of the stories are true
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leibholz-moved · 2 years ago
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— local. municipal. politics
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viedhlaejandi · 5 months ago
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td
answered / ic. starters. / ic. open. / ic. headcanons / ooc. meta / ooc. musings / that is not dead which can eternal lie and with strange aeons even death may die. ch. study / the shadow of the captain's hand. visage / he laughed and smiled but it did not reach his eyes. likes / take you want. keep what you can. desires / it has never been that i suffered from lack of wanting. aesthetic / do you fear death? do you fear that dark abyss? all your deeds laid bare. all your sins punished. ship inspo / as sweet as drowning. my edits / ooc. wardrobe / salted and wet all over.
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tallyscrackshipcentral · 2 years ago
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Welcome Children to My Primo X Saul Goodman Tumblr!!
I am your Mother Tally
This blog is a thing bc my sister and I have no self control and spirled down a dark path of shipping!
I will post many things here: including Art, Headcannons and (my sisters) story links, maybe even some of my own little drabbles
Don't take this srsly. They're both silly characters and I thought it would be funny to ship them
If this piques your interest: Welcome!!
If it doesn't: I'm so sorry lol
Cedit to my sister J for this wonderful masterpiece of an image <3
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yandere-fetish · 5 months ago
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So I've been thinking of the Omegaverse lately and I can't quit thinking about adopting the entire fantasy trope around it.
Like, for example, just imagine...
An Alpha Siren who happens to discover its Omega Reader while there's a cruise ship above, which leads Alpha Siren to follow the ship to port while attempting to gather Omega Reader's attention, stalking you from a distance, leaving little love trinkets everywhere you go, before finally kidnapping you and dragging you need into the dark abyss.
Or reverse it— An Alpha Reader hunting down their Omega Siren, searching the ends of the Earth, diving in vast oceans, countlessly losing your Omega Siren after a single glance, only for your Omega Siren to come to you, half laying on the deck, wagging their tail desperately, wantonly begging for their Alpha Reader to impregnate them.
An Alpha Dragon that captures treasures in their vast abode while waiting on their perfect omega, then happens to discover Omega Reader gathering herbs. We can even turn you into an Omega Witch. Captured by the dragon, fighting for your life, even when your heat kicks in...
Or maybe an Omega Dragon that sneaks up on Alpha Witch Reader in the forest one day and refuses to leave your side. Whines like a puppy, guards like a dog, purrs like a cat, but is as horny as a rabbit when it comes to its heat.
How about an Alpha Naga hunting in the forest, searching for prey for their tribe, then comes across Omega Reader collecting samples, safeguarding the forest, or whatever else you may be doing for planet earth, and takes the chance to observe a new species before falling quickly. Alpha Naga ends up causing your premature heat, kidnapping you from your tent, and hiding you deep in a cave. Your heat gets the better of you but that doesn't mean you won't put up a fight.
Or an Omega Naga that you find as an adventurer that fights you tooth and claw. After winning, maybe it just slithers away or, because of Alpha Reader's pheromones, they go into heat. Maybe you help Omega Naga through its heat intimately, or maybe they are the ones who claw at your shirt, coiling their tail around your legs, their forked tongue kissing your neck and face, even the slippery cocks that end up slipping between its orifice.
Take an Omega Selkie that adores the shore and while swimming to the surface, catches wind of your Alpha pheromones, which leads to the Omega Selkie searching everywhere for you, discovering your swimming form scuba diving or just swimming leisurely, they end up playing with you in their seal form before revealing their true self when you have to leave. It's pretty hard to turn down a tempting and innocent creature that's leaking for you to sate their desires.
Or an Alpha Selkie who dominated the waves, blending in with humans while protecting the seas, they also dare to sift through the human omegas before coming across you, which leads to your rejection and their perseverance until you end up being emotionally and physically attached. Now you’ve got no where to run and no where to hide with Alpha Selkie breathing down your neck and following you at every turn.
Maybe try an Alpha Harpy bleeding from a wound in a fight and comes across you, an Omega Bird Hybrid, before passing out, to which you take them in and clean them up, feeding them, nursing them back to health. Alpha Harpy refuses to leave at the end, declaring themselves your mate, grabbing many courting gifts to give you, nonstop attempts to mate you, aiding you in building your nest and even collecting your meals.
Or maybe an Omega Harpy that is in constant need of affection but refuses themselves from having any contact with it due to their abused childhood, thus leading Alpha Reader, who has Omega Harpy as a pet, to care for their needs, to learn more about habits and behaviors, before attempting to try anything, which leads to multiple disputes that ends bloody for Alpha Reader before you honestly takes care of Omega Harpy through their heat, platonically, thus ending up with them falling for you.. but more slowly and with caution.
We could try an Alpha Cereberus Pack that has lived for thousands of years, most of them mateless and horny, until one night where they meet their perfect little Omega, you, a Cat Hybrid. They're sent to guard the demon that's killing your neighbors, all the while watching you, individually, invisibly, before the demon comes after your Omega Cat Hybrid Reader— which sends Alpha Cereberus Pack feral and ends up taking the demon's life and disappearing with you...
Or an Omega Cereberus Pack that have been abandoned by their last owners or their parents (bc that's the way of life what cruel abusive demons do) and are starved, on the brink of death, when innocent Alpha Cat Hybrid Reader finds them in the wet rain before taking them safely home. You take good care of the Omega Cereberus Pack, even as they snap and growl at your every move, but eventually, they grow fond of you, growing like wild weeds, and, out of nowhere, they've become adults, begging in heat one day.
Maybe enjoy an Omega Arachne that is super shy and scared of others that are not of their kind due to the screams of terror when coming in contact with someone else. Omega Arachne who's lived alone for a few hundred years, succumbing to loneliness.. then they caught a whiff of Alpha Reader's pheromones and suddenly went into a force heat, which causes your rut to come into play, but not until you've stumbled upon their web (in a cave, in a forest, or maybe on a mountain).
Or an Alpha Arachne that has set his eyes on you, an Omega Arachne (or maybe an Omega Lamia) since you were born, watching, waiting, for the perfect time to strike and capture you in their web. Alpha Arachne designs a web for the upcoming mating season and delivers many prey of all kinds for the honeymoon, and even if they don't end up catching your attention, they take matters into their own legs and kidnap you for their own. After a clutch or two, they know you'll be fine.
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twinkleember · 7 months ago
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Old art.
I tired to make a very early morning/still Night effect.
Snoozin' lil Red Eyes.
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darkdemeter · 10 months ago
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・issue #--・ 𝐒𝐈𝐑𝐄𝐍, 𝐁𝐄 𝐁𝐎𝐔𝐍��� 𝐓𝐎 𝐌𝐄
⚤ Dark Pirate!Bucky Barnes x Siren!Female Reader Pirate Bucky — semi dark Bucky — submissive/soft captive reader — possessive Bucky — SMUT 18+, Minors DNI! — P in V sex — memory loss/wiping via magic (reader affected) — light use of physical and sexual acts to avoid conflict — indirect breeding kink? — pet names — brief consumption of alcohol — I think that's it? ✎ 4.1k He is your captain. There is no place you'd rather be than by his side, nothing you could ever want for that is not him. You owe everything, your entire self, to him. Yet overboard and on the tide you sail across, in search for a great and ancient treasure, a song continues to seep through the cracks of your heart and soul… a song so familiar yet unknown. Forgotten. Bucky reminds you yet again that there is no place else for you that isn't beside him, that there is nothing out there.
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↳ MASTERLIST | ↳ TAGLISTS ────────────────────────
  There lays a song forgotten in your heart and soul, distantly faint as the receding tide to the shore. With each spare moment of peace you were given to dwell beneath the lapping waters, you spend a portion of it in search of that song. And what time remains within the falling sand’s glass, you bask in the blue and faded black abyss. 
  Tonight is no different. You could not remember the forgotten song that lulls you tenderly, pulling through skin and scale, calling you somewhere far, much too far, away from the balancing hull above. 
