#I'm so salty i could sink in the dead sea... | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

scrivenersapplesauce · 23 days ago

Text

a novel in fragments

to be felt through each vein while they hold your hands, a feeling I have yearned and haven't experienced in a while. I find her staring at me sometimes, not often yet stealing glances here and there. Whenever I'm not close by her-- as i did too. i looked at her more than I intended to. More than my consciousness had planned for me, as if she's fishing my eyes to herself. A whirlpool of uncertainty, instead of making you fear it, to swim away, I wanted to sink. i wanted to drown. i wanted to let my body and mind be pushed out of air inside and be filled to the brim with the salty water of the sea. Be overladen with her astuteness for me. i liked the way she tiptoed on her foot and spreading her arms out a little like a penguin when she walked. Sway her hair, too, like “look how pretty my hair is” to the world. How she talks in an undertone, her voice a little raspy with a pulp. How she mispronounces a few words, talking too fast. How her eyes never blink when she does so and only when she's over with a period, talking from one topic to another, shifting from everything in between. How her lips purse smally when she's thinking about what to say or pauses between her speech. i like her. The simmering brown of her eyes glimmer even when there's no light. How she lifts herself to every decision she makes and just goes with it, never caring about the consequences for what it might hold. Even she knows what would happen, that doesn't stop her. She's adventurous, impulsive, stouthearted yet unbelievably charming. i adore her. Her hands, brittle yet smooth to touch. She held mine when we were crossing the road, which I hadn't intended on either. The ease and emptiness when i hold her sparks something that for so long hasn't. It feels nice, really nice how her hands feel on mine. she feels nice. i might adore her a little too much.

....i, was noticing a little too much We talk, and in every word, every syllable, every period-- I question myself is this verisimilitude? Or have I been seen through this entire facade? I felt hesitant, I wanted to back out. I wanted to run away turn everything off because I was going the same road again like all those times, begging with to beget that this time it's different like every other times. i was spiralling down the same spiral again, my head hurt, my chest hurt my legs felt heavy, i didnt wanted to walk any more, i felt myself go silent, my eyes seemed to go dull, i could feel the blood in my chest rush in waves, i could feel the tsunami crawl on me again, the carnation of my own wishes that will break me in to so many pieces yet again, burrowing hollow abyss for what my choices, indifference to bias pushed me over to decompose, where it took me my all to climb back up, from a place i could see everything yet nothing at all, hear everything yet nothing at all and feel absolutely bone chillingly nothing. I didn't want to trust myself, I didn't want to trust my brain when it calculates with emotions so heavy already, am I that far gone already?

And Yet

i gave in.

succumbed myself to her.

sank in her lips and her palms.

It started with me knowing it's a tragedy, and I made it known to us as a catastrophe. Maybe it's the way, she holds my hand, maybe it's the way she says my name with a brief pause only to throw a weird question or sentence at me. Maybe it's the way her eyes flutters when she stares at me, the way she flirts about every little thing about me, the way her energy just befalls on me, the way we share so similar things the way she's dead focus on one thing and everything all at the same time. Maybe it's the way how i feel around her, when my eyes are on her, my hands in hers, how our feet matches the same rhythm when we're walking, how she waddles around, how her hair sways. How we talk through every nerdy stuff and wish for more time. Maybe it's so many things altogether, but it's definitely her for what she is, exactly how she is, her being and behaviour and her utmost carelessness with so much pride that i just can't hate but adore. i want to watch her sleep, i want to keep holding her hands while we explore more, until there are no rivers, no cities, no towns, no tea stalls, no alleyways we haven't been to. i want to share the sky with her, a sky full of clouds dyed in a red hue, a sky full of stars in the countryside, a sky completely illuminated with the reflecting light of the moon. i want to click her pictures to immortalize her, i want us to be in pictures together, i want us to be a part of history where we could tell infinite stories, i still wanna keep looking up at her while she shares her struggles, i want keep hugging her every seven minutes, give her kisses on her temple and on the back of her neck. i wanna cry together with her. i want to stay out late with her, feed her, cook for her, build a house somewhere only we'd know far from responsibilities and the only responsibilities we'd have is each other.i want us to spend so much time together i cannot--she cannot find it more fun, more at peace and comfort with any other person in this world swaddling with 8billion lives. I want to embrace her in the beach, our bodies are drenched in sweat, out of breath our throats dry to the point of bleeding, but we won't stop, even after we've finished so many times. Being in an absolute embrace is the closest a human being can get to another. I want her to embrace me so dreadfully that our neighbours wouldn't be able to sleep at night. I want to do it with her at every any given time, the moment she gives me the cue, the second she gets comfortable with it.

I want to embrace her until we discover a new planet in the solar system. i want her. I didn't want her to leave. Yet, this chance is something that i'd wish for, even wish for my worst to get. I wanted her to stay with me, stay with me even if a hundred miles away, a thousand miles away, on the moon, in Mars even as far as the fucking sun. I want her to stay with me, maybe with texts, a call, a letter from a fucking pigeon i wouldn't care less i wanted her to stay with me. For i adore her, too much. I fucking adore you! You hear me!? i want you to stay because i might just to grow to love you.

These seven days felt like all those books i've been reading since seventh grade, but, it won't end in the way i so wish it had. I was a little late, time was late, the universe was late, destiny was late, fate made for it to be late. “Maybe it was for the best” i would never say that and end the story. If it was for the best, i'd have been in the same plane to Australia with her if not the same plan the same destination if not the same destination maybe another city a thousand kilos away but in the same soil that both of our feet are touching and the same clouds that we could be seeing. The universe was against it. And maybe even if not in the same country, at least some place away from this cage of hell dweller's paradise, free to run away free to run away--anywhere--and if I could, I’d make it to her. And I blame God, if He exists. I blame the world, my father, my family… even myself, to an extreme relentless retortion, all of that to turn this into a “could’ve been.”

we were friends, until we weren't we weren't more, weren't less, it was transparent we weren't dating, though i wished it was aberrant to time and fate, i wanted to fight against i blamed the world for what it fenced i blamed god, for creating time, for what it commenced i'd want her to smile, i'd want her to be free i'd want her to jump, cry, laugh and love, to every degree but then again, i'd want her with me. Her lofty steps and fluttering mouth, such calming eyes her warmth eases me so, hugs that feel so whole her lips on mine, an ever lasting demise we weren't lovers, until we could've been a novel in fragments, an ending that'll forever be a could've been

0 notes

nyabbattack · 3 months ago

Text

Beach

I was assigned to go on a field trip alone with the General. Apparently I was the only one assigned for this expedition, as I was the only one who wasn’t born here in the States and haven’t had the chance to see anywhere else other than the facility I grew up in. The General told me it was a surprise, something he wanted to show me what he deems to be ‘special’ for him. I was told we will depart tomorrow on Friday, 21th at 0300. The General told me to take it easy’, but I took my precautions to be wide awake and ready for when the day comes.

When the day arrived, the General told me I shouldn’t pack any of my essentials, as it will only take a few hours or so, and this isn’t my regular mission. I hope that means the trip to our destination will either be in 2 hours, 3 hours maximum. 4 hours or above is not a ‘few’ anymore, that is a lot of hours. Fortunately, I still kept my Beretta 92 for comfort as I refused to step out of my room without at least one comfort item, even when I was given sweet delicacies to leave. We departed the facility at exactly 0300 using one of General’s personal vehicles, and before stepping inside it I felt the cold, summer air brush against me as I got outside.

The trip felt long, it did not seem to be more than a few hours. All I could do was see the big electrical beings pass by our movement one by one, as if we are just like the wind going against the big, towering beings made with electricity, feeling the car speed up and slow down whenever we are at a speed bump. I think I fell asleep during the ride, I couldn't care less about what goes on beyond the vehicle, I just want to know where we are headed. But no matter how many times I have asked the question “Where are we going?”,”Are we there yet?” or “Why?”, the General did not comment on it and told me to wait a bit longer. I think he and I both underestimated the duration of this trip.

Suddenly, I awoke with the car going in reverse and stopped abruptly. The General put his hand on my shoulder and patted me, saying, “We're here.”

I got out of the car, and the cold air struck me once again. It rushed against my face and hair rather than the gentle breeze, I shivered. The cold summer air should not be held so lightly, even when you are wearing the proper attire. This air was different. It feels refreshing, yet familiar. Salty. Ice cold salt swarming through me with their loud I look at what’s in front of me in the pitch black sky, what looks through me is the dark blue ocean waves crashing into each other, the source of the harsh breeze. The ocean horizon blends into the empty night sky, no source of light can be seen other than street lights illuminating behind us. I looked below my feet, after the concrete I’m standing came to the soft sand. I hate sand.

“You alright there, kiddo?” The General asked, his posture upright with his hands in his pockets.

I hate sand. I hate having to feel every singular atom of rocks sinking beneath my feet, it feels like I'm stepping onto a graveyard of dead ants. I hate sand when it is used during our training, I hate having small, bitter white rocks coming into me and later having to shower them all only for them to still be stuck with me, and then I shower again.

“Why are you showing me the beach, Sir?” I asked, looking at him as I reluctantly prepared to take off my boots, “Is it another drill? Was my performance not up to the standards, Sir? What am I lacking at, Sir?”

