#I wouldn’t be surprised if I was a mermaid in my past life
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khaleesi-rose · 1 year ago
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how I would love to live as a siren in my next life
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sapphires-and-sirens · 6 months ago
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Withdrawals (pt. 1)
This is chapter three of my Haikyuu siren au. Info and other chapters can be found here!
No summary <3
Keiji was fuming. Suguru had just left because he was upset that Keiji was right. And he’d been gone for the past fucking week. Tooru wasn’t talking to him, and neither was Osamu, or Atsumu, or Sakusa, or anyone except for Koutarou because they wanted him to say he’d been in the wrong.
He hadn’t! He’d just been worried and trying to talk some sense into the Keyholder!
“You were a bit harsh, Keiji,” Koutarou pointed out, his tone ever-gentle.
“That seems to be all he listens to.”
“You blamed him for how Yuuji was treating him. That wasn’t right.”
“Well, I didn’t mean that part, but he still shouldn’t have run away. He knows I’m right and he knows I’m just trying to do what’s best for him.”
“He’ll come back.”
“He can stay there, for all I care.”
“You don’t mean that.”
“Well, everyone’s upset with me over stuff I didn’t mean, so.”
“Because you won’t just admit that you shouldn’t have said any of it,” the Bottom Feeder said gently. It still pissed him off. “I know you’re worried and upset but still…”
“I hate him! He’s doing all this stupid stuff and he knows it’s stupid and he does it anyway!! It’s not fair that he can do that! And make everyone fucking worried, and then just run away from the problem back to the problem!!”
“I know. He has to make his own decisions though.”
“He shouldn’t be allowed to!”
“How else will he learn?”
He hissed, running his hands through his hair.
Fuck, being a friend was so complicated.
Kyoutani chittered a laugh at something Yuuji had said. Kunimi and Kindaichi were busy spouting backhanded compliments and questions at Suguru.
He’d been living with Yuuji for around two weeks. He missed his friends, but Yuuji looked at him so lovingly.
Yuuji wanted him when the others didn’t.
“You know, I’m surprised he hasn’t run away again,” Kunimi commented, earning a nod from Kindaichi.
He was getting pissed off, though, at Yuuji’s friends.
“Nono, I was the one in the wrong last time. He was right to leave,” Yuuji cut in, surprisingly.
“That isn’t what you said when—“
A growl of warning exited the blonde’s mouth immediately.
“Whatever,” Kunimi muttered, rolling his eyes.
“So, are you staying around for good?”
“Well, I should probably go home at some point…”
Yuuji’s eyes darkened at that.
“But I’ll still come around a whole lot.”
Some light returned to the mermaid’s eyes, but not enough. Oh well, Suguru would probably be able to cheer him up, later.
Maybe he finally had gotten through to the mermaid.
Maybe he finally had changed.
It had been two whole weeks and Suguru was still missing. But that wasn’t the Keyholder’s fault. It was Iwaizumi’s fault for taking the argument entirely too far. If he hadn’t gotten involved, Suguru wouldn’t have run away. And of course, if that damn guppy hadn’t had him trained, he wouldn’t have run straight to Terushima.
He honestly hoped that the blonde got taken by a Seeker ship. And Iwaizumi could blame himself for the rest of his fucking life.
Keiji would’ve gotten through to him, if it wasn’t for those two.
And the others still weren’t talking to him. It was beyond petty and beyond stupid.
Whatever. They’d talk to him once they realized he was right.
“Yuuji, I’ll come see you a lot, I just wanna go home. I miss everyone,” he said, fighting the urge to be frustrated. His wrist was throbbing where the blonde had grabbed him and wrenched him closer when they started arguing, but that was his own fault.
“If you don’t wanna be around me, just say it.”
“I do, but I have friends, and I wanna see them again. It’s been a month!”
“Whatever. Go, then.”
“What, I can’t have friends anymore, Yuuji?”
“I didn’t say that. Go, get out.”
Dammit.
“I’m sorry,” he said, and he hated how it sounded like he was begging.
“I’m not even fucking mad, just go,” Yuuji hissed, refusing to look at him. “Come back whenever.”
“I love you,” he mumbled, starting to the door.
“Mhm.”
And now Yuuji didn’t want him either.
It had been a month, and Keiji finally realized that what he said was absolutely fucked.
What was wrong with him? Why had he said that? They were all right to be avoiding him. He’d avoid himself, if he were them. He apologized to everyone, and they all looked more relieved than angry.
They should be angry. Why weren’t they?
Then Suguru came home, and started crying the moment he laid eyes on Keiji. He couldn’t help reflexively opening his arms, the overwhelming instinct to comfort overriding his guilt, and the Keyholder swam straight into his embrace and squeezed him tight. He squeezed back, shushing every apology that the other said.
Eventually, Daishou could speak again.
“Sorry for uhm, leaving.”
“It’s okay, I uh…I get why. I’m sorry for saying all that.”
“Me too,” Iwa chimed in. “Sorry. I went entirely too far.”
“No, it’s okay. I missed you guys.”
“Awww, we missed you too,” Oikawa said, playfully hitting the other Keyholder, who flinched slightly.
That was weird.
Oh well. He was back now. Everything was fine.
Previous chapter
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tsunagite · 1 year ago
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Lyrith stood in front of Poseidon’s apartment. Raising her hand and clenching her first, she knocks loudly on the door. No response.
”Poseidon, are you there?” She shouted. No response again. She furrowed her eyebrows in confusion, as she recalls that Poseidon mentioned that they didn’t have anything planned and was staying home.
She decides to try the doorknob, not really expecting it to be unlocked, and yet… it turns all the way, allowing her to push the door open. This only made Lyrith even more confused as Poseidon wasn’t the type to forget to lock their doors… She does start to become worried for them, as she steps inside into their apartment.
Closing the door behind her, she squints her eyes as she tries to see through the dark. As her eyes adjusts, had just noticed that… man, there are a lot of books and papers on the ground. It seems like Poseidon may have been studying something…? She shuffles past them, careful to not accidentally step on paper nor knocking over any of the book piles.
Glancing at a few of the covers, they were mostly books about various water creatures or transmutation spells. Or the failure thereof. As for the papers, a lot of them she couldn’t read, mostly because the handwriting is that of chicken scratch. But she does recognize that’s it’s undoubtedly Poseidon’s handwriting.
This only adds to Lyrith’s confusion of “what happened to Poseidon?” But just as she thinks that, she distantly hears the splashing of water.
Her body freezes up. Shit, was Poseidon actually fine, just in their bathroom?! While that seemed like the logical thought, something makes her doubt that. Especially with seeing all the books and papers. Granted, Poseidon had always admire the sea, but transmutation spells…?
There was some bad thoughts that came to mind. Subconsciously, she walks over towards the hallway where she heard the movement of water. And sure enough, at the end of the hallway, was a door that was closed but not fully. Allowing the light from the room to seep through the cracks. And past that, Lyrith continues to hear subtle movements of water.
She does get a bit of cold feet, thinking, ’what if Poseidon really is just taking a bath?’ But decides it’s better to be safe than sorry.
Approaching the door until she’s right in front of it, she calls out, “Poseidon? Are you there?”
The water movements became still for moment. “Not my name, but someone is here.” A female voice replied.
Lyrith just has “??????” going in her mind. Reaching for the doorknob, she opens the door quickly, being met with… someone she doesn’t recognize, who’s seemingly a mermaid, sitting in a filled bathtub. Who only looked mildly surprise at her outburst.
”My, I didn’t expect Poseidon to know anyone else. Unless you’re some kind of stalker, of course~” The mermaid simply said.
The sight only gave Lyrith more questions than answers. Taking a deep breathe, she stared right at them. “Okay, who are you?” She asked.
They swayed their head side to side. “That’s my question as well. I’m referred to as ”WATER”.” They replied.
I’m lazy to write the rest properly :’D
Lyrith introduces herself, stating that she’s just a friend Poseidon‘s. Explaining that the reason she’s here is bc she hasn’t been able to contact Poseidon. Believing that they probably have been actively ignoring her. WATER only looks at her in confusion, mentioning that Poseidon barely seemed like they had a social life.
While she does internally laugh at the blunt comment, she does ask… on why a mermaid such as themself are here, stuck in a small bathtub, in the middle of a city? And not, y’know, in the sea?
WATER just shrugs, answering that Poseidon said to them, “That wouldn’t be a good idea.”
Because, in truth, WATER was never intended to be a mermaid. It was an accident. Even though WATER won’t give the full details, Lyrith is still horrified by the implications. Though, WATER tells her to calm down, telling her that she holds no grudge against Poseidon. Lyrith asks why that is, with WATER only smiling and saying.
”I do not mind it.”
Lyrith is confused by the vague statement, as the eyebags that WATER has give the impression that she isn’t, but if she says so…
Somethin somethin, Poseidon comes back to their apartment and is horrified that Lyrith let herself in, but she’s about to throw hands with them. WATER calms them down, they chat, but Lyrith wasn’t able to get any new info.
Bringing up the “mermaid stuck in an apartment” situation, Poseidon didn’t want to let WATER go. Something about fixing the mistake. But eventually Lyrith does get an idea for a middle ground: Go somewhere else that‘s more suitable for a mermaid that Poseidon can do their research or whatever. She states that she had a place in mind-
Chronicle Metropolis. She has a few friends there (*cough* other LeaF songs) that she can call in a favor. CM most likely has the resources to maybe be able to house both of them.
Poseidon was still hesitant on the idea of moving, but WATER does insist that a bathtub isn’t the most comfortable, so they relent.
(I still need to tie-in MOBILYS and Miracle Forest but that’s for later. For now, here’s how these three ended up in CM :^))
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n-noochi · 2 years ago
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LIQUOR AND COMPANY
Pairing: Kishibe/Female Reader
Summary: Warm, almost timid lighting for the eyes; an alluring smell of smoke for the nose; and finally, the welcoming taste of alcohol on each tongue. An old fashioned bar is where you found yourself, a shabby establishment you would say. You had only hoped that Kishibe hadn't stood you up again like he had done many times in the past, this was important to you. And time was not so limitless for you. To think of the devil means to resurrect them, and Kishibe was there for company, and you think you'll stay for one more drink for the night.
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A/N: PART ONE - PART TWO - PART FOUR (TBA)
(updated) this is part THREE of my mermaid devil mini series. i am currently working on part one and part four. however, this oneshot can sit well as it's own thing.
i will updated the links as time goes on. please enjoy!
WORD COUNT // 2,158 words
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Death was always just the next step in your warped mind. For a long time, mainly throughout your childhood, you daydreamed about your death and wondered constantly about what happens after the end. The thoughts started after the Gun Devil massacre. After your two siblings and many others died. Everyone thought like that though during that time.
Before their deaths, you never thought about the end of life, or what happened after the flower decayed. All you knew, as a ten-year-old child, was that after all those people bled, it was hell on earth. Many lost their faith, many children like yourself lost faith, and the future generation was stuck living a life that was lost.
In your teen years, near the end of high school, you came to a solution; to what exactly happened after death. Hell, nothing. Endless nothingness. That is what you saw as utter peace. Why care about anything if, at the end of every story, there was just nothing?
You thought that for a long time. Until one day you saw a beam of light in a solemnly dark well, a light that never stopped shining for you. And now that solution has shifted.
Death was still empty and meaningless but that beam was absent. You are self-aware enough to realize this. That when you died Beam, your partner, would have it hard, and you would be alone in death yet again with regrets you didn’t understand. He was your only regret in death.
The building you found yourself currently residing in was zippy. Warm, almost timid lighting for the eyes; an alluring smell of smoke for the nose; and finally, the welcoming taste of alcohol on each tongue. An old-fashioned bar is where you found yourself, a shabby establishment you would say.
You had only hoped that Kishibe hadn't stood you up again like he had done many times in the past. This was important to you and time was not so limitless for you.
To think of the devil means to resurrect them, and Kishibe was there for company, and you think you'll stay for one more drink for the night.
A shabby establishment, the bar was, you would say. The rustic brick walls looked and felt almost as rough as the stool cushions. You wouldn’t have been surprised if they hadn’t been washed. The cushions probably have been placed in the seats longer than you had been alive.
The building itself smelled as if the building was on fire. If this bar had fire detectors they would go off constantly due to the cloud of smoke surrounding the area.
You walked past an assortment of drunk chumps on your journey to the secluded area of the bar top. You didn’t bother to respond or turn a glance at any who spoke to you. All your mind wondered was if he came, and of course how pissed you'd be if he didn’t show up.
You stop in your step, halting beside a seated, lone man.
“You actually came, eh Kishibe?” You rested your hand inside your trench coat pockets, looking down at the man who hadn't raised a glance at you.
“Don’t you go feeling special. Just a good excuse to go out drinking,” he stated as he downed the last of his liquor, emptying the glass. “Better than drinking out alone,” he uttered, before finally bothering to look at you, the person who invited him here.
Kishibe shamelessly eyed you down for a moment; you weren't wearing your devil-hunter attire like he was. You wore a beige cami top, it was blatantly strapless despite the trench coat you wore. The brown trench covered your shoulders and absorbed the smoke in the air.
He brought his eyes back to your face, where he found your eyes boring into his eyes, searching for his soul. Kishibe, as insolent as he is, stared back into your void of a gaze and spouted his thoughts, “and you’re not too bad of a sight.”
Your eyes narrowed further. He’s just as you remembered, and you aren’t saying it was a good thing. “Oh shaddup, would ya? I’m not interested in old men,” you barked.
You took the seat beside the rugged man. “Whiskey on the rocks,” you shouted from your spot. “Please?"
The bartender grumbled and nodded before beginning to cook up your drink. Alongside your drink he began wordlessly refilling Kishibes. Making it known that Kishibe is regular at the establishment, you observed.
To think of the devil means to resurrect them, as Kishibe speaks right after your thought. “I heard you signed a new contract,” he said, “with the Curse devil.”
You didn’t deny it. “Yeah, that I did. ‘Tis no secret or jest.”
Kishibe digs through his large overcoat as he responds lazily. “Don't that breaks the contract between you and the Mermaid Devil?” he surmised.
If looks could kill, Kishibe would likely have you in a chokehold before that. Feels like he knows too much about your contract with that damn filthy devil. He was the one who recommended you talk up a contract with that devil when you first started out due to the advantage it would give you over your peers. You remember thinking he was going to come with you, hoping he would, scared.
Though the bastard never showed up.
That’s one of the many reasons why you always think he’s gonna stand you up. Despite that occurrence now being a little over four years ago.
“Why be faithful to a devil? That devil ain’t my spouse.”
The bartender slid you your glass of whiskey, ice giggling inside, sounding like wind chimes.
Kishibe removed a box of unopened cigarettes and he shrugged. “You’re not the committed type anyway.”
“Yeah? Well neither are you, Kishibe.” You brought the cup of whiskey to your lips and took a sharp sip.
Smoke then encased your front vision.
You turn to find Kishibe now smoking a cigarette from a brand you didn’t know, leaning back in his seat. He stared up at the ceiling, the cigarette hanging from his scared mouth. “The Shark fiend,” he muttered in seemingly no direction. Yet everything he said was directed.
“Fiends partnering with devil hunters. What a buncha comedic shit. Funny you got talked into it.”
He crudely placed his elbow on the bar top and grabbed his filled cup of rum. “By that Makima I bet.”
You dodged his statement. Aiming to avoid his morbid interest in your partnership with Beam. “Did you read my email fully or not?” you blocked.
You surely weren't here for chatter, you need a favor, it’s important. You took another sharp sip to ease your creeping nerves.
He narrowed his eyes at you, removing the cigarette bud from his mouth to take a swig. “I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t read it, wouldn’t you think?”
Kishibe drowned his mouth, drinking damn near half of the liquor in his glass. “Haven’t talked in four years and you’re asking for favors. The audacity of devil hunters these days,” he grumbled, whipping his face.
It had indeed been four years since you and Kishibe were acquainted. It wasn’t as if back then you both were hanging out on a daily basis, it was just that Kishibe was the only devil hunter you knew. He had trained you and after you were sent to do your own thing you and Kishibe used to drink together once every few weeks. Not much nowadays.
The last few years you’ve isolated yourself until Makima partnered you with Beam and a glimmer of light absorbed you from the inside out. “I’d become an alcoholic if I hung with you too much. I keep a safe distance.”
In response, Kishibe dryly chuckled.
A silence absorbed the both of you, the sound of drunk patrons and ice hitting glass hitting your ears.
You bring the glass of whiskey and artlessly place your elbow on the bar top beside Kishibe's crudely placed elbow. How romantic, you thought sarcastically.
“I haven’t told my partner about my new contract,” you said out of the blue, to slowly build on to your request.
“The fiend, eh? Why would you even bother?” Kishibes cup was empty again, and as he spoke smoke eagerly escaped. His side profile was sharp, scraggly facial hair showed and the stitched scar ran across his left cheek from his mouth declaring its presence.
The man was older than you, but that wasn’t why you respected him. You respected him…because he himself embodied life as which cynically you saw it: life's cruel joke.
“I need a favor. Only one,” you said.
Kishibe’s eyes did not shift from anticipation nor surprise. He knew why you were here and was just waiting for you to spit it out. “Hurry up and shoot it.”
After a second you state your favor, allowing yourself to be…somewhat vulnerable. Perhaps it's the little liquor in you. “I want Beam to be taken care of after I die. I don’t want him suffering when I’m gone,” you state openly.
Kishibe’s silence and lack of response intoxicated you with anticipation. He did not blink, or really move, his eyes were still in thought. Smoke covered the dimmed lighted area where you both found yourselves that night.
“…You’ve gotten soft over a fiend,” he surmised. “That’s surprising, especially for you.”
Not the response you wanted. You wanted a sufficient yes or no. Your eyebrows bunch and you unthinkingly lean closer to the man. “Oh shaddup, would ya? Yes or no?”
Kishibe still didn’t give you the response you wanted and just went to lit up another cigarette, burning out the former one at the same time. “How much longer d’ya got?”
He caught on. You were telling him you were going to die just like every other devil hunter he ever drank with.
He kept his gaze on the burning cigarette in hand then exhaled the smoke within him.
Your silence ran on until hitting the finish line, where you confirmed his assumption. “…The Curse devil said not long. A month or so.”
The ice in your whiskey had melted, decayed, sorta like how your life was dissolving by the day till some unknown fate.
“I see,” Kishibe muttered.
He didn’t make eye contact, staring down at his foggy, empty glass. “And your last desire is for me to help this fiend?” he added. He was straight on point. You liked that.
The thought of Beam fluttered your heart. You wondered what he was doing now. Probably sleeping in his room at your apartment. If your bosses knew you left Beam alone in your home you’d surely get in trouble but you trusted Beam, you cared for him.
“Beam’s all I care for and my only regret when I die.” Kishibe didn’t speak, yet he did not interrupt you. “I want him to experience a wave of life, even without me,” you rambled.
He stopped you. “Don’t go expecting me to die or get fired for a fiend.” Kishibe at that moment did not understand your relationship with Beam. He just threw it out the window and thought you had officially gone mad. However, he accepted your request. He’d at the very least try to help you, but like he said he isn’t going to extremes for you.
At his confirmation, you placed your cheek in the palm of your hand, elbow on the bar table.
The dainty light from above hovered over both your hinged souls that lingered too close. “Sure, bud. Just don’t go telling people this, bastard,” you taunted, dryly.
Kishibe didn’t break a sweat, nor show a reaction at the lack of distance between you or your gaze on his side profile. He won’t be swooned by a girl. “I would if I cared enough to. Your business doesn’t interest me,” he mumbled.
You hadn’t caught what he said, too busy removing the cigarette hanging from his mouth and taking a swing, a string of smoke evaded your throat.
Kishibe watches nonchalantly as you lean back into the rough stools and cover the area in smoke. “Try not to get addicted,” he jested, sarcastically.
You handed him his cigarette back, not breaking your gaze from his slanted eyes. He proceeded to take a swing of the cigarette also. An indirect kiss.
You watched him as he had watched you. “I think I'll stay for another cup of this liquor,” you suggest, nibbling your bottom lip, awaiting your turn for another buzz of nicotine.
Kishibe’s dark eyes stayed on yours as he passed you the cigarette, smoke then clouding your face for a second, blocking your view of the man. His hand faintly touches yours as you take the cigarette from his grasp.
“I think I’ll stay for the company,” he voiced.
…The night was young and death was forgotten and disregarded for a faint moment in time. Tomorrow is when reality will actually sink in its knives.
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© N-NOOCHI 2023 - All rights are reserved to noochi. Do not repost, copy, change/modify, plagiarise, translate or screenshot my work: this will also include not reposting my writing on other social media platforms and writing platforms.
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higaneruthyll · 25 days ago
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LIV
SSR DMG/Healing - Ice Adiutrix Troupe position: Conductor Play: Birthday: November 7 Join date: 1 month Race: Mermaid Hometown: South Sea Alias: Ice Spring
Outfit:
Weapon:
Skills:
Awaken:
Voicelines:
Lamb Tea Party dialogue:
Liv: Good day. Did I keep you waiting, Director? I don’t come here very often, so it took a while for me to find the way. The lighting of this room is great. Sunlight shines through like the ocean current coming from the south. I hope you don’t mind me asking, but what is that look on your face supposed to mean? Hehe. Didn’t expect you would accept the invitation. +600 Liv: Huh? Do you think I am a geek who doesn’t have a social life? It seems I have been mistaken as a strange woman… We will have plenty of opportunities in the future. You may try inviting me more often. I get excited when I imagine the surprised and jealous look on the troupe members’ faces. You caught my attention with the ocean current analogy. Interesting. +800 Liv: After all, the memories of my home are carved in my mind and impossible to sweep away. Even now, my skin is still as chilly as the cold current that flows past my home. Of course, you can give it a touch and remember the cold. It is the only gift I can give you.