  You could not abandon your captain. Betray the trust between you both. After all, it was he who found you washed atop the rocky crevices of the island, who rescued you from a fate of drying out in the sun’s merciless heat. Who took care of you when there was nothing left of the life you once knew. 
  To break that earnt trust, to betray him, you can’t think of anything far more heartbreaking than that. 
“Time’s up, my Siren,” the voice of your captain beckons you. He calls you to the surface. 
  A sigh ripples through the water and your head tilts up towards the surface, the darkened slits in your milky white eyes shrink away from the moonlight penetrating through the waves. The long limb of your tail sweeps back and forth, thrusting you upwards, skin and scales shimmering brighter as you near the barrier between water and air. The breach pulls a lungful gasp of the night's chillingly crisp air, the only warmth coming from The Avenger. 
  Hair drench-pressed and thinned forms a curtain over your features as you peer up at the looming figure pridefully arching over the ship’s wooden rail. The slivered slits of your eyes grow wider as they focus on him, with a lantern beside him, glass scorched and worn by smoke, it illuminates the upper portion of his body. His white shirt ruggedly wrinkled and loosened to showcase a muscled chest, skin tanned by the sun’s heated kiss, sleeves rolled to the elbow, black ink painted legendary stories over his body in memorabilia. Stories forged into his flesh for all to study and cower in fear.
  He summons you with a kink of his finger and you obey his silent command with an all too eager nod. Around you, the water spirals into a column and rises up, pushing you higher to reach the wooden railing. Aboard the ship, the crew is merry in their celebrations. Another successful day of conquest and battle on the high seas, another amassed sum of gold and valuables to add to hull and reputation. 
  Of course spirits would be high and cheerful tonight. And of course, what was a conquest without the captain’s prize at the end of it all?
  Gathering yourself over the rail and onto the deck, the glistening shine of your tail morphs into two shapely legs, the milky hues of your eyes and other remnants of your true body hide in their human disguise. Your eyes find the hourglass on his opposite side, the sand all gathered in the bottom glass pit. Your captain holds something out for you and you graciously accept his gift, pulling the thin veil of your robe over your naked body. 
  His ocean blue eyes scan you up and down, the left corner of his plush, chapped lips turns upwards. 
“Did you find what you were looking for?” He purrs his question and it brings a cold chill to run up and down your spine, your lungs freeze with what little breath they had at that moment. 
  He turns his body properly to face you, burly shoulders and thick muscles straining the fabric of his shirt. His eyes fold slightly into a sharpened stare of interrogation. 
  “I–I don’t…” You shake your head, breath hitching. “I don’t understand, Captain. I search for nothing that is not you.”
  “Aye?” 
  Your gaze drops to the limb of his remaining flesh hand, the other limb itself brings an uncomfortable yet hazy familiarity, you dare not to look at it up close when in the awoken presence of his intimidating stature. Often you would question its being there and admire its raw and unique - mystical - materials, when your captain lay beside you fast asleep. 
  Wrapped tightly over and under the callousness of his palm, the golden chain twinkles in the pale moonlight, the larger pearl at its centre holstered by binding gold and tinier pearls, beneath the gilded net a more refined shape of a pearl dances on its link. 
  However, your mesmerised pupils flicker up in an instant, brought to the attention of your captain awaiting your obedient answer. A noise is pitched in your throat with the answer but it dies swiftly before its deliverance. 
  Your vision focuses behind him then, up near the ship’s helm, her fingers lace slowly in their hypnotic movement as the fabric of her scarlet magic is weaved together. A warning. You do your best to hide the distressed visage of fear, batting your eyelashes and brushing aside the death of your verbal response, you bow your body forward submissively to his that towers over you.
  When your lips touch his, he almost instantly devours yours in a hungry kiss, the soft caress of your fingers tracing the curves of his chest brings pride and lust to possessively reel you into him, your nude front colliding against the hardened wall of his own. 
  Your hands run their course of exploration up the swollen bulk of his arms until they find purchase and entangle themselves in his dark locks. His own hands ravage your body, kneading the flesh and slim muscle of your hips.
  He groans when you submit to his overpowering will, mouth parting to his eager tongue that shoots forward like a fired cannon, aimed to dominate you in every sense of the word. Your soft whimpers beneath him bring him unimaginable pleasure, the sort that drives him to seek it evermore, with no seeming end to his insatiable hunger for what is you; your entire being. Wolves are known to be ravenous beasts. It’s why he’s known by the moniker as the White Wolf. 
  His tongue fiercely dances over yours, swirling and his bottom teeth tease you by nipping your lip, earning a high pitched squeal from you. He chuckles, the sound rich and dark in its intention. Your core comes alight, burning hotly and the once cool air dissipates as heat courses through every vein and nerve in your body, your mind swimming in the ocean pools of his eyes. Eyes that at times are the only thing you need to be connected to the sea. 
  The prominent tent of his erected endowment presses against your stomach and lower abdomen. You finally pull away, however, in his caging embrace it’s not very far you’re able to move back. 
  “Wait for me in my cabin, little Siren,” he orders gruffly. Your mouth falls agape and you sputter in your rattled confusion. 
  “But I—” Still he penetrates you with that cold stare. It prods at you with radiant intensity, it matches the ominous scarlet glow that now burns brighter now as it moves down the upper deck’s stairs. Your eyes dart between the woman who controls the rolling waves of red magic and the ferocity of your captain’s hardpressed gaze. 
  Your head bounces quickly. “Yes...” 
  A few words of compliance are cut off by a gasp. As you attempt to follow his order and return to his cabin, he halts you within his metallic grasp and pulls you back in, curled lips mere inches from your own, in the clutches of his brazen hold, he commands your attention. Your hands are forced to rest over his chest. 
  He drawls with a warning growl, “Yes?”
  “Yes, Captain Barnes.”
  Bucky nods his head once and lets you go, his eyes flicker between the cabin door and you, silently instructing you to hurry along. Your bare feet barely make a sound over the wooden deck in your traversal towards the cabin, where you would await your captain to claim his prize. Treasure that he greedily gets to have all to himself. The conquest he takes glee in ravishing himself full of. 
  Once you’re tucked inside, exactly where he wants you, Bucky scratches at his stubbled jaw, his recent shave already beginning to grow in again. Wanda approaches his side, the fabric of her magic ceasing at her fingertips like embers passing over into lowly ashes. 
  “That was a close one,” Bucky growls, his tongue that savours your taste runs over his teeth. She hisses with a hushed tone, “With each outing she is given to delve into the sea, my magic weakens, Captain.”
  His eyes roll to glare at the woman beside him. She sighs with a bow of her head, eyes downcast as to not provoke him into thinking her words a challenge. 
  “All I mean to say is that you must reinforce her rules. She’s beginning to suspect far too much, and with each piece of recollection, my power is sapped by her own. Enforce her rules once more.”
  Bucky’s shoulders shrug upwards with an all too arrogant huff, haughty in his conviction. He idly tilts his flesh hand, admiring the piece of you he has wrapped up in his iron grasp. 
  “She will do well to keep in mind her place. She’s intimidated.”
  “She’s conflicted, Captain.” Her words bring about a scowl to Bucky’s face, lips coiled into a snarl and nose wrinkling, eyes thinning. “And it will be a matter of time before she is free of you, and you will be known as the captain who lost his siren.”
  The bridge of this knowledge leaves Bucky in a state of strife. An aspect to his notorious reputation was garnered by your captivity. The White Wolf known by all as the fearsome pirate captain who tamed a siren; held you in the oyster of his clutches. If he did lose you, then his reputation would be suffering a heavy loss. As if to sense his change of demeanour, her hands raise up with her glowing, magic tipped fingers. His nostrils flare and the harsh prestige that made him a force not to be trifled with, he commands,  “Do it.”
  Bucky struts off with a roll of thunder beneath his leather worn boots, swiping up a half drunk bottle of rum and swallows an animalistic gulp, joining in on the festivities of his crew. Wanda observes her captain for a moment before diverting her attention towards the cabin. Her hands fold over one another, and with her palms outstretched, the scarlet hue dances through the air in a thin, cloudy blanket, searching and finding the miniscule gap beneath the wooden door. 
