#They are everywhere and there is no escape water water water water salt salt salt salt salt

[thornedswan]

@softbobamilktae and I 🤝🏼 posts by Imjarons

[eldritch-spouse]

You are running naked in the Jungle, searching frantically.

You look and you see another human, the first one you've seen in months and you run towards them.

“Thank God! Listen, we need to get out of here immediately, it's dangerous! Do you know the way out? Back to civilization?”

You feel a tentacle around your ankles

[Months? Couldn't be me, I'd just die. Let's downsize that to a week. Fem reader.]

TW: Reader has a self-loathing inner monologue; Reader is in a bad place mentally; Dubcon to full consent.

It was a stupid idea.

You knew that when you started it. So did everyone that tried to convince you otherwise. But common sense isn't something that could have stopped someone like you, someone who was ill enough to think taking a break from life in the middle of buttfuck nowhere would work out.

You didn't even have any sort of experience in this type of thing. Neither did you seek any kind of useful tips.

You just wanted to escape.

And you did, literally, into a forested nightmare that you got lost in not even hours after your arrival.

You just wish you could find your car, you just wish you could find somewhere warm and comforting to sleep in.

It's been days. Probably a week by now. Your stuff all disappeared, somehow. You swear you're not tripping, it all just vanished! Your phone, your bag, your keys...

Your back hurts, the nights are cold and humid and you're sure you're getting sick by now. Clean water would be a godsend, you've been drinking and cleaning yourself with some questionable-looking sources for a while. Not to mention you can't feed yourself properly, and you certainly don't know how to hunt.

Not that there's much to hunt. Every time you think you hear a peep, there's a brush of foliage and silence dominates seconds later.

You're going to die.

A horrifying reminder that has your chest pounding painfully and sweat glistening on your forehead.

You don't want to die.

But the modern human wasn't born for the wilderness, and you can only stand being clothed for a little longer before the sensation of being dirty has you clawing the skin off your body.

It was a fucking miracle that you managed to get a small fire going.

Finally.

You can heat up that fish you caught earlier.

If it's still good. Is... This is safe to eat, right?

You lean to sniff at the leaf-wrapped catch.

Eh. You can stomach it...

God, you're starving.

One thing that's been bugging you for a while is how... Deserted this whole place feels.

You're no wildlife expert, but isn't this kind of location supposed to be brimming with animals? Why is it that, everywhere you go, it's mostly just you and insects bumbling around?

Shouldn't there be some mammals here? Some birds? Maybe a squirrel or a snake... Aren't there predators you'd have to worry about in this kind of scenario?

Ironically, being alone makes you feel even more stressed out than if you were constantly surrounded by wild animals.

You huddle closer to the small fire.

Alone.

But always so on edge.

Always getting that tingling feeling crawling up your spine.

The one that screams- Look, look behind you! You're in danger!

The phantom feeling of something hovering behind your neck, goosebumps that hardly fade every time you do turn around to check and find nothing.

Is this a normal amount of paranoia for your situation? Is this your brain trying to cope with the fact that you haven't seen much wildlife so far?

Or is there something watching you from beyond the trees?

Something stalking.

A persistence predator, coming and going, to check on its latest prey.

Oh, and what a catch you are. Big and juicy compared to the things that probably roam this place -Roamed, more like...

Have you wandered into the territory of something that'll inevitably snap its jaws around your neck?

...

Just eat the fucking fish already.

Food.

Focus on the present.

The smell starts to hit your nose. Salt, oh what you wouldn't do for some simple salt. How do people get salt?

You're glad you got some berries along the way too, because this fish is probably going to taste like ass. You're sure they aren't poisonous or anything of the sort. If they are, then you've been eating them for the past few days so honestly you could keel over at any moment.

You'll see.

Once the fish has roasted enough where it's likely safe to consume, you peel it open messily and start munching indiscriminately, ravenous.

It's... Well, it's sustenance.