“Nah, it isn’t a drill. You don’t need to take em off.” he replied, lighting a cigar, “I’m just here to show ya something.”

I look at what’s in front of me, and looked at him again, “It’s the beach, Sir. There’s nothing special.”

“Nah, try again.” he blew a puff of smoke, now all I’m smelling is the salty sea and the horrible stench of tar. “You’re not seeing the bigger picture.”

“But it's just a beach, Sir. I don’t mean to be rude, but what’s the significance of this beach?”

“I’ll give ya a hint,” The General gave a soft smile. “What do you think is beyond the sea, kid?”

I looked at the sea again, “Probably another country, Sir. If we were in the westside, we are probably at at the end of the continent, Sir”

The General chuckled, “Nice guess, but I’m thinking of a different answer. Say, what time is it now?”

I looked at my watch and answered, “It’s 0628, Sir.”

“Then I want you to look at the horizon again and watch for…Yeah, 3 minutes.” The General requested. I did as I was told.

3 minutes were up, and nothing seemed to have happened.

“Just watch” The General interrupted me.

Soon I see pitch black sky change to the color orange ever so slightly. Soon enough, the sun started to poke out from the horizon line of the sea, shifting the ocean waves as they reflected the sunlight back to us like a porch light turning on at 1900. As the sun rose, so did the intensity of the sky’s bright orange colors, shifting its colors from black to red, from red to orange, then yellow came as the sun hovered above the sea. Now it’s 0650.

“It’s lovely, Sir.” I responded, “But I’ve seen it during my drills before, why go so far away for this one, Sir?”

The General dropped his cigar and put it out with his foot and asked, “Yknow why I love the beach?”

“Beyond the sea, beyond the horizons, another land is there ready to be seen and explored. A new chapter in our lives where we learn this about ourselves we never knew. A new hope, new beginnings when you’re ready to venture out there. The beach is the starting point of that journey, son. Whenever you use a yacht, a fishing boat or hell, swim across the sea with nothing on you, there’ll be something waiting for you in that hellish journey” He looked at me with this earnest, warmth smile on his face, ”And do you know why I love sunrises?”

I shrugged.

He laughed, not the big laugh people like to use when something’s entertaining. A more kind-hearted, soft, short laugh. “You really have no clue, huh? It’s fine, you’re not graded or anything.”

He then looked up and said, “Even when you don’t know where you are in the pitch black night, where you have no hope in you. There’ll always be a light at the end of that darkness. To me, kid , that will be your future. I don’t know what awaits ya, and neither do you but…” The General paused, then continued, “...I know that good things will come for you, Khusan. Especially back home wherever you’re really from.”

“I see…”

I then observed what’s in front of me again, this time applying them to what the General has said. The bright orange sky with the white sun radiating it’s warm for us after the long, empty night of travelling to the beach, especially after the cold, salty breeze after we got out of the car. The ocean waves shone the sun’s rays like flashlights from tents when practicing morse code. Morse code helps people find their way and get help, I guess it applies to the ocean reflecting its light to us. I wonder if the General is right, where I can truly find my way back home someday once I’m not needed anymore.

I have a new appreciation of the beach now. This trip was insightful.

I smiled.

This is part of Khusan's backstory, i guess its more of a side piece. It examplifies how he views the world and i tried writing it the way how i see the world cause he and I are both autistic.

he is a juxtaposition to the 6th major cast, being a more hopeful character in very bleak and uptight environment.

this is also an exercise to writing with my friends where the theme is beach.

#nyabby 1980s #khusan #writing

0 notes

littledreamingirl19 · 1 year ago

Text

lost

How far can this line between not wanting to disappear and finding a place good enough to commit something forbidden be stretched?! I found myself getting a glimpse of what I could do, one of several possibilities that had been running through my mind this entire week. I feel dead inside, that kind person is in some corner trying to get rid of the butterflies in my chest and stomach. Not even that person who would be crazy with rage, this one took rat poison and I see her body thrown on the ground with foam in her mouth, as thick as the whites of her eyes. The sad person drowned from crying so much that it turned into a sea of tears so salty that it scratched my throat. Words drowned, swallowed dry, feelings torn apart so they could never be revived. I'm dead, the ashes of what was left have already been carried away with the wind, what's left of the body remains there, feeding worms and other insects, exhaling a putrid stench. Really, worn out by time and all the effort that seems to be in vain. I clung to an illusion, I clung to feelings that are still very strong and difficult to let go, but this hand that I try so hard to hold on to, it seems like it is no longer there, I feel myself sinking deeper and deeper and with no one to hold me back to save me. I look for reasons not to let myself go, I look for meaning in things that I haven't been able to finish or actually start yet, be it friends, my family, animals, the personal dreams I have, I even hold on to my religion, but everything seems to not make more sense, I don't know where I can go anymore, all the paths seem blocked so I can get where I want, and it's not even about money or the lack of it anymore, the material is no longer so problematic, but the conflicts internal ones that torment me every second of my day. I don't feel adequate, I don't feel loved or desired by who I want, I don't feel like myself, and this is all a problem that I try to solve without dumping it on anyone else. Again I let myself be robbed, and now I no longer know who I am, who inhabits this place with my own name?!

0 notes

dank-hp--memes · 5 years ago

Text

There are so many nasty things I could say about the people who won SAG awards over Jared and Emily... but I shall keep them to myself and rage in silent...

But i mean at least Allegra he and Allegra looked sexy af...

I mean... look at them!

#I'm so salty i could sink in the dead sea...#Angry boi hours #Emily and Jared should have WON!#Emily Watson #Jared Harris #All these award shows are absolute trash and are canceled as far as I am concerned #allegra riggio #team harris

13 notes · View notes

zablife · 2 years ago

Note

Maybe something darkish with Alfie if you feel inspired? 😇 Suggested: enemies to lovers 🤔

When Did You Realize I Was Not Dead?

You stole inside the large seaside mansion, clutching a pistol. You'd only seen a housekeeper come and go in recent weeks, but you weren't taking any chances. You'd come for Alfie Solomons once before and he had been unguarded. He wouldn't be stupid enough to make the same mistake twice. You moved silently through the house, eyes darting suspiciously for any signs of security as you attempted to find the irritating mad bastard who refused to die.

As you snuck past a small sitting room crammed with heavy, ornate furniture, an open balcony door caught your attention. The curtains flapped lightly on a breeze that brought in a healthy dose of salty, sea air. You inhaled deeply, allowing yourself to release the tension in your neck and shoulders with the slow exhalation of breath. Momentarily closing your eyes, you attempted to picture Alfie here taking the air.

It wasn't difficult as the King of Camden's voice boomed from one corner of the room suddenly asking, "Gonna improve your aim by closing both eyes this time, dove?"

You spun in all directions, attempting to locate him. It only took a moment to realize he had concealed himself by sinking into a plush looking armchair. He peered out at you with mild curiosity, but utter lack of fear.

"Fuck you, Alfie. I'm the best Tommy's got," you said, holding your head high.

"Well I'd hate to see his worst," he taunted you, rising from his chair with a groan. As he faced you, you saw the damage you’d inflicted the last time you visited. The left side of his face was stitched together in a crude patchwork, his left eye so badly damaged it was now a milky white. You couldn’t help the shocked expression that came over you as you took it all in. It was rare to be confronted with the consequences of your bullets as John and Arthur mostly handled that. The first pangs of regret hit you hard and fast as you’d always had a soft spot for this wild man and if you were honest, a bit of admiration as well.

You remembered the day they called you about Alfie’s body. John shouting down the telephone line that something had gone wrong. Arthur demanded to know why there was a trail of blood in the sand but no body and you couldn’t explain it. You’d left Alfie for dead that day on the beach thinking no one could survive a bullet to the head. You held a handkerchief to your mouth to hide the sobs from them, afraid they would find out how much you cared for your mark. When it had been suggested he got away, you wondered if you hadn’t missed intentionally.

“Admiring your handiwork?,” Alfie asked, gesturing toward his scars with a flourish, gold rings catching the light, mocking you in their insistence you see what you had done to your former lover. You instantly snapped out of your dreamlike state as he continued to needle you. “Or do actually mean to kill me this time?” Alfie frowned at you, his hulking form before you like a terrifying grizzly ready to charge.

Then with a quick turn of his back, he paced toward the open door. “Nah, that’s not why you’ve come. You’re losing your touch, getting sentimental on me, pet,” he pronounced. He looked over his shoulder briefly at your gun, still in hand, but not aimed at him for some curious reason. He sucked his teeth for a moment before continuing, “You’re a bit of a failure, ain’t ya?” he laughed heartily. “I mean, ya come here to kill me, cock it up and now you stand there…stand there, right, having a butchers but like a sodding muppet and you can’t even point the bloody thing at me,” he said, scratching his beard. Honestly, you were as confused as he was, unsure how to proceed. You had your orders, but you couldn't carry them out now that you were stood face to face.

Alfie made his way back to you, his limp slowing him considerably. “What’s that pikey paying you, hmm?” he demanded.

“Why? You going to offer me something I want more?” you asked, swallowing harshly with Alfie so close to you you could smell the rum on him.

“Dunno. What is it you want?” Alfie asked. “Gold?” He was testing you to see if you had a price. He wanted to know if this had been about the money from the beginning and that hurt you deeply.