  He pummels into you until your back pushes far into the mattress, eliciting sharp whines and sultry moans from your parted lips, breath caught in a pattern of shallow pants. He chases after his second high as he drives his cock deep into you, the sound of skin slapping skin perverts the cabin’s air and already you begin to feel your core tremble in its own pursuit for its fourth orgasm. With each powerful snap of his hips, his throat chokes out a grunt in his exertions, the girth of his cock sinks deep into the channel of your hot, velvety cunt. 
  “Fuckin’ hell,” he growls lowly with a hiss, “so fuckin’ tight! You feel so good, you’re— taking me so well.” 
  With an exceptionally powerful rut of his hips and he has you on the precipice of screaming, thighs quivering in their hold around his waist, heels digging into the dip of his large, muscular back. Any coherent thoughts and words die on the vine of your vocal cords, only able to procure sounds of pleasure, to chant his name over and over again. 
  “Captain Barnes!” you mewl with fervour. Bucky’s chest vibrates with a husky chuckle. “That’s right, scream my name, let the crew hear you, Love. Let them hear how drunk you are for my cock.” 
  His one palm is laced with sweat, thick and roughened fingers squeeze yours in a passionate display of his dark possessiveness over you. Your captain could be very jealous when another’s eyes lingered on you for even a second too long, many others had suffered the brunt of his fury - weapons ablaze - and you in the end suffered the brunt of his envy with his cock pounding into you for the next several hours. 
  To remind you to whom it was you belong to. 
  His lips suckle one of the erected peaks of your breasts, moaning as his tongue leaves a wet trail around it before passing over to the second to repeat the treatment. Your head turns to the side sharply when the head of his cock splits you open even further than you could previously imagine, hitting a hidden crevice that leaves you without breath. 
  He gauges your reaction, the colour of your eyes blurring, phasing between the natural milky white canvases and the hue of your disguise, your canines and incisors now elongated, all because of the pleasure that pools at the junction where your bodies meet. But for a moment, you catch the glimmer of gold still wrapped around his hand, glimmering metal gnawing and rubbing across his skin, you’re torn between your euphoria and clouded curiosity. 
  “Say it again,” he grunts with a hard thrust that makes his muscles ripple insanely beneath his skin.
  “C’mon, say it for your captain, Love.” 
  Your lips and tongue drag across the flesh of his wrist, the pulse of his racing heart beats through, you can almost taste the rhythm. His sweat tastes strong with his musk, a strong flavour of the salty sea, sandy beaches and gunpowder. 
  You moan softly, almost in a whisper, “Captain… C-Captain Barnes.”
  The effect you have on him is indescribable to him. Never has he been able to put it into words, all he can do is feel it; carnally. The repetitive pounding into that deeper and sweeter spot has your back arching up, the smooth layer of your sweat covered body rubs against his, able to feel each defining muscle, he uses his metal hand to grip hold of one of your thighs, angling you so that you’re spread further apart for him. Your eyes begin to fall heavy and roll back into your skull in your drunken haze, the shimmer of scarlet presently blooms from time to time in them.  
  “That’s right. You belong to me, little Siren. It’s my cock that has you dripping wet.” His thrusts become faster, losing the precise edge he had before, his climax inevitably as close as your own. Your nails embed crescent moons into the skin of his one hand while the other bites into his shoulder. 
  “I’m the only man— fuck! The only man who gets to have you like this. Shit… shit. ’M going to fill you up.” 
  “Please, please… Cap—”
  “Aye, I’m going to fill you up, have you nice ‘nd full until my cum is leaking out of your little cunt, Siren. Fuck… you want that, don’t you? I know you do.” 
  You gasp with each attempt to breathe, each push and pull of his cock strikes you like a match to light the powder keg, the explosion of your climaxes comes as a white hot flash in your vision, momentarily blinding you. Your hot walls squeeze around his large endowment, forcing him to thrust back and forth even harder, grunting hot breaths against the shell of your ear. 
  His seed is flushed into the channel of your pussy in thick, seething spurts that paint your walls that milk him for every precious drop. 
  What he gives makes your lower abdomen weigh a little heavier, a little bit fuller than you were before. His hips grow slower with each dissipating explosion from his tip. His large chest expands hugely with every intake of air to his lungs before deflating as a pleased groan. 
  In his reverie of contentment, having had his fill of his prize - for now - he withdraws his softening cock from your pussy, a moistened pop echoes in the emptiness of your thoughts. Bucky rolls off of you to lay at your side, atop the furs and silken drapes of the bed. Before you can make a move he uses his metal arm to drag you in closer, tucking you into his side, the coldness of his fingers skimming the delicate texture of your arm. 
  The soothing rock of the ship is enough to lull you to sleep, the lids of your eyes inching closer and closer together. 
  “Still deny that you found nothing?” 
  His question only brings your brows to knit together. You shake your head and huddle closer into his side, basking in the comforting warmth of his body. Why on earth would he ask you such a silly question? As if there was anything of importance that outranked him, by being at his side. 
  The answer you give is instant in its resolve, “I don’t understand, Captain. I needn’t find anything out there… I have you.” 
  Your answer, though unable to see it from your position, pleases him and his lips curl into a toothy smirk, long sweeps of his dark brown hair tousled about in his post sex state. You lay your head against his chest to hear the steady thrum of his heartbeat, eyes closing to seek rest and refuge in the arms of your beloved captain. The man that grants you safety, that promises you nights of passion followed by the comfort of his body next to yours. All he asks in return is your loyalty. Your devotion.
  For you to be his siren. 
  Behind the blurry curtain of sleep layered over your eyes, you awaken and by your estimation, only for around an hour or maybe a little more. The morn still hasn’t risen over the ocean’s horizon, the moonlight shimmering and shining over the waves. The candlelight that bathed the cabin with a sensual atmosphere had now burnt out. 
  Breaths of deepened sleep sound next to you, the chiselled sculpt of his chest you’d used as a pillow takes steady form, as he sleeps. It makes you wonder as to what he dreams about, sometimes a scowl is etched into his attractive visage and he becomes restless, leaving you to somehow comfort him. And other times, mostly after he’s spent drawing orgasm after orgasm from the two of you, he finds respite. 
  You take the time to thoroughly yet delicately rub your eyes, robbing the tiredness of its hold to take you once more. With a tilt of your head, hair coming over your shoulder to graze the top of your breasts, his other hand lay out over the bed, residing just over the edge. 
  The mysterious object that somehow you know is linked with you, but as to how or why, or its significance to you in any case, is still laced around his calloused palm. Despite its odd gleam of familiarity, you believe this is the first time you’ve seen it before, however, the tiny voice in the back of your mind says otherwise. Then you must have seen something like it before somewhere. 
  Something deep in the recess of your heart, you have to know. Is this somehow linked to the estranged longing to a home you can’t remember? Does this necklace bind you to the lost melody of times erased from your memory?
  You take caution in moving carefully, inching your way to lean over the sleeping form of your captain, skin brushing skin, you slowly rotate your hips and hoist a thigh over his waist. Heated crimson flushes into your cheeks as you analyse your newfound position, but also from the way his body stirs lightly, still enraptured by sleep yet his body adjusting to your core lining over his naval. 
  Thawed from your frozen idle of panic, you take a moment to calm the racing of your heart that hammers vigorously against your chest, your nimble fingers reach out towards his flesh hand that clings protectively to the mysterious necklace. 
  This almost feels… too easy. You swallow a silent gulp, fingers grazing against his palm when his body shifts, bumping up into yours, you pull your reach back so fast, your hand slaps against his ribs, doing your best to cover up your true intentions. His stills beneath you once more and your shoulders fall lax with a sigh of relief. 
  Again you dare another attempt to grab the necklace, this time you don’t risk breathing, holding it for what seems like forever until your lungs begin to swell with an ache that makes them feel like bubbles about to burst. 