Director: I heard Black talk about you rehearsing a new song. How did it go? Liv: Thank you for asking. The rehearsal went well. And the rookies “came in handy”. But there is one thing, I’ve been creating new songs, and I could really use your opinions and advice. How about fantasy? I think that’s your forte. +600 Liv: Did Black tell you this? Hmm, the look on your face is saying yes. Unfortunately, no. Did that disappoint you? Indeed. I haven’t created fantasy for so long. I missed the days when I weaved together wild imagination and romantic melodies. Heh. Director: Then what is your forte, Liv? Liv: It’s a secret. But when there comes a time when we must part ways, I will play my favourite song for you. How about you try creating a waltz? +600 Liv: I guess I don’t mind giving that a try. It has been two months since we organised a ball. I miss the good time. Speaking of which, you have never invited me to a dance before, Director. It seems I’ll have to be the one asking. My dearest Director, would you give me the honour to dance with you? But of course, we’ll have to wait until the next ball for that to happen. Also, I really hate it when people don’t give me the answer I am waiting for. Just let your creativity run wild. The troupe will be your solid backing. +800 Liv: It does sound like the answer you would give. This isn't much of a surprise. But to be honest, there are simply not enough music performers in our troupe. You should put in the effort to help us recruit more talent. After all, you wouldn’t want to ruin our performance because the music couldn’t keep up, would you? Hehe.
Liv: Since you helped me solve my little trouble, I have to give you something in return. You don’t have to turn down my offer so quickly. What about you tell me about your expectations first? Actually, we are all curious about the singing voice of a mermaid. +600 Liv: Let’s see here. You are the 101st person to make such a request. Would you like to know what happened to all the others before you? Director: Is it too late to withdraw that request now?… Liv: There is no turning back, so yes, it's too late. They all died. Just like the legend says, sailors drown in the mermaids' singing voices. So, would you like to drown in my singing voice too…? I hope that you will enjoy all the tea parties in the future. +800 Liv: … I didn’t expect you to say that. A long time ago, many people would pray to the witches living under the sea. Their wishes were noble and beautiful. However, none of them were willing to offer up the equivalent price. I will do my best to help you fulfil that wish. With your heart pounding and your mind racing, one day I will collect the price from you for fulfilling that wish.
Personality:
History:
Relationships:
Personal Story:
Liv turns down an invitation to music composition for the next Gopher Troupe play, as well as complaining about the plot. The Director turns up to talk to her about it. The play in question is The Little Mermaid and Liv criticises it for accuracy to actual mermaids, as well as telling the Director that a human needs to be underwater to hear a mermaid’s love songs. WIP.
Chats:
Letter:
I hope everything is going well, Director. I decided to accept you and Black’s invitation and board this ship. I thought I would get the chance to meet you. Well, that is the intention why I’m writing this letter to you anyway. I must admit. I was a little in shock when I received an invitation from Black. It was intriguing why such a carefree music artist would accept a long-term job. I’ll level with you. I boarded the ship because I wanted answers. But you weren’t there, and the others couldn’t stop talking about you. It was almost like someone had put an enchanting spell on them. And if that was true, I would very much look forward to meeting you. Before I lose my interest in this case, I will do my best to help this troupe with its performance, including band rehearsal. Of course, I hope there is some sort of band here. So far, I have only managed to find Black. And if Black was the only person, that would be all the more reason for us to meet.
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welcometothevale · 2 years ago
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Myra hadn’t known what she’d expected him to say as he broke from the dream and came back to the waking world, but it hadn’t been that. He’d tasted her blood? When? She hadn’t noticed him ever having a chance too, and the idea kind of skeeved her out. “Oh well, uh,” For one of the first times in her life, she was left speechless.
“No need to get all weird about emotions. We had ours trained out of us, but we won’t judge you for being haunted by your past. You’ve been through something I wouldn’t have made it through.” When had Myra gotten so good with comforting people she didn’t know well? She was better at protecting people from danger than protecting them from their feelings. Finally at the last blood comment, Myra shifted awkwardly-not a feeling Myra really ever felt-and only said, “I didn’t know mermaids drank blood. The more you know.”
She backed out of the car, giving him space. “Come on, when you’ve recovered, we need to walk for a little while to find a motel far enough away from this one. We can’t go back to my apartment because they could already be waiting there. I wouldn’t be surprised if they don’t know who I am and anything they could find on me. Granted I didn’t technically exist on paper until after I was 18 and left school, there is enough out there now to connect to me.” She didn’t use her real name for anything, but she still couldn’t be too careful. “Sorry we still haven’t gotten you shoes, getting away without being seen has been the mission here.”
@avereyeus
Bo had disappeared 6 weeks ago. It had taken that long for Myra to find the trail and follow it to San Diego. Myra hadn’t expected to find it was a private lab that had taken Bo and not some nest of vampires. It was almost a relief, if it wasn’t so unsettling that humans may be kidnapping dhampirs. The 25 year old half vampire, fully loaded with all her favorite weapons: a wooden stake on her thigh (just in case there were vampires after all), a small sized sickle on her right hip (a joke based on her reputation within the vampire community. Dea Tacita goddess of death), a small hand gun in a holster on her waist, and a few small daggers, just in case. 
It was dark, unfortunately she had to do this at night for stealth, and she approached the building quickly and confidently sticking to the shadows. She wore all black; black hoodie with the hood covering her mane of dark curls, black leather pants, and black combat boots. It wasn’t long before she had the lock picked, this obviously wasn’t a very wealthy, well known, or high tech lab. Lucky for her. What made her feel better as she silently walked the halls, wary of any guards or workers, was that there weren’t many people in any of the glass cages. She did pass one larger container that had a pool of dark water in it, the lights in the cage off. She thought she saw something moving in the water but couldn’t be sure. Myra soldiered on. Eventually they found their friend. No words were said, they knew they had to be silent to avoid any attention. The brunette eventually figured out how to get the cage open and unfortunately it was shooting the lock. They had less than five minutes to get out, Myra was guessing. 
They hurried back the way the young dhampir had came from, quickly skidding to a halt when Myra’s amber eyes landed on what looked like the shape of a man in the dark pool they’d passed before. 
“We can’t leave anyone here, it would be cruel.” Bo pointed out.
“I know, I know. Just...be lookout and don’t get caught again.” Myra quickly shot through this lock as well and entered the cage, not even considering for a moment that this creature could be hostile. 
“Uh, hey, hopefully you speak English or this is going to be even more complicated, but lets go. Unless this is like a Hilton for you and you love it. Doesn’t look that nice though.” Myra pointed behind them with their thumb. “I’m Myra by the way. You can thank me kindly with a drink when I get you out of here.” 
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riotkayla · 2 years ago
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Finding the Truth: part two
Part One 
Synopsis: A week after the shocking surprise in the parking lot, you and Eddie are now seeing each other for the first time in three years. Dustin and Eddie bicker over what to buy for the occasion. 
TW/Warnings: Use of F-word, angst, fluff if you squint
Likes, Comments, and Reblogs are welcome! Please do not copy my work for your own or I will hunt you down :)
Gif not mine!
not edited bc I didn't have time, just trying to write while the muse is still here 
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For seven days Eddie poured over pictures from Dustin and Wayne, memorizing how she looked at every moment of her life. He was in love with her and didn't even know her yet. But he did, he knew everything about her. Knew that she didn’t want to drink from a bottle for the first year of her life, loved the color green, and was basically a fish the past summer. 
Dustin called you on day four, not letting you know that Eddie was back in town and listening to the conversation. You answered on the second ring, “Hello?” breathless as the sound of a tantrum took over the background. 
“Sorry it’s Dusty- should I call back?” Eddie glared at the white receiver clutched in his friend's hand, willing you to say no. Hearing your voice for the first time hit hard. The breath was knocked from his lungs and he could picture you standing in the kitchen, barefoot most likely,  with the phone cradled between your shoulder and ear watching your daughter let out her emotions. 
You sighed, “No, it’s fine. She’s been like this all day. I took her pacifier away last night and she is not happy.” Eddie can hear the frown you’re wearing on the other side. 
“Oh well...” Dustin paused and looked at Eddie. “I have a surprise for you and Will. Wanna come over...” Eddie mouthed ‘Saturday’ to Dustin trying to stay quiet,  “Saturday to come see it?” 
“Uh..” you were craning your neck to look at the calendar on the wall. No one noticed how quiet the background had gotten, “Yeah Saturday is good. I can be there for dinner?” 
“Good, don’t forget to bring Willow over!”
“I won't Henderson,” you chuckled over the line. There was a loud crash and then a cry. “Oh shit, lemme call you back. Will just knocked something off the wall-” and the line went dead. 
------- 
It was a strange sight to see. Eddie Munson stooped down on the Barbie aisle of a Walmart close to Hawkins, looking for anything that screamed ‘I’m sorry I didn't know you existed this whole time but I love you.’ The pink clashed with his all-black outfit, making him stick out like a sore thumb. It didn't help that Dustin was hovering over him chastising every item he picked up. 
“No you can't get that one- she got three mermaid barbies for her birthday this year,” Eddie let out a very dramatic sigh and sat the plastic box down, turning to his friend. 
“If you don't shut up-” he threatened the kid. “I’m gonna shove a mermaid doll up your ass,” 
“Dude,” Dustin waved his hand around, his voice coming out as a whisper. “Not in front of the Barbies!” 
Eddie pinched the bridge of his nose. They had been up and down the aisle three times, each toy he picked up Dustin shot down. It was either a duplicate of one, had too many choking pieces, or she would never touch it. Why did he have to have the most spoiled and picky kid in all of Indiana? He was about to give up when he spotted it. A pink little electric guitar, the perfect toy for a rockstar’s kid. Eddie reached up to the top shelf it was hidden on and pulled it down, showing the item off to Dustin. “s’pretty metal, right?” 
“I don’t know how metal a plastic guitar with Barbie’s face is but sure,” Dustin shrugged. He wouldn't tell him that Wayne got her that last Christmas.  “She’ll love it.” He was pretty sure it was collecting dust in the corner of Eddie’s old closet at the trailer. 
----- 
You weren’t sure what to expect Saturday when you pulled up to the Henderson household. Dustin had been living by himself for over a year now but did he really know how to cook? It was usually you who did the cooking and planning events for the small group of people. Willow sat on your hip, face snuggled up to the crook of your neck as you waited for Dustin to answer the front door. 
The white front door creaked open, the face of Will’s “dusty-bun” greeting them with a grin that didn't reach his eyes. ”Hey hey hey there’s my favorite girl!”  He was hiding something- you recognized the look when he played with Eddie in Hellfire all those years ago. You raised an eyebrow at him as he reached to take the squirmy toddler from your grasp. “C’mon in. Dinner is almost done.” 
“Dusty,” Willow squirmed when they walked into the living room, the pink guitar propped up in a chair. “s’that mines?” You were hit with the aroma of Italian cooking, the commotion in the kitchen distracting you from the toy. Dustin let her down and she scurried over to the chair, fingers tracing over the picture of Barbie on the hard plastic. 
“Steve here?” You ask, dropping your car keys on the coffee table and heading towards the intoxicating aroma of cooked garlic. Dustin was right on your heels, hand tugging on the sleeve of your jacket making you halt. “What?” 
“Before you go in there I just want you to know I tried really, really hard to keep this a secret. Like really hard but he knows how to crack me,” You furrowed your eyebrows, the sound of footfalls on the carpeted section making you turn. 
Eddie stood in the door, a hand towel thrown over his shoulder and dark eyes looking you up and down. “Hey bug,” he offered, the old pet name rolling off his tongue with ease. Your eyes took him in, ripped black jeans, a black fitted tee, your engagement ring hanging from the chain around his neck. 
Your breath caught in your throat, and for a split second, it was just the two of you. Had the circumstances been different this could have been just another normal day for the two of you. Dustin’s presence brought them back to their heartbreaking reality. 
“Eddie?” You finally turned to Dustin with a groan. “You told him about Willow?” 
“I figured it out on my own,” You turned back to face him, already feeling the walls you had built over the years starting to crack. At this moment the world-famous rockstar was just a guy. A guy who just found out he was a dad. Eddie seemed smaller standing in the doorway, eyes apologetic. “Saw your mom with her last week and I just had this gut feeling when she looked at me.” 
Your eyes were locked on Eddie but his were locked on the small kid peaking from behind the couch- two sets of identical eyes focused on each other. Slowly he kneeled down to be the same height as her, an inviting smile dancing across his rosy lips. “Hi I’m Eddie,” he murmured to the girl, offering her a hand. 
“I know,” Willow quips, cocking her head to the side and moving towards the male. “Gwandpa Wayne tells me stowies ‘bout you.” Dustin wrapped an around your shoulder, both of you taking in the scene. Willow moves cautiously to her dad, a little hand outstretched and ready to play with the long curls as soon as she's in reach. Eddie’s eyes look up at you waiting on a confirmation. You nod, knowing that you wouldn't be able to keep her away from him anymore. 
Eddie pulls Willow into a hug, the child instinctively nuzzling her face into the crook of his neck and wrapping her little arms around his neck. She knew from the moment she saw him in the parking lot that day who he was. Wayne had spent countless hours telling her stories about dear old dad and what he was doing out in the world. Pictures of Eddie sat against the wall along with newspaper clippings about his band. Willow had grown up knowing her dad was a rockstar. Eddie kissed the top of her head, breathing in the scent of strawberry shampoo and the familiar scent of you. 
“Well I really hate to break up this moment but, is dinner ready?” Dustin asked, squeezing your side with a smile. You shook your head, peeling yourself from his side and moving into the kitchen to see what Eddie had attempted to cook. Dustin stayed in his spot, watching Eddie interact with Willow. 
You were busy setting the table, placing porcelain plates loaded down with spaghetti into the chairs when Eddie came into the room. The sounds of Dustin and Willow playing with the toy guitar floated from the other room. 
“Hey,” it came from you softly, afraid that talking any louder would break the moment and the past would rear its ugly head back at the two of you. 
“Hi,” Eddie’s fingers drummed against the tabletop, a nervous habit he had since middle school. “So.. we have a kid- s’fucking crazy.”
“Yeah it is,” you wrapped your arms around yourself, knowing good and well that you would reach for Eddie if you didn't. The moment was intoxicatingly domestic, something you had been yearning for over the years. “Are you mad?” 
“At first, yeah. Almost knocked the shit outta Henderson when I came over last week but, uhh,” he rubbed the back of his neck, another nervous habit. “After I found out more about her I just wanted to meet her. She’s fucking perfect Bug.” 
“Yeah, at least we did one thing right,” you turn away from him, moving to the counter to cut up the pieces of spaghetti for Willow to eat. You had thought about reaching out sometimes when Wayne had her for the weekend, but how does someone casually drop a bomb like that over an international call? 
Your back was still turned to him, a fork cutting noodles and meatballs into smaller sections when Eddie moved from his spot to be closer to you. “Can we talk more about this later? Maybe Uncle Dusty can watch her tomorrow?” He was in your personal space, hand pressing into the small of your back. You searched his eyes for any trace of mischief but there was nothing joking in his gaze. 
“Yeah, we can get lunch tomorrow?” 
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lord-explosion-baku · 4 years ago
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Trident Tale part 2
Mermaid!Shinsou x reader x Kirishima x reader
Warnings: adult themes (minors DNI)
Author’s note: sorry to those of you who have asked me to put on the tag list! I don’t do tag lists! But if you don’t want to lose this story, you can always bookmark it on AO3.
Part 1 || Part 2 || Part 3
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Original image by @maewoahoah
Moving to an island where everyone is big on the surf scene and other oceanic happenings might not have been the brightest idea for someone so afraid of anything that has to do with water, but you make do by spending your days looking after the Bed & Breakfast, trying not to burn the house down when you fry a few eggs, and obsessively scrolling through Eijirou Kirishima’s social media page. He’ll never notice you, and you think you’re fine with that, until a mysterious force washes into Ms. Shuzenji’s pool after a particularly nasty storm.
Hitoshi Shinsou is a pain in the ass from the get-go, but you put up with him, fins and all, when he promises he can help unite you with your soulmate. The catch? The fish is hellbent on taking back what was stolen from him, and he won’t lift a gracious finger until he gets what he came for.
You’re helpless to lend him a hand, so long as you stay dry. Unless, of course, he has other plans.
You know how the saying goes: you rub his fins, he’ll rub yours.
The thing about being hungry is that you can sometimes convince yourself that you’re full. You can sip water, swallow your breath, pop a few mints in—hell, you could even pretend to eat. However, even if you might trick your brain, your stomach will still be empty.
By the time you finally get some real goddamn food in your stomach, it will be aching from being teased.
It feels like this is exactly what Hitoshi Shinsou has done to you. Teased you. He’d mentioned being one of Ryūjin, which you can only assume is something religious or magic. You know he’s a fish, and that he makes people’s skin glow when he touches them, and apparently his lips or his saliva can heal wounds. But he’s not yet given you any real goddamn food.
The jerk has been swimming circles around the pool, commenting on how disgusting it is being stuck with all the trash, and complaining about your poor hospitality, but has not yet told you what the hell he’s doing here.
It’s not like you ever asked for some creature to crash into Ms. Shuzenji’s pool. Maybe some people would be ecstatic over finding an actual merperson, but life isn’t all about singing songs and talking to seagulls. He’s definitely not an Ariel, unless he is in fact looking for a prince. With all his sass, you think he’s much more of an Ursula than a Disney princess. If he is a sea-witch, he refuses to tell you.
It won’t matter much by the time Denki gets here anyways. You had been honest when you said you wouldn’t put it against him to call some news station when he sees Hitoshi. You figure that after some science lab’s helicopters carried your intruder away to run tests on him, the fish-man will be out of your hair and a thing of the past.
Despite the cynicism crawling through your head, the thought actually makes a guilty pit form in the bottom of your stomach. A life is a life, afterall.
“At least tell me why you tried to…to…” Your mouth flattens when you recall Hitoshi leaning into you, his lips a whisper away from yours.
“To?” Hitoshi asks while he observes the wayward bra that blew into the pool with notable repulsion.
“To kiss me!” You bark out, ears warm.
“Oh, that?” He purses his lips, spinning the bra around in the water. Then, he’s contemplative for a moment, as if he’s thinking of an excuse that won’t make you angry. Or will. He seems to get a kick out of frustrating you.
“I suppose I should’ve considered that it’s not a social norm for humans to greet other humans with their lips,” he says with a cocky, probably lying smirk. “My bad.”
“You expect me to believe that mermaids kiss each other to say hello?”
“Not a mermaid.” The fish is all teeth as he regards you. “I’m one of Ryūjin. And I’d like to think that you’d believe anything I tell you, since you seem to know nothing about my people.”
“Because you won’t tell me anything about your people,” you mutter right before the house bell rings. Your heart jumps with a spike of panic. You haven’t thought about what you’re going to say to Denki yet. You begin thinking about science labs again, and that knot in your stomach tightens.
“Okay,” you say in a warning tone, “I’m gonna let Denki in now…”
“Uh-huh.”
“He’s gonna see you…”
“That’s the plan.” Hitoshi lifts a brow. “You’re not worried for me, are you?”
“I just think you should be more worried about yourself,” you say. “Humans aren’t…” There’s a pensive pause when you try to search for the right word. “Humans aren’t good.”
“Would you say that you’re a good human?” He asks.
What a question. You’d like to believe that you are, but you can’t kid yourself. Never one to be very self-sacrificing, you utter your next words with confidence. “Nope.”
“And yet, you haven’t done anything malicious towards me. Nothing, besides that half-assed attempt to kick me away from you, anyways.”
Rolling your eyes to keep your couldn’t-care-less facade up, you left the smirking merman to wade around in the murky pool. There’s not another second to think about what you could possibly say to Denki about your surprise guest, because when you enter the house, you see his face peeking through the side window next to the front door. You could see a drink holder and a Tiki Burger bag in his hand. His smile is bright, while yours is grim.
He pouts, seeing through forced body language, and proceeds to make a funny face. You let out a half-sigh, half-laugh. You might not be a good person, but Denki is. He’s an idiot, but you don’t think he’d ever do anything to harm another creature, mythical or not. This could even be fun to him. Exciting. Something extraordinary happened, and you’d been too scared to react to it appropriately, but Denki would be different.
Your changing emotions grow palpable when you finally reach for the handle.
“Heard you had some thingies that needed twisting,” Denki says as you open the door. He’s wearing his company’s shirt, a brown thing with the PoolPros logo on it, though it’s cut raggedly short to show off his midriff. He’s been particularly confident ever since he’d gotten his navel pierced, and happily showed off the topaz stone that Kirishima had given him. It hangs right above his buckle. It forces onlookers to look at his abs…or maybe his groin. He says it’s lucky, and you haven’t argued with him about it. You would probably call something Kirishima gave you lucky too.
In a flash, you’re grabbing him by his shirt collar and guiding him in and against one of the hall mirrors.
“Something’s happened.” The words immediately spill out, even while you still do not know what you’re going to say. You hope that if the right things tumble out of your mouth, Denki will get the picture.
“Uh…” Denki’s cheeks are red hot, reacting to your close proximity. “Was it a spike in your libido?”
God.
“No, shut up!” You smack his chest and glance down the hall towards the back door. The pool isn’t in your line of vision, but just knowing what lurks there gets your blood pumping. “This is going to sound crazy, but I need you to keep an open mind.”
He bobs his brows. “For you? Always.”
After an exhale, you gather your composure, and tell Denki everything with as much eloquence as you can muster.