It's about the most nutritious thing you've eaten since you got here.

This survival thing is harder than the fake actors on TV make it seem.

A sudden crack of a branch has you pausing mid-chew.

You truly feel like a deer when your head snaps up and you stand very still to listen for a follow-up.

Nothing.

Tired eyes strain, trying to make sense of a darkened blob in the distance.

Huh.

What the fuck is that thing?

Tall.

Two legs...

Arms?!

Shit- Could it be?!

That can't be possible, someone else roaming around this maddening forest. Is that a sign that you're somehow getting closer to civilization? That you're making it out by sheer luck? What cosmic force could be on your side this time? Maybe they just live here, like some kind of off-grid retired agent- Okay, you've been watching too many movies.

Without stopping to think twice about frankly important concerns regarding this sudden development, you place the cooked fish down on the leaf it was previously wrapped in and start scooting forward towards the silhouette you saw.

That build can only belong to a man. Well, you assume as much anyway. It's hard to spot more from here, with the foliage covering their form.

" H- Hey... "

You haven't used your voice in a hot minute. Some part of you almost doesn't recognize it. A healthy dose of paranoia stops you from brushing aside the obstacles and facing this person.

But you need to at least try, right?

The worst that can happen is that you really are hallucinating for some reason or another.

With a surge of bravery, but mostly desperation, you push all the branches and greenery away to run towards this person, opening your mouth to greet them, to beg for help, ask for new clothes or just something cooked!

" Hey! Please, I need your... Help? "

Nothing.

There's no one.

But that doesn't make sense, you clearly saw a silhouette, someone was there! You didn't even have to run that far, how could it be that you already lost sight of them? That they could get away so silently?

No. Everything's wrong.

Before you know it, your vision is blurring and your face heats as tears stain your cheeks.

Why... Why would your mind fuck with you like this? Going from a shining shred of hope to complete despair in seconds has you screaming inside.

Why is this happening to you?

Are you really about to die in a stupid fucking patch of nothing just because you can't deal with the stress in your life like a normal person? Just because you made one bad decision when everything was weighing heavy on your conscience? Are you really so incompetent and so pointless as a human that this is how your story ends?

Anger and regret blind you to everything, fingers course through your knotted hair as you sob and tug, having no way to calm yourself and nothing to unleash your tension onto.

The moment you try to stomp your foot in a petulant act, you find it rooted to the ground. It takes a couple more insistent tugs upward for you to realize that something is coiled around it, keeping it firmly planted.

The train wreck of emotions and bile of self-hating thoughts takes a backseat, goosebumps pricking your skin from tip of the head to your very toes. The first thing you think of is some kind of snake, eyes bulging behind digits.

You look down frantically, shaking, but in spite of the sky being clear, all you see is this reddish mass, with neither end nor beginning. What... What the fuck is it?!

The thing tightens around your ankle, starting to slide up the length of your right leg, up to your knee. And immediately, you panic, kicking and shrieking, achieving absolutely nothing and getting promptly tugged to the ground.

Yeah.

Maybe freaking out isn't the best bet for your survival here.

Twigs and dirt get on your face, it takes some coughing and swiping to finally clear your field of view. But honestly...

You almost wish you hadn't.

Curved over your prone figure, staring down, is a creature you have never seen before.

Bipedal and quite large, like the silhouette you had glimpsed before, but so very far from human. The reddish coloration spanning the length of that bizarre body makes him -Because, again, you can only assume that is a male- Look as if he's made of flesh quickly molded together to imitate the figure of a human. What initially made you think he was skinless soon turns into the realization that there was never room for skin anyway.

Because his body is quite literally comprised of what you can only call tentacles. Tendrils and coiling tissue that clings and organizes itself in the vague lie of an organism like yours.

From elbows to fingers and knees to feet, the tendrils become a lot more discernable, coiling and uncoiling while he watches curiously. The thing around your leg is one of said tendrils, coming from the mass forming his own. Along the length of its torso, sharp-toothed mouths form and shift, almost seeming to have a mind of their own as they scent the air and snap at nothing.