  You work the chain until it's loosened and finally allow your held breath to escape you, the strain to remain silent proving far more difficult than you would have liked. The weight of your body shifts backwards, now sitting up, you allow your eyes to take in every detail of the object in your hands. The gold chain is light, ghostly as it graces your hands, your fingers lace and loop it around amidst the process of your conjuring thoughts. 
  Like a puppeteer pulling the strings you raise the necklace up by its precious thread. The pearl encaged by its makeshift net swings from side to side, as though even when you are completely still, it has a soul of its own accord. 
  Everything you knew about pearls is forfeit, the identity of this one brings the bevel between your brows to form in thoughtful wonder. Therein lies the piece of some puzzle, the missing notes to the melody to which you only recall the faint rhythm of the song. 
  It has to mean something of greater importance. But if it did, then why is your captain so adamant to dismiss your curious nature to find the answers?
  As if the pearl itself is the key, you hear within your heart and soul the song. Voices sing a tone that is calming to your senses, a sweet and endearing lullaby meant for you to hear whenever you find yourself in the loneliest of places, in the darkest reaches of the ocean, the connection will bring you somewhere you call home. 
  But your home is The Avenger. Aboard the ship with Captain Barnes. The man known as Bucky to his closest inner circle. So why do the voices mingling with the tide call you away from all that? With each passing second you become ensnared by the spell of the pearl, the voices of whom you somehow find solace in become louder, the softened chorus of their song echoes a hundred times over in your head. 
  Before you even give pause to reason, your own voice becomes paired with the orchestra of sirens. You have no words, and maybe you never did, all you did need is the pearl to help guide you in remembering the melody. The uncertainty of your humming eases, the unforeseen instructors aiding you, your voice is soft within its deep reverie when it all comes to an abrupt pause, a gasp severing the tune. 
  He has you by the wrist, fingers bruisingly tight and giving you no choice to pull away from him, as he often did whenever he saw you retreat from him without his say so. 
  Bucky’s eyes bear into yours, penetrating the barrier of the necklace, he stares you down the way a wolf does the lonely prey in its path. His eyes match the brooding darkness of a storm at sea, a breed of villainy that threatens those who dare to try him. 
  “Captain…” Your throat bobs with a nervous swallow.  “I– I wasn’t—” 
  Out of pure instinct to not tempt his fury, your hold on the necklace ceases and it gathers in the roughened pad of his palm, large thumb that has caressed your sensitive nub plenty of times now works against the spherical shape of the pearl, brows heavy in their judgement to assess your punishment. His movement is sudden upon the brink of your awareness, a sharp gasp that cuts into the tender muscle of your chest as he plants you flat on your back, hands both of flesh and metal pin your wrists on either side of you until the bruising ache becomes far too unbearable. But you do nothing to voice the level of your pain. He would not hear of it. His newly erected shaft ghosts over your entrance, the beginnings of your slick painting his already drooling tip.  “I’m beginning to think you like breaking my rules, Siren.”
THANKS FOR READING!
✎ a note from the author, Yes. Yes... YAAAAS! IM DOING IT! I'm frickin' writing a pirate Bucky! Mmmm! Fuckin' love pirate stuff, I'm just living for Bucky being a hot pirate commanding a vessel on the high seas.
on this issue's taglist, we've got: @identity2212 @sebastianstansqueen @openup-yourmind @kandis-mom @calwitch @cjand10 @ashdoctor @missmarvelophilic
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wyvernest · 3 months ago
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cregan stark x f!targaryen!reader
first part - previous part - all chapters list
>>Queen Rhaenyra has sent you away from the brewing war to safety since your brother, Jacaerys, has secured the Pact of Ice and Fire. You have to honor it by marrying Lord Cregan Stark, Warden of the North.
chapter cw: smut, fluff, ANGST, explicit description of a wound
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Wind's howling. The sea simmers with wrath and death.
The deck creaks and groans under you like an old beast waking from a decade-long sleep, bones cracking and jaws grinding with vengeance.
There is no crew, no captain. The ship is a wraith, and you, a speck of dust in the darkness.
You step towards the taffrail, looking down into the abyss. Terror washes over you, a raw instinct of deathly peril. Your heart thumps in your ears, and you feel the blood race through you.
Deep below, a wreckage drifts on the tides, carried by charred tongues of fallen beasts, licking its last life away. Atop, a small, frail creature, claws at the damp wood, drained and wounded.
Your throat tightens, a deeply rooted, dreamlike feeling of being bound to the creature rushes through you like wildfire. It tenses and crawls, its blood seeping into the black waters like a frozen breath leaving warm lungs for the last time.
The wind wails louder as you bend forward, seeking help, life, hope, with terror biting at your every sense. You slip over the ledge, and the void swallows you in your fall.
You awaken in your bed, the night barely pierced by the first lances of sunlight through the clouds. The fear slowly retreats, your breathing slowing down.
Cregan is still asleep next to you, lying on his stomach and facing away from you, his hair splayed messily over his shut eyes. You get up, quietly leaving his side to soothe yourself with cold water.
The castle is silent and imperturbable, a welcomed calmness following your nightly terrors. You walk like a ghost through the halls, lulled by the newfound safety, yet your mind is still imprisoned in thought.
Why would I even dream of such things? I cannot recall the last time I saw a ship, I cannot recall the last time I saw a storm at sea.
It is long past four moons since you first arrived in Winterfell, four moons since you last saw Dragonstone, your family, your brothers and sisters. The tenth day of the twelfth moon of 129 A.C. And for four moons, you haven't missed them nearly as much as now.
Perhaps it is the war, the news of Rhaenys, the murder, the unavoidable dread of death that knows no borders. Whatever it is, the dream shook you out of any serenity Cregan has struggled to settle in your heart.
“This is war. And the finality of death harrows even the toughest of men.”
But it was not the harrowing of your heart that woke you now. You would accept the night terrors every time you slept if it meant you could see your family alive and well again.
When you return to your chamber, Cregan shuffles to look at you, still lying down. He smiles, lazy and content, until he notices the strain between your brows, something you did not mean to bring back to him.
“My love?” He calles for you, but you push him back down before he could rise. You fall beside him, letting his warm hand cup your freshly washed cheek. “Did something happen?” His voice is still groggy with sleep, and the closure subdues your bleak worries.
“Just a dream.” You whisper, closing your eyes. His hand brushes over your hair lovingly.
“Tell me.” His hand moves to caress your back, pulling you closer to him.
“There is no need. All is good now.” But is it?
And yet you cast your worries aside when he drags you nearly under him, his free hand running over your waist and hip, dipping into the valley between your thighs. You cast your worries aside when you feel the coarse hair of his abdomen brush up against your belly.
Your mind goes numb when his massive body encompasses yours, as he breathes hotly into your neck, slipping himself inside you lazily; when he whispers to you of how he'll protect you, ah, love, you're mine own now, no harm will come to you.
But when his warmth leaves you, deep in the nights to come, the dreams find you again.
The second time they came with the same black waters, the drifting wreckage, but now shadows danced in the skies. Sinister serpents, prowling like enormous crows above a fresh cadaver. They pushed the clouds beneath them with behemothic wings, and you felt as though the whole night sky was coming down on you, in all its weight and darkness.
You dared look up once, up into the mirroring abyss. And then, you saw it. Through the gloom and mist, a ghost of a citadel atop a sunless hill. Perhaps there are many castles you may confound in such obscurity, but this was not one to be mistaken for something else.
Estrangement, guilt, it was, that claimed you in all these nights. A terrible shame, inexplicable for your position. You were sent North, you did not abandon your cause. But the creature in the sea bled every night, clung to the wreckage every night, and died every night.
It soon became an obsession. And weeks past, well near the end of the twelfth moon, your uneasiness bolts as Cregan receives another raven from Dragonstone.
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The flying shadows. - is your first thought upon reading. The serpents swarming the skies. Though the letter should soothe you, with the notion of the Blacks’ forces finally recuperating, all you see is the black sky in a cobweb of smoke and thunderclouds. You see them much clearer; your family’s dragons stalking above the seas like starving vultures.
A broad hand on your lower back makes you turn back to Cregan.