“There’s something living in the pool!” You bark out, erratic. “It’s big and it has zero impulse control and it’s rude! It talks! When it touches me, my skin glows. Then it tried to kiss me, Kaminari! And it’s rude!” You add that in again, because you cannot stress it enough. Hitoshi Shinsou is as unrefined as a piece of driftwood, and he had the audacity to make comments on behalf of your decorum. “It won’t tell me what it’s doing here, either. I offered to get it back into the ocean, but it said it wanted something else, but it won’t tell me what, and I don’t know what to do!”
Denki blinks rapidly, like his eyelashes are repelling every word you toss at him. There’s a beat, he swallows, then his lips tilt up into a knowing grin.
“Alright,” he says, “I see you.”
“You do?” Maybe you had to give Denki a little more credit. That hadn’t been your best description of a nightmare scenario.
“Sure do, little lady. This is some kinda belated birthday prank, huh? Thought you could slide one past me when I was least expecting it! I was thinking that maybe you just forgot about it, but now you’ve got something up your sleeve, don’t ya! Well cutie, I might be dumb, but I’m not stupid!”
Striding into the house, Denki places the shakes and burger bag onto Shuzenji’s kitchen counter. Shoulders deflating, you follow him while he fishes a few fries out of the bag. If he doesn’t get it now, he will soon enough.
“What could it be?” He ponders, tossing a fry into his mouth. He nods towards one of the cups and mumbles about a shake for you, then towards the back door. “Couldn’t be a party—it’s too early for a party. And you don’t talk to many people…”
Ignoring the slight burn, you front Denki, and extend your hand out to his. His eyes widen for a moment, he wipes his hand on his pants, and takes yours.
“I need your help, Denki. Seriously.”
“Yeah,” he says, a touch more reformative. “Okay.”  
What should’ve been some grand reveal, however, turned out to be anything but.
The pool being clean is the first thing you notice, as absurd as that is. It’s now half-filled, with only sprinkles of algae leftover by some miraculous clean-up. There’s no more silver fish swimming around, and all the trash that had previously taken sanctuary in the pool now lays on a mountainous pile with the bra sitting at its peak. Your guest is no longer in the pool—the very clean pool.
Denki chuckles and says, “well, this doesn’t look bad at all. By how hysterical you were on the phone, I was expecting something much worse. Oh! Hello!”
Your jaw drops as Denki waves at Hitoshi—a very comfortable-looking Hitoshi who lounges on one of the reclining pool chairs, head turned back like he’s sun bathing, one leg crossed over the goddamn other. Legs. Attached to feet—feet that definitely were not there when you’d met him.
Tricky, magic fish-man.
“Oh,” Hitoshi says, carefully considering Denki. “We have company?”
The ‘we’ in his statement doesn’t sit right with you anymore than his appearance does. He stands, and both you and Denki gasp when you see his new outfit in its entirety. It’s all royal blue, fine silks, and sheer fabric that only covers the places that would make Denki blush. Puffy, yet flowing sleeves connect to his now two golden cuffs. A heavy gold necklace hangs around him, and he’s got a light sash thrown around mostly his bare chest. A golden, v-shaped belt holds his deep blue harem pants up.
They are the gaudiest goddamn pajamas you’ve ever seen.
Hitoshi moves like water to face Denki, then firmly grasps him by the forearm, yanking the boy forward so that their lips are mere inches away from each other. Noting that there’s no glowing from their contact, you watch as Hitoshi’s indigo eyes slide from Denki’s lips, to you, and shows off a dubious glint.
“Whoops,” Hitoshi murmurs basically into Denki’s mouth. “I almost forgot that you don’t greet people like this here.” He takes a step away and smirks. “Forgive me. I’m Hitoshi Shinsou. You must be the pool guy.”
“Um, yeah. ‘M Denki Kaminari.” Denki laughs nervously. His cheeks burn red, and he keeps shifting his weight from one leg to the other. Grabbing onto your hand tightly, he starts back towards the house, towing you along, saying, “excuse us, we just have to—uh. Talk.”
In a tick, you’re whisked right back inside, in the land of private conversations.
“It didn’t look like that before, Denki. I swear to god.” You’re insisting as soon as the door is closed.
“It?!” Denki balks, his cheeks turning even more red. “Do you mean the pool or that hunk of a man hanging around your backyard?!”
“Both, I guess, but I wouldn’t call it a man! It had a giant purple tail before you showed up!!”
“That’s very rude, y’know.” Denki peers back at Hitoshi who’s lackadaisically cleaning his fingertips. “What are their pronouns?”
You imagine Hitoshi surrounded by others like him, all either screaming or clicking to communicate with each other in an inhuman language. “I don’t think pronouns matter wherever it’s from!”
“Hmm.” Denki slides the door open and pops his head out. “‘Scuse me, Hitoshi, what are your pronouns?”
Without missing a beat, Hitoshi answers him. “As in titles? You can call me Shinsou, but if you’re so inclined, I’ll allow you to call me lord.”
“Lord, of course.” More nervous laughter as Denki closes the door. “Lord. That’s a kink thing, right? It’s gotta be!”
“It’s not!” You bark, but Denki doesn’t hear you. Instead, he rushes towards one of the hall mirrors and begins fussing over his hair.
“I honestly can’t believe you did this. I mean, you, of all people. You’re braver than I gave you credit for. Coulda given me a heads up, though. I would’ve worn somethin’ nice. Or not come at all. I do feel like I’m intruding.” Denki’s eyes light up. “Unless this is for my birthday and you’re…you want me to join you?”
“You’ve lost me.” You're too busy trying to figure out what you can do to convince Denki that Hitoshi is a mermaid. You’ve considered pushing him back into the pool, but you don’t know if that would change him back to his sea-man state, or just make you look like a jackass.
“This is so weird. I haven’t seen that guy on the island before, and believe me, I know everybody. It must’ve cost a pretty penny to get him here. On top of everything else-“ He clears his throat- “how much is this costing you? Does Shuzenji know what you get up to while she’s away?”
It hits you like a freight train. “Oh, Kaminari…No…”
“The jig is up!” Denki stomps his foot defiantly and points towards the door. “You’re paying that man for sex!”
“God no!” The very idea that you’ve paid Hitoshi to be here, to touch you, flusters the hell out of you. If anything, you’d pay for him to leave. “You’d honestly think I’d hire a prostitute?!”
“Escort is the term they are using nowadays, and no, I wouldn’t think you’d hire an escort until now!” Denki scoffs, then moves his hand through his hair, exasperated. “The thing is, babe, you don’t need to. You’re cute and fun! If you got out every once in a while…”
“Fish!” You yell, cutting him off, because you’re not about to have another conversation about your hermit lifestyle. “He’s a fish, Denki! I didn’t fuck a fish! Nor am I planning to!”
Denki blinks at you. Not like before—not like he’s reflecting your words. This blink is more like a blink one would offer someone who’d been having an otherwise normal conversation, until they started talking about the earth being flat, or homosexuals burning in a lake of fire.
I’m not crazy, you think and will Denki to believe. I’ll prove it.
Before you can give Denki a play-by-play of what happened—properly this time, and not just your rambled recall—the door slides open, and Hitoshi steps in.
“May I enter?” The regal-looking man asks.
At the exact same moment you say, “no,” Denki says, “of course.”
“I was just hoping to find something to eat.” Hitoshi stops in the kitchen, arms crossed and expectant.
“You haven’t fed your hooker?” Denki whispers and it blows your mind that he can say hooker and you can’t say prostitute. “You can have half my burger!”
“Burger,” Hitoshi repeats the unfamiliar word, and looks around, probably wondering what it could be. Denki takes the hint and proceeds to fish his meal out of the bag. Overly familiar with Shuzenji’s kitchen, he finds a knife to cut the sandwich in two, then hands one half to Hitoshi.
Hitoshi frowns.
“I’m sorry, are you a vegetarian?” Denki asks, and you can tell he’s being overly hospitable in a house that is not his. When Hitoshi doesn’t answer him, but doesn’t stop frowning, Denki asks, “do you not eat meat?”
“This is meat?” Asks Hitoshi, shaking the burger in the air. Some mayonnaise-covered lettuce falls to the kitchen floor.
“I have to clean that!” You yip and wet a paper towel. When you’re on your knees, Hitoshi gives you a smirk of indifference.
“What, do you not have hamburgers where you’re from?” Denki asks, and when Hitoshi refuses to answer him again, he says, “the meat is the patty. It’s beef.”
“Beef.” Hitoshi begins dissecting the thing, throwing the bun halves, pickles, tomato, and lettuce all on the floor. You continue to curse at him while he sniffs at the patty. “What animal is this?”
“Beef is cow, dude.” Denki sounds more skeptical now, which you’d be grateful for if you weren’t already on your hands and knees, scrubbing ketchup out of the tile. “Man, throwing food on the floor is rude no matter where you’re from. Babe, you shouldn’t have to clean that up.”
“If I don’t, who will?” You ask, sardonic.
“There’s not really a floor where I’m from,” Hitoshi says once he swallows his first bite. He places the patty back onto the burger wrap, and steps away from his mess. “At least, there’s no floor when it’s meal time. We just let shells and bones float around until they go down to where they’ll eventually break down and decay.”
Denki asks, “where did you say you were from?”
“He’s a fish, Denki.”
“I didn’t.” Hitoshi gets down on his knees with a wetted paper towel of his own. He swipes at the places you’ve missed, then looks at you. “Tell me, would a not-good person clean up a mess that isn't their own?”
“It’s kind of my job,” you retort and stand so Hitoshi can finish cleaning. Instead, he stands with you.
“And what is his job?” Hitoshi nods towards Denki who looks more and more fretful by the second. “I assume he’s here to provide services. If you’re paying him, shouldn’t he be the one to clean for you? Prepare meals for you? Bend to your whims?”
Denki says, “I’ve got a couple jobs, but I’m not a housekeeper, no.”
“No?” Hitoshi gives out a terse laugh and hands the towel off to Denki. “Clean.”
Denki looks to you for an explanation. You’re about to chew Hitoshi out, when he again says, “clean,” but this time, there’s something attached to his voice. Something that is nothing, but also more. It sends goosebumps up your arms and compels Denki to fall to the floor and obey the command.
“Yes, my lord.” When Denki finishes cleaning and throws the rest of the mess in the bin, he looks at Hitoshi, eyes glossy, waiting.
“Fetch me some water,” says Hitoshi, and after another yes, my lord, Denki begins searching for a glass.
“Quit it!” You shout and very nearly grab on to Hitoshi’s arm, stopping only when you remember the glow and the prickles that accompany his touch. Decidedly, you hurry after Denki and grab the glass from his hands and snap your fingers in front of his face.
Denki blinks, and this time it’s not because he doesn’t hear you, and it’s not because you’re spouting crazy nonsense. He blinks, and it’s a revelation.
“Hypnosis!” Denki says the word like eureka! and you want to shake him, because he should be angrier than he seems.
“I’m surprised you understand or even remember that much,” Hitoshi drawls. “You’re more in-tune than you’d like people to believe.”
And I’m Mother Teresa, you think bitterly. The fish is contemptuous as hell, but he doesn’t read people well. To him, you’re good and apparently Denki’s a genius.
“How did you do that?” Denki asks with growing excitement. “When I was a kid, I was really into magic, but could never get any of the tricks right. You didn’t use any triggering noises or images or anything.”
“There is a bit of magic about you,” Hitoshi says like he’s thinking out loud. “Not enough to pull something like what I just did off unless you have the proper tide jewel. But you do have enough power to utilize a tide jewel.”
“Don’t do that again,” you warn, and pour water from the sink into the glass. There’s purified water in the fridge, but Hitoshi hasn’t earned it. “To Kaminari or to me. The difference between a house guest and a home-invader is who does and does not use hypnosis on other guests.”
“I wasn’t aware that hypnosis is a common occurrence in your residence.” Hitoshi reaches for the glass, but you hold it away from him. Casting out a withering look, he says, “I wouldn’t be able to hypnotize him again, even if I wanted to. Not for a while, anyways. Not without my tide jewel.”
“What’s a tide jewel?” Denki asks. “Is that, like, sea glass?”
Eyes flicking from the glass of water, to Denki, then to you, Hitoshi says, “he knows how to ask a question.”
The questions that you ask get ignored! But instead of saying that, you continue to withhold the water, and say, “then answer him.”
Mildly peeved, Hitoshi turns his attention back to Denki. “You say you have a couple of jobs. What would they be?”
“That’s not answering his question,” you mutter.
“I’ll decide whether I should answer him in a moment. Denki, if you will.”
“Oh, well…” The sheepish Denki brings his hand to the back of his neck, blushing slightly. “I’ve got the PoolPros gig, and sometimes I pick shifts up at The Salty Barrel. I sort of got an affinity for making drinks…and cooking…and fixing things, so they like to keep me around.”
Unamused, Hitoshi pries. “Anything else?”
“Sometimes I pick up odd jobs. Fishing and delivery. I guess I’m pretty dependable because of the boat.”
This catches Hitoshi’s attention. “You have a boat?”
“Sure, yeah. It’s nothin’ too special yet. I’ve been working on it, and it’s coming along, but it’s not ready for what it’s truly intended for.”
“Which would be?”
Denki looks at you and winks, making your ears warm. You know exactly why he got the boat.
“Romantic rendezvous.”
“I see,” Hitoshi says pensively. Then, his eyes go sharp when he notices you fiddling with the ties on your shorts. “Are you two mates?”
Denki lifts a conspiratorial brow towards you, before throwing his arm around your shoulders, pulling you against his body. “Sure, yeah—we’re mates!”
You push away from him, and bite, “not those kinds of mates.”
Although nobody disagrees with you, you sense Denki sulking.
“Ah,” Shinsou muses. “You haven’t yet fought for her hand?”
Before you can groan at the idea, Denki laughs quietly, but his laughter quickly grows uproariously as he considers the idea. Soon, he’s gripping his stomach to stop himself from doubling over. You glare at his feet.
“As if there’s another guy to fight for her,” Denki bellows, wiping a tear away from his eye. “Maybe if she ever went out, but for now, the only person I gotta fight for her hand, is her!”
“Oh, I understand,” Shinsou says, eyes on you. “A battle to assert domination.”
Denki hoots loudly at the idea. “Looks like I’m screwed!”
To your growing agitation and embarrassment, Denki continues to laugh. It’s as if you’re not constantly shooting him down. You’re not pitiful. Not helpless. And you think you’d have some game if you put your heart into it. You just have a type, and the pool guy just doesn’t fit the bill, whether he’s handy or not.
There’s no humor to be found in Hitoshi’s eyes, though. He’s glaring at you, like before, only now he’s looking at you more like you’re a piece of meat—like he’s some kind of predator and you’re his newfound prey. You inadvertently step closer to Denki, as if he could be used as some sort of defense shield, then elbow him in the ribs, pretending that you’re not at all intimidated by this fish-turned-man.
“Nobody’s fighting anybody,” you say, keeping eye-contact with Hitoshi. You’ve been told before that the fact that you’re never the first to look away is a little off-putting. Hoping to have the same uncomfortable effect on your guest, you don’t even blink when you say, “I just have my eyes on someone special.”
At the same time Denki stops his laughing, Hitoshi narrows his eyes—not out of malice, but what seems to be curiosity. That’s as far as you’ll go with revealing any more personal information. You might not be physically spoken for, yet, but at least you’re emotionally unavailable. You vaguely wonder if those kinds of ideals are acknowledged by sea people.
“Yeah, Kiri,” Denki says with a roll of his eyes. So much for keeping things personal. “He’s not interested in dating anyone, though. In fact, he’s pretty much married to the ocean.”
“At least there aren’t other girls,” you say, and with a quick glance at Denki, you add, “or boys.”
Denki exaggerates a woeful, hand-over-forehead pose and cries, “at least we have each other!” Then, he places his hand back around your shoulders. Again, you scoot away from him, and this time, you catch Hitoshi’s lips quirk up, just a bit.
“Alright,” Hitoshi says. “I’ve decided.”
“Decided what?” You ask.
“That the two of you are going to help me.”
The fish-man moves to flatten the burger wrap down on the counter like a map, and proceeds to decimate the other half of Denki’s burger. Denki says, “oh that’s fine…I wasn’t that hungry anyways.”
“Help you with what!” You bark, practically starving for details. Despite Hitoshi and all that he’s done, your interest is piqued, and you feel as though you’re finally going to get to the meat of his situation.
Lining a few fries on the paper wrap, Hitoshi finally says, “a few of my worldly possessions have been stolen from me. They’ve been missing for quite a long time now, and I now plan to take them back. Four of the six items happen to be tide jewels. I figure those will be the easiest to locate and extract.”
Denki snaps his finger. “Tide jewels! That’s what we were talking about! What are those?
Dabbing his pinky into some mustard, Hitoshi says, “artistry…” He dips his ring finger into the ketchup and says, “reign…” he tears a piece of lettuce in half and says, “tide…” and finally, he rips some of the patty and says, “soul.”
“Artistry, reign, tide, soul,” Denki repeats, peeking over Hitoshi’s shoulder. “You don’t happen to be a musician, do you? A magician musician!”
“I’m a connoisseur, but not a practitioner.” Hitoshi breathes. “And you’re too close to me.”
“Well, you’re certainly not an artist,” Denki huffs, taking a few steps back. You move in to see what Denki saw.
On the wrap, the French fries have been warped to look like some sort of three-pronged fork. On the left prong, there’s a dab of ketchup, in the center, mustard, and the right has a piece of lettuce sitting on it. Connecting the three prongs is the bit of hamburger meat Hitoshi had ripped.
“Is this supposed to be a fork or a trident?” You ask, then kick yourself, because it’s obviously a trident. Duh. Mermaids. “Is that one of the things that have been stolen? A trident?”
Hitoshi says, “yes. All four of the tide jewels connect to the trident. With them, the trident could very well be one of the most powerful blessed objects on this planet. If it falls into the wrong hands, the results could be catastrophic.”
“Now, hang on,” Denki begins, brows curved into a frown. “What?”
“So good at questions,” you murmur.
“Each tide jewel has its own magical property. The names speak for themselves, but since the two of you are a little slow on the uptake, I’ll explain.” Hitoshi points at each different spot on his fries-trident, explaining what each point represents.
“The yellow jewel is for artistry and skill. Whoever wields it, whether in its natural form or attached to another object, will learn trades quickly, can craft almost anything at a master’s level, and they’ll have a more creative way of thinking.”
“The red jewel is for reign and rule. Whoever wields this can command any audience. Wars have been fought, kingdoms taken, and women stolen by the power of this gem. It’s almost the most violent of the four, but it can also be used to keep peace.”
“The blue jewel is for the tide. They used to be two jewels, one for tide-ebbing, the other for tide-flowing, but they’ve been molded together after another theft mishap. With the power of this jewel, one would be able to control not only the water of the sea, but water itself. This gem can create storms you couldn’t dream of. This is possibly the most dangerous stone if placed into the wrong hands.”
“Sir, that’s a piece of lettuce,” Denki says.
“Your burger didn’t have anything blue,” Hitoshi growls, “nor did it have anything purple, which brings me to the last jewel. This would be the soul jewel. It aids people with wishes, can offer good dreams, and can allow the wielder to see people’s auras, or souls. This jewel has stopped many malevolent unions in the past.”
Finally, Hitoshi turns back to you and Denki. There’s nothing content about his expression now. If anything, he looks grave.
“The fact that the trident is not in my possession has already had a cataclysmic influence on the world you know now. I need it, and the jewels, or else there may be dire consequences.”
Throat dry, palms sweaty, you swallow thickly, and allow yourself a moment to process all that he’s saying. It may be idiotic, but you believe him. Maybe if you hadn’t seen him in the water earlier, things would be different. You’d be more skeptical. But since you’ve already seen one impossible thing today—two if you're counting the fact that Hitoshi grew legs and magically poofed himself an outfit—you don’t think he’s lying.
However, Denki did not see him in the water. Which is why he’s the first to speak.
“Right,” he says, looking down on you. “Sorry, babe, but the marvel universe did it first with Thanos and his gauntlet. If this is supposed to be a scavenger hunt of some kind, can we skip the game, hints and all, and get to the dinner? I expect there’ll be candles and such for nighttime, so maybe you and I can hang out at the beach, sans the mean magician?” Denki looks at Hitoshi. “No offense, buddy. You could join us if you cheer up a bit. I’d never say no to a threesome with two equally attractive people.”
The water in the glass you’re holding begins to shake. It shakes, and then it moves, and then it lifts up into the air, snaking around like a gelatinous worm, and slowly makes its away to Hitoshi’s mouth. Never before have you seen anyone swallow menacingly, and this has changed it.
“I am not your buddy,” Hitoshi hisses between his teeth, “and this is not a game.”
“He just…” Denki begins stuttering. This isn’t something he can chock up to something as mundane as a magic trick. This is pure magic, and you feel less like a giant dork for how you reacted to Hitoshi showing himself to you, with how distraught Denki seems to be.
“I told you,” you say under your breath, “he’s a fish!”
“I am Hitoshi Shinsou. I am one of Ryūjin, and you will not desecrate my name or my people by belittling me or my power.” It hadn’t occurred to you until now that he’s not only speaking to Denki, but to both of you. The thought makes you shift with unease as Hitoshi’s eyes slide from your friend to you. “Not without consequences. I’ve been burdened with this purpose, and the two of you can choose to help me and reap the rewards that follow, or you can return to your miserable lives, loligagging and ogling the things you know you want, but are too lazy to obtain.”
At this moment, Hitoshi Shinsou seems ancient to you. Trepidation crawls up your spine, chilling you to the bone. You regret most of what you’ve said to him, even the things you’d thought he deserved. You have an inkling that if Hitoshi really wanted to harm you, or Denki, he would. Easily.