That head has got to be the most striking feature. It's an amalgamation of tentacles all wrapped around each other, leaving room for an incredibly sharp golden eye to fix you in place. This thing looks like it crawled out of a sleeping ocean, like the roots and vines of an ancient jungle came together to form a totally new an extension of themselves. He looks like he's been sculped from the guts of others yet also composed in a way your mind could never hope to grasp.

Somewhere between trying to determine if you're dealing with an animal or a person, you reach the conclusion that an animal wouldn't stare you down for this long.

An animal would take a couple of seconds to determine if you're prey or predator and act accordingly. He would have snapped your neck or suffocated you like a boa constrictor with those tentacles by now.

And yet, he just stares.

Like you're the strangest creature to ever grace the woods this thing probably calls a home. You're as freaky to him as he is to you, enough so that he seems out of depth on how to proceed.

You stare back.

This has got to be the monster that you saw back there. Watching you. Now that you think about it, maybe this was the reason you'd always have a tingling sensation reminding you that you're not alone. Because he was there all that time, stalking.

Plenty were the moments he could have dug your grave until now. It's strange that he hasn't. Because surely, he's seen how you're failing to adapt to this location. Every step you take, you're stumbling and getting pricked, hungry, thirsty, afraid, disoriented- You're a fish out of water and he could have ended that misery a long time ago.

Odd.

Neither of you move. It blinks, vertically. You blink too.

And then, it makes this chitter.

Wet, like a gargle, followed by some kind of rumbling as more of those tendrils that form his limbs unwind, explore.

They reach down towards your frame when he squats, and you stifle the urge to scream at the sight of them getting nearer. Because who knows what he's going to do...

They poke and prod, grabbing lightly at parts of you, wet yet not quite. Two coil around your arms, then elbows, then wrists.

Other strays squirm around your sides, unintentionally triggering a squirming reflex as you muffle helpless laughter.

The monster seems intrigued by the noise anyway, making his own vocalizations as if attempting to communicate with you.

Abruptly, there's a blur of movement and you're yanked into the air by the arms, shrieking in fear and pain.

Not for long, because more of his freaky, flowing appendages wind around your middlesection, hips and knees, pulling in different directions.

In seconds, mere moments, this being has you suspended in the air.

Immediately, your panicked mind is going places where it absolutely shouldn't.

He seems more relaxed now that you're restrained, that gaze becomes softer, clouded with curiosity. To be monitoring you this long, you don't doubt he has his own questions and intrigue regarding how you work.

When that hulking red mass walks towards you, anxiety prevents your mouth from staying shut.

" H- Hi? "

A sound not too different from the peep of a skittish bird.

One that causes him to cock his head in a brief pause, processing the noise, and returning it with his own light gurgle. One of the mouths on his figure gets the pitch right down to a T.

Soon, he's lacing a hand through your hair, grabbing it, manipulating the protrusion and stroking your head inquisitively. He squeezes and almost scritches at your scalp, reminding you of the way someone acts when spotting a particularly cute cat. Yes, hair is likely a mystery to this creature, you can kind of understand why it'd linger here.

But that doesn't change the fact that you're being patted like a pet by a strange, unknowable creature- And that's morbidly hilarious.

When your cheeks start to puff with laughter, his attention finally deviates. You can feel the tendrils that form every digit when he splays them across your face, tracing your eyebrows, playing with the tip of your nose and even trying to poke into your ears- Something he halts when you jerk away rapidly each time.

When he starts trying to put a digit in your mouth, he's a lot more careful, aware that you have teeth and can bite, even if yours are quite small and blunt compared to the ones he sports. He succeeds, because your strength is nothing compared to that of a monster of his size and nature. The digit he dips into your mouth rests there placidly for a couple of moments.