You shook your head as a tear fell down your cheek. “What if I said I didn’t want to kill you at all, Alfie? What then?” you asked, voice barely above a whisper. And you awaited his reply, frightened of the honest answer he might give.

#Peaky Blinders fanfic #Peaky Blinders imagine #Alfie Solomons fanfic #Alfie Solomons x imagine #Alfie Solomons x you #Alfie Solomons x y/n #Alfie Solomons x reader #Alfie Solomons

147 notes · View notes

pirates-pirates-pirates · 3 years ago

Text

The Captain's Dead

So I got the inspiration to write this piece and it ended up becoming a multi-chapter beast. Right now it's got no shipping, just mentioned one-sided attractions in the future. Doesn't mean it -won't- be shipping in the future.

It's a story from Deuce's POV and I went with the in-canon theme that he didn't go by a name until Ace gave him one so until that point he's nameless but it's from his POV.

I'm hoping to include more characters as the story progresses. I am aiming for weekly updates, but we will see.

More of a historical pirate era fantasy AU.

SUMMARY:

He longed for adventure and set off on a journey he wasn’t ready for. The life of a pirate seemed so glamorous in his books, but the reality was a mixed bag that fate was having fun shaking up. Encountering the son of a legend, made of flames and passion, a con man who could heal everything but his heart.

Throwing away his old life, embracing a name gifted to him. He wasn’t sure what the journey held, he just knew one thing for sure, it was going to make one hell of a story.

AO3: The Captain's Dead Chap 1

Masked Deuce & Ace SFW AU Part 1 Word Count: 2,269

Spoiled brat some would call him. To leave the comfortable life to go on an adventure he hadn’t even planned for. He’d grabbed a bag, and stuffed it with a few things, not even useful things aside from food that had already been eaten. He claimed he was smart, that he was prepared to leave the nest, fly the coop, and other ridiculous bird-related metaphors.

His failing grades might have been an indication to him that he wasn’t as bright as he first thought. Staring at the sky, watching the wispy clouds gently sail through the sky as the fishing boats did the sea, the runaway noble blinked slowly, his chest rose with the intake of air, prepping for a long-exasperated sigh that rattled through him.

Hands, soft, a day’s work never encountered rubbed his face as he tried to piece together what he could do. It had been a week since he’d left home, he was only marginally surprised that no one had come looking for him, his parents had always looked at him with a simple indifference, enough to acknowledge he was their flesh and blood but nothing else.

No deeper connection or bonds, maybe they considered it a blessing that their little disappointment had finally gotten the balls to leave. He hadn’t even grabbed any coin to escape with, so convinced and headstrong that he didn’t require their assistance.

As his stomach grumbled and his feet hurt, he regretted his decision made of childish indignation towards his parents, life, and himself. His satchel was heavy with a blank book, a small bag that contained his stationary and an empty canteen.

The seagulls squawked and screeched at one another, fighting for scraps the fishing boats arriving at the dock were throwing overboard irritated his ears, his mood sinking, pulled further into the ocean of misery by his rumbling stomach.

Blue hair danced in the summer breeze, salty air tangling the locks as it washed over the man stuck in his mire of self-pity. He heard a shout from someone, loud and full of purpose, the harbour master he assumed as he forced himself to sit up, using his elbows to keep himself propped up.

Eyebrows knitted in the middle, a scowl on his face as he watched a larger ship nestle between the fishing vessels at the dock. He may have been failing his studies, but it was obvious the new ship was one that flew the skull and cross bones, hidden away under the guise of any other trading ship.

A fair bit of money would exchange hands to keep the pirate ship under wraps until the crew had restocked, he was sure of it. As the sea breeze tickled his skin and ruffled his hair the run-away noble had a thought.

If adventure was what he ran away to seek then what better way to experience a life so fruitful with twists and turns than that of a pirate? He would seek out the captain, tell him about his skills, and brag about his ability to read and write.

How could the captain refuse such an offer?

His frown morphed into a triumphant look as he picked himself up, brushing down his long coat and making his way down the grassy hill with a new sense of purpose and pride in his chest. Sadly he wasn’t the sort of man who could march up to another and declare his intent.

He’d always been the nervous sort, anxious and fraught with a meeker disposition. He’d felt the tremble on his lips as he approached the dock, as his boots left grass, tread along dirt before the echo of wood reached his ears. His heart was racing as he stared at the sloop sitting there, people milling about along the planked walkway.

Clammy hands and knocking knees he tried to stop himself from indulging in the negative thoughts running through his mind, a whirlwind of scenarios playing out in his head as he looked around, how all the men both pirate in disguise and the fisherman mingled and formed crowds along the otherwise small dock.

As he stood there, hands balled into fists, clenching and unclenching with the nervous chatter in his head, every scene ended up in rejection, the pirate captain tall and proud, face littered with scars, badges of pride of years on the sea with a legacy as long as the ocean deep simply laughing in his face.

He didn’t want to deal with those looks from anyone else. He could still recall his mother’s upturned nose as she dismissed him once more, the way his father would cast him a side glance, bored indifference the only expression he’d ever gotten from the man who owned an empire, made the money that kept his family in finery and servants.

The man wasn’t athletic but just like a rat, he was resourceful when backed into a corner. The ropes that connected the ship to the sturdy pillars of the dock seemed like his best chance. Even he and his failing medical degree knew best to wait till the cover of darkness.

Lying in wait he made himself scarce while the sun rode high in the sky, he waited for it to retire, sitting back on that grassy hill, overlooking the dock with tired eyes, forcing himself to stay awake despite the fatigue and hunger that buried deep inside him.

He could feel his eyelids getting heavy, digging his nails into the palms of his hands as hard as he could, the skin dented with many crescent moons, biting the inside of his cheek, needing the sharp sobering pain to snap his attention back into focus.

The sky was soon filled with sepia tones, golden and rich, a treasure of the late afternoon reaching across the world, melting into the horizon as the sea started to swallow the sun. Pinks and purples integrated into the sky, breaking up the dying light, a heavy curtain that came with the promise of night-time.

Watching the pirates leave their ship, sounds of revelry filled the darkened night as they headed towards the tavern for a night of well-earned merry making, a break from the endless days and nights of bobbing along the sea, at the wind’s mercy for the speed in their sails.

Those same nerves creeping up within him, as rickety as the walkway he tried to slink along, trying to act as if he belonged there, that he had a purpose, just in case anyone saw him. Act like you fit in he told himself as he took a breath, gulping in the air wishing it would steady his racing thoughts.

That was a ridiculous notion, really. He’d never been able to fit in even at home where he was born and raised. His posture oozed that of a man up to no good, his eyes darted from side to side, each gentle sway of the docked ships drew his attention, made him jump, his heart rattle in his chest as he tried to keep his steps as silent as he could.

Creaking, groaning wood underfoot shot through him like a gunshot in the night, frazzled and stressed beyond belief, he needed to dry his hands on his thighs, hoping the fabric of his pants would absorb his sweat. He had to focus, the last thing he wanted was to fall off the taut rope and cause a commotion by screaming and splashing around in the water like an idiot.

The rough rope felt coarse and sharp against his hands, grabbing at the aged twine he hauled himself up from the deck, his cheeks puffed out, this was harder than he’d first anticipated, his boot slipped, his leg dangling to the side, he let out a surprised cry.

In a desperate attempt not to fall from the rope he clung to it, hugging it to his chest as he tried to pull his leg up, just for his entire body to slip, now clinging to the sea-stained rope, upside down, he let out a long dramatic sigh, watching as a pack of rats scurried up along the length just as he had intended.

He narrowed his eyes, glaring at the shadowed creatures as they managed the task with such ease while he remained panicked, he knew the pirates wouldn’t be back for a while, but that didn’t stop the knot in his stomach, the panic that thrummed through his veins. He needed to put his dwindling determination to good use, force it to collect and gather his scattered nerves.

Push through it!

Encouragement had been something he lacked in his life, he barely believed in himself enough to let the inner monologue you can do this! Be heard over the shouting and yelling of a thousand small voices telling him he couldn’t do this. He tried to focus, wrapping his legs around the rope he started to shimmy along the length slowly, ascending towards the ship as the water rippled below, mocking him.

The deck was silent, all the inhabitants had cleared out for an evening of dousing themselves in cheap grog and making some barmaid’s life a living hell. His eyes scanned across the deck, he’d read about pirate ships in his many books, novels, and short stories alike. They’d all nursed the spark of adventure in his soul. He had the heart of an explorer, he knew it, somewhere hidden deep below the mind of a nervous wreck sat the heart of a brave soul.

Getting aboard the vessel had improved his outlook tenfold, no longer threatened with the looming worry of falling into the water he stood there, hands on his hips and chest puffed out proudly. He closed his eyes and focused on the wind that rolled in from the sea.

The salty air once again teased his blue tresses as he envisioned the life at sea he’d always dreamed of. He longed for this life, and he was finally embracing it, grabbing it by the horns and riding it into the sunset. Opening his eyes, a soft smile on his face he stared into dark eyes, a wide smirk on the person’s face.

“Are ya lost?” the man asked, laughing when the newcomer, the intruder screamed in his face.

Ace couldn’t help but burst into laughter, the stranger had tripped over his own feet, fell backwards, and landed in a pile of coiled-up rope with a painful-sounding thud. He didn’t find his misfortune half as funny as the freckled man that crouched down, a hand on his hat, keeping it in place.