“Word of this reached me shortly before the raven arrived.” He admitted, referring to new riders. “Your brother waited until the last dragon was mounted to write to us, but the people have been spreading the news like the plague ever since he first called for willing men.”
An overwhelming feeling of helplessness muffles out his voice. It's all amounting to the dream.
“They have fighting dragons.”
“You have fighting dragons, beloved. I dared not believe it without his testimony.”
You force yourself to smile at him, laying your head on his collarbone, the message still in hand.
“This is wonderful news.”
He kisses your forehead, taking the small scroll away. You briefly rub your fingers in its loss, as if the news had burnt your very skin.
“I am glad to know that I was able to please you, as well.” He remarks smugly, his tone laced with the honest surprise of seeing your brother quite literally tell on you.
Sudden nervousness momentarily rips you from the illusions of your distress. You scrunch up your face, as if you hadn’t already given him your maidenhead.
“Few brides have the comfort of wedding handsome men. Fewer, able men, and even fewer kind men. But …” You trail off, taunting his patience. He gazes at you, eyes squinted, the corners of his mouth ever so slightly raised. Even as a wolf, he often times held the cunning gaze of a fox, which amused you to no end, for you know it was only reserved for you. How he had the talent of drawing you out of dark thoughts with nothing but a jest or a tease.
“Well, don’t stop now.” His voice went down an octave, now sly and intimate.
“But to gain all three …” You kiss his cheek, dangerously close to his mouth.
His arms wrap around you in response. “To find yourself next to a man so strong-” another kiss, on his jaw. “- so resourceful -” another, on his lips, but so hasty that he doesn’t catch it.
“ - and yet so considerate and gentle. You hard warriors have no idea how important that is.” You stop, softly pushing him away to speak, your tone masquerading a scold. “You think it’s enough to butcher away any foes and any peril. But after that…” a kiss on the bridge of his nose. He looks at you like you’re preaching the word of gods. “ - to be able to lie in his arms, to know that these hands, that bathe in blood to protect her, will only ever touch her to caress, to fondle, to hold so dearly.” Your voice spills into seriousness, and he heeds your confession.
“That is when she truly feels safe.” You smile at him, accentuating your discourse by playfully shaking him twice by his shoulders. “And to have that, is more than any woman bargains with the gods for.”
He kisses your face, the slyness faded from his eyes.
“...And I can’t say you don’t look the part.”
He giggles, and your heart beats a little faster.
“I did not yet have the chance to truly protect you, love.” He corrects, and your heart sinks at his humble words, or more so at the recollection of your worries. “I haven’t yet spilt blood for you. Trust that I will , should the occasion arise.” That was no longer a jest, you realise. “And afterwards …” He leans into you, and seeing you do nothing to flee, he kisses your neck. “I’ll hold you, however you want, wife.”
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Tonight you can barely shut your eyes without your heart thumping in your chest. After tossing and turning beside your husband, tiredness finally takes you and the visions creep over.
The nightsky rains with arrows. They snap and ring against the wooden shipwrecks like so many sharp teeth of jaws closing in on utter desolation.
Faceless, weightless, you step on the waters while the black wings dance and stalk restlessly, as the shafts hit the debris in a cacophony of wails, winds, tides crashing and roars of wrath.
And in this moment, it feels as though this cut is too deep even for time to mend. This place would never recover from such decay. Chaos has conquered the bay, irreversibly.
Death itself growls in the heavens above, blocking out the light of the moon. The sea heeds the call and drowns whatever escaped its claws, and the Red Keep stands still and cold and silent on the shores, an ill omen of rot and ruin.
The man on the rubble is dead. A snapped arrow coated in blood bore into his neck, the impact twisting his upper spine so unnaturally that he lies lifelessly atop the wreckage like a mayhem of boneless limbs discarded.
Only a hand quivers away in agony, the last semblance of a decapitated animal’s tremble.
You stomach turns.
Jacaerys!
You awaken in a sweat, with a shriek that rips Cregan from his slumber as well.
“ ‘S alright, come here, you're safe.” He cradles your still shivering hands to his chest, running a hand over your hair and back.
“ ‘m sorry.” You speak, muffled, remorseful and ashamed.
“It's no fault of yours.”
“...Cregan?”
You whisper, your limbs still tangled with each other. He hums, as attentive as he always is. The sun is just starting to show, and the dimness of the morning makes him look astonishingly beautiful.
“Would you do anything to shield me from pain?”
“ ‘course I would. What do you need of me?”
You hesitate. You know he would forbid you from fleeing, though you can not bring yourself to hide from your husband any longer. Whatever needs to be done, you ought to discuss it together.
“I need to fly South.”
There is a moment of complete silence. His face, for all you’ve grown to know, is now as impenetrable as The Wall. You cannot tell if you, indeed, sense anger or if it is only your expectations, for asking such a thing. You both get up as tension becomes unbearable.
“My men are already gathering at the White Harbour.” He speaks with patience and softness, understanding of your predicament, though stern and clearly unwavering. “In Barrowton.” He continues, “Roderick Dustin should be ready to march by week’s end. I-”
“ ‘Should’, and ‘by week’s end’…” You repeat to yourself in sorrow, too late releasing you quite rudely interrupted him. But the urgency of the issue can no longer afford gentleness nor much civility. “My family needs me, now. I dreamt of it, Cregan. You must believe me! And even if it’s wanton, even if the peril is still at bay, then I shall return safely. You mustn’t worry.”
“Wife.” His tone is demanding. It silences you, but deep in your heart you loathe him for it. You loathe him because of your dreams, because of the war, because greybeards can only ride so fast and so far, and will definitely not head for The Blackwater Bay.
“I have faith in your courage.” He begins, still holding you, yet the frost in his gaze is anew. “I do not doubt your loyalty. But as husband, I cannot allow you to risk such a thing. As warden, I cannot allow you to forsake the Queen’s command.”
“That’s your desire to protect me!” You speak hastily until your voice breaks, yet you go on. “What of me? How am I to live on knowing I could have saved someone so dear?! How am I to live with the remainder that I saw what would happen and did nothing?!”
“Dreams can be bad omens. But what if it was nothing more than a dream?” His voice escalates into the clear image of your demise in his mind. “What if you die for nothing? How would I live with that? Knowing I could have prevented it?”
“Cregan.” You brush an arm over his shoulder.
“I will say no more. You are not leaving Winterfell.” It is a command. And yet you hear him mumble, “I can’t lose you.”
Your heart sinks into your chest, and your throat tightens with unspoken pleas and cries.
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Fortunately for you, Cregan is a heavy sleeper. He was still off soundly when you roused, during the hour of the wolf.
He was still undisturbed when you gently kissed his cheek, as an apology and farewell. He was unmoved when you slipped out of bed, changed into riding skirts and threw chainmail over your chemise and underneath the leather cloak.
“Lady Stark.” A reverential voice echoes in the halls when you depart from your shared bedchamber. For a heartbeat, your blood freezes at the thought that Cregan might, at last, awaken because of it.
“I have orders from Lord Stark to ensure your safety. Allow me to accompany you.”
“Oh, there's no need. I only mean to clear my mind on the battlements.”
Before he could reply, you turn your back to him and stroll off to the winding stairs. Your footsteps feel heavy, heavier than your masked armour, heavier than the dagger at your belt.
The cold, high winds hit your face as you reach the top of the castle. The merlons thin out the howling of winter gusts, but the cold dread is no less horrifying.
“Māzīs! Aderī!” (Come! Quick!)
The Godswood shivers with the call, but it does not matter. No one in the yard could be fast enough to catch you now.
Soon enough, a high pitched shriek answers as a slithering, white ghost of a cloud emerges from behind the high walls of Winterfell.
The silence of the night wails, broken, as Suvion brings his wings down, and with one, two swings, he's landing atop the tower, his hawk claws scraping the stone.
He brings his head to you, slightly frenzied by your tone and distress.
His icy scales shine with the dampness of the snow he had been dousing in, and his sheer beauty in the moonlight soothes you. He has grown. His wings are stronger. The cold had hardened him, as it did me.