You aren't sure what to do. Biting is not a bright idea when you know this creature can probably easily dismember you in this position. He himself looks slightly lost, as if he put his finger in your mouth out of impulse mostly. A false sense of security begets your own curiosity.

Perhaps you're just insane already -That probably says a lot about your overall mental fortitude- But seeing another living being that behaves and looks vaguely like what you might call a person makes you feel calmer than you have since the beginning of all this. You know it's an irrational feeling, that you're not any safer than before, but it's a thread of comfort you desperately cling to.

And it's what allows you to look this thing in the eye while you experimentally lick his bizarre tendril-clump of a finger.

It was only a little flick.

But naturally, he felt it.

The monster rumbles something incomprehensible at you, leaning closer still to cast a shadow upon your front. In this position, he looms between your clothed legs, though seems mostly unaware of the lurid position he's got you in, fixated on your mouth.

The sensation of his digit unfolding into two separate thin tentacles is bizarre. You picture a human finger splitting in two and curse your brain. Said tentacles poke and wriggle, capturing your tongue between themselves.

Yes, that's probably the part of your body that most closely resembles the mass of prehensile tissue composing his own.

The touch has you drooling, saliva trying to break down something probably few to no humans have ever come in contact with. He tastes slimy yet slightly rugged in some areas, not something you'd write home about.

Reflex has your poor muscle squirming to be freed, but that only causes him to tighten the grasp upon it. And, surprisingly, to let out this humid noise that sounds far too much like a groan of delight for you to interpret it as anything else.

There's a pause from your part as you wonder, incredulously, if this thing just got turned on.

There's not much time to ponder, because that digit very quickly slips out, and as he examines the sheen of drool on it, something else steadily approaches your mouth.

Ah, you've graduated from finger to proper tentacle mouthfucking. Commendable.

Making light of the situation is about the least recommended course of action, but after what you've endured so far, you think you deserve to be a little, tiny bit, insane.

Apparently convinced that you won't try to harm him, the crimson monster wiggles that darkened appendage and taps it against your lips, seeming very interested in how this is unfolding.

You should not have opened your mouth.

But you did.

And he visibly brightened up.

The tendril wedges itself in without much hesitation, resting upon your tongue. Much thicker than his digit, your jaw has no choice but to stretch, and your lips wrap around it in a rather phallic, dirty image. You barely realize you're making an effort not to scrape your teeth on the appendage. Perhaps because the sensation of it is a tad spongy and remarkably similar to that of any standard manhood.

And, as if to give reason to your lewd comparison, he shudders at the warmth of your wet mouth, the thing pulsing within you.

While he mostly simply lets the extremity sit there motionlessly, you do explore, trying to lick around it out of morbid curiosity. He watches you avidly, but apparently, what really gets to this bizarre entity is feeling you suck down the saliva that pools in your cheeks, swallowing.

Suction. Because of course he'd enjoy that. What man doesn't?

That begs the question, is the thing in your mouth part of his genitals?

Again, thinking is a privilege you can't afford when that tentacle starts sliding down your throat experimentally. It doesn't take him long to trigger your gag reflex, a violent kick and curve forward from your part causing him to pull back quickly. But he continues to test the waters afterwards, probably seeking the sensation of your stressed throat muscles tightening around him.

Instinct takes over.

Because even if he seems truly out of his depth maneuvering a human body, he's curious and, if you had to guess, attracted to you. Enough to put sensitive things in your mouth, to fetishize that part of you. Hormones make things work, which means he soon realizes he can make repetitive back and forth motions to get friction.

And so, just like that, you're getting fucked in the mouth, inside the woods, by an eldritch abomination of a monster you might find in a cheaply made H. P Lovecraft rip-off.

It should not arouse you.

It should horrify you.

... But it doesn't.

Those reactions are missing, leaving you befuddled at your own enjoyment of the situation. Are you just happy to have someone around? Has it truly been so long since you received this type of attention that you don't mind if it comes from an entity of unknown origin who is clearly not civilized? Are you just a freak actively discovering new sides of your sexuality?