“Okay, well-“ Denki, again speaks first, thank god. “You didn’t say there would be rewards.”
Maybe don’t thank god yet. But before you can apologize on Denki’s behalf, the air that you hadn’t realized had got heavier, thicker even, lifts, and Hitoshi eases up, lackadaisical smirk back on track.
“You both wish for something,” he says. “If you help me retrieve what’s rightfully mine, I will graciously return the favor by granting your wishes.”
“We do?” Denki asks. It’s wild to you how easily he could jump back into conversation like this, although, when you look closely at him, you can see that he’s trembling faintly. “What do I want?”
“You wish for a boat,” Hitoshi says, “so I will give you a boat.”
“I have a boat.”
“I’ll give you a better boat.” Hitoshi seems to be enjoying himself now, even going so far as to lean on the table, picturing exactly what he’s describing. “A captivating boat that both women and men find irresistible. It will sail smoother and faster than the other vessels out on sea. You will never want or need for an upgrade for it will never wear or tear.”
“A super boat,” Denki muses, beguiled by the idea. It’s your turn to be skeptical now, because you haven’t wished for anything. At least, not aloud for Hitoshi to hear.
“Then, what do I get?” You ask, arms crossed. You can admit that you’re interested in what he might have to say.
“Oh darlin’, that’s easy,” Hitoshi purrs, and moves from the counter over to you. Slowly, like he’s savoring your anticipation. Lifting a finger to your arm, he slides it across your skin, watching as both the glow and the tingles return. You have to hold your breath to yourself from sighing.
“You want to be loved,” he says, “adored even. And not just by anybody. You want to be with your soulmate, isn’t that right. That may be why you came to this island to begin with.”
There’s no way he could’ve known that you’re new to the island. Nobody said anything about it. But he’s not wrong. Though you can’t say he’s right either. You came to the island in hopes to find…yourself. And though you haven’t yet found yourself, you sure as hell found Kirishima. And soulmate has a nice right to it.
“So if we help you find these gems—“
“—tide jewels,” he intervenes.
“Tide jewels-“ you roll your eyes- “then you will give Denki a super boat, and you will unite me with a soulmate?”
“Exactly,” Hitoshi confirms. “Easy peesy, isn’t it?”
“How do we know you’ll uphold your end of the bargain?” Denki asks, finally out of his super boat daydreams.
“I said you were good with questions.” Hitoshi smirks. “You don’t know. You can’t know. But you can either do this with me, and probably get a super boat and a soulmate out of it, or you can not, and get nothing.”
Denki side-eyes you, and you him. You hold each other’s gazes for a brief moment, and you already know how this would play out if you refuse. Denki would convince you to do it. You don’t do anything, he says with his eyes. Might as well hang around and see how this plays out.
“Fine.” Even though your good conscience screams at you to do otherwise, you let up. “We’ll help you.”
“Excellent.” Hitoshi beams, or at least, he beams in a way only someone who was just threatening two other people can beam. “Then we should start our search today. We’ll probably need to go into town and see if there are any supernatural occurrences or old folktales to check out.”
Going out to town is the last thing you’d planned on doing today. Or maybe the second to last thing you planned on doing. You have to ask, because if you don’t, you’ll go batsy.
“We won’t be getting wet, will we?”
Hitoshi scoffs, which isn’t an answer. Maybe you really don’t ask the right questions because when Denki asks, “you said there were six things you need to retrieve. What’s the sixth thing?” Hitoshi winks at you, and grins. And when he grins, your stomach aches.
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screamingatanemptyroom · 4 years ago
Text
Song of a Mermaid Warrior pt 2
Part 2 to the mermaid story!
Decided to continue it, wanted to see where Jordan's story ends up.
You can read pt 1 here.
Enjoy!
___________________________
“Well, well, well! Never thought I’d see the mermaid herself swimming over to my fetid swamp here in the slums!”
A slim young man with bright purple hair grinned, flipping a silver coin into the air over and over without looking at it. “Thought you said you were never coming back? What, did your last book not sell as well now that you're peddling comforting little lies about your species?”
Jordan leaned against the doorframe of the dilapidated shop, wondering for the thousandth time if this was a bad idea. She knew the answer, deep down, but chose to ignore it. “Tock, cut the crap.”
“Oh sweetie, you haven’t changed. “ Tock laughed. “ I can cut the crap, but not sure what use it would be… crap is notoriously difficult to cut, tends to mush up, you know… and whose crap should be cut? Mine?” He shrugged. “ Sorry to say this body doesn’t make physical waste. What about yours?”
Jordan rubbed her forehead. “I should have known better than to do anything other than speak as literally as possible… I hate fairies.”
“You only know one fairy, darling.” Tock’s eyes blinked, the irises turning green, than orange, than staying at a robin’s egg blue. “Unfair of you to judge the whole species just because you don’t like me. Especially because I have been nothing but fair and helpful to you.”
“You tried to trick me into giving you my skin.”
“TRIED. Tried is the key word there. Plus you didn’t fall for it, so what’s the problem?”
Jordan sighed, knowing that there was never any point with arguing with Tock.
She had run into the fairy over two years ago. At that time she was frantic, trying to find Hunter’s location, and her desperation had led her to the darker corners of the city. She had spent every last coin she had, unable to eat or sleep, and at her darkest moment, she stumbled into Tock’s shop. Later Jordan had realized that it was likely that despair that had allowed her to find his place. There were magic wards to keep all but the most vulnerable out.
When they met, Tock had seen her madness, her obsession, and was ecstatic. He tried to get her to agree to many terrible deals in exchange for tracking down Hunter and after adding a small addendum she had agreed, feeling that whatever price she had to pay was worth it.
In the end, the addendum she had insisted on saved her skin, quite literally. She had added on a time limit that he had to track Hunter down and arrange a meeting. And to Tock’s shock and dismay, whatever elven magic was hiding Hunter’s identity; it was beyond the fairy’s ability to dismantle.
Tock had failed to find Hunter, and the contract expired. Jordan left, at the time feeling a strange mix of disappointment at the failure and gratitude to be still in one piece. As they parted ways, she swore never to come back to his broken place of deals with the devil.
Until today.
“So what brings you here, my lovely little fish?” Tock flipped his coin again, and it sizzled as it disappeared into thin air. “Still trying to find that stubborn elf boyfriend of yours?”
“He was just a friend, and no. I gave up on him years ago.”
Tock frowned, blinking as his eyes turned a bronze color. “Pity. Your skin has only gotten prettier since the last time I saw it… would love to find your price to part with it.”
“…” The memory of Hunter cheerfully making plans to run away with her still hung in her mind. What was it that he had said? “We might lose our clothes and money, but at least we’d have a fun story to tell”? We had no idea what real fairies were like. The ocean’s song in Jordan’s ears was rising, she kept her lips closed to hold back the seductive call of the magic. The fairy noticed her struggle, backing away slightly.
“Fine, fine, no more talk about your skin. Why are you mermaids so sensitive about losing organs?” He paused for a moment, thinking. “Mermaids regenerate, right? Or was that trolls?”
“Tock….” The name was forced out between clenched teeth.
The fairy rolled his eyes, changing them to a pure silver color. “So what deal DO you want to make today, my angry mermaid friend?”
She dug through her pocket handing over a silver badge with a handkerchief. Her touch shouldn’t affect his abilities, but Jordan still didn’t want to touch it. It represented something she had tried to move beyond in the last few years, a part of the past that caused her to wake up sobbing some nights, and to stay up drinking others.
Hunter had been her only friend, the only person in this world she thought she could trust. She had learned the hard way how foolish that trust had been. But once she had finally made peace with that fact, he had sent someone to intrude in her life once more. After forcing her to stay out of his battle, he was inviting her to join him, dangling the one thing he knew she couldn’t resist to get her to agree: the existence of other full blood mermaids.
She wasn’t going to play by his rules. If he was expecting her to run back to his side after forcing her away years ago, he would be sorely disappointed. And if she was going to use the clue he had given her, it was for her reasons and no one else’s. Because for everything he had gotten wrong, Hunter had gotten one thing very right:
She did want to find the mermaids in the city.
Not out of any sense of loyalty or need to find others like her, however. She was simply desperate. The instincts to fight and kill, to use her magic to trap and destroy, grew stronger by the day. Soon she was afraid she’d start killing innocent people. She needed to find a way to control it.
Jordan was hoping that other mermaids would know how.
Maybe other mermaids don’t have this problem. She thought at her darkest moments. Maybe I’m just a killer, a monster.
She tried not to think about that to often.
Tock gingerly picked up the badge, his eyes widening with surprise and turning a glowing violet.
“You always have the best things! Let’s see… silver… It was made several years ago… it had other forms years ago… but the owners of those items died quite violently…” He paused, glancing at her curiously. “Your handiwork, I would guess?”
“No comment.”
“Such an unfriendly fish… good thing you have such pretty skin, otherwise I wouldn’t pay you any attention.” He turned back towards the badge in his hand. “It was made with care and love… quite a pure emotion of care… along with a large amount of hope, all mixed in with the silver as it was reformed… it was part of a set?”
“Yes.” She swallowed uncomfortably, pushing back the memories of a young naïve girl, who thought herself hardened and bitter, carefully making a birthday present for her best friend.
“Can I see the other one?”
She thought of the location of the badge she had once treasured. “No.”
Tock pouted. “Fine. It contains quite a few auras, but the strongest one… is quite familiar.” His eyes turned a bright angry red. “Elf!”
“Yeah, it was Hunter’s.”
“That BASTARD! His blasted elf magic forced me to lose my contract with you!” He tossed the badge to the counter with a disgusted grimace. “You’ll never be that perfect combination of desperate and vulnerable again!” He looked back at me. “You are STILL trying to find that elf who dumped you three years ago? And I thought you had standards.”
The ocean song roared in her ears as it sensed her anger, pushing at her control, leaking from her lips. She could feel it swelling beneath her skin, threatening to force itself out. Tock rolled his eyes at the sight.
“Don’t try your battle magic here. You may be quite terrifying to meet in a dark alleyway, but I have some great wards in place.” He sneered as she kept her lips closed tightly. “Just a word of advice: Don’t face off a fairy in his own home.”
Jordan forced her magic down with great struggle, every instinct wanting to lash out. “I don’t want you to find Hunter. I want to know most frequent locations this amulet has been over the past six months.”
“And that’s not the same thing because…”
“Because it’s not him I’m wanting to find.” If he's found mermaids, then the locations he's been, the people he's spoken to... they'll be clues to track them down.
Tock raised an eyebrow. “Then what ARE you trying to find?”
“None of your business. I just need the locations this object has been most frequently.”
“Very well.” His smile became sly, his eyes shifting away from the angry red to a dark blue. “What deal shall we make for me to do this? How about your skin…”
The last word trailed off as Jordan held up a golden coin.
“…”
_________________________________
The silence in the room stretched on, as Tock’s gaze was locked on the object in her hand. His eye color was shifting rapidly, brown, grey, orange, green, before the whole eye filled with color finally turning a solid, glowing silver. His shoulders twitched, and his teeth grew longer in his mouth, the sharp points pressing into his still human appearing lips.
“Where did you get that?” His whisper had lost all of his previous joking tone. There was a small amount of magic woven into his words, a minor compelling spell to force her to speak, and speak truthfully. It buried itself in her ear, making her thoughts foggy. Jordan smiled, shaking her head as the ocean song within her rose in volume, drowning out the fairy magic easily, keeping her mind clear.
“I’ve picked up a lot of things these past few years.”
“ANSWER. THE. QUESTION.”
“No.” Jordan flipped the coin, mimicking the fairy’s earlier actions. “Don’t try your magic on me, fairy. I’ve had too many years of practice ignoring magical compulsions.”
“Fine.” He sighed loudly. “Do you know what it is you have there? Do you know if there’s any more?”
“I’ve heard stories… tales only whispered in dark alleys and in crumbling basements. Do you know in schools here they teach that the humans are the only ones affected by the Darkness? That losing the ability to have children was the be all and end all of the curse?”
“…” Tock kept silent, staring at her. Shrugging, she continued with a mocking smile.
“What a limited view, right? Turns out that everyone lost something to the Darkness. Every single one. It took whatever that species valued most. For humans, such a short-lived, social people, it was taking away the ability to make new generations. But fairies… you are born of magic and air, part of nature and outside of time. Procreation means nothing to you.” She flipped the coin up, letting it spin in the air before catching it and holding it firmly in her hand. “The Darkness took something much more important to you fairies.”
Tock was trembling at her words, unclear if it was with fear or anger. “What do you think the Darkness took from us?”
Jordan glanced at his empty back. “Your wings.”
“…” The fairy’s hands were gripping the counter in front of him. His fingers sank into the wood as easily as if it was made of clay.
“If it were just something to help you fly, I bet you would have simply made do without them. But they represent something much more important, don’t they?” She leaned closer, ignoring his threatening aura. “That’s where fairies store their magic. So now you have the live with the scraps of magic you absorb from the earth and enchanted items, unable to store it within yourself. That’s why you work here, in this pitiful little shop, unable to do more than hide behind these wards and peddle minor magic tricks for favors.”
“Be careful, mermaid…”
“Oh I’m careful enough, Tock.” She opened her hand and stared at the coin in her palm. “No wonder you wanted my skin… how much magic should be stored within it, I wonder. Enough to last you a few years I would think. Which is why this little coin is so important to you.”
“…”
“Fairy gold.” She held it up again. “Quite pretty, actually, looks like the real thing even on close inspection. But if I were to try to spend it… it would expel all the magic stored inside, turning to wood and taking away my lifetime’s luck. An inconvenience for me… but for you?” She grinned. “It stores enough magic for you to live comfortably for quite some time. You could leave this shop, set up protective wards wherever you ended up. Magic enough to stabilize your appearance so your eyes and ears don’t change; let you blend in if you wanted to leave your house for a change. “
“…”
“So what do you say, Tock.” Jordan flipped the coin one last time. “Do we have a deal?”
After a long pause, the fairy spoke up. “… I …”
“TOCK ARE YOU HERE?!!”
The shop door slammed open and a short redheaded young man burst in. As he rushed to the counter, Jordan got a closer look. He was a few inches shorter than her, his leaner frame still obviously muscular. His facial features were handsome, with bright green eyes that glowed with excitement and fiery red hair that was cropped short. He wore regular clothing, a grey t shirt and jeans, and would have seemed very average except for the massive axe strapped to his back.
Who the heck is this?
“Glit, this isn’t the time.” Tock warned, his tone still angry and tense.
“No, Tock, I’ve been thinking about it… maybe I SHOULD be willing to compromise… exactly how much skin would you need to help me find the dwarves?”
The fairy’s eyes glowed an excited gold, his teeth retracting once more as he stabilized his appearance. “Well now…”
“Add his bill to mine.” Jordan interrupted, glaring at Tock. “No skin.”
“But… that’s unfair! We already had a deal!”
“You didn’t accept it in time, so now the deal has changed. “ She shrugged “The price I’m offering is more than enough to cover us both. I would suggest you take the deal before it changes again.”
Tock glared. “FINE! FINE, I ACCEPT!”
The young man turned to her, shocked. She met his gaze, holding back the urge to sigh. Jordan wasn’t much one for random acts of kindness to strangers, but he reminded her of herself a few years ago. Lost, desperate… the only kind of people who can slip past Tock’s wards. She just wasn’t sure what his reaction would be to her interference… annoyance? Gratitude?’
He grinned at her. “You look really strong! Wanna fight?!”
… Well that certainly hadn’t been the reaction she was expecting.
“Maybe later…”
His shoulders slumped. “Dangit. I was losing hope of meeting a strong person in this awful city… no offense if you like it here.”
“None taken, I don’t.”
“I finally meet someone worthy of a good fight, and I make a terrible first impression.” He sighed. “My Ma always did say I needed to work on my introductions.”
“…And you are?”
His eyes widened. “I haven’t told you that yet?” His hand slapped his forehead. “Sorry, must have been distracted by the whole ‘trading my skin’ thing. I’m Glitenaere ni Tolk Vhelarite, firstborn of Marleiun ge Nerturin, the greatest Dwarven warrior alive… but you can call me Glit!”
She looked over the short young man. “You are the greatest warrior?”
“Nope. My Ma.”
“You’re a dwarf?”
“Since I was born.”
Jordan felt curious, having only ever read about dwarves from human textbooks, which said they were a reclusive, unfriendly race.
The reportedly unfriendly, reclusive dwarf was reaching out to shake her hand. “Thanks for the saving my skin, friend!”
She didn’t take his hand. “Shouldn’t you have a beard?”
Tock burst out into laughter, his eyes turning a humorous magenta. “Wow, way to go straight for the gut.”
“Aww, shut up fairy, she didn’t mean anything by it. Can’t blame her for not knowing in a city like this.” Glit leaned against the counter, rubbing his chin with an idle hand. “I’m a darkling, a child born infected by the Darkness.”
“Every race lost something.” Jordan whispered.
“Not everyone was infected, but those who were never grew beards.” He looked sad for a brief moment. “It’s a symbol of strength, of connection to the Earth… everything in our culture revolves around it.”
“What about the women?”
“Oh they grow them too. You should see my Ma. Her beard makes all the boys cry with jealousy.” Glit laughed. “They all thought with her being the strongest and all, her child would be too… but…”
“…Sorry.”
“Oh don’t worry, friend. I’m not weak. I may not have a connection with the earth and a powerful beard, but I’m a force to be reckoned with when I have an axe in my hand!”
Tock looked up, his eyes turning bright white. “You may have to test that out sooner rather than later. We have company.”
BANG! Something slammed into the closed door behind them.
_________________________________
Jordan took a defensive stance, while Glit drew his axe. “Who’s coming?”
“Probably one of those damn purity obsessed groups. They constantly sweep the slums, looking for low bloods and part elves. Usually the wards keep them away, but today, I got a little… distracted. “
“Great. Not really in the mood to deal with these guys, Tock.”
“They bad guys?” Glit spoke up.
“Yep.” Jordan answered softly. “They do horrible things to those who can’t defend themselves.”
“Fair enough. Today they picked on the wrong type of people, though.” Glit grinned. “Let’s kill them!”
His easy acceptance of the violence they would face ahead gave her a little pause. Before she could examine it too closely, the door crashed open, and a large group of men wearing black cloths around the lower halves of their faces rushed in. In their hands were standard pistols, the dull metal glinting off the many lamps of Tock’s shop.
“Looks like we got a haul, boys!” One of them spotted Glit and Jordan, his eyes widening with shock. “That short one definitely can’t be high purity… he’s either a low blood or a dirty elf mix blood! And the other…” He glanced and Jordan and laughed. “A No Blood? Thought they were all gone!”
Glit twirled the massive axe in his hand with ease, looking confused. “Do I look like an elf?”
Jordan thought of the tall quiet young man who had always followed behind her, always trying to avoid violence. “Not even a little.”
“Ah.” He tossed the axe lightly, catching it with the other hand. “Hey fellas, despite your insults and poor eyesight, I’m gonna be nice. Here’s your one chance to run away, before my strong friend and I start slicing you to pieces.”
Even with the majority of his face covered, the disdain on the attacker’s face was evident. “Shut up, dirty elf! Even with your axe, you really think you can face a group with guns?" He snorted, "Now we’re gonna have fun killing you.”
Glit just laughed at the threat. “I was hoping you guys would say that!”
As the group of attackers spread out around the room, he turned to face one side, leaving his back open to Jordan.
Jordan hesitated briefly at Glit’s open back, startled at the gesture of trust, before slowly turning to cover him. She glanced around to see that Tock had disappeared before closing her eyes, calling up the song within her and setting it free.
From her mouth a song of battle rang out. Several of the attackers stopped in their tracks, caught in her illusion, but the rest were only mildly affected, just barely losing their grips on their weapons.
Jordan cursed silently, still singing. Her magic was very effective against small groups of enemies, but the more people it was spread out against, the less useful it would be.
As the song of death spilled constantly from her lips, she felt her nails grow out into claws and moved forward, striking the attackers that were not incapacitated first. From the side she heard Glit run forward, spinning his axe, blood and tissue flying through the air as he cut through enemies.
Blood dripped from her fingers. She heard someone behind her, preparing to strike and turned, grabbing his neck. She felt the water within his heart, and used her magic to stop it in place. His face turned pale, and clutching his chest, he fell to the ground.
Jordan was feeling the drain of her magic. Her vision was turning a bright blue, the song growing in her mind, calling for her to give in completely.
BANG! A shot rang out past her ear, and sensing the danger, the song surged louder in her soul.
Can’t give up all control to my instincts. She thought grimly, slicing the shooter’s face. I might just lose myself completely.
It was hard, fighting against physical enemies while resisting the magical bind of her own blood, but Jordan forced herself forward, grateful for the help of the dwarf beside her. If she had faced all these enemies by herself, she might have lost to the bloodlust within her.
The air was filled with blood and screams.
And then… there was silence.
__________________________________
Jordan’s vision cleared as she forced the song of the ocean down, keeping it tightly controlled within herself. Her nails retracted and she stood in place, staring down at the blood on her hands.
Hunter always said he didn’t want me to be a killer. She closed her eyes briefly with pain. She felt dirty, worthless. Maybe if I wasn’t one he wouldn’t have left me behind.
Lost in her thoughts, she only came out of it as she felt a warm touch on her hands. Shocked, her eyes flew open, only to see Glit pushing a large wet cloth into her grasp.
“Here, friend, you can clean your hands with this.”
She paused, unused to the kindness, but took it anyways. “Thanks.”
“No problem! You’re amazing! That battle song… had magic in it right? Are you not human?”
“Mermaid.” The word came out before she could stop it, and Jordan pressed her lips together, annoyed. He’s a stranger. No need to tell him anything more. She tucked the dirty rag in her pocket, not wanting to give Tock a free sample of her blood.