“Wanna tell me what you’re doing on my ship? Did you wait till everyone had gone? Smart, smart.” Ace sniffed in thought, looking down his pointed nose at the ill-fated adventurer.

“I wanted to join the crew..” his voice seemed so sheepish, he felt pathetic at his own trembling voice.

The man in the hat who was still smiling brightly just chuckled and watched as he pulled himself together, sitting with his legs draped over the rope, arms on either side of himself, his body language giving away his panic, his eyes flicked from the grinning face of the pirate towards the large dagger attached to his side.

Ace followed his gaze, hand resting on the hilt of the dagger as he cocked his head to one side. The newcomer didn’t seem like the sort of person who’d ever had a fight in his life. His eyes were fearful, his lip pulled between his teeth as he chewed on the skin, this was a man who’d never encountered a pirate.

“Oh? Wanna join us huh? What skills you are thinking of bringing along with you?” he asked, hand never leaving his side, just in case this man held ill intent and was simply good at acting.

“I can read and write for one thing.” He said, finding his voice at last, though it dripped with a condescending tone which Ace picked up and didn’t seem to enjoy.

“So can I.” he snorted and narrowed his eyes, wondering if this man was worth the consideration, worth introducing him to the captain.

“I- really?”

“What the fuck does that mean?” Ace sneered and gripped the hilt tighter, pulling the blade free of its sheath by an inch, enough to show the gleaming blade in the lantern light.

He gulped; his Adam’s apple noticeably bobbed as he regretted the bluntness of his words because he guaranteed the blade in the pirate’s clutches was sharper by far. The fear was palpable as he sat up straighter, trying to tare his gaze from the weapon, forcing himself and his nervous disposition to at least make eye contact with the pirate.

Was there any nice way of saying oh, well, you look like you’ve never picked up a book in your life without risking his? He supposed there wasn’t, maybe he needed to admit his faults, not cower in front of a man that honestly, didn’t look much older than himself.

Wrinkles and the usual signs of age or a rough life sailing devoid from his youthful face, the dusting of freckles, a miniature consolation that graced the scowling pirate’s face didn’t suit a man who could run him through. He decided despite the dagger at his side this pirate didn’t have it in him to draw blood.

“Doesn’t matter.” He said after the long pause, a pause that stoked the irritation in Ace.

“I think it does, I think you just implied I wasn’t educated.”

Oh, fuck, maybe he isn’t as dense as he looks, he thought, blinking his eyes, mouth agape as he tried to find it in him to reply. Like a message in a bottle, bobbing out to sea, bounced around by turbulent waves the only coherent thought in his head was gone.

Ace was about to snap again when a loud, grizzly gurgle broke the tense situation. Both men stared at his stomach. He opened his mouth to speak, what sort of threat was he going to be perceived as if the sounds of hunger gave him away? He’d been without food for four days and he could barely focus after all the energy he’d exerted just getting aboard the ship.

To his great surprise the pirate laughed again, loud and joyous, deceptive of the situation from mere seconds ago, he fell back on his ass, hand abandoning his blade, palms resting on his bony exposed knees as his laughter got louder.

“What’s so funny?” he snapped, annoyance at being laughed at pushing his frayed nerves and fear of immediate death away for the moment, hurt showing clear on his face.

“Nothing, nothing, calm down, damn. Davy Jones himself probably heard that.” Ace sighed, regaining his composure with one last chuckle, crossing his legs, leaning forward, his cheek resting against his knuckles as his eyes roamed over the stranger once more.

“Can’t be much of a threat if your starving, come on, I’ll get you something.”

His shoulders slumped in defeat as narrowed eyes softened, and widened into disbelief, the pirate stood to his feet, offering his hand. If the pirate hadn’t murdered him on sight for trespassing or for calling him stupid to his face, then he doubted he had any intentions of cutting his adventure short now.

Brushing back strands of blue, his rational mind and paranoia screaming at one another like gulls fighting over a scrap of fish. He took another breath, his eyes searching that of the pirate, he couldn’t sense ill intent, he reached up and took his hand. Ace grinned and hauled the stranger to his feet.

“Should have some leftover bread from supper, might be a bit stale, we are in the middle of restocking. Come on.”

Stale bread? He was a brat he thought to himself, his mind drifting to the lavish spreads back home. Being a man on an adventure was harder than expected, he just hoped it was worth it.

#sfw #masked deuce #portgas d ace #one piece #portgas d. ace #fire fist ace #one piece deuce #portgasdace #au

23 notes · View notes

echo-three-one · 4 years ago

Text

Chapter 31

THE ROAD SO FAR

Chapter 30 Recap?

Roach was falling.

S.O.S.

"Alex"

1km behind the Victoria Cruise Ship, UK

"Can't this thing go any faster?!" he hissed against the loud revving of the motor he stole from the docks. He wasn't supposed to steal it, but when he realized no one was around at that time of day, he saw smoke plume from the ship and thought he'd "borrow" it for an emergency.

From the shore, he saw flashing lights signaling a rescue team, meaning that something happened on the ship. Alex's hands gripped on the control stick as he navigated the smooth waves toward the ship, stopping at the moment he saw someone get pushed off deck.

He didn't need to know who it was, so he immediately changed course to the direction where the person fell. Strangely enough, the person didn't emerge from the ripples. This meant that he didn't have the capacity to shake his limbs. Without hesitating about his metal leg, Alex stood up and dove toward the ripple, cold ocean water immediately surrounded his body.

With all his effort, he swam downward until he caught up with the person, whom he soon realized to be Roach. He was squirming and holding his breath as Alex caught him and attempted to push them afloat. Of course he had a hard time doing it, as his hand held onto Roach and his metal leg couldn't make him swim better. So he grabbed his knife and sliced Roach free from the ropes, allowing him to freely swim upward, pulling Alex with him.

Emerging from the deep blue, Alex and Roach both gasped for air, caught up with their breaths and swam back to their stolen boat.

Roach hoisted himself up and assisted Alex, pulling him back to the boat.

"Whew, for a second I thought I was a goner." Gary coughed and wriggled his wrists, feeling the freedom.

"What happened out there?" Alex asked, salt water dripped from his hair and stache.

"It's a hostage situation, Shepherd's in need of funds and decides to target a gathering of rich people." Roach explained as Alex started the boat, the motor slowly sputtered to life.

"Let's crash the party." Alex invited and Roach nodded as they made their way into the slowly sinking cruise ship.

Stepping inside the cruise ship, Alex and Roach made their way through the corridors evading contact with Shadow Company. They are fully aware that without glowing beacons, they are a threat.

"I think it's this way!" Gary pointed the left path and Alex followed, the way led to the Captain's quarters.

"Alex, Roach!" Soap grunted while fighting with one of the three big guys, his hand formed an X while deflecting a huge oar.

Roach and Alex surrounded the big guy and ducked the moment he swung his weapon, Roach quickly disabling him by kicking his foot making him lose balance and fall on his back.

"Thanks. That oar was annoying the hell out of me." Soap gasped and wiped off his tux, looking at how messed the room was.

"So it was 1 versus 3?" Alex asked as he looked at the unconscious bodies on the floor.

"Pretty much. One tazed the other one and the rest is history." Soap chuckled and pointed to the door.

"The rest of the team headed that way. They're trying to stop the Shadow Company while Price extracted 'Gold Bar'." Soap added and the three moved forward to the next area.

Halfway through the halls, the ship hummed and tilted slightly, meaning that water hadl already made its way inside. They have to hurry before the ship sinks.

"911 was right behind me when I left off. We have to make sure every civilian gets saved." Alex suggested. Soap and Roach looked at each other and nodded.

"You go, Alex. We'll handle the rescue from here." Soap replied and Roach nodded again as they paced to where the civilians were.

"All right then." he muttered and made his way to the control room.

Gunshots were heard from the distance, echoing the narrow corridors of the ship. With a place this narrow, it's almost impossible to miss a shot. This actually worried the former CIA and he ran faster, his metal leg hoofed on the floor.

The scene was Ghost and Alexandra hiding behind the wheel while Shadow Company soldiers, who were armed, were hiding by the next room. The two had pistols on their hands but judging from their gestures, it looked like they only had a few bullets left.

As soon as the enemy peeked its head on the door, Ghost swiftly shot his bullet square on the head as the enemy dropped down on the floor with a loud thud. His bullet clicked and he cursed as soon as he realized that that was his last shot.

Alexandra followed as another one peeked and had the same fate. Loud thundering footsteps echoed the halls as reinforcements arrived.

"This is Price. I found Alex's boat and the Gold Bar is here with me. Rescue Services are already in the building. Get out of there now!" He roared and Alex needed to find a way out.

Scanning the area, he charged toward the glass windows of the control room and broke it, rolling down the diagonal design of the ship, thudding on the floor. Alexandra and Ghost followed him and they ran to the back of the ship which was still too far from where they're at.

Dodging bullets and running for their lives, they caught up with Soap and Roach, who were also being chased by soldiers.

"What a mess this was, huh?" Alexandra commented as they all sprinted together, dodging flying bullets and finding a way off the ship.

"I guess it's Plan B." Ghost muttered and Alexandra nodded.

"Follow me." He added and everyone else obliged as they made their way to the middle of the ship.