Who knows anymore.

All you know is that there's a wet noise ringing every time he thrusts that slimy thing into your mouth, that he's resorted to gripping your hips hard while making intense eye contact, that he growls and gurgles whenever you have enough control to suck at him. If you had to guess, it's his unwavering, lewd and fascinated observation of your face and lips that has you likely forming a wet spot on your poor pants.

You think your wanton squirming is subtle, but reality proves otherwise when the monster starts getting distracted, one of those pupils shifting to the rhythmic movement of your legs as you shamelessly seek friction. At first, he seems irritated, as if questioning why you'd want to leave when you'd been so docile so far.

Then it appears to click.

You can almost see it in his face, in spite of how inhuman it is, that eureka moment.

And the tendril in your mouth slows down to a crawl.

He starts pawing and pulling at your pants, but not aimlessly. Not at all. He's studied you, he knows what he's looking for, the button and the zipper. You pale a few shades, the only way this thing could know how to take pants off is if it saw you doing it, if it saw you relieving yourself or trying to bathe to avoid infections.

Just how many embarrassing moments did he catch?

Too many, probably.

Still, you're pleasantly surprised to see him so easily remove the garment, fluidly shifting the positions of his tendrils to avoid tangling the fabric in them. Your pants come off without a single blemish, aside from those they sustained previously. Is he removing them so carefully because he thinks you need them to survive or is he just being considerate?

Your underwear is treated the same way, he spares no extra thought to it, and only appears to pause once your pussy is exposed.

Usually, you'd feel self-conscious in this position. There's not a lot you can do to properly groom yourself without the simple privilege of soap and whatnot... But what does it matter here? As far as you know, for this monster, pussy is pussy regardless of it being shaved or bush-heavy, "perfumed" or au naturel.

And a soaked, needy hole is hard for a lonesome monster to ignore.

He looms closer to your womanhood, watching closely, gargling a string of vocalizations you still can't interpret, until another tentacle slithers into scene and slaps against your cunt.

No, literally.

The thing whips from mound to the bottom of your entrance, swiping up and down in a pace that has you seeing stars every time it flicks your clitoris and catches on a clenching entrance. To say your legs kick out occasionally from the intensity of the stimulus is no exaggeration, but he's quick to adapt his hold so you have no way of wiggling aside.

You don't know why it's doing that, but frankly, you don't care much, it just feels good. A racing heart and a heaving chest have you tipping your head back to moan against the thing stuffed in your mouth. You realize, a little belatedly, that he was probably mostly just trying to lube that appendage with your own arousal.

Your plump pussy still tingles when the assault stops on all sides, you strain to watch what he's doing, observing the monster evaluate the sheen now coating that wriggling extremity.

He's less careful than before now, a product of excitement no doubt, parking the somewhat thicker length at your entrance and pushing in tentatively for only a couple of moments before ramming a decent chunk of that tendril into your cunt.

Eyes bulging, you spit out a beastial sound that startles the monster, panting as you try to get used to the sudden stretch. He's reached a depth within you no one else has found before, and the pressure is such so that you've been robbed of the ability to speak.

He shouldn't be that far in you.

You may come from extremely distinct backgrounds, but some things are vastly universal, like the facial expression of pain. Which, credit where credit is due, he picks up on relatively fast. The moment the entity removes a good chunk of its length, you sigh and sag in momentous relief. That's a lot better. You still feel as if you're being stuffed to the brim, but there's no longer that stabbing pain.

He understands what he did wrong after a couple of still moments and some bizarre palping sensation from your insides.

Much like the previous tendril in your mouth, this one too starts to thrust back and forth, with more care now, experimenting with differing speeds and curling in various ways as he gets closer and closer to watch how you react.

You're no researcher, but maybe if the mounting pleasure wasn't swimming to your head and making it very very hard to think coherently right now, you'd be fascinated with the way this monster is being so thorough in his examination of you, wanting to learn what makes you tick in every way, what has you choking out noises and rolling your eyes.