“Really? I thought they had all disappeared!” Glit’s face lit up. “My Ma always said that the mermaids were the only warriors she wouldn’t want to face up against! That’s awesome!”
She glanced at the dismembered bodies on his side of the room. “You’re not such a bad fighter yourself.”
His smile brightened. “Really? Thanks! Those guys back home thought I was pretty useless, being a Darkling and all, but if a mermaid warrior says so, I’ll trust your opinion!”
“This is all very touching… but what am I supposed to do about the mess you made?” Tock’s annoyed tone caught their attention.
“We fought off your attackers while you hid in the back, fairy.” Jordan raised an eyebrow. “You can worry about the mess. You’re lucky we don’t charge you for the service.”
“Yeah, what she said!” Glit crossed his arms, standing at her shoulder, and smiled at Tock, the still bloody axe in his hand making the gesture threatening.
Tock rolled his now yellow eyes. “Fine. While you two were gleefully tearing those idiots to pieces, I finished the tasks you gave me.” He spread a map on the counter, ignoring as the far corner was stained with blood. Jordan recognized it as a map of the city. With a golden pen the fairy circled a few buildings. “Here’s where the amulet has spent the most time in the last six months, in order of most time spent.”
She glanced over at Glit beside her. “And the dwarves?”
“Tougher, since he doesn’t have a possession from the dwarves in question, but…” He picked up a silver marker, and circled one place. “There is a high concentration of earth magic here.”
Glit and Jordan stared at the spot, where silver and gold overlapped.
“Looks like me might be looking for the same place.” She whispered.
“Really? That’s great, friend!” He paused. “By the way, what’s your name?”
“Jordan. But I don’t think we’re friends. I don’t trust anyone.” Not anymore.
“Jordan!” He grinned. “Don’t worry, we can still be friends. You don’t have to trust me. I’ll trust you enough for the both of us.”
Tock groaned. “You’re so naïve… why couldn’t you have shown up when the mermaid wasn’t around?! I could have extorted you for so much skin!”
Jordan grabbed the map silently, unsure of how to respond to the dwarf’s enthusiasm.
“If you’re going there, can we go together? I’m looking for a large group of dwarves that disappeared, we think they might be being held captive in the city.”
“…You really shouldn’t trust people so easily.” Her words came out as a pained whisper.
Glit’s face became solemn for the first time since they met. “It’s okay. I’ve grown up in a world that hates me. It’s not been easy, but over the years, I’ve developed a good sense of those around me, and what kind of people they are.”
“And kind of person do you think I am?” She was genuinely curious what the cheerful dwarf thought of her.
“You? Well, you’re someone who cares too much and wishes you wouldn’t. My guess is that you’ve been hurt very badly by someone you trusted… and now you would never wish that same pain on another person.” He shrugged. “So that’s why I trust you. You might kill me if you have to, but you’ll do it facing me. You won’t stab me in the back. You couldn’t bear to do that to someone after what you’ve been through.”
“Interesting opinion.” Jordan felt a strange mixture of despair and relief at his words. “Not put off by me killing men while they’re stunned by magic? That wasn’t just a fight…I’m a killer.”
“Hmm… well, I just chopped up six guys with an axe, and the only reason they didn’t shoot a bunch of holes in me is because of your magic, so I’m pretty sure I can’t judge.” Glit patted her on the back. “Are you looking for mermaids, like I’m looking for dwarves?”
She nodded silently, although silently she thought their reasons for looking were quite different.
“Then let’s go find our people together! You don’t have to trust your back to me, but don’t worry! I’ll defend it anyways.”
“Can you two leave?" Tock rubbed his face tiredly, his eyes flickering between purple and pink. "This touchy feely stuff is bad for my business. What if some desperate fool walks in and is inspired by all your motivational speaking?”
Jordan tossed him the fairy gold, taking back the silver badge she had given him, and turned and left the shop. “Never coming back, Tock.”
“Keep telling yourself that, my fishy friend!” He called back. “You’ll come back. They always do.”
“Okay then! See you later, Tock!” Glit called out as he walked behind her.
“…Actually, I would prefer it if YOU don’t come back. You give me a headache.”
Jordan and Glit left the carnage filled shop behind them
_________________________________
“So mermaids and dwarves being held in the center of the city.” Glit thought out loud. “Some sort of human conspiracy?”
Jordan thought of growing up in the orphanage, the city’s emphasis on having higher purity of mermaid blood rather than human, the complete lack of information on other races. She thought of Hunter and the underground Resistance. Of the Darkness that spread everywhere, touching every species.
Everyone lost something to the darkness, right?
So what did mermaids lose?
... What did I lose?
“There’s something broken about this world, more going on here then we realize.” Jordan answered softly. “But we’re going to figure it out.”
“Together?”
“For now.”
“Awesome!” He pumped a fist in the air. “Wait until I tell my Ma I went on a quest with a mermaid warrior. She’s gonna be so impressed!” He paused. “You two would get along, I think. Strong warrior types and all.”
Jordan sighed, rubbing her forehead.
“Why does everyone keep sighing around me?”
“… Let’s go. “
_________________________________
They moved quietly towards the place marked on the map. Glit, surprisingly, activated a hidden mechanism on his axe, folding it into thirds and hiding it in a backpack, and pinned on a “34” badge. He saw her glance at the silver ornament and shrugged. “Snatched this off some guy who tried to mug me when I arrived in town. Most people think I’m just a low purity level student when I’m dressed like this .”
“How old are you?”
“Twenty-three.”
“…” Older than me? Jordan adjusted her mental view of him silently.
“Don’t worry if you thought I was younger.” He raised his hands helplessly. “No beard and the dwarven height tends to confuse people.”
“Sorry.”
“No worries, as long as you don’t think I’m weak and helpless just because I’m shorter than you.”
She thought of him cutting through enemies with his axe. “No chance of that.”
They made they way to the abandoned factory that Tock had marked for them. As they neared the area, Glit pulled out a machine from his bag waving it through the air.
“What’s that?”
“Dwarven machine, it detects the presence of magic.” He frowned. “We need to be careful. This whole place is covered with spells.”
“If this was a human holding place…”
“It shouldn’t have magic.” He finished her thought. “Maybe go up to the roof and enter from there instead?”
They scaled the wall silently, cutting a small hole in the roof with yet another tool from Glit’s bag. As she peered into the building, she felt the ocean’s song start welling up within her.
“There’s danger here. We should go back and regroup.”
“Jordan, look out!” Glit pushed her to the side, wincing as the blow from behind her struck his head instead.
Jordan opened her mouth to release her magic, but before a sound could escape, a hand grasped her arm and magic flooded her body.
“Sleep.” The voice was familiar, but her mind was already falling into darkness.
Jordan woke up on a couch in a dark room. Groaning, she rubbed her head, feeling angry. She knew this feeling, this hung over dizzy sensation. Remembered it too clearly even though she wished she could forget.
“Elven magic.”
Glit groaned from his sprawled position in the corner of the room, his arms and legs tied tightly. The ropes dug into his skin, but he ignored it as he flipped his body into a sitting position on the floor, looking up at her with a sad expression. “Sorry I missed them behind us.”
“It’s fine, thanks for taking that hit for me.” She glanced at the wound on his head, crusted with dried blood, and winced. “You okay?”
“Yeah, just a friendly tap. I’ve got a hard head.” He grinned, then looked around. “Real question is, who has us, and why?”
“I have an idea... but I really hope I’m not right.”
“You always did have good instincts, Jordan.”
The familiar voice spoke up from the doorway, Jordan forced herself to sit up on the couch, staring at their captor with a pained expression.
She knew him.
Of course she knew him.
He had set his trap, sent her his badge, knowing she would use it… and she had fallen for it.
The man who haunted her nightmares smiled sadly at her. “Not happy to see me?”
She blinked, shaking her head slowly. “Hello again, Hunter.”
213 notes · View notes
slashingdisneypasta · 4 years ago
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Hello. What about a villain SO who adores animals for Captain Hook, Hades, Dr. Facilier, Bill Cipher, Beetlejuice, and Jafar? Thank you hun😊🍯
Hope you like these ^^
~~~
Beetlejuice:
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·         I wouldn’t put it past him to make one or two beastiality jokes…
·         But apart from that, he doesn’t half mind animals either! (And he finds it endearing to see you playing with them, not that he cares to identify at all the warm, soothing feeling in his chest when he sees you boop your nose against a tortoise’s.) He’d love a dog, or… a tiger. A dinosaur would be ideal.
·         But actually, its animals that tend to have a problem with him.
·         Cuz of course animals are a lot more sensitive than humans tend to be to ghosts, and demons, and souls. And his soul is pretty damn mucky. BJ has met exactly zero animal’s so far (Since his death) that haven’t taken an immediate dislike of him. They hiss at him, or growl, or try to wriggle away even if they aren’t being held by him; Just nearby to him.
·         He scares them because they can feel his evil and want nothing to do with it.
·         So your dreams of adopting a dog with your new ghostie bf will need to be put on a back burner. Maybe he can lasso a sandworm and y’all can name her Rose and she can be your pet? He absolutely does not want you to be sad because of him!!
Bill Cipher:
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·         “ooOOH, what kind? Anglerfish? Clown fish? Sharks? Lobsters? Giant Squid? Wolffish? The Textile Cone Snail’s native to the Red Sea, Indian Ocean and Oceania waters? Octopus? Lock Ness Monster? Mermaids? Shrimp? Koi? M E G A L A D O N S? OH OH- THE KRAKEN?”
·         “Wow, that was a lotta underwater stuff. I mean, yeah, they’re all great but also land animals and birds… And I don’t think all those are actually real?”
·         “Heheh, that’s what you think… “His body loses its colour and becomes like a Bill Shaped screen, like he does sometimes when he’s brainstorming, and you just catch a picture of somewhere under the ocean and a beautiful, purple tale flapping out of the picture and a flash of soft, human skin just above it. Your eyes blow wide open. “Y/N, remember 80 percent of the ocean is unexplored.”
·         SO, yeah. Bill’s really into underwater creatures. It is the most mysterious part of earth and in it lives some of the world’s freakiest creatures.
·         He’ll install a whole aquarium in your house out of excitement, and inside? Nothing but angler fish, giant squids to watch you while you sleep and beautifully coloured sea snails climbing up the glass walls.
·         Land animals though and birds? Very little interest. Birds get points only for being close to dinosaurs (You ask about reptiles in that case and his eye inverts in its colouring. His ‘skin’ goes red. “Those jerks know what they did.”), but still he’d much rather talk about star fish! Get ready to be more educated about the ocean’s weirdest creatures and mysterious happenings then you ever wanted to be.
Captain Hook:
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·         He has very confused feelings about this- especially when you act so chummy with Tik Tok who, naturally, loves you and your T-Bone steak snacks.
·         On one hand, if you’re feeding Tik Tok then Tik Tok probably won’t feel the need or be able, to eat him.
·         But on the other- bEtrAyER! How could you feed and love that monster, that has plagued his life for years and made his existence a living hell?
·         But then again, the fact that Tik Tok is now often too full to bother with him rears its head again and he calms down.
·         Because of this, its typical that he says nothing when you have animals around (Any animal. They all remind him of Tik Tok. Scales, fur, or feather). He’ll want to. Gosh, the need to speak will overflow in his throat and he’ll take a deep breath- … but then no words come out. He forces it down. Because he can’t mention his dislike without mentioning his relief also, so speaking at all would really just make you confused and feel bad and leave him frustrated because he doesn’t know how either of you could change to make this better for anyone, so its just not worth it.  
·         So then he just walks away.
·         Its pretty humorous to see, actually. Because he’s just all grumpy and slouching off, maybe shaking his head and muttering, and you’re all wide eyed and confused. Holding, like, a budgie or a snake or something.
·         The other pirates are keeping a tally.
·         Bonus point: He’s not scared (Or allergic) of any other animals apart from Tik Tok, so you don’t have to worry about him being skittish or anything.
Dr Facilier:
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·         Frogs are a difficult subject for him so enjoy amphibian cuties somewhere that he is not, please. Also rabbits- there was an incident before you came along that he does not speak of.
·         Other then that, Facilier is basically a normal person about animals. He can appreciate a nice zoo visit every now and then and pet the odd dog or cat but with you in his life he never wants to go to a zoo again. And he’s bored as hell by everyday pets.
·         But he won’t tell you he’s sick of all the animals. Nay, nay. Its one of those things where you love the person, so you put up with the crazy/annoying shit they love. Like ‘Yes, yes. Very interesting, cher… ‘ when you talk about it, while he’s actually reading the newspaper and he hasn’t heard anything you said. After all, you stay quiet when he’s plotting or cackling over something he did to a victim that day. Its only fair.
·         He is fascinated, though, when he’s just watching you (Sometimes he just sits back and observes you doing your thing. Its relaxing for him) and he notices little quirks you’ve picked up from various creatures. Like the way you curl up when you’re lying down on the couch and how you shrink back from things that happened to surprise you, similar to a big cat. Your eyes are focused like a wild animal, too. Very cute.
·         Lots of animal-themed nicknames.
Hades:
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·         “You know, some tell me I’m a kinda animal, babe… “He wiggles his eyebrows at you over his mug of whatever-he-drinks (You fear asking, after watching him eat a bowl of worms), offering his best (And funniest) bedroom eyes to you.
·         “Yes, but are you as cute as this snake Hades?? Are you?? Look into these eyes and tell me this snek is not as cute as you are.” You lift the little grass snake gently from the table and onto your arm, letting him wrap its body around you and lift his head to look around; Checking out what’s up. He was getting his scales stroked good; Why has it stopped?  
·         “Pfft,” Hades rolls his eyes, returning to the chess board in front of him (He likes to play both sides and challenge himself).
·         Okay so, Hades can take or leave most animals. But it’s so cute that you love them, so he lets you keep them around. Whatever animals you like (Don’t worry, you also have the proper equipment and enclosures for them, and Hades makes another God, who is an expert on all things animals, come by whenever you have a question), and however many you like. I mean, what’s the good of being a God if you can’t spoil yourself and your preciously excited, human significant other?
·         So you have, like, Reptiles at the west end of his underworld castle, nocturnal animals on the east, more pet-type animals like dogs and cats and rabbits in the living area part of the castle, etc.
·         The animals give Pain and Panic a hugely hard time, which Hades thinks is a great bonus to doing this for you.
·         He really loves it when you call him and yourself the animal’s parents. Yes, call me Daddy, babes. Its fine by me!
Jafar:
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·         Oh my god, the disdain in his voice when he looks from you, practically bouncing on the heels of your feet and to the fluffy white kitty you’ve gently shoved in his hands- which he holds at nearly a full arm’s length away from him. “Eugh. Really?”
·         “What’s wrong! ? Isn’t she the cutest?”
·         “She’ll get fur everywhere.”
·         “Oh, that’s rich… “You say, side eye-ing Iago, who’s making a face at the cat from Jafar’s other shoulder. “Iago stress moults- and you stress him out all the time!”
·         A dramatic, offended gasp erupts from one of the two males (Not gonna tell you who). “It is aesthetically pleasing mess!”
·         So basically if the animal doesn’t speak a language he understands, he doesn’t care for it. You’re going to be fighting him on this for the rest of your life, Y/N. (Or his. I mean, I heard evil double crossing sorcerer vizier’s are dying at an accelerated rate these days. Hm, mysterious.).
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heyyyharry · 3 years ago
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Deep End - Chapter 12: Dirty Dreams
…in which Harry and Ezi kiss again…and again…and again… (THIS CHAPTER CONTAINS SMUT)
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Word count: 4.6k
AU: famous!harry, siren!mc, adult modern retelling of the little mermaid? lol, fake dating, enemies to lovers.
WARNING: MATURE THEMES
All chapters / Synopsis / Moodboard / Playlist
Wattpad link
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Harry didn’t understand dreams. How did dreams even work? Because sometimes he would see someone he hadn’t seen in years in his dreams, even though he had completely forgotten about the person’s existence up to that point. Then there were these super violent and bloody dreams that woke him in the middle of the night in cold sweats. Then, there were some other more inappropriate dreams that made him so disappointed when the alarm rang.
Listen, Harry wasn’t a pervert. He didn’t think about sex 24/7; well, not usually. But lately, he’d been having dirty dreams more often than he would enjoy. He would wake up with his dick rock hard and end up late for work because he had to stroke one out in the shower. And he blamed it on…
“Ezi! Where are your pants? And why are you wearing my shirt?”
Ezi stopped in the kitchen doorway with a bowl of ice cream in one hand, the other holding a spoon in her mouth. “This is my new ‘at home’ look,” she said, while leaning against the door in nothing but his button-up shirt that fell just past her bum. As if the sight wasn’t torturing enough, she had to be licking ice cream from the fucking spoon. It was eight in the fucking morning! And Harry would not go back to the bathroom to wank again.
“But where are your shirts? Why don’t you wear them?” he asked and slipped past her into the kitchen. He would make himself a cup of coffee so he wouldn’t have to watch her being effortlessly sexy in the kitchen doorway.
“They said on the internet that you should borrow your boyfriend’s shirt, and you’re my fake boyfriend.”
“Fair enough,” Harry chuckled.
She gave him a shy smile and left without saying another word. That was the longest conversation they’d had since that night she went out on a date with Dawson. Ezi was always a little bit weird. Okay, well, very weird. But her weirdness had been different lately, in a bad way. She was still doing weird things, but keeping a distance from him.
Harry knew he couldn’t really complain, since he’d specifically told her to her face that he preferred it when it was just him and the cat. Having his own space had been nice for a day or two, then he’d started missing how annoying she’d been. And of course, he blamed this all on Dawson.
Harry had been second to Dawson his whole life. Ever since he’d been a kid and found out that he’d had a cousin, Dawson had been nothing but a burden for Harry. Harry was the only child, but to his parents, Dawson had been their favourite son. His father used to love sports, but Harry had never been a fan of those. Dawson, on the other hand, had been the captain of the school’s football team and was excellent at marathons as well. So if Harry’s father was still alive, Dawson would be the one making him proud by taking over the family business Harry didn’t want.
Now, just as Harry had finally gained his own spotlight as a singer, becoming great at something Dawson wasn’t good at, Dawson swept in and stole Ezi.
Harry had spent a lot of time wondering why it had mattered so much to him that Ezi had gone on one date with his cousin. He didn’t even like her like that, and the house was always peaceful without her, which he enjoyed very much. But why did the idea of her becoming something with Dawson bother him so much? He hadn’t been sleeping well for the last couple of days. Not to mention that Ezi had started keeping distance from him. Well, he’d done it first because of the kiss, but it was weird when she did it because she had always been so fucking clingy. And he’d hated that. Until now!
Ding dong!
“What do you want?” Harry asked in the least annoyed tone he could pull off, while fighting the urge to slam the door in Dawson’s good-looking face.
“Is Ezi home?” Dawson asked.
“Ezi? You mean Ezili? Because I’m the only one who calls her Ezi.”
“Y-Yeah, Ezili,” Dawson said with an awkward smile. This guy was a tool. What did Ezi see in him?
“No, she’s at work,” Harry said, and quickly added, “but don’t think about going there. They’re having a book club meeting; she’d be mad if you showed up and distracted her.”
That was a lie. Harry didn’t even know if people actually hosted book club meetings at random book shops, but did it matter? If he was going to be petty, he must go all the way.
“What do you wanna meet her for?” he asked before Dawson could leave. He didn’t want to have a long conversation with Dawson about Ezi, but it was the only way to learn more about their date. “Did you do something that you wanna apologise for?”
“No. Of course not,” Dawson chuckled and adjusted his glasses. “She bought some books and forgot them in my car.”
“I could give them to her when she gets back from work,” Harry said.
Dawson looked hesitant. “Well, she told me not to give them to you.”
“Oh.” Harry kept a straight face, but he was very offended that she’d made that request. Did she really hate him so much for what he’d said that night?
“So,” he ventured, averting his eyes. “Guess the date went well?”
“I suppose,” Dawson said.
Harry had hoped for a different response. This one didn’t really hurt him but it didn’t make him happy, either. He cleared his throat and straightened his back. “So are you looking forward to the second date?”
“I don’t think there’s gonna be one,” Dawson said, to Harry’s surprise. “I don’t think she likes me like that?”
Okay, this was the response Harry had been waiting for. He tried to suppress a grin as he patted his cousin’s shoulder sympathetically, while he was far from sympathetic. “Oh, don’t be so pessimistic. I know she’s a bit out of your league, but dare to dream a little.”
“Very funny,” Dawson snorted and brushed off Harry’s hand. “But I think she has a crush on you.”
“Really? I mean, no!” Harry faked a laugh, crossing his arm and leaning against the door in an unnatural pose. “No way.” Now he sounded like a commercial guy who had never attended a single acting class. “She doesn’t...she doesn’t have a crush on me,” he stuttered. “W-Why do you think so?”
Dawson pressed his lips into an understanding smile that made Harry’s face grow red. “All she talked about for the entire night was you.”
Harry thought Dawson was just teasing him at first. Then he remembered that this was Dawson, not him. So it was true. Ezi had talked about him for the whole night when she was with Dawson.
“What did she say?” Harry asked, trying to seem more curious than excited.
“She told me you were a good cook, and then complained about your bad habits. Then it was all ‘Harry said that’ and ‘Harry said this’. It seemed like she was really into you.”
“Oh, wow.”
“What?”
“Nothing.” Harry shrugged, trying to act cool and all that. “I’m just surprised. I thought she hated me.”
“I mean, she can still hate you if she has a crush on you,” said Dawson. “Also, why is she staying with you? Where’s her family?”
Harry shifted uncomfortably. “Why didn’t you ask her?”