Alex had no idea what plan B meant but as soon as they made it to the center, they were surrounded by the Shadow Company. Their stances were slightly tilted as the ship continued to sink slowly into the ocean.

"Bollocks! I did not see this coming!" Ghost cursed and Alex was clear that this wasn't part of the plan.

"How many of them are here?!" Soap complained as they slowly huddled into a circle. Alex noted that they did this part like the Avengers in New York, except they weren't superheroes and they were weaponless.

"I don't know. I just got out of a life threatening situation and here I am again with one." Roach complained, looking at his allies.

"On three, we head east." Ghost whispered, Alex turned to the location smoothly as to not alert everyone that's pointing their weapons at them.

"Two.."

"One.."

Ghost clicked his detonator and a huge explosion occurred in the east, sending most of the Shadow Company on their feet and distracted.

"Go! Go! Go!" Ghost roared and everyone scattered and ran toward the blast, using the destroyed debris that was once impassable.

Alex and the rest of the team ran as they approached the back of the ship where Price was supposed to be. It only took the Shadow Company a few minutes to recover and bullets began to fly toward their direction.

Ahead of him, Roach and Soap were already by the edge, Alex saw the two jumped away from the ship and into safety while behind him, Ghost and Alexandra were being pressured with bullets.

Alex held onto the rails before attempting to jump, making sure Ghost and Alexandra made it through. He saw Alexandra follow Ghost's six but she accidentally tripped and dropped on the floor.

"Shit!" She squealed in pain as she got shot on the thigh, she forced herself to get up with Ghost's assistance. Alex pushed some tanning chairs toward the enemy as the tilted ship helped them slide to them, causing them to evade the falling chairs. But Shadow Company didn't give up, a few more soldiers emerged from the background.

"We have to go! Now!" Alex yelled as he ran ahead of Ghost making sure nothing's behind him. The enemies were still quite far but from the corner of his eye, a man with an RPG aimed his sights at them and before Alex could do anything, smoke already trailed from the weapon. It was already fired.

"Ghost! Behind you! RPG!" Alex yelled as the missile missed the three of them, and hit the floor quite far from them, tearing yet another hole on the ship's deck.

The warm heat of the blast slightly burned their skin as Alex and Ghost flew to the direction of their boat while Alexandra flew nearer to the Shadow Company, separating her from the rest of the team.

Alex's ears rang at the blast and he could hear Ghost's cry. Before he eventually fell on the ocean, the last thing he heard was Ghost calling out Alexandra's name.

S.O.S.

Simon "Ghost" Riley

Alex's stolen boat (S.S. Crossbones), 4 km from Port of Dover, UK

Just when he thought he found his sense of humanity back through Alexandra Ryder, the universe fucked up his life once again. He was conscious, but he didn't want to wake up. He didn't want to open his eyes and see that Alexandra wasn't with them. It was too much.

He could feel someone slapping on his cheek, and judging by the group, only Roach had the guts to do it.

"Should we do CPR? I can't hear him breathing." Roach asked, panic was in his voice.

"Check if his chest is rising or falling." Soap suggested. Ghost thought that he could pretend to be dead for a little more, but the team was worried about him and he had to face reality one way or another.

Ghost coughed the salty seawater clogging his breathing and panted heavily as he got up. His vision slowly got clearer as he visualized the whole team looking at him.

"Thank God, you're alive!" Roach cheered and everyone else nodded him welcome. He wanted to thank each of them but there was still something bothering him.

"Alexandra…" he muttered as he quickly got up, Alex's hands stopped him on his tracks.

"They tried circling around the ship before it sank. There was no sign of her." He frowned along with the rest of the team. Ghost hasn't cried in a while, but this time tears involuntarily trickled on his cheeks.

"NOOOOO!!" He yelled, his voice pierced through the open sea as Gary huddled near him and gave him a hug.

"I'm sorry." Roach whispered. He wasn't there to help him and he always tries to absorb some of the blame.

Ghost wanted to tell him that it isn't his fault, but his throat was still recovering from his screams. Everyone around him fell silent as he slowly stood up and pulled his mask.

He silently tossed it into the ocean as it slowly sank as soon as it got soaked with water. It was sad to think that Alexandra lost her life at the cost of no lead toward Shepherd or Nero, but Ghost looked straight into Gold Bar's eyes.

"I want you to live your life to the fullest. She sacrificed hers so you could live on. Don't you dare waste the second chance he gave you." He muttered causing Derek to nod and slowly sob as he sat on his knees.

"I will…" he whimpered through the croaking of his voice.

"Looks like the engine's back up." Soap announced, pulling his oily hands from the engine as Price started the machine as it revved to life.

For the whole duration of the trip, Ghost just stared at the remains of the cruise ship. He wanted to ask Alexandra to take their awkward arrangement to the next level, but the world looked like it had other plans for him.

"I will avenge you, Alexandra Ryder. I'll do whatever it takes to put your loss to justice." he whispered, tightening his grip on the boat, looking angrily at the ocean in front of him.

Next Chapter : Mr. and Mrs. MacTavish

Notification Squad my Beloved

@enderio @whimsywispsblog @samatedeansbroccoli @smokeywhalee @beemybee @ricinbach

#horrayfic #john soap mactavish #alex echo 3 1 #codmw #john price #simon ghost riley #gary roach sanderson #whateverittakes

21 notes · View notes

shadow-kings-legacy · 4 years ago

Text

"Even if we only have one life, together we have an unlimited supply, I had nothing, but you gave me a sense of meaning, Now I'm unstopabble!" Joshiro Joko the human, Way of the Astral Self Monk. (know by the party as the second in command, the foreigner from Kara-Tur, the Jojo reference, the light hearted goof)

Now, before I say anything else about him I wanna get something out of the way: yes he is a Jojo's Bizarre adventures reference, yes he started as a joke, no he didn't stay as a joke character for long, no you can't insult my son, he is the best and I love him. Anyway, moving on... H i s b a c k s t o r y Joshiro (known as Jojo by his father and friends) was born in the far away land of Kara-Tur, in a cute little fishing village with his father. the local leader figure at his side. A calm chilhood full of his developing as a sailor by helping out his dad's crew in the fishing business, life was good. Right up until it wasn't. On one fateful voyage, a storm caught his father's boat unexpectedly, with the whole crew and Joshiro on board. The violent cyclone rocked and teared to pieces their helpless vehicle, everyone tried their best to fulfill their duties as sailors, to stay afloat; but as soon as they realized their efforts were for naught, chaos reignded, it was every man by themselves. Joshiro's father, ever the good dad never gave up hope, trying to keep everyone safe he was the only one to hear the thunderous cracking of the main mast being splintered appart by the mighty winds of the sea; and that's when his eyes landed on his son, directly under the path of the heavy wooden post. He acted without thinking, pushing Joshiro aside to save him from the impact, which he ended up receiving himself. The momentum pushed the man and our future monk overboard, both sinking deep into the freezing waters of the eastern sea. The poor boy found himself paralized by the sight of his father receiving a fatal blow for him, letting his body float down into the water, dazed and cold, the last thing he saw was a bright light ripping through the dark depths, getting closer to him. Next thing he knew, he was coughing up salty water out of his lungs in an unknown white sanded beach, completly alone; but not for long. A mysterious man approached him, helping him by nursing back to good health. He soon explained Joshiro was a very special young man, a kind of monk not seen too often around the world, one who could manifest their soul on a semi-physical level to use as it may seem fit. A very special talent, one he would help him develop. This man became his teacher and master, helping Joshiro on his training as a Way of the Astral Self monk and the beggining of his new life as an adventurer. During this time, young Joshiro unconsciously buried deep the memory of his father's death, the mental image morphed into the man simply being thrown into the water safely with him, only to mysteriously dissapear. So it became the monk's life goal to find his dad, wherever he might be. After years of grueling preparation from his teacher, he decided to depart from the small island he had called a home. Exploring his home country led him to dead ends, rapidly leading him to traveling to the odd continent of Faerûn, where he found himself in the city of Neverwinter on the Sword Coast. In here he worked with the half-elf captain Mossprinter on her fishing boat the Rainbow Fish to earn himself some coppers to stay afloat in this unknown land. And here is where his fate would take a radical turn, as he befriended an odd tabaxi woman named Korinn Haladar (we'll get to her when we get to her), who had a dark omninous aura around her, but was friendly enough to him. This is how he ends up with the party, as Korinn introduces him to her friends and unknowingly gets pulled into a bigger scheme which would affect the whole continet. Y̴o̶u̴ ̴s̵h̴o̶u̷l̵d̸'̵v̴e̵ ̴s̷t̶a̷y̴e̴d̶ ̶i̶n̸ ̶y̵o̵u̴r̸ ̸h̵o̴m̵e̴ ̷c̴o̶u̶n̵t̷r̷y̶,̶ ̷i̷g̴n̵o̸r̸a̴n̶t̴ ̷f̶o̷o̸l̷.̵ P e r s o n a l n o t e s As a disclaimer, I have to say I loveeeee Jojo's Bizarre Adventures, I even have the Joestar's birthmark pink star tattoo. So when one of my players told me he wanted to use the (then) new Way of the Astral Self monk to make a Jojo character, I was like "Let's fucking hecking do it". He started as a quite silly and goofy dude, who said dumb but cute stuff from time to time, but as

the story developed and we hit more serious beats on the plot, he quickly took more of a support leadership role with Alyssa. And after his personal quest, where they encountered another (but incredibly more powerful) monk like him (based on the Ancient One from the Doctor Strange series), who they were fully expecting to fight but ended up being a pacifist; Joshiro realized he had been in denial for quite some time about his father's death, and instead of being violent towards the past and life, he would follow a new path of self discovery with his new friends (and family at this point). He's transformed into an awesome character and a good man, and I can't wait to see what he'll be willing to do to protect his adventuring group. B̵e̶c̶a̵u̸s̸e̴ ̷n̵o̵t̴ ̷e̵v̸e̶n̴ ̶t̵h̸e̸ ̸g̶o̵d̵s̸ ̷c̵a̸n̴ ̵h̷e̵l̶p̴ ̴y̴o̸u̸ ̷n̵o̷w̵ ̵m̶o̵n̸k̷. Stay tunned and beware of the shadows 💀 Joshiro and his art (except for the first illustration) belong to Eclipsewyvrn, check him out on Insta! ✨