“Sister!”
You halt, right before mounting.
“Sara.”
“Off on a nightly prowl?” she jests, but the moment she comes closer, eyeing your attire, her playful smile fades.
“Tell Cregan” you hesitate, pondering, “-to tell the lords he sent me on a secret scouting mission.”
She frowns, disheartened, lost, confused. After a few beats of unbearable ache, she speaks, as icy as Cregan had.
“Did you loathe it all from the beginning?”
“Sara, I cannot-”
“Is this what you'd always hoped to do?”
It's not an accusation. It's forlornness. Betrayal, and the grief of it.
“If I don't go, I will carry this burden with me for the rest of my life.”
She remains silent, but even Suvion twitches at the sound of her soft weep. You mount, shivering, with the cold, with regret, with doubt and fear, and guilt.
“If I do not return by the new moon's end, I loved him. Tell him I loved him. Tell him it's not his fault.”
With nothing but the sound of his wings, Suvion takes off from the tower.
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a/n: that was quite the chapter
@ohsnapitzmarvelficrec @crypticlxrsh @louiselouve @karmaswitch @just-pure-trash @yujyujj @cost234 @dracaryxzs @cherrymallowtm @lady-targaryens-world @lightdragonrayne @krokietino @sukunassfinger @ithilwen-blackwood @rey26 @beebeechaos @melsunshine @aemondwhoresworld @romeavecryst @raynetargaryan2 @fireandblood-mharmie @mitski9328373 @drwho-ess @dorkysupernova @nitimurinvetitumsposts @ghitakhnifissa @darylspersonalwhore @helo1281917 @delaynew @poochies04 @accidentpronedork @fiction-fanfic-reader @rha3nyra @wallacewillow0773638 @star-serpent @potionsclub @moadvx @jellybeanstacey0519 @italianchameleon @ephemeralninon @sithapprentice @cloveradora @hawkins-2000 @thatspiderwebinthecorner @wolvestitches @idohknow @nyxbranwenn @asteria33 @nina6708 @r-3dlips
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bucketsofmonsters · 1 year ago
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Deep Water - Part 1
cw: the ocean, talk of being drowned, water inhalation, more tags to be added as the story continues
merman x fem reader
Word count: 3k
read on ao3
Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5
You peeked out a small porthole, a rarity on this kind of ship. You couldn’t decide if you were grateful for it or not as your stomach churned looking out at choppy waters. 
You’d never been particularly comfortable with the ocean. It wasn’t that you disliked it, far from it. You just had a healthy fear of it. 
Right now, it felt like anyone who didn’t was a fool. 
As you looked down at swirling black water, swearing you saw something snake around just far enough under the surface that you couldn’t make it out, that fear felt very reasonable. 
It wasn’t only fear that consumed you when you looked out at that churning water. There was awe in there too, as you looked at the seemingly infinite abyss below you. 
But not enough awe that you wouldn’t keep yourself as far away from it as you could. 
But that was the problem. Fate had thrusted you right into deep waters and you’d had no choice in the matter. 
So there you were, stowed away on a transport ship, tucked amongst boxes of spices and herbs and expensive teas that you’d never get to try. 
At least your hidden little corner smelled good, some of the herbal scents escaping their carefully packed boxes. 
You sat back down behind them, trying to put the thought of the turbulent waters under a few thin layers of wood out of your mind as the waves rocked you back and forth at a sickening pace, never quite stabilizing enough to be able to fall into a rhythm, refusing to be tuned out or ignored. 
You pulled your shawl tighter around you, though it was no use. The chill of the ship had long since set itself into your bones. 
You closed your eyes and tried to tell if it was raining or if it was just the darkness of the night blanketing the ocean. The sounds of the waves roared above anything else. You decided it wasn’t, more for your own peace of mind than anything. You didn’t need water coming at you from any more directions.
As you sat, curled up on the floor trying to focus on anything other than the deafening crashing of the waves, a new sound caught your attention. The door creaked open and as footsteps approached you, you held your breath. 
They’d caught you on an exhale and sooner than you would’ve liked, you had to sneak a tiny breath of air. Nothing noticeable, surely. Not through the sounds of crashing water. 
And then the ship slammed to the side, a massive wave sending the ground tilting under your feet.
The boxes slid as the ship wretched and you went with them, slamming into the opposite wall of the ship.  
The sailor cursed as he pushed his way out from behind the boxes that had slid right into him. You scrambled to push yourself away, to obscure yourself in any way possible. You didn’t have time to stand but maybe you could hide yourself just far enough away in the dark that he wouldn’t see you. 
You weren’t fast enough. 
His hand snaked out to grab your leg, ending your desperate scramble to get away before it had even really begun. 
“No wonder we got stuck in this god-awful storm, found our bad luck charm right here.”
You kicked at him, trying to struggle, to get away, to run. But where was there to go? They knew you were here now, it was over. You were at their mercy. 
The pleading started as soon as it sunk in, desperate promises that you wouldn’t cause any trouble, that it was only a day until they docked, you could stay out of their way, they wouldn’t even notice you. 
Rain poured down on your face as you were dragged above deck. 
Part of you was aware of the talk that began to arise as the others caught sight of you. You couldn’t focus on anything other than getting away, trying with everything you had to run. 
Despite that, you were pulled closer and closer to the edge of the ship. The rain got saltier and through the dark and endless storm, you realized you were at the edge of the ship, briny water splashing over the sides and hitting you in the face. 
You doubled your attempts of escape as you looked down on the dark waters, not sure where you would go if you escaped but certain that anything was better than being pulled closer and closer to the inky waters. 
“This is your own fault,” one of them yelled over the storm, directed at you this time.
“Please,” you called out, “Please let me stay. I’ll do anything.”
It was an ill-advised promise, especially to make to a ship full of sailors, but you could not be thrown overboard. You’d even prefer one of them ending you here and now, with your feet still standing on the wood of the deck.
Anything but being thrown off, your lungs filling with the churning, black water below you. 
“You should have thought of that before you stowed away,” the man to your left said, with what sounded almost like a chuckle. You hoped you’d imagined it amongst the rest of the endless noise. 
It was hard to know exactly what was happening. The waves were roaring and you could hardly see or hear anything. 
One second your feet were thrashing, fighting to land a blow on any of the men near you, and the next you were underwater. If you thought gathering your bearings was hard on the ship, it was impossible down here. It must be nearby but you had no idea where the ship could be. You fought to stay afloat despite knowing exactly how this would end. There was nothing else to it now. You’d landed in your cold, wet grave. The waves forced you under again and again and no matter how you tried to time your breaths, you couldn’t escape the burn of the saltwater sneaking into your lungs. 
Just as you’d breached the surface again, attempting to cough up some water before heaving in another deadly breath, something yanked at your foot and you were pulled under the waves once more. Your scream was drowned out by the ocean, eyes fighting to open despite the sting of the seawater. 
As you opened your eyes, you realized it was calmer under the water. You were no longer trying to fight the wishes of the waves to pull you down and the ocean rewarded you with a moment of clarity. 
The rockiest part was near the surface, where the rain still beat down on the water. You were being pulled further and further away, so far down that the last rays of sun from behind the clouds could barely reach. 
You’d expected to see a shark or some other ocean creature as you’d felt that tug on your leg. Instead, you found a face staring back at yours. He looked curious, taking you in as you stared dumbfounded back at him. 
Before you had a chance to process what you were seeing, the man who’d just pulled you under the waves leaned forward and kissed you. It wasn’t a long kiss, ending before you even fully realized it began. 
He pulled away and your lungs began to burn, pleading for oxygen. You tried to swim up for air but he grabbed your arm and yanked you down again. Then you caught a glimpse of something below him, the limited light reflecting off of a shimmering tail.
You gasped in water, your lungs unable to hold out any longer. Instead of choking on the ocean water filling your chest, you felt like you were gasping in air. You knew it was water, the texture was different than the air was, but as you heaved in water, you discovered you could breathe. 
He was smirking at you, the smugness evident in his face. 