“She kept mentioning her mother but nothing more than that, and she’d just change the subject whenever I tried to ask.”
Harry didn’t have enough time to think of a lie, so he blurted, “Her family was abusive.”
Dawson looked horrified, but he completely bought that. “Oh, I’m so sorry to hear that,” he said. “She’s a lovely girl, though. I know that you don’t like her, but don’t break her heart. Turn her down nicely.”
Harry blinked. “What?”
“You don’t like Ezili, right?” Dawson asked.
“Oh, yeah,” Harry laughed, uneasily. “I mean no, I don’t.”
“Yeah, I know you don’t wanna be in a relationship.”
Harry didn’t want to be in a relationship, but that didn’t mean he didn’t feel things. He guessed most people would just assume he had no heart because it was easier for them to make sense of why he wouldn’t settle down. In reality it was more complicated than that. He had had feelings for some people in the past, and he’d shut them down before he got to the point of no return. Ezi might be a dangerous creature, but he’d probably hurt more people than she had, mostly himself.
So did he like Ezi? Yes. He’d just realised that when his heart blossomed to the thought of her thinking about him on a date with his cousin. There was no denying that, as he only felt this way about his own songs. But was he happy about it? Well, yeah, of course he was happy about it. He was over the moon even. Still, that didn’t mean he should do something about it. He would just keep it to himself and wait–No, hope for it to pass.
Later that night, when Ezi came home from work, she went straight into the kitchen to eat from the fridge, and Harry came downstairs to find her sitting on the floor, munching off a sandwich in the fridge light glow. He watched her for a moment from the door before deciding to break the silence.
She flinched when hearing her name. She turned around, sandwich still in her mouth. “Did Dawson stop by?” she asked. “He said he would bring me my books.”
“Yeah, he did. I put them in your room,” Harry said, trying his best not to roll his eyes at the mention of his cousin. But then he remembered what Dawson had told him and came to sit beside her on the floor.
She ignored him and continued eating. She looked nothing like someone who had a crush on him, so what if Dawson had lied to him? He had never heard a lie from Dawson, but it didn’t mean Dawson was incapable of lying.
“Ezi, I wanna ask you something,” he said.
She finished her sandwich and reached into the fridge of ice cream. “Go ahead,” she said.
Harry started fidgeting with his shirt. “Why won’t you tell me about that date with Dawson?”
Ezi didn’t look at him as she said, “Do I have to tell you? It was personal.”
“Well, your sister was there,” he reasoned, “and she’s tried to kill me several times so I think I deserve to know some details about that night.”
Yes, Harry was curious about Ezi’s sister as well, but was it bad to say that he wanted to know more about what Ezi thought of him? Was it bad that Ezi’s feelings for him mattered more than his stupid life?
“My sister wasn’t there the whole time,” Ezi sighed and dipped her spoon into the ice cream. “I got rid of her at the fair then went for dinner with Dawson.”
“Oh,” Harry said, watching her intently as she ate. “So—”
“My sister wanted me to go back home.”
Harry froze. “Why?” he blurted, suddenly anxious. “I mean…does your mother want you back? Not that I think she won’t ever want you back—”
“No.” Ezi rolled her eyes. “My sister wants me to go back in return of the throne, so she can be Queen and allow me back into the Queendom.”
“But you wanna Queen?”
“I’m going to be Queen!” Ezi snapped. Seeing the shocked look on Harry’s face, she softened her voice, “I’m the firstborn. I’m going to be Queen. I have a year to…” Her voice trailed off and she spaced out for a second.
“To what?”
Ezi pressed her lips into a tight smile then said, “To stay here. My sister told me that my mother would take me back in a year.”
“That’s the punishment?” Harry chuckled. “Make you stay in this world where a handsome man takes care of you and buys you stuff?” Maybe siren mums weren’t as bad as he’d thought.
“And also bullies me 24/7,” Ezi said.
“Hey!” Harry put up his hands. “You bully me, too.”
“You literally told me you didn’t want to see me around the house.”
“Yeah, well, I like seeing you around the house now.”
“Liar,” Ezi said and took a spoonful of ice cream into her mouth. Harry tried not to pay attention to the way she licked the spoon or think about licking ice cream from her lips, but he knew he was going to see a lot of that in his dreams tonight.
“I’m sorry about what I said that night,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck.
Ezi held his gaze for two seconds, squinting her eyes. “Fine,” she said at last. “I forgive you.”
“Well, that was easy.”
“For now,” she added, putting the ice cream back into the fridge. “I’ll hate you again when I’m hungry.”
“You’re hungry eighty percent of the time!”
“Yeah.”
Harry chuckled as he watched her amber to the kitchen door. Clenching his fingers, he asked, “When’s your birthday?”
Ezi turned her head. “March 12. Why?”
“So I can say happy birthday to you on March 12.”
“Oh, thanks. Not looking forward to it, though.”
“Also,” Harry said fast before she left. “Do you wanna go to a party with me?”
.
.
.
Niall had just reached one million followers on TikTok, so he’d thrown a huge party at his mansion and invited his friends who had brought their friends and their friends’ friends. So the most influential people in the entertainment industry were at the party tonight.
Jeff had suggested that Harry bring Ezi so they could do some PDA stuff at the party to make headlines for the next few days. At first, Harry had planned to make up some excuses so he could go alone.
He and Ezi hadn’t kissed since that day in his mother’s closet. Well, actually, they had had a few pecks on the lips in public, but it’d only been for the paparazzi. It was hard to think about romance when there were at least ten cameras pointing at you.
Their first kiss, however, had been real and…hot. Harry couldn’t stop thinking about it. He didn’t know how Ezi felt since she never talked about it, but he had the impression that she had enjoyed it as much as he had. He couldn’t stop thinking about her flushed cheeks and plum lips as she pulled back, confused yet wanting more. In his dreams last night, they had been in that closet, but their clothes had been discarded, and he’d been pounding her against the wall. It was so hot. He’d had to wank twice when he woke up and he couldn’t make eye contact with Ezi in the kitchen during breakfast. Now he couldn’t get those images out of his mind.
“Harry.”
Harry jumped when his name was called. Ezi gave him a questioning look. She was wearing a little pink strap dress and her hair was in a high bun. She looked so cute tonight; his stylist had done a great job.
“You okay?” she asked, slipping her fingers into his. He knew it didn’t mean anything and she was only doing what Jeff had told her to. But he couldn’t stop the butterflies in his stomach from acting up. “It seemed like your soul left your body for a second.”
“Sorry, this loud music gives me a headache,” he said and finished his glass of wine. Ezi didn’t drink. “You wanna dance?”
Her gaze shot up in surprise. “Do you wanna dance?”
“What do you mean? I’m a fantastic dance partner.”
“But I’ve never danced before. I just got these legs a few weeks ago.”
Harry chuckled, shaking his head. “You’ll be good at it, I’m sure. We’ll wait for a slow song.”
Niall walked by just in time to overhear the conversation, so he shouted, “Slow song for my besties Harry and Ezili!”
Harry tried to stop Niall, but it was too late. Everyone in Niall’s living room was staring at him and Ezi. Jeff would be happy about this, but Harry didn’t think Ezi was. Her fingers tightened around his as she stepped closer, apparently uncomfortable with the intrusive glances they were receiving.
“Come on,” he said, pulling her close. “We’ll show them how great we are.”
“But I’m not—”
He didn’t let her finish and drag her out on the dance floor. There were a few couples slow-dancing around them, but Harry knew he and Ezi were the attention of tonight. In these people’s eyes, they were in love, completely infatuated with each other.
“Follow my lead,” he whispered in Ezi's ear while fixing her posture. “It’s easy.”
For a human who had been to too many of these dances, it was. But Ezi was barely good at walking. And so she ended up stepping on his feet repeatedly. The giggles of some women in the room made her even more anxious, so she almost stopped. But he reassured her by pulling her closer and lifting her chin so she was looking at him instead of them.
“Don’t be nervous. This is your little mermaid moment. Embrace it,” he said, making her smile.
“Ariel was a terrible dancer.”
“True. But she looked pretty stepping on the Prince’s feet.”
Ezi arched an eyebrow, amused. “Are you calling yourself the Prince?”
“I almost got casted for the role of Eric, by the way.”
“Yeah, right.” She rolled her eyes.
He acted offended. “No, it’s real.”
“As real as Santa Claus.”
“Santa Claus is real,” Harry argued. “Not you saying he isn’t when you’re literally a mythical creature.”
“Shut up,” she chuckled.
“Make me,” he replied.
Harry didn’t know who had initiated it. Maybe they had both leaned in at the same time. But this time as they shared a kiss in a crowded room, it felt like they were all alone in his mother’s closet once again. Of course he had to keep his hands respectfully on her lower back, but the kiss was still hot. He could feel himself being unravelled right there on the dance floor, and he liked the way her fingers twirled the hair at the back of his neck as they melted into one. But then people had to ruin the moment for them by filming it. Jeff would be happy; Harry wasn’t.
He had developed a special talent over the years as a celebrity and could always sense when someone was taking pictures of him. It made him uneasy and distracted, so he had to pull back. He supposed his twisted expression might have given Ezi the wrong idea. She thought it was her that made him uncomfortable. And for some stupid reason, Harry let her think that.
They left the party early because Ezi didn’t seem to enjoy it anymore. On the drive home, Harry tried to find a way to apologise for ruining the moment, but he didn’t know how to not make it awkward. She didn’t say a single word to him in the car, and he knew she wasn’t going to unless he started the conversation. But then he didn’t. And so she went to bed angry at him.
Harry felt really bad about it. He knew it wouldn’t be this way if he had communicated like a normal human being. But it wasn’t easy. He didn’t want to admit to her that he’d enjoyed kissing her, and he would’ve made out with her in front of all those people had it not been for who he was. He had wanted that moment to be real, but then he remembered it wasn’t, and he felt like he was taking advantage of her.
Maybe she felt that way, too. He wasn’t sure. Or she was just tired and didn’t really care about the kiss, and he was the one making a fuss out of it because he assumed he meant more to her than he really did. Again, Dawson could’ve lied. Ezi might not even have feelings for him. She might think he was a bad kisser even.
As Harry fell asleep that night, he dreamed about her again. They were alone in Niall’s mansion. The music was playing as they slow-danced but nobody was watching. She started kissing him, and he kissed her back. His hands reached around her to unzip her little pink dress and let it pool around her ankles. She wasn’t wearing anything underneath. His cock was rock hard when they went in for more kissing. Her tongue slid between his lips, her hands reaching for his belt as he fumbled on the buttons of his own shirt. Then he woke up with a tent on his crotch. It was three in the fucking morning, and he was having the worst erection in his life.
Harry slipped his hand under the duvet and started playing with it to relieve some tension, but just as he was about to cum, he heard a loud crash downstairs. Instant boner killer.
“Ezi!” he shouted in frustration, slipped on his boxers and marched out of the room.
“I’m sorry!” Ezi’s voice echoed from downstairs. Harry groaned and headed down to the kitchen where he found her collecting broken pieces of a vase she’d knocked over.
“Just leave it,” he said, grabbing her wrists and pulling her up and away from the glass. “You’d hurt yourself, idiot.”
“I’m sorry. It was dark. I couldn’t see.”
“Why didn’t you turn on the lights?”
She shrugged, which made him laugh, because that was very Ezi of her. “You’re a dumbass,” he said.
“I’m not,” she pouted.
“You are. This only happens to dumbasses.”
“Gosh, you’re an asshole,” she mumbled, arms crossed. She was standing with her back to the counter, and he was blocking her way from the door. Of course she could always sidestep him to leave, but instead, she stayed there, just awkwardly chewing on her nail. She was wearing nothing but a loose white shirt of his. And this time, Harry wasn’t complaining.
“Stop looking at me like that,” she said.
“I’m not even looking at you,” he said, yet staring right at her face.
“You are.”
“How would you know? Unless you’re also looking at me.”
“This is stupid.”
“You’re stupid.”
“No, you—” Ezi’s voice cut off; her gaze dropped to his mouth as if she hadn’t realised how close they were until now. Harry knew that look so well, and usually it would be a sign for him to make a move. But this was Ezi.
“I should go back to bed,” she said, eyes meeting his again.
He nodded, but didn’t get out of the way.
Again, he didn’t know who leaned in first. The moment their mouths collided, all his thoughts evaporated; his walls crumbled, and he was powerless, unable to pull back. There was a kind of power in the way she kissed that he could not resist. He was all hers.
He tightened his arms around her hips as she wrapped her arms around his neck, and he lifted her onto the counter. He could feel his erection growing again in his pants. It didn’t take too long for it to turn fully hard, and she obviously felt it, so she pulled back from their kiss, panting. “It’s…”
“Ignore it,” he breathed, kissing her again, making his way down to her neck and chest. She was squirming now, and he wondered if she was also feeling things down there. “Are you wet?” he asked breathlessly against her lips.
She blinked, confused. “No, I’m dry.”
“No, Ezi,” Harry chuckled, face buried in her neck. “I mean, are you wet between your legs?”
“Oh.” She licked her perfect lips and nodded once. “Yeah. Like most of the time.”
Harry’s whole body went stiff. “What?”
“Like...whenever I think of us kissing,” Ezi admitted innocently.
Harry didn’t know which was hotter. The fact that they were both half-naked and horny right now, or the fact that she got turned on just from thinking of kissing him.
“What do you usually do when it happens?” he asked, adding soft kisses to her lips.
Her fists tightened on his back, her eyelids fluttering. “I r-rub my thighs together.”
Harry smiled as his cock twitched to the thought of it. “Does that feel good?”
Ezi nodded.
“Want me to help you feel even better?”
“You can?”
Harry nodded. He knew it wasn’t right to have sex with her when she didn’t even know what it was, so he wouldn’t rush it. He was just going to help her.
He kissed her once more and got down on his knees between her legs. She looked so hot all spread out in front of him with just his shirt and panties on. She wasn’t lying when she said she was wet. Her panties were completely soaked as he slid them off. She shivered a little yet didn’t protest. She wanted him to help.
He started by kissing her inner thigh. She had the prettiest pussy he had ever seen. He could just cum to the thought of licking her, and he swore he almost did when he took the first try. Her hips jolted, and he glanced up to meet her confused stare.
“If you want me to stop, just say it, okay?”
“Okay,” she replied, biting her nail.
He held her eye contact as he started licking. She tasted as sweet as he’d imagined in those dreams. He still couldn’t believe this was real, but god, the sounds she made sent him to heaven. He dipped his tongue into her and her hands flew to the back of his neck. For a moment she forgot everything and started moving her hips against his face. Fuck. It turned him on so much. He slipped his hand into his boxers and gave himself a few strokes. Then she started to moan, and he worked his hand faster while flicking his tongue into her. He fucked himself until she cummed and made a mess inside his pants, cum dripping onto the floor.
“Is that milk?” Her question got him cackling as he got back to his feet, holding onto the counter on either side of her so he wouldn’t fall. He had never cummed so much; it had literally drained him out.
“No, it’s not milk,” he said softly, tucking her hair behind her ear. She looked so fucked out as well, which made him feel so proud. “Did you like that?”
“Yes,” she said shyly. “Did you?”
“Very much,” he said. “I would kiss you again if I hadn’t just eaten you out. Not sure how you’d like it.”
A look of horror crossed Ezi’s face as she quickly checked between her legs.
“No!” Harry laughed. “I didn’t literally eat you. It’s what it’s called.”
“Oh.”
“Dummy.”
“Is it like...sex stuff?”
“Not really sex, just part of the sex. So yeah, sex stuff,” Harry explained, not sure how to feel about this situation. Now that post-nut clarity had hit, he started to feel a bit guilty, but it didn’t he wasn’t proud of himself for making her cum so hard her legs were shaking.
“I still want to kiss, though,” Ezi said shyly. “I don’t care.”
“Oh, yeah?” Harry smiled. He liked seeing her blush because of him.
With a nod, she pulled him back in.
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plaidbooks · 3 years ago
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3am Cookies
A/N: This came outta nowhere, a fusion of personal strife and this post. It’s Sonny Carisi x reader, and covers the Baker square in @adarafaelbarba​ moodboard bingo
Tags: mentions of insomnia, mentions of yearning/longing
Words: 1049
Taglist: @witches-unruly-heart​  @beccabarba​  @thatesqcrush​ @itsjustmyfantasyroom​ @permanentlydizzy​ @ben-c-group-therapy​  @infiniteoddball​ @glowingmess​ @whimsicallymad​ @lv7867​ @storiesofsvu​ @cycat4077​ @alwaysachorusgirl​  @glimmerglittergirl​ @joanofarkansass​ @caracalwithchips​ @berniesilvas​​  @reading--mermaid​  @averyhotchner​  @mrsrafaelbarba​ @detective-giggles​ @crowleysqueenofhell​ @dreamlover31​
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For the past few days—weeks, months, years—you’ve been feeling lonely, yearning for some sort of romantic love. Sure, you were loved; you had friends and family who loved you. But the monotony of going home to an empty apartment, cooking yourself dinner, and sitting alone was wearing on you. Often times, you found yourself crying while cooking, and sobbing yourself to sleep…if you were lucky enough to actually fall asleep.
Tonight was no different; you had a yearning deep inside yourself, a longing for a romantic relationship. You laid in bed, tossing and turning before you gave up. The clock showed a little past 2am as you dragged yourself to your kitchen.
You were a baker, found comfort in baking. So that’s what you did; you took out ingredients for chocolate chip cookies, and you went to work, trying to lose yourself in the familiarity of baking.
***
After a tough case, Sonny was having a bad bout of insomnia. He tried forcing himself to sleep, tried reading, listening to music, everything that normally took him out. But nothing was helping. Sighing, he pulled on clothes and a jacket, then grabbed his phone and keys. He figured a walk would help settle his mind, or at least exhaust his already tired body enough to sleep.
He left his apartment, locking the door behind him before he headed for the stairs. It was only midnight, so hopefully he wouldn’t be up when the sun was.
 ************************
Sonny glanced at his phone and saw it was getting close to 3am. Hanging his head in defeat, he wandered back home, praying that sleep would come to him. He was having trouble lifting his legs, his exhaustion wearing him down. The elevator in his building was, of course, broken. Stairs it was, then. He dragged himself up the stairs, finally making it to his floor. But as he shuffled to his door, he stopped, sniffing. Something smelt like…cookies? Was he having a stroke, or was that burning toast? Shaking his head, he went back to his neighbor’s door. He pressed his ear to the door, and he could hear running water, metal hitting metal, and the smell of cookies grew stronger.
He knocked on the door in confusion, trying to make sure everything was okay—who makes cookies at this time of night? The water turned off, and there were some muffled sounds before the door opened. His concern deepened as he looked at your tear-streaked face.
“Hey, I live next door and I was just making sure you were okay…” he explained.
You blinked at him. “I’m fine…sorry if I woke you.”
“Then why are you making cookies at 3am?”
Fresh tears pooled in your eyes before you muttered, “because I’ve lost all control of my life.” And then the door gently closed in Sonny’s face, the sound of the lock turning loud in the stunned silence.
Unable to figure out what to say, he simply turned and continued to his apartment. But there was no chance for sleep as his mind turned over the scene with you all night.
***
It was weeks later before you saw Sonny again—in fact, you had forgotten completely about the early morning interaction. That is, until you opened the door to find him standing there after knocking once again, a grocery bag in his hand.
“Hey, uh, could I possibly come in? Make you dinner?” he asked.
You blinked in surprise. “Uh…yeah? Sure?” you replied in shock. If you weren’t caught so off guard, you probably would’ve said no. That night when he showed up as your cookies cooled was the first time you had ever spoken to him. Now, he was moving to your kitchen, searching until he found the utensils he needed.
You followed him in confusion, standing in the doorway and watching him work. He started chopping vegetables, throwing them into the pan to sizzle. It took no time for the delicious smells to fill the apartment, and you felt your heartstrings tug.
“May I ask why you’re in my kitchen, making me dinner?” you finally asked.
Sonny glanced up at you, his expression soft. “I thought you could use a good, homecooked dinner. Not to say that you don’t make your own, but it’s different when someone else does, right?”
“Y—yeah but…but why?”
He fell silent, flipping the vegetables easily, throwing them in the air and catching them back in the pan. He was intensely thinking about his words, making sure this came out right.
“Look, I know what it’s like to feel shitty. I’m not saying that I know what’s wrong in your life, personally, but I—I get it. It’s hard, not having someone to talk to after a long day. You work your ass off, you’re kind to those around you. You’re loved by friends and family, and you love them, too. But it’s not enough. You come home, day after day, to no one. You make yourself dinner, the thought of making a meal for one disheartening, but making too much food is even more depressing somehow. So, you make dinner alone, eat alone, spend your nights alone, then sleep alone. It’s monotonous and soul crushing. And you start to think there’s something wrong with you, because why else would you not find love?”
You were frozen staring at him, blinking away tears and wondering how the hell he knew so much about what you were feeling. That is, unless…. “You’re lonely, too?”
“Y—yeah…” he trailed off, focusing on cooking. Finally, he looked up at you. “I wasn’t positive that that was what you were dealing with; that was more about me. But when you opened the door at 3am a few weeks ago, I felt a—a kindred spirit.”
“That was…exactly my issues. I just…I have such a longing—”
“I do, too. But…but maybe on the bad days, I could come make you some dinner? That way we can be lonely together?”
You nodded before he finished talking. Sure, he was virtually a stranger to you, one that showed up out of nowhere, but it was better than sitting home all night, alone and sobbing to yourself. And besides, he was cute. Maybe, just maybe, this would become a regular thing.
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multi-fandom-imagine · 4 years ago
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A/n: Made the reader be one of the Mermaids from Peter Pan’s story. Also I put a little cameo from one of my favorite animated movies the Fox and The Hound.