#dnd #dnd character #dnd5e #dnd stuff #dnd campaign #dungeons and dragons #dungeon master #dnd pc #the shadow kings legacy #joshiro #dnd art #dnd monk

10 notes · View notes

skaylanphear · 6 years ago

Text

Cry of the Siren

Summary: Marinette considers herself a different sort of pirate, what with her having morals and a just cause. While Adrien doesn't much fit into the expectations his people have of mermaids such as himself. Backed into a corner by an arranged marriage, he leaves his home behind to brave the open sea, only for a dire injury to leave him stranded on human shores. And so when Marinette finds him and hauls him aboard her ship, he finds himself trapped in a world far removed from his own.

But perhaps the sea carried them together for a reason. Fate, after all, is never clear-cut, nor easily read.

Chapter I

Chapter III is up on Patreon - Skadako

AO3 (the art is better quality on AO3)

The awesome art is done by @salty-french-fry

Chapter II

"Adrien."

Startling awake, Adrien turned over from where he'd been tucked away in the back of his pod. Floating outside was his father, and he looked none too pleased by the fact that it was early afternoon and Adrien was still asleep. Little did his father know that he'd only just returned some three hours prior, having spent a majority of the morning swimming all the way back to the city.

"Yes, Father," he said as he stretched, yawning once as he rubbed his eyes.

"Your mating ceremony is tonight," he said as he crossed his arms over his broad chest. "I would think you'd be a little more alert given today's importance."

Shrugging, Adrien slinked down out of his pod, generally attempting to avoid his father. But, alas, Gabriel grabbed him by the shoulder before he could get away.

"I realize that everyone in the city thinks you're the perfect siren, but this sort of inattentive attitude will not be acceptable to your future mate."

Frowning, Adrien turned to meet his father's cold gaze, uncertain what he was expected to say. While he was perfect in public, he knew both Nathalie and his father were aware that he was not the least bit enthused about the prospect of a mate. Yet, being the prime merrow that his father was, he had little sympathy for Adrien's situation.

While Gabriel wasn't a warrior and never had been, he was still well-respected amongst their social circles. He was a businessmer and an explorer. A merchant. He couldn't be soft to lead that sort of life. That he was a broad, intimidating figure only defended his position as an upstanding merrow, even if he didn't participate socially as often as most. His severe countenance was only accented by his sleek, gray tale and white underbelly, which were shorter than Adrien's—as all merrows' tales were—and lacked the showy layers in favor of a sharp, duel lobed caudal fin.

There was all the more pressure on Adrien to be the perfect siren as a result. His mother and father had once been a perfectly suited couple, or so he'd heard. His mother's death had been a tragedy, and now he had to live both for himself and for her. Everyone expected him to be her, to be the example for the family as the only child they'd been able to conceive. He was no proud, warrior merrow, but if he mated well, that would be the best he could do.

"Nor will your lackluster enthusiasm," Gabriel finished.

"I don't want to be mated, Father," Adrien said quietly.

"What would you rather have happen?" Gabriel asked, finally releasing his arm. Adrien sank to the ground a moment later, his father remaining domineeringly above him. "It's time to grow up and take your place in society. I can't protect you forever, but a good wife with suitable breeding can."

"I can protect myself," Adrien dared to mutter.

"Because you pretend at sword training? You've never practiced outside this house, and even then, you have no natural defenses. We all have to live our lives as the world dictates, Adrien, and I won't watch you put yourself in danger because you're unwilling to accept that. Now, get ready for the ceremony. Chloe Bourgeois is already here to assist you."

Apparently deeming the conversation over, he swam over Adrien's head and right out the door, deeming it appropriate to leave his only son nearly crying on the floor. Or so Adrien told himself, before taking a forceful breath and burying his emotions back in a hole where they belonged.

A few moments later, he heard the familiar swishing of Chloe's tail through the water. She was accompanied by one other, her bodyguard and friend, Sabrina.

Sabrina was a merrow, but she wasn't wholly suited to warrior life, not with her thin tail and shimmering silver color. She was quite common looking for lower-ranking merrow, hardly standing out. Her position as a siren's bodyguard was a low one, but she didn't seem to mind.

Turning to face them, Adrien cleared his expression of his previous misery in favor of a small smile. "Hey, Chlo," he said, noticing how relieved she appeared at the sight of him. "Hello, Sabrina."

"Hello, Adrien." Sabrina smiled brightly in return, not the least bit aware of why Adrien wasn't as excited about the ceremony as nearly everyone else. "Chloe said you'd need help getting ready. I may be a merrow, but I've helped Chloe get ready plenty of times."

"Thanks, Sabrina, I appreciate that."

"You look terrible," Chloe said then, curling her lip some as she circled him, as if evaluating what she had to work with. "Did you get any sleep last night?"

Adrien knew she was asking facetiously, but he answered honestly nonetheless. "Not really. I was up nearly all night." An innocent comment that anyone who didn't know any better would think stemmed from nerves, but by the way Chloe's complexion paled, she knew exactly what he meant.

"Do us a favor, won't you, Sabrina?" she said a moment later. "Go to Nathalie and fetch some of Aunt Emilie's old jewelry. I fear Adrien may require as much as possible, if we're to draw attention from the splotchiness of his skin."

"Certainly, Chloe." Bowing her head lightly, Sabrina was soon swimming back out the door, leaving Adrien to bear Chloe's critical gaze.

"What did you do last night?" she hissed out a moment later, sinking down so she could look Adrien square in the eyes.

"I followed that ship," he admitted easily enough. "All the way to land."

Eyes narrowing, Chloe grabbed his hand to have a look at his finger, which was still sporting his silver ring.

"I didn't get the chance to leave it anywhere," he admitted. "But I did see some humans."

Chloe's eyes bulged.

Adrien, meanwhile, was finding himself getting quite excited over the whole experience. "I swam up to their ship, to see if there was a place I could leave the ring, and I was close enough that I could hear their voices and see their faces."

"Adrien!" Chloe hissed out, grabbing his arm as tightly as she did. "What's wrong with you? What if they'd seen you?!"

Flicking his gaze from hers, he looked pointedly at his reflection in the mirror nearby.

Chloe's claws dug into his arm. "Did they see you?"

"They didn't do anything to me," he defended.

"Adrien!" Flitting away, Chloe swam in a pacing circle before dropping down in front of him again. "Don't you understand how dangerous they are? What if they'd decided to capture you? Or worse? Do you want to end up like Kagami did? Dead because of your own stupidity?"

Adrien cast her a disapproving look, yet couldn't come up with much in the way of a defense. As far as the mer-folk were concerned, Kagami had gone missing the night before her mating ceremony and never been found again because she'd been captured by humans. And while she was, indeed, gone, Adrien would wager she'd less "gone missing" and more than likely run away. While Kagami had been quite a few years older than him, she'd been his playmate for many years. They'd spent days playing at swords in the back garden, honing their abilities to the best of their knowledge despite everyone else's unwillingness to help. Even Chloe had joined in on occasion, though she'd never much approved of their practice.

And much like Adrien, she'd been less than keen on the idea of mating, albeit more vocal in her objections.

But as of those days, Kagami was a cautionary tale. An example used to warn others of the dangers of humans.

"You weren't there," Adrien eventually said. "They never tried to do anything to me. Did you know we speak the same language as humans do? I could understand them. And they seemed more interested in getting me to leave than they were in capturing me."

"It could have been a ruse," Chloe argued. "Humans are foul—they could have been trying to trick you."

"I don't see how. Besides…" He smiled a bit to himself. "One of them was quite beautiful."

Chloe cast him the flattest, most unimpressed look he'd ever seen.

"I think she was the one in charge of the ship," he continued, not much caring what she thought. "One of the others called her 'cap,' like captain. She knew what sirens were, and that I was one." And she'd called him a 'pretty thing,' which he didn't mind coming from someone he thought was also quite lovely.

"Adrien, what's wrong with you?" Chloe said a second later. "You can't go getting involved with humans! They're dangerous!"

"Not any more dangerous than merrows," he countered coldly.

"Now you're just being ridiculous."

"I'm not. I'm—"

His defense was cut short a moment later, when Sabrina came swimming back, her arms loaded with golden jewelry. The subject of his previous escapades was dropped as a result, all focus put on preparing him for the ceremony.