He let go of your arm, having proved his point and you stayed under, filling your lungs while glancing up at the rocky surface. 
Suddenly, you were being pulled along again, under the stormy water. You didn’t have the strength to fight him, letting him take you wherever he wanted. 
It wasn’t long before you were being pushed into shallow water. You could feel the sand barely a few feet under the water and eagerly moved towards dry land. 
You pulled yourself up onto the warm sand. The rain had disappeared entirely, the sun shining above you once more. You sucked in air, falling to your back as you basked in the warmth. Off in the distance, you could see the storm still swirling. You’d traveled much further than you’d thought. The feeling of the sun shining down on you was more than welcome and some wretched part of you hoped those sailors were still in that accursed storm. 
As soon as you got your first breath of oxygen, it was like your lungs remembered that water wasn't supposed to be inside of them. You started coughing up the salty water onto the shore, gasping like you’d been drowning the whole time and just hadn’t realized it yet. 
You saw your savior wince as you hacked up the seawater. “Sorry, didn’t know that would happen.”
You stared up at him incredulously as your breathing finally slowed. “Aren't sirens supposed to drown humans?”
His eyes narrowed at you above the water. “Aren’t humans supposed to be grateful when you save them?”
Fair enough. “Thank you. I don’t really understand why you saved me but thank you.”
You laid back on the sand, inevitably getting it in your hair but too exhausted to mind. The warmth was welcome after the freezing cold water. 
You took him in from your new vantage point, eyes darting instinctively to his tail. It was a pearlescent thing, the complex shimmering shifting above his white scales. Just above it was a set of gills that he kept below the water as he lay there, staring up at you on the shore. His face wasn’t unpleasant, something almost impish about it. A smattering of scales sat on his cheekbones right under eyes that were tinted orange. His hair was shaggy and pale, dragged down to his shoulders by the water that saturated it. 
“We do drown people sometimes,” he said quietly, like he was working it out for himself and you just happened to be overhearing it. “I was planning on going after your ship but it didn’t feel like a fair fight after they threw you off like that.” 
“Humans didn’t want me, sirens didn’t even want to drown me.” You couldn’t help but laugh.
“I can… I can drown you if you want?” he said, mouth barely above the water as he spoke. 
“Maybe some other time. Where even are we?” you asked, looking around at the small patch of sand. It was a relatively barren little island, a few rocky tidepools on the other side of it the most exciting thing present on the small stretch of land.
“Just a little island nearby. I figured you’d want to get some rest before I took you anywhere. Why’d they throw you overboard anyway?”
“I was a stowaway,” you explained. “I needed to get somewhere and didn’t have any other way to travel. They found me mid storm and women are bad luck so off I went.”
“I can take you there if you want. Where the ship was going, I mean. I know all their routes. I won’t even drown you.”
Who would have guessed that the sailors would try to drown you and then you’d have a siren promising to bring you ashore? It was like the world had turned upside down. 
“Thank you so much,” you said, hoping it could both convey your gratitude and keep him on your good side long enough to successfully get you to your destination.
“Also, we should wait until night, I’ll take you back then okay?” He sounded very insistent, despite you having no idea why. 
You were honestly worried you might freeze to death if you left at night. “How about in the morning?”
“Yeah, okay.”
He waited eagerly, watching the sun set. It was refreshing, being able to see it clearly after locking yourself below deck for so long. When it finally dipped below the horizon, he turned to you. “Watch this.” 
His tail flicked excitedly behind him, a light glow starting to reflect off of the scales on his bottom half. 
As he ran his hands quickly through the water, you were able to make it out better. The water lit up a light blue as he moved. 
You couldn’t help the smile that crossed your face, your eyes going wide with wonder. “Oh my god, that’s incredible.”
“Isn’t it? It’s why I like this island so much, it’s so strong here. It’s a bunch of tiny plants in the water that are glowing, I thought you’d like it.”
How could you not? You’d never seen anything like it in your life, it almost looked like the water was alight with a blue flame. 
You could feel your siren’s eyes on you as you moved your hand back and forth in the water. 
“Are you less sad now?” he asked and your movement slowed at his question. 
“What?”
“You were upset, did I fix it?”
Was that what he was trying to do? “Why do you care?”
He shrugged. “Not often I get to talk to you guys, our encounters are usually less pleasant than this. We’re kind of similar, you know. Sailors don’t like me either.”
“Small world.”
Eventually, you abandoned the glowing water, as amazing as it was, in an attempt to rest. You knew you needed to get some sleep. You were exhausted but it was cold and you never fully dried off and you were absolutely miserable. You heard a shuffling in the sand and then a warm hand touched your side. You didn’t know how his body regulated his temperature so well in the cold water. His arms were open, a clear invitation to nestle into him
You hesitated and he spoke. “You seem like you could use the warmth.”
You moved towards him, head settling on his chest as his arms wrapped around you.
“I thought fish were cold-blooded,” you said as his arms rubbed up and down yours, immediately sending a wave of heat through you.
“I’m only half fish.”
“Is that how you can breathe out here?” you asked, looking at the trail he left in the sand as he dragged himself ashore.
He murmured in the affirmative, leaning back to make sure you could comfortably lie down against him. He was right, his body heat did help. There was also something comforting about leaning against him, his arms wrapped around you protectively. 
You drifted off faster than you would have thought possible while soaking wet and cuddled up with a fish man. 
When you woke up, you glanced at the boy next to you. He really did look silly on the land like this, flopped over on his side. As you took him in, you stared at his gills right over where you assumed his ribs would be. You knew what he had told you last night but he looked too peaceful and still. You quickly nudged him awake, wanting to make sure he was alright out of the water like this.
He rubbed his eyes, moving slightly in the sand in an attempt to get a good look at you. “What do you want?”
“Just wanted to make sure you were still breathing.”
“Mmhmm, still breathing, can I go back to sleep now?”
He tried to roll over, tail flopping helplessly behind him, and you nudged him again. “Don’t we need to leave?”
He squinted up at your face, which you knew was creased with worry, and his demeanor softened. “Yeah, let’s get you home.”
You didn’t bother to correct him about where you were going, instead helping him back into the water. He pulled you in after him, looking back at you as he did, clearly deep in thought.
“You know how I kissed you yesterday?” he finally asked. 
“To make me breathe underwater? Yeah, I do.”
“It would be much easier to transport you if you could breathe underwater again.”
It was the most roundabout way anyone had ever asked to kiss you before, that was for sure. 
He seemed nervous about it so instead of letting him dwell on it, you just kissed him. You hoped there were no other rules to the kiss you needed to follow but your siren didn’t seem to mind, instead leaning into it. It was kind of nice, being the one to surprise him this time. 
You knew the kiss didn’t have to be long, the one from the day before had barely lasted a moment, and yet you lingered. His hand hesitantly rose to cup your cheek, his touch featherlight. He wasn’t holding you there but his touch begged you to stay just a second longer. 
He looked almost frightened when you pulled away, eyes wide and hand still outstretched. 
“Will that work?” you asked.
He cleared his throat, still looking dazed. “Yeah, that should be fine. Come on.”
Even knowing that you’d be fine and you’d be able to breathe, it took forever to will yourself to inhale after he pulled you into the water, waiting until the last second before you passed out, when your body forced breathing on you. 
The journey felt much faster than it should have been. You couldn’t have been zooming through the water for more than an hour when you were being pulled to the surface once more, your feet extending to find rocks beneath you. 
You turned and your eyes met the shore, the dock looming above you. You guessed you’d probably beat the ship here. Who knows if they’d made it at all, maybe the storm had taken them out. Part of you hoped it had. 
He grinned up at you as you stood, still lying below you in the water. “This is your stop.”
You had no idea how to thank him. What did one even say to someone who had just saved your life? 
“Thank you,” you managed. “If you ever need anything…”
If he ever needed anything what? You couldn’t imagine he’d have a particularly easy time finding you. 
He seemed to understand your meaning anyway. “I’ll be sure to ask. And if you ever change your mind on the drowning thing, let me know.”