Let me know if you want a part two
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It was nice working at the little cafe, it was even better the place was located on the other side of town far away from Fabletown. While you missed your sisters you were just happy to get out of that dump. Snorting you tapped you heel against the chair pushing those thoughts out of your head. You finally watched that Peter Pan movie due to you baby sitting your cousin’s daughter. While you loved Ariel you wished the woman held better movies, not to mention how the Disney movie pissed you off seeing how the movie made you and your sisters out to be. You couldn’t help but blame Wendy, her brothers where fine but she, their was something about her.
You never tried to kill her, the idiot got to close and fell in the water. Her dress weighing her down. You saved her but of course she went and told Peter another story. That you and the others tried to kill her, the bitch made you lose a friend , someone you loved that day and the last you heard the two and long since divorced. Not to mention Neverland...what a joke. If only Neverland was real, would have been better than the shit hole you called home most of your life.
The only good thing that came out of Fabletown was Bigby Wolf, he wasn’t the monster everyone made him out to be but then again neither were you. You heard what happened to him when he was a child, it broke your heart knowing the abuse he suffered but it seemed that fate had a habit of bringing you two together.
You first met Bigby when he was struggling in the water, you were young yourself. Your father had told you to leave him be, if he can’t learn then whats the point but you just couldn’t have let him drown so you took it upon yourself to save the struggling wolf but once you reached the shore you were surprised to see that the wolf was no longer a wolf...but a child diving off into the waters you ignored the child calling after you.
The second time you’d met him you were a little older, a teenager now and you were in a trap. Your father had always said you had a to big of a heart and now you were submerged in the water. Your arms tied above you as the man’s brought a bottle close to your face. You didn’t understand what he was shouting at you, why did he want a tear?
Closing your eyes you wanted to cry but nothing was coming out, it wasn’t until you heard a scream, screams mixed with snarls which soon faded away. It wasn’t until you felt your wrist’s being freed was when you opened your eyes and you finally met his.
Bigby Wolf.
After that it did not take long for you to become fast friends, he would swim in the waters with you, you’d tease him about being slow though he’d shot back mentioning not everyone can have fins and Bigby, he would teach you how to walk, run....dance, you loved dancing with Bigby but of course she had to come along.
Snow White. It felt like the same situation with Peter all over again, that you were losing your best friend, the man you were starting to fall in love again. It was hard to see the man fall for her know matter how she treated him. You never thought he was a monster but you also knew that he wouldn’t return you feelings so one foggy night you fled. You dove into the murky waters and swam away, far away from Fabletown and far away from the man you loved. It was a shame that you missed the familiar brown eyes watching your fin hit the waters, knees hitting the ground as broken howl rang in the night. It was a shame you pegged the mans feelings wrong.
But here you are now a young woman, you had put your past behind you and thanks to the sea witch you know longer have to worry about having a tail well that is if you don’t take the pendent off. Biting you lip you turned your page in the book you were reading only for you to jump hearing someone call out your name.
“Y/n?”
Closing your book you forced a smile to your face but it quickly vanished once you saw who it was. “Bigby?” You couldn’t believe he was standing right in front of you. He was more handsome than you last remember, shaking your head you stood up though it wasn’t long for you to be engulfed in the man’s arms.
“It’s so good to see you y/n.” You felt him nuzzle his nose against your neck as you did your best to blink back tears. 
“It’s good to see you too Bigby.”
Bigby couldn’t believe you were here, still in New York. When you disappeared all those years ago he never thought he’d see you again, that he never get to tell you how he actually felt. Dropping his arms, he stepped back rubbing the back of his neck. You still smelt good, like those beach candles that they sell in the mall.
“I...how are you?”
“I’m good.” You did your best to smile, you were just thinking about the man and he was suddenly standing in front of you and now all those feelings you pushed down came rushing back. “What about you?I...heard you were Sheriff.”
“Not like people appreciate it.” Bigby muttered turning your gaze though you did your best to hide your scoff, placing your hand against his cheek you gave the man a soft smile.  
“Then fuck em Bigby.”
“Ah...listen y/n..would you like to grab a drink maybe-”
“I’d love to but I’m on break-”
You were cut off but a sharp voice, both of you turning your attention to spot a short red head, the woman held some flour on her nose. “Ignore her Bigby! She’s free now.”
“Vixey?”  
The young woman laughed as she bounded over to the wolf, a bright smile on her face. Tod not far behind her, the tall male placing his hand on the woman’s back steadying her.
“Careful Vixey, your pregnant remember?”
The woman rolled her eyes turning her attention back to you as she grasped your hand. “I’m fine Tod! Listen Y/n...have fun! we’re fine alright...besides you deserve a break” She gave you a wink, she may look human but she was still the same fox you befriend all those years ago.
“Are you guys sure.”
“Vixey will never forgive me if we didn’t let you off...have fun y/n.” Tod tipped his head to you. Turning your attention to Bigby you watched as the man shift his weight from one foot to another. Taking his hand you tugged him out the door. 
“Come on Bigby, I know the perfect place.”
Watching you two leave Vixey couldn’t help but smile as she grasped her husbands hand. “They would have such cute kids! Oh you know what would be adorable, if one of their children and one of ours got married and-.”
“Vixey...breath...they need to go on a date before any of that happens...” Chuckle Tod placed a smile kiss to the pouting woman's head. “Though I think it’s cute how much you are like Ma’ma.”
“Oh shut it.”
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sirthisisa-wendys · 4 years ago
Text
The Sacrifice Part 4: Geto Suguru x Fem!Reader
synopsis: close brushes with death are rarely escaped without a few scars.
wc: 1.9k
tw: none - fluff (jesus WHEN are we getting to the NSFW stuff?! Come ON, PLOT)
masterlist
“Now… pour the tea.”
Your hands drift from the saucer to the teapot, and you slowly pour the steaming liquid into the waiting cup. You wonder why Clymenestra has you doing this instead of writing today, but you don’t ask any questions as she makes you repeat the action over and over again. “Strong wrists make for better handwriting,” she announces on your fifth cup of tea. “And you, my dear, need stronger wrists.”
You curse at her mentally on your way back from the room they call the “library”: (l-i-b-r-a-r-y), and when you reach your room, you lay in your bed, wrists exhausted from the exercise. In the time you’d spent learning how to read and write, you’d read four stories with Geto: Mija, the Little Mermaid; The Empress' Nightingale; The Princess and The Pea; and your personal favorite, The Snow Queen.
What really drives your interest, though, are the intricate illustrations and sketches of the characters within the book. It’s almost as if they come to life when you look at them in this way and sometimes, you took the book from Geto just to examine the details and intricacies of each colored page. But he’d sweetly call you back to reality and help you read the next sentence and the next, until the story was over. You’d learned how to sound out words by their letters, like “under”, “jumping”, and “fire”. Some words were easier than others, but you feel like you’re getting the hang of it, albeit, slowly.
So when Geto comes to you a few hours after dinner, you feel brave enough to hold your hands out for the book.
“Can we read the story about the girl who lost her slipper tonight?”
“You mean Settareh? The Persian Cinderella?”
“Yes,” you whisper eagerly, flipping until you see the beautiful woman illustrated in a purple frock. You run your hands over the large letters and then smile to yourself, eyeing the page greedily. You’re so focused on this, in fact, that you barely register Geto sliding in behind you and placing his large arm on the pillows. When he points to the first words, you’re already murmuring them along with him: “Once upon a time…” Then you begin your practice, sounding out the words slowly and methodically, praying you wouldn’t miss any. But if you did, Geto would help you, sounding it out, then letting you try it.
Tonight, you’re stuck on the word “illuminate”.
“I… lum… eh-lum...in… Geto, a little help?” When you turn to face the Dragon God, you’re thoroughly surprised to see his eyes completely closed. His breath comes out in soft hissing sounds, and his hands rest on your thighs as his chest rises and falls evenly. You consider waking him for a moment, but instead, close the book and set it on your nightstand, pulling the covers up around the both of you. Unsure if you should lean into his chest or not (for comfort, you tell yourself), you instead choose to curl up on your side away from him and close your eyes.
And for the first night in many nights, you fall asleep quickly.
_____________________________________________________________
The sunlight that graces your face in the morning awakens you from a deep sleep, and for once, you feel well-rested. It’s only when you try to stretch that you notice the body still laying beside you, arms resting around your frame. When you look to see who it is, you’re shocked that it’s still the Dragon God, now with his face nuzzled into your neck. He groans, fingers twitching, but doesn’t wake, which you’re concerned about at first, but then a thought comes to you.
You start at the top of his head, where his inky, dark locks stem from, and then follow the bridge of his nose past his eyebrows and to his eyes, which are closed. Long lashes rest against his upper and lower lash line, and you can imagine the black irises beneath the lids where green veins run underneath the thin layer of skin. You trace the tip of his nose with your eyes, then down to his lips, where they meet in a thin, pinkish line. When they turn up into a small smile, you look back up into his eyes, which are open now.
You inhale sharply, then almost begin to stammer out a reply, but the Dragon God presses his fingers to your lips to stop you. His eyes blink slowly, then he removes his fingers one at a time before leaning his head down and ghosting his lips over yours. You’re in enough shock to stay still, but another part of you wants him - silently dares him - to finish what he started. You don’t know what you’re doing, but instinct takes over abruptly and you press your lips to him, hoping against all hope that he would take the lead in some respect.
“Y/n…” he whispers against your mouth before pressing his lips against yours again. When your hands come up to cradle his neck and his hands dip below the sheets to pull you closer, something inside of you lights up like a long-forgotten flame, burning you alive and quickly at that. Your mouth moves against his slowly, pressing but not forcing, seeking but not finding. But it doesn’t matter.
Who knew your first kiss would be with a god?
Your first kiss.
You break the seal between your lips immediately and sit up, and Geto hums curiously.
“What’s wrong?” he whispers, sitting up slowly and letting his hands touch your shoulders.
“I--” you break off, confused. What is this feeling in my chest? When you turn to look at his face, it seems he’s utterly lost, but the doors are thrown open by Cly before you can clarify your feelings.
“Your Holiness: His Omnipresence, Toji Fushiguro, is here.” Not a beat passes before Geto tosses off the covers and shoots to his feet.
“Clymenestra, hide her.” Geto leaves without another word, and you hear the words,
“Well, I’ll be damned!” from an unfamiliar voice before you’re hustled into the bathroom by Ariadne and Serena, with Helen not too far behind.
“His Holiness was not expecting His Omnipresence to arrive, was he?” Ariadne hisses while running bathwater in a massive tub.
“No,” Serena answers, stripping you out of your nightgown.
“Wait, who is this?” you wonder, looking around at the women frantically.
“Toji is the God of Death, and the God of Wind’s father,” Helen answers.
Don’t go blabbing your mouth to your stupid father, either.
“Who told?” Helen asks no one in particular, but you recall seeing the pink-haired youth the other day and groan inwardly. You’re already making a mess of things, and you aren’t even immortal yet. Voices are getting louder from the hallway, and the women around you begin to scramble.
“In, in!” Ariadne encourages you, and you step into the lukewarm bath, watching them strip to their undergarments and dunk their robes into the water with you. It appears as if they are pretending to wash their clothes - thus making a protective half-circle concealing you from sight - when the doors to the bathroom fly open, and you hear:
“Oh, shit. Sorry, ladies. Have you seen a little human female around here?” The women squeal, making a scene by clutching at themselves and bending over the tub (and you), and Geto yells,
“Toji, give the ladies some privacy!” The doors slam shut, and the three women return to normal, pulling their clothes out of the water and wringing them out. No one speaks until Ariadne whispers,
“This is why Geto turns us into immortals,” and then places her hands on her forehead, rubbing some phantom headache away. “Toji is always looking for something so he can kill it.”
_____________________________________________________________
With the fiasco behind you, you rest in the bed and attempt to close your eyes. But every time you close them, you hear Toji’s voice and your eyes fly open again, your heart beats faster, and you can feel thick fingers running over your skin. You fly out of your bed and into the corridor, where lamps light your way past the dining room and into the library, where you sit among the various volumes that you don’t even pretend to want to read. But there’s something about these books that makes you feel safe as if their words could protect you from a heinous creature such as Toji Fushiguro.
“Looking for something to read?” you hear from above you, and you look up, following the sound to a ladder poised at the end of the bookshelves. Geto stands atop it, sliding a book back into the highest shelf before sliding back down it. Watching him swiftly descend makes your heart leap a little, and you wonder why you’re just now noticing all of the ways he looks like he was sculpted by a master craftsman. His hair is tied up in a half-bun, and he’s dressed in a simple black and white shuhe and duanda, almost identical to Megumi’s.
“I can’t stop thinking about Toji,” you admit, and he frowns, coming closer to you and swiping two fingers from the right side of your chin to the left, then cupping your cheek in his hand.
“You have nothing to fear, y/n. Toji won’t harm you as long as you remain here in my realm.” You want to be reassured by the words - you really do. But it seems as if even Geto might have to bend to Toji’s will at some point. And you didn’t know if you’d personally be caught in the crossfire. “Please, don’t think about his intrusion.”
“Ariadne told me that Toji is the reason why you make them immortal.”
“She’s telling you the truth,” he affirms, nodding. “He almost didn’t leave today. I had to convince him he was mistaken multiple times.” Geto shakes his head, his hand drifting from your cheek to your thigh. “But when you learn how to read, it will all be rectified.”
“What if he finds me before then?” you breathe, and he takes your shaking hands, pressing tender kisses to your fingers rapidly.
“I won’t let him harm you. I will give you my word as my bond.” You feel a weight lift from your shoulders and sigh deeply. “Now, you should get some rest.” When he pulls you up from your seat and drags you along with him, you wonder where he’s taking you until you see a large wooden door decorated with images of dragons.
Geto pushes it open and reveals a bedroom massive enough to cover the entire city square. He points to his bed in the dim lighting and you crawl into the oversized behemoth, snuggling under a blanket that looks like someone's hand wove the animals, clouds, and nature-scapes into the fabric.
“You can sleep here whenever you desire.”
“But where will you sleep?” you ask, sitting up a little.
“I have a massive side of the bed to myself. Don’t worry, I’m sharing it, not bequeathing it.” When you’re satisfied, he pulls the covers around you, tucking you in properly, then presses a kiss to your forehead. “Sleep well, y/n.”
He sits at a desk as you burrow deeper into the covers, and as you fall asleep, you know you’ll spend every single night in the presence of the Dragon God from now on.
_____________________________________________________________
TAGLIST: @nostaren @sunfloweroranges @jibe-gajima @jotazinha @brownskinnedgirll @leanne-tamashi @vabybizzle @amaris9 @fuegy-fuegy @ambiguous-something @kontentious @missbonekitty @fyotituti @honouredsatoru @sandyscastle @flare-on @sasahime @ggotgame @just4readingfics
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titilationexpress · 4 years ago
Text
StarscreamxReader-Sweet Dreams are made of Screams Ch.1
First ever lemon. Please give your input. Reposting from my Ao3.
You haven’t been able to sleep properly for weeks now. And frankly, you’re wondering if you ever will again in your lifetime.
Yet what caused you to have such a problem with something that once came to you so easily? Ok, maybe not easily. No, scratch that. It was never easy. You had to take some sleeping pills every night to even get a few hours in. Still, how did it happen?
Well, the trouble had started back not long ago. In fact, from what you could recall, it hadn’t even been a full month before your ‘problem’ started. See, you were a fairly average individual. You had your quirks, your habits, the little things that make each person an individual. One particular interest you had though was quite specific, and even more, came from a decade long before you were born.
Transformers.
Oh yes, your beginnings were humble when you first started with the franchise, and you looked with wide, awe-filled eyes. Your starting place was where you first discovered it, the one show that will remain in your heart forever. From that, you got into the characters, the story, the lore of what started as a toyline for young boys (though it was clear now that both sexes had a love for it), all of it. And from there, you went on to past and future generations from your starting point, and now, you were a certified Transformers fan! Hell, one of your favorite sites ever is TFWiki.
With this entrance into the fandom, you took to devouring everything that you could: the cartoons and animes, the books, the movies, fanfiction, fanart, fan comics, doujinshi, anything and everything that you could get your hands on, you did. And not long after, you began contributing yourself, drawing, writing, whatever you could to make your stand and have your place in the community. At first, it worked well enough, you weren’t exactly prolific, yet you were doing well enough. You managed to get a few requests for certain things to be drawn/written, believe it or not, but still, you weren’t overly big.
And then came your discovery of the Reader genre.
What is the Reader genre? Why, as far as you were concerned, only one of the greatest genres ever to be conceived! Well, to be more accurate, the form of writing wasn’t anything new, remembering the ‘Choose Your Adventure’ books. It seemed said genre now spread everywhere, you being very aware of the numerous games and dating sims that ranged from well done and engaging to outright ridiculous and stupid (but those were fun in their unique way). And since you didn’t have any knowledge or time to do that, you settled for writing them yourself. Your first piece was a simple Optimus x Reader with the standard plot and standard outcome, which was a declaration of love and a resulting kiss with the Autobot Leader. You were NOT expecting the overflow of response that it had gotten. You were quite shocked, but at the same time, overjoyed. Soon, you decided to try your luck with another one, this one being of Bumblebee, the scenario being mostly the same, albeit with a bit more cutesy fluff, as in your mind, Bumblebee was always the little guy. This one was just as successful, and you beamed, having finally found your calling.
Since then, you were getting requests left and right for more and more choices, all spanning different universes. From the animated cartoons to the comics, different universes, everything that spanned from the most well-known incarnations to the more obscure. It was through these that you managed to get even more into the Transformers multiverse as a whole and even discovered some truly overlooked gems. You opened yourself up to the people and declared that you would write whatever they requested, but you had some taboos that you wouldn’t touch. But any scenario, character, and universe, all of that was fair game.
You had originally begun working on more mundane, typical stories with expected outcomes (but sweet ones nonetheless), yet over time, the requests and your imagination began getting more creative and crazy. Soon, you were delving into several different areas that you had never touched. Elves, goblins, mermaids, vampires, forbidden love, love triangles, all of these were laid at your feet. And while it took a bit to find your rhythm, all of this having come on you so fast, you eventually got it and soon, you had a wide collection of X Reader stories, ranging from G1 to Prime and IDW’s run.
You mainly did Autobots, for you had to admit that writing for them, while they were still complex characters, came somewhat easier for you. True, each of them had their faults and quirks (both from canon and headcanons people had come up with), yet they were still the good guys, and even those with more questionable morality still came out as heroes in the end. But then one day came where you were asked to write about a Decepticon. This threw you for a loop, as, while the thought had intrigued you, you had been writing for good guys for some time, so a total shift in direction was somewhat off-putting and scary. Possibilities of it being too saccharine or sweet, or getting the characters wrong or out of character scared you a bit, yet still, you wanted to test the waters and see if you could do it. And if you could, this would open up so much more for you.
And judging from the input, you had just struck gold yet again.
Soon, not only were you flooded with requests for Autobots, but now their foes were also available, and, as you found out, people had just as much an attraction for the darkness as they did for the light. Again, the same scenarios were implemented, yet now, they had something of a darker edge to them, which allowed you to explore some subjects you couldn’t touch with the Autobots without toning it back somewhat. In a way, the Decepticons provided you with more freedom. Ironic, seeing as Megatron’s motto was “Peace through Tyranny.”
That said, you went through the list of available characters throughout the generations, and so far, those had been garnering quite a following as well, your Autobot and Decepticon stories neck and neck in popularity. Everything seemed to be going well for you.
Then that one question came.
‘Hey, where’s Starscream?’
Then another.
‘Could you write one about Starscream?’’
Then another.
‘Hey, hate to bother you, yet I think that Starscream could use some love here.’
More and more questions and requests for the particular Decepticon filled your messages, and frankly, you were at a loss on what to do. Truth be told, you and Starscream had something of a complicated history. When you had gotten into Transformers, you had heard of the character, yet at first, you never saw why he had gained such a large fanbase. True, he wasn’t a bad character, yet he wasn’t your favorite. But over time, as you wrote more and more for the Decepticons, as well as read X Reader stories from other people, you slowly began to, as one would say, gain an interest in the winged robot. And soon, you found yourself enamored by the smug jerk as well.
But this only made you reluctant to write for him.
True, when you started writing for the Decepticons, you were allowed to experiment with some more intimate and extreme situations, yet with Starscream...it was different. It was hard to explain, yet whenever you got a request to write for him, your brain seemed to seize up. Thoughts came to your head that you had tried to banish, thoughts that came every time you saw the Seeker’s name. You had no idea what was going on or why this was so difficult, yet it seemed the Silver Snake had taken to making your fingers not touch the keyboard.
You had no idea at all. Or at least, that’s what you told yourself.
And since you had gotten the slew of requests, your sleep problems began. The moment you shut your eyes, the scenario began all over again.
You needed no introduction to where you were or what you were seeing, it all quite familiar to you now. Around you were towering walls of a silvery mauve color, the only available light from above sparse and leaving several areas coated in darkness. This place was all too familiar, for you had seen it many times in your watching and reading of Transformers.
You were in Decepticon headquarters.
Your dreams had been filled with the base of the enemy faction of the Autobots, and at first, it had shocked you as to why you were here at all. But over time, night after night, you came here, and soon, you grew accustomed to the sight of it. You took on the form of your Transformers persona/OC or remained in your regular, human form, whatever pleased you as if you had some control over this environment. Yet as you grew more familiar (you were never sure if you’d be comfortable), you began to explore the place, finding that, to your surprise, there was no one here. No signs of any sort of life aboard the ship, and while it took a good while, you traveled everywhere you could think of, and still, nothing. No Megatron, no other Decepticons, no one but you had been aboard.