It should have been his mother getting him ready, as the parental siren in his family. But as she was gone, help from a close friend would have to be good enough. Chloe scrubbed him clean as carefully as she could, she helped clean out the crevices of his fins, and she sharpened his claws into fine, elegant points. She then used a pale, light green body paint to carefully decorate his skin. Curved stripes accented his hips. An elegant line was drawn up from his bellybutton, up through the center of his chest, and branched out around his shoulders. She placed perfect, tiny circles at the base of the line and at either side as it branched off, as well as in a sweeping design beneath his eyes. A small mark was drawn down from the bottom of his mouth, to draw attention to his lips.

Once she finished there, she took altogether too much time to decide the jewelry he'd wear. She ultimately declared that he didn't need much—not with his naturally golden fins and tail, which no jewelry could rival ("much like my own tail, of course"). A simple chain and necklace around his neck, bangles for his wrists, and a plethora of rings to adorn his fingers.

Satisfied that no one but herself could rival his beauty, she then went about decorating herself in much the same way, only with blue accents and a bit more jewelry. By the time she was done, it was nearly time for them to be leaving, which did—admittedly—have Adrien's nerves a bit twisted.

Despite the fact that he'd known this was coming his whole life, it now seemed to be upon him far too quickly. So quickly that it became difficult to keep track of time. He hardly noticed when his father and Nathalie came to fetch them, looking him over approvingly before announcing that guests were beginning to arrive. He followed them out shortly after. Wrapping his hand far too tightly around Chloe's arm, he kept her close the entire way.

His father had hosted plenty of parties, whether he found much joy in them or not. It was expected, given his status, and they had a large atrium at the center of the house for such occasions. Lined with stone columns, it was open to the ocean and bordered with a garden of only the prettiest flora—red algae, brilliantly colored reef, occasional anemones. The round floor was tiered, steps leading down into the center, where an intricately painted platform of swirling reds and purples awaited.

This was where Adrien was expected to put himself and stay for the duration of the party. It was called a ceremony—a debut—but all that was really involved was that he present himself as a fully matured siren for all in attendance. Everyone coming knew him and knew he'd just turned eighteen—they all knew what to expect. He was of mating age and, as a high-status, "beautiful" siren, would be expected to pick a mate within a few days, if not that very night. Perhaps others anticipated that he'd been thinking and fawning over potential mates for months in anticipation of this moment, but they couldn't be more wrong.

Yet, even so, he was expected to act his part. There was some applause and congratulatory smiles as he entered the atrium, which he returned with an understated smile of his own. A lot of notable mer-folk were already there—guard commanders, their mates, their children. Chloe's father was in attendance, as were quite a few notable tableteers (those who engraved and reported on events throughout the clan—they did so on replaceable tablets at the center of town. It was where any and all news was spread). Basically, any one of any import would be arriving.

But it wasn't the society that unnerved Adrien so much as it was how he was expected to behave throughout the night. Not only was he to remain at the center of the atrium for the duration of the party—so anyone and everyone could swim around, gawking and assessing him like a prized lobster—but he was expected to preen and display for potential mates he was "interested" in. Which involved a lot of fanning fins, flirty smiles, and—if he was certain of a mate—an exhibit of his "willingness" as a means of being totally "enraptured" despite how public the ceremony was.

He was "property," after all. Once he belonged to a mate, they would regulate his private life. But as nothing more than a siren, it was expected that he display his readiness as a means of flattering potential mates, even if such a thing would remain behind closed doors from that point on. It was because of his nature that this was expected—it was a show and he had to make it clear all that he had to offer—be it in beauty, in temperament, or in sexuality.

Thankfully, the notion of public arousal from sirens—while encouraged—was not required unless he was truly trying to impress a merrow in attendance. Yes, he had to greet certain merrows flirtatiously just by default of who they were, but if he kept himself restrained—if he looked as though he were weighing his options—then he could get through the ceremony without having made a decision at all. Which bought him at least a few more days.

And seeing as he was the "most desired" siren of his generation, he could get away with being coy.

He dragged Chloe down to the center of the atrium with him, despite that it would usually be frowned upon to have another siren taking up his spotlight. But seeing as Adrien wasn't in dire need of mating proposals, he wasn't worried about Chloe detracting from his appeal. In fact, he hoped she would. The less attention on him, the happier he'd be.

"You need to calm down," Chloe said rather strictly as they floated some just above the center of the atrium. Yet, despite how he agreed, Adrien couldn't fight back on the anxiety plaguing his entire body. It was like every eye in the atrium was looking down on him, watching every move he made. Which wasn't so usual, really, but as of that moment, every action he'd ever made and word he'd ever spoke was cascading down atop him. He stood on the tip of a pin, his entire future riding on the outcome of that night.

It was too much.

And when a few female merrows—those wearing dark bangels, which symbolized their availability—began to circle him, clearing giving him appraising looks, Adrien wanted to do nothing more than swim away into the garden and hide.

"Adrien!" Chloe hissed. "You look like you just got chased by a shark. Would you fan out your fins?!"

She was right. He'd curled up on himself as the merrows had approached, his fins folding in and lying flat. That everyone else was staring on, speaking to each other in low voices, didn't help.

He felt like he was trapped with absolutely no one willing to help him.

"Adrien!" Chloe hissed again.

Swallowing hard, he did his best to push back on his anxieties, forcing his fins to fan and his tail to uncurl. A few of the circling merrows chuckled, likely interpreting his behavior as shyness and not terror—though even if they did know he was scared, that probably wouldn't have deterred them.

"Hello, Adrien."

The sound of his name startled him, causing him to whip around only to see Lila closing in. She hovered some above him, a wide smile on her face as she swam right up into his personal space.

"Hey, Lila," he choked out, once again tightening his hold on Chloe's arm.

Lila was a prime merrow. Muscular arms and torso, long claws, and a hardened tail that was no doubt good for pushing her swiftly through the water. She had a tanned complexion, which faded to brown along her tail back. Dark brown stripes flowed down the back of her tail, while the underside was a creamy white. At the end of her tail was a sharply shaped caudal fin, which was divided into two lobes. She had two small pelvic fins as well, and a dorsal fin that protruded sharply from her lower back. She was a bit nicked around the edges—probably from skirmishes outside the city—but that was considered a desirable trait among merrows.

The smile she was throwing his way was a bit too suggestive, her green eyes looking him blatantly up and down. Long, brown hair stretched all the way along her back, the very end braided to hold it in place, and her sharply cut bangs made her expression appear all the more intense.

"You look a little overwhelmed," she commented, pushing herself even closer. "I'm glad I could be here. It's probably better for you, seeing a familiar face."

"Oh, yes, of course," Adrien replied, offering her a small smile of his own.

"You're so cute," she said a moment later, reaching out to touch the tip of his nose with her finger. "I'll be glad when all of this is over, because then I'll have you all to myself."

Her comment had his skin crawling, while Chloe gaped a bit in disgust beside him. It was a very forward remark, after all. Yes, he was expected to choose a mate, but that choice was still his own. Even if she was just that confident in her chances, it was still an untoward sort of a thing to say.

"We'll see, Lila," Adrien replied civilly. "I'm still making up my mind, after all." He tried to sound playful, but he wasn't sure how well he succeeded.

"I bet you are," she said, once again swimming closer, until they were practically nose to nose. "Just be sure to make the right decision. We wouldn't want any confusion on the matter, now would we?"

He couldn't tell if she was flirting with him or… threatening him.

"Whatever decision I make will be the right one for me, no doubt."

"I think both your father and I feel the same way," she replied, offering him one final, knowing smile before she turned and flitted off through the water.

Adrien, not understanding the implications behind her words, turned to stare up at his father, who was floating up near the top of the atrium. Yet, he appeared to be paying Adrien little to no attention, speaking instead with a group of politicians that Adrien had never been allowed to learn the least bit about.

"Don't let her get to you," Chloe murmured a moment later, snapping Adrien's attention back her way. "There are plenty of other merrows much more suited to you than Lila Rossi."

Smiling, Adrien attempted to be calmed by her words, but they did very little at putting him at ease. His performance was very poor as a result, as he found himself constantly ridden with apprehension as a result of his exchange with Lila. It wasn't helped by the fact that very few of the merrows showed honest interest him, which was both surprising and unsettling. Though they circled and cast him appraising look, very few dared approach in any intimate fashion.

They gazed at him as though he were a trinket far out of their reach, only three or four—who were, by far, the most elite of all the available merrows—bothered speaking to him for any great length of time, yet there was no actual intention in their words.

It left Adrien so twisted with nerves when the party ended some hours later that he was hardly able to make it out of the atrium. Chloe pulled him along beside her, until the quiet seclusion of the mansion was able to settle his thoughts.

He and Chloe ended up in his bedroom, Sabrina floating quietly nearby as Adrien paced in a circle.

"Something isn't right," he muttered, his stomach rolling with unease. He'd been to plenty of mating ceremonies, after all, and though it might have looked like what was to be expected from the outside, he knew things had not gone as would have been normal.

The way Chloe tightened her jaw and remained silent only proved his suspicions.