You couldn’t help but giggle. “Will do.”
You settled on the shore, the rocks shifting beneath you as you sat, and you watched your siren swim off, one last shimmer of pale scales flashing before he disappeared into the waves.
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merbear25 · 2 months ago
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Hello! Glad to see requests are open! Seeing that may I get a small thing for Zoro, Law and Mihawk. I've been having the idea of a devil fruit user reader falling into the water and needing rescuing (I'm very aware Law is also a devil fruit user but that just gives extra angst does it not). Hurt/comfort of course
Hello! Thanks for sending this in. I decided to change it a little for Law's, but I hope you like it anyway 💜💜
Even with precautions set in place, the sea was where the unexpected could happen. Whether a storm, sea monster, or battle taking place, the threat of the water was something you could never escape. Luckily, those closest to you were always prepared to protect.
CW: SFW, gn!reader, can be read as platonic or romantic, hurt/comfort, angst, fluff, headcanons/scenarios, reader is a devil fruit user
If you went overboard… (Zoro, Law, Mihawk)
Zoro: He’d always been protective over those closest to him, so you were no exception. Though never overbearing, he still kept an eye on you. During times of peril, he kept you in arm's length as often as he could. You were capable—strong in your own right. However, there were dangers that automatically made you far more vulnerable. 
That day’s waters were vicious. The waves cascading over the railings gave no sign of the storm letting up. One wrong step was all it took to send you hurtling overboard. A shriek that pierced even during the hurricane-like winds sent the other hearts onboard plummeting.
Their cries for you weren’t accompanied by Zoro’s, but his action traveled faster than their worried calls. Before your limp body had the chance to sink much lower than the surface, he was there, diving in after you.
He was never short of prepared. Even when taking one of many naps, being aware of his surroundings never faltered. 
A watchful eye on everything and everyone, his friends being the ones calling for actions guided by the heart.
He wasn’t one to hound others on things they were already aware of. The unexpected should be expected, and that meant there’d be times when you were made vulnerable and in need of help, just like all the others.
Law: The sea gave no pardons to anyone. Your devil fruit abilities came with a burden that at times felt more like a curse. The calm waters the Polar Tang was cutting through turned dark as the daytime sky transformed into night. With night came more blind spots because of the abyss inevitably closing in.
A sudden wack against the side sent some of the crew members to the floor. Books flew off the shelves and the alarm sounded through the metal rooms. Red lights that blinked in urgency left split seconds of total darkness in your room. Another slam caused you to trip and miss the door handle.
Water started spouting through the cracks, and with each attack against the submarine the cracks grew in size. Your cries for help were quickly silenced by the rising water. The cold ocean held you in a tight embrace against your bedroom floor, yet offering no comfort. An immediate drop outside your room jolted you awake.
It would come as second nature. No thought, just action. You were one of the few who he considered close to him.
Rescuing you, no matter how often, came with some lectures, though. Even if it wasn’t entirely your fault, he mostly did it as a way of expressing his fear of losing someone he cared about again.
Thorough check-ups after such shocks to the system were given, even if you protested saying you were just fine.
Mihawk: Holding the title of the greatest swordsman marked him and anyone close to him as a target. The bullseye seen by the world was drifting casually through the seas, catching the rays of that day’s sun. The rippling water from an approaching ship didn’t even cause him to open his eyes. He was still enjoying the warmth of the sun, but with the supposed enemy drawing nearer, he was left with no choice but to give them even a fraction of his attention.
The captain baited Mihawk, wanting to see the swordsman’s raw power for himself, even if that meant putting his crew’s lives in jeopardy. However, Mihawk wasn’t known for being temperamental, which many of these hecklers seemed to forget. A smooth swing of his sword and their ships sank to pits of the ocean floor.
When a shot was fired at you, the bullet was sliced in mid air. Though you hung around someone whose composure didn’t break, you flinched enough for the both of you. A motion back one step too far was all it took for you to lose your footing and slip into the shackles bound to you by the devil fruit. His challengers were swatted like the pests they were before he dove in after you.
Even his lectures were articulated like advice, which you accepted without protest.
He’d insist on giving you training to help you control these impulses, albeit natural, were life threatening in the wrong situations.
That being said, he obviously knew that once you were overboard, you required his full attention. He simply wanted to offer you assistance to prevent this from happening more frequently.
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diejager · 9 months ago
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Hi! I got the notification that your requests are open skjsjsjs so exciting, can you do something about the noodle dragon with Monster!Task Force 141 please? That would be all, thank you and have a nice day! ❤️✨
Cw: canon-typical violence, weird water magic, weird dragon/monster shit and lore, death, crash, tell me if I missed any.
They’d gotten used to you over the month, watching you prance around them like a graceful panther in hunt, stalking around them with that cheeky smile of yours and a clawed hand always ready to patch someone up. You were a might dragon, a warm to some classifications and an Asian one to others, but the consensus was that you weren’t one to be trifled with —as most dragons were, but if anything, you were so a feline in a body of a dragon than the ferocious monster you were. Always prowling and on guard, watchful and observant, aware of the events transpiring around you like a protective cat.
They took well to you, forgoing the paranoia and apprehension at your eagerness to help them and you openness, your long tail, hard scales protecting the thick cords of sinewy muscles curled ever so softly around them, and the tuff of fur tickling any naked piece of skin. And however tender and soft-hearted you were, they’d seen the dangerous part of you, the draconic one with a strange affinity to water rather than the destructive fire they were so familiar with. Whereas Price was a chaotic force, burning everything on his path and leaving nothing but cinder and ash, you were an unmoving force of water, a typhoon and cyclone that would crash the land and leave broken pieces of what remained, cold and drowned —the calm before the storm as people said, a perfect imagery of you.
Yet there was a lingering suspicion that it was all, that there was a more monstrous part of you hidden away from their eyes. Horangi had shared such thoughts - another mythical creature of sacredness and nobility - and showed them what hehad heard of eastern dragons: giant snake-like creatures with the faces of lions and crowns of graceful antlers, born with lustrous manes and hard but flexible scales that let them dance and twirl as they wished it. Destructive beauty, Horangihad mumbled, a creature who’s image is drawn to represent beauty and nobility. 
They knew, they were fully aware, that you had more to show, yet they couldn’t hold back the awe and amazement that followed the gut-deep fear and worry after they saw you fall, your figure shrinking as you plummeted into the dark and silent ocean, gone into the wide, open sea. Rather than seeing your head pop out, gasping for air while they clung to their straps and helicopter, Nikolai screaming through the comma about holding onto something, swirling left and right to avoid being hit a second time by the war ship, it was calm, a smooth plain growing in darkness, a shape forming beneath the veil of a blue ocean. 
Then, before they knew it, a majestic serpent erupted from the sea, wet scales gleaming under the sun while you rose into the sky in a spiral, white fur floating like you hadn’t just come out of water. You were swift, curling in the air, your magicworking it’s wonder when you flew, stubby arms and legs moving as if you were swimming, looping around them to shield them from being narrowly hit. It was as Horangi gushed, water rose and fell with you, tendrils of salty water reaching out to curl around you, rising high to swarm the enemy ship the same way you did, circling around it until it was left submerged, swallowed up by your hydromancy. You had drowned warship in the depth of the abyss, a dark and cold pit that promised a lonely death, forgotten and painful. You had caused the deaths of hundreds with a twirling dance, an alluring, yet deadly show, like an oleander.
You made no show of joining them in the aircraft, keeping your distance from them, adequate enough to protect them from further damage without becoming a danger to them. They - especially Price, since he had never seen an eastern dragon, only from files and catalogues - gawked, gazing at your head-sized eye, blinking owlishly at them with a narrowed eyes, slitted pupil gleaming with glee at their admiration. You purred, a growling rumble that shook your gills, a deep sound shuddering through them like thunder, low and booming, but it was a happy sound, meant to comfort them from the near sinking that you’d saved them from.
Even in this situation, where they’d been saved by you, you were still trying to comfort them and reassure them despite having taken a hit or two. They were glad Laswell found you.
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