At least, that was what you believed when you first had this dream. Then, you heard it. The voice. His voice.
“Oooh, I’m the Boogie Man,”
Singing, serenading, just loud enough for you to hear, yet low enough for you to know it was far away. It always started this way.
“The terrible, horrible Boogie Man,”
Your ears/audio receptors registered the voice as it echoed throughout the ship. When the dreams had begun, you knew immediately who was singing, and then you were more surprised at how it sounded. Sure, it had its infamous high pitch, yet it wasn’t bad to listen to. Daresay, it was rather enjoyable in its own way.
“I come in the middle of the night and frighten bad little girls like you.”
The first few times you had this dream, it would almost always startle you, yet it led you to look down the other balls and corridors of the ship. The results were always the same though: no one was aboard. No one but you...and him.
“Beware, better have a care,”
The song changed each and every time you entered the dream, tonight being a track you heard on a video game you played not too long ago (Bioshock 2 you believed). Yet the songs always had the same effect on you.
“I’m going to follow you everywhere.”
Despite your trepidation, you wanted...needed to follow it.
“I crawl through the ceiling and the wall and call on bad little girls like you.”
Walking, then running, you traversed the winding path before you, taking several left and right turns, having no sense of direction but that voice. A voice that, despite its infamous sound, held power to it, a siren’s song in a way. Ironic, you thought. Still, you followed, for you had reached your limit. You knew what would happen if you didn’t find him.
“I’ll torture you and hunt you,”
And never leave.
I’ve got you where I want you,”
And never let you escape this dream.
“A victim of my dark and dirty plot.”
And he knew it too. He knew he had power over you. And you hated it.
“And at the slightest whim, I’ll tear you limb from limb,”
Or…
“In other words, I’ll put you on the spot.”
Did you?
“Oooh, I’m the Boogie Man,”
You were close. So dangerously close.
“The terrible, horrible Boogie Man.”
Just a turn around the corner.
“I come in the middle of the night and frighten…”
He paused, you stopping in your tracks at what you saw. There he was. Situated behind violet bars of energy in a cell, the Decepticon stood there with his arms folded and looking upon you with satisfied, hungry red eyes.
“...bad little girls like you.”
It was him.
Starscream.
Your favorite incarnation of Starscream, those ruby orbs boring into your own eyes/optics. You stepped back from the cell, eyes/optics wide at what was before you. Sure, if you were to go by dream logic, some part of you always knew that it was ‘him’ that awaited you at the end of this journey, but still, to actually see him, standing there so casually when it looked like he was locked up, it chilled you. As if he had absolutely nothing to worry about.
“My, my, so you finally found me,” he said, his voice perfectly matching the incarnation that stood before you. “Or rather, I found you. Whichever way it goes, it doesn’t matter,” he smirked. “For I already know the outcome.”
You blinked a few times, still trying to see if who was before you had truly been there. “St…” you began nervously. “Starscream?”
The Decepticon chuckled and stepped out of the shadows, allowing you to fully see him. “In the mesh,” he said. “And I see that introductions won’t need to be made either, will they, Y/N?” your eyes/optics went wide. “That’s right, pet, I know everything. This IS your mind after all.”
“Wh-What?” you stammered. “I don’t understand.”
Starscream’s grin only grew wider. “You will soon. You will understand EVERYTHING.”
Just what was he talking about? From the looks of it, he seemed to be enjoying your tension and trepidation, very amused. Your mind went into fan mode, recalling every fact you had known of Starscream and his various incarnations, which then led to you going on the defensive. “You…” albeit, it took you a try or two. “You’re the one that’s been doing this to me. Giving me these...these weird dreams.” the Decepticon didn’t answer, yet it was clear that he already knew that the secret was out (even if it wasn’t much of one). “You’re also the one that’s not letting me have one decent night’s sleep without being trapped here!”
“Or me serenading you?” he added in. “How do you like it? I don’t do it often, yet if I wish, I can stretch out my vocal components if I want.”
Your cheeks grew hot. Damn, this bastard was already making you too wound up, and you had only gotten a few words in! “Well...I’m here now,” you said, trying to sound confident, and, ironically enough, trying to channel Megatron’s dominating aura. “So, what do you want?”
This didn’t phase him in the slightest. Despite him being the one locked up, you were the one who felt like his prisoner. “I think you already know that dear Y/N,” he said. “But to put it simply, I’m feeling left out.”
You were confused. “Left out?” You asked. “Left out of…” you paused. Indeed, you knew well what he was talking about. “My...my reader inserts.”
Starscream nodded. “Quite an extensive library you’ve built up over time.” He told you. “Though your choices could be much better.” he scoffed. “Of course goody-good Prime would be on the list, along with the rest of the Auto-dolts.” Then he grimaced. “Yet there are those that actually want to FRAG Megatron? Ugh! No taste at all!” He then looked back at you. “You’ve written for everyone, from either faction, of every series,” he then pouted. “But none for me. Truly, Y/N, I’m hurt.”
You felt quite awkward. True, while you were known online for your stories, it was your username and persona they were seeing. They weren’t someone that was right around the corner that could walk in and see you writing these things. While you loved doing it, the thought of your family or friends discovering you wrote in this genre was a thought you dared not entertain, as you swore that you’d die from embarrassment. Thus, you were very careful whenever you did it, your room completely locked tight so you could focus without fear of someone barging in. The only times you left during your writing periods were for bathroom breaks and/or to eat/drink something. It was a big secret...and thinking about it now, it was a secret no more to the most infamous backstabber in all of Transformers. You had been found out.
“Well...so what? Are you going to keep haunting me until I do?” you asked. “You can’t do that!”
Starscream didn’t seem phased by this at all. That damned smirk of his both frustrated and made you excited, a combination that left you very unsure. “Can’t I?” he asked.
You didn’t like his tone. “What do you mean?”
“Well, let’s consider for a moment, Y/N,” he said. “You believe that I’m merely a figment of your imagination, yes? A stubborn thought that is lodged in your subconscious. Am I right?” you shifted a bit, knowing well what he was saying would lead to something else. Something that probably would flip everything on its head. “Well...who’s to say that I am?”
“I...I don’t understand.”
“Of course you don’t. But what I say might just jog your memory.” he then went on. “In your last X Reader, you spoke of multiple versions of the characters, such as Prime and...yes, even Megatron,” Starscream scoffed. “And how it would’ve been peculiar if they met. Then, one of your readers linked you to a page on the TFWiki.” Starscream then chuckled. “Quite an array of knowledge, I must say. Especially for a primitive species such as yourselves. Anyway, said page spoke of what is labeled as the Transformers Multiverse, which, if I may say, is an excuse for you all to toy with and shape us into what YOU want. But back on track, you did a small amount of research on that, then went on about your business.”
“...and what does this have to do with why you’re here?”
Starscream smirked. “Then, after some time, you went and read the entries of me from various series and incarnations. To get a better feel for what you were thinking of writing. What you wanted to write. Only, you never did.” You were about to speak again, but the seeker spoke again before you could. “There was one detail from my earliest incarnation that spoke of a ‘ghost’, an immortal spark that couldn’t be snuffed out. One that could travel through space and time.” He drew closer to the bars. “And then discovered a way to travel through dimensions. Wherein, I found out all about how so many humans have seen my reality behind a television screen.”
What was he talking about? What did any of what he said mean? It was then that it all clicked for you. Sparks were essentially the ‘soul’ of a Transformer, which Starscream’s was indestructible. You read that he made an appearance in Beast Wars, and had made cameos elsewhere. What was before you right now...mere feet away…” Are you.. “ you stammered. “Are you really…”
The Decepticon nodded. “Yes. Yes, I am, Y/N.”
You were left speechless. No. No, this...this was impossible. It...it couldn’t be him! It couldn’t be the REAL Starscream! He was a cartoon, no, a toy! A damn toy! A toy from the eighties that were made to be marketable to young boys (and the girls that were secretly into it) among several other toys that were made be marketable to young boys (and again, the girls that were secretly into it)! There was NO way he was in your mind right now! He wasn’t real! He wasn’t real! He wasn’t-
“You step out into the chilled air, wrapping your arms around yourself as you do.” the Decepticon suddenly began. “He’s there to pick you up. He’s there to pick you up. You’re both terrified and exhilarated, eager to start the night, but also to make it fly by just enough so nothing embarrassing would happen between the two of you.” your jaw dropped when you heard him say that. How did he- “Know that you recently read over your very first entry? The one that started it all?” he then ‘rolled’ his eyes. “The one that clearly displayed that you had little taste at first?”
Of course, you did! That was from your very first X Reader story! It told of Optimus Prime and you, a human, in a relationship. Odd start, you knew, especially given that Transformer x Human relations was sort of controversial, yet overall, it wasn’t a bad one. Still, the fact he knew that…” No.” you said aloud. “It can’t be.”
He smiled. “I am.”
You stepped back until you hit a wall. “S-Starscream.” you stuttered. “You’re him. You’re the...the real one.” he was quite satisfied with your reaction, you clearly flustered yet cautious at the same time. The sensation drove you mad. But then you remember, this was just a dream! You were just making up all this stuff! You were relieved by this revelation...yet at the same time, you were...curious. Just where would this go if you continued? “Well...well, what are you doing here? What do you want?”
“Exactly as I said before, I feel left out,” Starscream told you. “And considering my popularity in this universe, I’d think me being here should tell you something.”
You knew what he wanted. “You want me to write about you.” it was obvious. “I-I know. I mean, I’ve been wanting to. Really, I have. But...but I...I just…” you sighed. If you knew Starscream (and you had at least a decent enough faith you did), you knew that this could potentially earn you his anger. Yet, to your surprise, he didn’t try to order you around. Instead, he seemed like he already knew you were going to say that.
“You can’t,” he said for you. “Understand, I’m the one in YOUR mind. Thus, you could say, I know everything about you. A perk of being something that, in this universe, started out as a drawing on a piece of paper.” you were confused, this seemed to humor Starscream even more. “Oh, come now. Surely you know that concept art exists, right?”
All of this was so insane for you, yet it was then that you felt the urge to speak up and say something for yourself for once. “Well, if you’re here from the...well, YOUR universe, what are you doing here in the first place?”
“Why, this is one of the few places I win!” Starscream exclaimed. “Of course, when I first came here, I was quite perplexed about how I and many others were known as products from a company called ‘Hasbro’. But overtime, I discovered your version of the internet, and, well, as you flesh bags say, the rest is history.” he then continued, not giving you a chance to speak. “And bring that I am an idea in this universe, I can go freely as I wish, peering into minds,” his red eyes looked upon you. “Become one’s permanent muse or vice versa.”
God, you felt weird. You felt so confused and conflicted. You wanted to sink into the wall to get away, but you also wanted to know more about this. You had to know more. You needed to know more. “So…?”
“So, I’ve come to you, as you’re truly in need of some inspiration,” Starscream said. “As well as some changes in your thinking.”
“Like what? Worshiping the ground you walk on?” you ask, feeling a little bolder.
“Oh, you already do.” he said. “If you didn’t desire me, I wouldn’t be here.” he grinned at your shocked expression. “That’s right, Y/N, I know what truly holds you back from writing about me. Your fears, your anxieties, your loves and lusts.” you had no words. “You fear that you may get me wrong if you will. That I won’t be in character. Or you fear that you won’t be able to satisfy the wants of your readers, as I AM so highly anticipated. Or…” he leaned closer to the bars, the only barrier separating you two. “You fear exploring those more intimate pleasures with me. You’re intimidated and unsure. After all, writing for Autobots is easy, yet us Decepticons are more difficult. But it HAS awakened things in you that you wish to explore on either side. Things that you are dying to let out.”
You had no words, he was completely right. Damn him! The smug bastard knew he had you in the palm of his hand...and yet also probably knew that’s what made you so hot and bothered right now! “So...what? Are you here to force me to write those things with you in them?”
“Dear Y/N, I can’t technically make you do anything,” Starscream told you. “Oh yes, I can stay and torment you night after night until either I pass onto another universe or I grow bored of you, but my reason being here is for both our benefits.”
“How?”
“It’s quite simple,” he said. “We shall go through those scenarios in your head.” his ruby red optics bore into yours/your eyes. “Together.” he then reached out from in between the bars and traced a digit around your jawline. “Believe it or not, I want to help you, Y/N.” his voice was smooth and sultry, something you never expected from a voice like his. “But only you can allow me to do so.” he then stepped back from the bars. “This prison of mine is something you’ve constructed from your fears and insecurities. Allow yourself to embrace what you fear…” he then extended his hand again, yet stepped back as well, sinking into the darkness. “Only then, will you truly be free.”
You were at a standstill. You knew what he wanted, and, to your horror, you were wanting to give it to him. Deny it all you want, this was something that had been in your mind ever since you got the first request for the Seeker. You approached the bars, trying to get some sign that he was still there. Surely he hadn’t left you, had he? No, he hadn’t. He was still there, you could feel him. Watching, waiting, and perhaps, knowing what you would do before you did.
Yet would you do it? Would you bite into that forbidden fruit?
Some while after pondering this question, you looked at the cell, the energy bars vanishing. Why fight it when you could already taste the sweet tartness of said fruit in the back of your throat?
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rosyl-stuff · 4 years ago
Text
The Hate Between Us
Paring: Jeong Yunho (Ateez) x reader
Genre: forbidden love, fantasy, The Little Mermaid inspired (not really a retelling), a bit angsty, a bit fluffy
Warnings: violence (nothing too graphic)
Word Count: 1.9k (7-8 minutes reading time)
Synopsis: You are a siren who needs to rip out the hearts of humans as a tribute to the Sea Queen. Yunho is a pirate who hunts sirens. Will you two find your happily ever after?
It was a peaceful night. When you broke through the surface of the water, you were not immediately blinded by the sun, so you could spot Yunho straight away. He was standing up to his ankles in the water and wandering around waiting for you.
When your paths first crossed, it was anything but peaceful. You were on the lookout for prey because the Sea Queen was expecting tribute again. Every year, each siren had to prove their loyalty by bringing her a heart of a human. It was the only way to get recognition in your world. Everything else did not matter. Love did not exist for heartless monsters. From a young age, you tore out the hearts of sailors, pirates and sometimes princes who were on adventures so that the sea queen would recognise you as worthy.
Yunho was a pirate. But not just any pirate. He was part of a notorious siren hunter crew. They were known for their swift and brutal style. None of the captured Sirens ever came back alive. A few were given as trophies and compensation for old crimes to the various royal houses of humans. There they were kept in small pools of water and put on display. Sometimes they were even hunted for fun in those pools. Those that were not given away alive died on the ship while their scales were removed. Siren scales have healing properties for humans and were a much sought-after commodity for which people were willing to pay a lot. This is how Yunho and his crew earned their living.
However, they were not the only ones with this business idea. Other pirates quickly followed suit and, pirate fights in waters where sirens frequented became more common. One of these fights took place when you were actually looking for prey. Both crews were too busy fighting each other to notice you. It was an easy game for you. The first pirate to fall into the water, you would grab and rip out his heart before they drowned. You didn't have to wait long until the first one fell into the water. He tried to swim but wasn't very good at it. There was also a big gash on his side. You quickly swam to him and pulled him further into the depths. When you saw his face for the first time, you hesitated. Most people looked at you with love because they were still under the spell of your singing. But he only looked at you curiously. He didn't seem to be afraid either. His face was angelic and, you couldn't help but look at him a little longer. You had hesitated too long because the next moment a harpoon shot only a few centimetres past you. One of the pirates Yunho was fighting against had followed you into the water. He could swim and dive well and was moving towards you. Without giving it a second thought, you swam away with Yunho in tow. He had run out of air by then and fainted. You laid his motionless body on a rock. You didn't want to risk getting caught by any of the pirates and decided to go somewhere else to get your heart for the sea queen, so you abandoned him there.
Luckily for him, his crew found him quickly and, he survived. The lack of oxygen had made him forget what exactly had saved him. He could only remember your face, but he kept it to himself, even though he dreamt of you every night.
As you still did not bring a heart to the sea queen, you were pressed for time and became more careless. So it happened that you were caught in a net and pulled out of the water onto a ship. You tugged at the net, but no matter what you did, it wouldn't let up. When the net was pulled off your head, you saw his face a second time. He recognised you and, you could see his inner conflict in his eyes. You stopped struggling and wondered if it would help to beg him. He glanced over his shoulder at his comrades. Then he held his hand in front of your face. "I know I owe you one. Now bite my hand and then get off the boat and swim as far away as you can." You hesitated while Yunho gave you an encouraging nod. He moved his hand gently to your lips. Then you bit gently into it. "Harder!" he growled, "It's supposed to be realistic!" You obeyed and, his face contorted in pain. Then he cried out and at the same time pushed you back into the water. You swam away as fast as you could. You tasted his blood for days to come and, his face wouldn't let you go now either. You had heard stories of soul mates. Was he perhaps yours?
So you couldn't help but stay close to the ship all the time. Never too close because Yunho probably wouldn't help you a second time. One night he sat alone on the deck and stared into the far distance of the ocean. Your heart longed to see his face. So you carefully swam closer, fervently hoping that no one was sitting by the radar and that everyone else was asleep. Yunho noticed you embarrassingly early. He grinned at you: "Can't stay away from me, I guess."
So you spent almost every night together. Except when you had to fetch a heart, then you disappeared for a while. In the beginning, Yunho was sure that one day you would get his heart and that you just enjoyed playing with your prey. But you also doubted Yunho's sincerity. After all, you saw him regularly dragging sirens out of the water with his crew and killing them. At any time, one of you could become the victim of the other. Nevertheless, you began to trust each other. Yunho was actually a very gentle person and, his brutal way of life affected him more than he wanted to admit to his crew and especially his captain. It was different with you because he could tell you everything without being judged or called weak. You simply listened and comforted him. You were fascinated by his stories and loved to listen to him. But what you liked most was that he simply liked you. You didn't have to prove yourself to be noticed by him. When you were together, it was just the both of you and not the suffering your species caused each other.
But it was not only the hatred of your species that kept you apart. Yunho had no fin, could not breathe underwater and was a terrible swimmer, even if he tried to get better. You had no legs and couldn't move at all on land. Every time Yunho's ship docked at a port, you met in a small, hidden bay. There you could be closest to each other and, the risk of being caught was lowest.
Tonight was one of those nights. You watch Yunho pacing back and forth. Sometimes you wondered what your legs would look like. Would they be as long as Yunho's or be more on the short side? Would you have muscular thighs like him or, would they be thick or thin like other humans? Sometimes it was the other way round and, you wondered what his tail fin would look like. What colour would it be?
Yunho spotted you and in an instant, a grin spread across his face. He got deeper into the water. You swam towards him. When Yunho was waist-deep in the water, you reached him. Without effort, he grabbed your waist and pulled you out of the water so that you were at eye level. You wrapped your arms around your neck and smiled at him.
"Hi love!" he murmured and put his lips on yours.
It was a very loving kiss.
"I missed you!" you breathed against his lips.
"I missed you too!" he murmured and gave you another quick kiss.
You gently stroked his hair and couldn't really stop grinning. Yunho noticed this and asked,
"Did something good happen today?"
You nodded, yet you hesitated. Yunho wanted you to be careful because you would be executed immediately if anyone found out about you. Yunho was close friends with his crew and the captain. They might be angry or disappointed, but they probably wouldn't kill him. Cautious was not a quality you would use to describe yourself. Especially when it came to finding a solution to your problem.
"Now tell me! What have you done?"
"I was in the forbidden library!"
Yunho sighed. As the name suggested, no one but the Sea Queen was allowed to enter the library. But you had managed to bribe one of the guards to let you in. You took your time and looked for a way for you and Yunho to be together.
"Don't worry, everything went well," you said to reassure Yunho.
"And what if it hadn't gone well? Y/N, you have to stop putting yourself in danger like this."
You pouted. Yunho sighed and gave you another kiss.
"Go on, spit it out! What have you found out?"
You gave him a big smile and, he couldn't help but smile right back at you.
“I found a way to make a potion. The potion will give me legs,” you said excitedly.
Yunho looked at you surprised: “Really? What about the ingredients? Are we able to get them without dying?”
You nodded: "Yes, most of them grow on the land, but with your help, it should be no problem!"
Yunho still looked sceptical.
“Come on, Yunho. Please be happy about it. It won't hurt trying it. None of the ingredients is poisonous."
"I'm just worried. There has to be a catch. I highly doubt a potion will just give legs with no side effects."
And he was right. You tried to hide it, but Yunho noticed it right away. He gave you a soft kiss on the cheek as you avoided eye contact.
“What is the side effect?” he asked you softly.
“Please let us try anyway.”
“Tell me first!” Yunho demanded.
You knew arguing wouldn’t bring you anywhere, so you sighed and said: “If I get my legs, every step I take will feel like I’m walking on broken glass.”
You breathed out audibly and pulled you closer to him.
“You know that will be very painful?" he asked.
You just nodded, even if you have never felt how a piece of glass cute into your body. But it can’t be worse than the pain you felt in your heart when you and Yunho are not together.
“I don’t think I can let you do that!” he mumbled into your hair.
“Please,” you begged, “I don’t want to be separated from you any longer. I want to be together with you.”
“You know that I want that as well. I just don’t want you to suffer the rest of your life," he said with a sigh, "Let me think about it, ok?"
You nodded and gave him a feverish kiss. The discussion was over for now and, you both concentrated on giving each other all the love you could.
Maybe you would find another way to be together. Find a way to bring peace to your species. Maybe you are the start of a change. Maybe you find your happily ever after or, you end up in a tragic love story.
Or you are just another story for hopeless romantics?
A/N: Hope you enjoyed this one. If you liked the concept, I would recommend reading "To Kill A Kingdom" by Alexandra Christo.
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