"I don't understand," he admitted quietly, sinking down into the center of the room. "It was like… like nobody took me seriously. Like we were simply rehearsing for the real ceremony or—or—"

"Adrien…" Chloe reached out toward him, as if she might comfort him despite sympathy not being one of strong suits, but was interrupted when a tall shadow fell across the blue light of the blooming crystals. They all snapped their attention around to the door, where Gabriel floated, his hand clasped behind his back.

"Chloe, Sabrina, it is late," he said coldly. "I believe it time you both returned home."

Clearly startled by his abrupt appearance, Chloe nodded before swimming over and grabbing Sabrina by the arm. Though she cast Adrien one final look, she couldn't stay. Without another word, she skirted past Gabriel as he moved aside, Sabrina trailing right behind.

Once they were out of the way, Gabriel pushed himself fully into the room.

Adrien slumped a bit lower upon the floor.

"You presented yourself very poorly today," Gabriel said stiffly, his gaze cold as he laid it directly upon Adrien.

"I was nervous," he admitted honestly.

"I didn't expect much better given that you have shown only distaste in relation to your mating."

Dropping his gaze to the floor, Adrien grit his teeth and stayed quiet.

"No matter," he continued. "I anticipated your lack of interest some months ago. Your mother was much the same, before her mating with me was arranged."

Snapping his gaze back up, Adrien gaped. "Arranged?"

"Yes, arranged," Gabriel agreed. "Your mother's inability to choose a mate as was fitting resulted in her mating being arranged. While it's an old practice, it is not wholly unheard of."

"Father—"

"Everyone has been watching you, Adrien. I was not the only one that anticipated you would be difficult to mate off. Your lack of interest in any merrows has forced me to consider other options."

Straightening, Adrien tried to come up with an objection, but none formed in his thoughts. While it wasn't often practiced, the head merrow in a family could both impede upon and arrange mates for those within their care. Mostly this was used to stop the mating of one mer to a mer beneath their social status. But it could also be a means of arranging a mating. And as Adrien belonged to his father until he submitted to a mate, it was well within his father's rights to mate him to someone he chose, instead of who Adrien chose.

"I've told you time and again that mating is for your benefit. It will ensure that you're taken care of when I'm gone. Yet you have fought the idea at every turn." Gabriel paused, the silence between them heavy. "Three offers were made to me prior to your mating. All from suitable families whose daughters would be more than capable of caring for you in the future. And as you have shown no interest, I have simply defaulted to making the choice for you based on the most generous offer made to me." Not because he needed whatever they'd offered him, but because it gave him reason to make the choice.

Adrien had failed to choose his own shackles, and so Gabriel had sold him to the highest bidder.

Lila's comment during the ceremony abruptly made perfect sense.

"The Rossi family will be over tomorrow morning for the official send off," he replied. "The union ceremony will be performed the same as though you had picked Lila for yourself. You will then abandon your life here and start a new one alongside your wife."

"Father, wait!" Finally, Adrien's voice came to him. Desperately, he tried to come up with any way to stop the stone that was now rolling unhindered and out of his control. "I know I've been difficult, but I'll choose a mate of my own, I promise! I'll do it tomorrow! Please, just—"

"It's already done, Adrien," Gabriel replied, not seeming at all fazed by his son's pleading. "Lila Rossi is a fine merrow and will do well in keeping you safe and secure in the future. You will lead a life not unlike the one you have lived up till now, and there will be no concern over your future."

"But I—"

Gabriel sighed. "I realize you feel no affection for Lila Rossi, but you clearly feel no affection for any other merrow, so I'm failing to understand how this arrangement could be any different than whatever choice you could possibly make come tomorrow."

"Because I don't care for her at all! I actively dislike her!" Which was a far cry from being neutral.

His response seemed to displease his father all the more. "Mating is not always about affection, Adrien. Your mother felt little for me when we mated, but given time, came to feel as strongly about me as I did her. Lila clearly favors you despite the fact that you don't care for her, which is more than you likely deserve given the situation. In time, you will come to appreciate her. Perhaps you will even find some sentimentality, should you be willing to try.

"I will hear no further objections on the matter," he finally finished. "Ready what few belongings you wish to go with you—the morning will not wait."

Not even providing Adrien a moment to say anything, he turned on his fin and swam back out the way he'd come. He left Adrien wide-eyed and gaping, not a single care for the fact that he'd shattered his son's world as he'd known it.

All too quickly, hopeless despair overcame Adrien. He could hardly comprehend what he'd just learned, let alone somehow deal with it. While Lila had always been very obvious in her intentions toward him, he'd never fathomed that he'd mate with her, simply because he'd known from the beginning that he'd had no interest. She was pushy, demanding, and altogether too uncaring of those around her. Adrien had always found her too much of a braggart and too selfish.

Yet, now he had to entertain a life with her. His whole future would be wrapped up with this woman that he actively disliked. He'd have to live with her, and make a home with her, and create a family with her.

And as that thought occurred to him, Adrien somehow knew that she wouldn't respond well to being told "no" in any situation. He'd seen the way she'd looked at other sirens—like they were nothing. And while she'd always wanted him, it wasn't because she somehow thought him different. He was an object to be bought and to function as expected. That was all she wanted out of him and if he didn't deliver…

He didn't know what would happen.

"I get the feeling this whole ceremony thing didn't go too well," Plagg said, his voice somewhat subdued as he poked his head out of the decorated jar he'd been hiding in during the duration of the party. Startled by the sound of his voice, Adrien turned to the tiny kwami, who was casting him an uncomfortably sympathetic gaze.

"No," Adrien said weakly. "It didn't."

His whole body tingled with nerves, his emotions bloating inside of him despite how useless it was to express any sort of grief. His hands were shaking, his whole body beginning to echo with light trembles. And as he took a helpless look around the room—looking for solutions that weren't there—his gaze tripped across his reflection in the mirror.

Staring at it for a moment, he was soon pushing himself through the water, until he floated directly in front of it. Continuing to stare his reflection down, his gaze eventually turned to a glare before he reached up and began to violently scrub at the paint adorning his body. He rubbed and scratched and torn at it until it was completely gone—until his skin was glowing a harsh red as a result. He then tore all the golden jewelry away, throwing the chains, bangles, and rings aside.

Yet, even with none of the trappings of his station, the reality of his situation could not be undone. He was still trapped with a mate he didn't want, still victim to the expectations of his people.

Sinking back down before his mirror, he hunched and curled in on himself.

"I heard what you and your father were talking about," Plagg said some moments later, coming to float up beside Adrien. "Seems like you really are in a tight spot."

"A horrible spot, perhaps," Adrien replied quietly.

"Then why go through with it?" Plagg asked.

"I don't have a choice!"

Plagg appeared skeptical. "You always have a choice. It's just a manner of acting on it."

Turning to look at him, Adrien cast the tiny kwami a curious look.

"Just because other people say you don't have a choice," Plagg said knowingly, "doesn't mean you have to listen." The little kwami's slitted eyes pulled up toward the ceiling then, Adrien following his gaze to the sunning window, which was currently closed.

Suddenly, Kagami flitted through his thoughts. Everyone said she'd been captured. That humans were responsible for the fact that she'd been unable to come back once she'd returned to her senses. Yet Adrien had never truly believed such things. He'd never really known what to believe, not entirely.

Not until that very moment.

"You've done it before, plenty of times," Plagg murmured, now hovering close by his ear. "Why would tonight be any different?"

"But where would I go?" Adrien asked quietly.

"Anywhere you bloody well like."

Plagg was right, he could do it. No one would likely expect it of him, and so no one would be watching. Kagami had been a rare, isolated case after all, not what some would consider a precedent.

Not yet.

But if he did leave, it would mean leaving everything behind—his friends, his family. His home. Then again, was he not being forced to do that anyway? He had no way of knowing what Lila would do once they were mated. She could very well dictate that he never leave the house again.

As far as he could figure, either way was a risk. But if he was the one making the decisions, then at least he had some control. If things did end badly, he'd have no one to blame but himself. And at least he'll have tried, which was better than simply submitting to a life he didn't want.

Continuing to stare up at the sunning window, he felt his heart speed up in his chest. It was already late. If he wanted, he could leave then. Just swim right out and never come back. They'd look for him, of course, which meant he had to leave soon. Leave with enough hours left in the night for him to get out ahead of any search parties. And he'd have to go somewhere they'd never think to look for him.

Somewhere they'd never dare to go.

Unexpectedly, the red captain's pretty face flitted through his thoughts. If he stuck close to humans—to land—then he might be safer from his own people. They wouldn't come so close, not with humans posing such a terrible risk. Granted, it was a risk for him as well, but he'd done it the night before and everything had turned out fine.

Perhaps he could return to the same shore and follow it to a new place. A new sea that was far, far away from his home. He'd be alone, but even that seemed better than the alternative.

It was either that, or face the future everyone else had planned out for him.

He didn't want a life spent in the shadows of others that had decided to speak and act for him. He wanted his own life, no matter the risks that came along with it.

"C'mon, Plagg," he whispered a moment later, gathering his wits about him as best he could. "You still want to get to the surface, right?"

"That would be preferable, yes."

Staring hard at the sunning window, Adrien made up his mind.

"Then let's go."

#miraculous ladybug #miraculous #ml #mlb #ladybug #cry of the siren #chapter ii #my fics #fics #mermaid AU #mermaid

145 notes · View notes