So intense is the heat rushing through your body from his repeated, filthy motions that you hardly notice anything happening until his all-seeing eye is almost glued to your face. The tips of the tentacles that make up his rather disturbing head unfurl and appear to drip downwards, clinging to the sides of your face so he can fix it in place, observe every detail as soon as you part your mouth to moan and gasp and babble nonsense. Each noise you make is eagerly eaten up, he tries to mimic the same motions that make you squeal as if begging for more of them.

There's no time to warn or even shriek about it, your orgasm barrels its way down your body with the intensity of a bullet, curving you in its tentacles, a breathless "oh" being all you can offer as your abdominal muscles contract and you squeeze the life out of the tendril inside you, making a mess that drips to the ground between you two.

It may not have been easy to spot in that pleasured trance, but the monster halted to watch it all unfold, mesmerized. Retracting to test the nature of the new slick now grossly painting you.

By the time you're done riding the high of your climax, you've been shifted again, this time a little lower, and you find the entity staring down to the spot where your core meets something that wasn't there before.

You'll admit you didn't have the time to properly process the full extent of his appearance when he first appeared before your stunned self. Now you're unsure if this monster had some kind of pelvic pouch, or if he merely unfolded two more tendrils out of his mass where one would expect a dick to be.

The two appendages wriggle and roll impatiently, seeking each other before parting in search of heat, of wetness, slapping against your belly and thighs. They may not look like it, but you can only guess those are his cocks. And he's considering something quietly.

It's hard to tell what he's thinking right now, the communication barrier doesn't help. Maybe he worries that the length of them will hurt you. Perhaps he wonders if he can impregnate you this way. It could just be that he thinks perhaps mating with a strange human is not a good idea, but the way those things are spreading a coat of thick precum on your skin says otherwise.

Instead of letting his stall further, a small hand reaches down to feather over the tip of one of those members, immediately getting captured and pulled at in the process. His figure rattles, hips offering a useless piston before his head snaps back up to watch you.

" ... Try putting one in. "

You murmur, knowing damn well it can't understand a single word.

He looks back down, peels back to spread your cuntlips invitingly, then seems to make up his mind, allowing the very tips of both squirming cocks to connect with your entrance. They've found warmth and they're desperate to worm in, stretching and flirting with your walls.

You grin incredulously, already trying to guess what it'll feel like, gasping as soon as he leans forward and allows more exploration. The first hint of a burn arrives as he rumbles in delight-

But a branch snaps in the distance.

And the moment is ruined because he halts immediately, your cry of frustration ignored entirely.

His body twists in an unnatural way so he can glance behind, inhuman eye seeing through greenery and undoubtedly spotting something off.

In the tense quiet that has now settled, even you pick up on the faraway mumbles of what must be people.

Eyes widening, snapping out of this episode, you begin to squirm earnestly now, wanting to see them, to find a way back, to go home!

Finally, people came looking for you!

The monster snaps back around, making you realize how truly fucked you are in these circumstances. Something flashes in that gaze, a hint of contempt, of hurt maybe.

Something too human to fall upon such a nightmarish face.

You can only scream as more tendrils dart in lightening speeds to cocoon you inside them. That single noise being all that escapes before you're forcibly gagged and physically thrown over the monster's shoulder.

His molding body swings from tree to tree in a blur of movement, taking you God knows where...

And leaving your saviors in the dust.

[captainwinterrsoldierr]

Title: Trauma

Percy Jackson x Fem!Reader

Syn: reader and Percy comfort each other after experiencing Tartarus

-

You limped through the Argo ii. You desperately wanted to rest and shower. Percy paced behind you with a hand on your shoulder. With an unspoken agreement you two went to his cabin on the ship. “Do you mind if I shower in here Perc? I’m not ready to be alone yet?” You urged. Percy looked at you with a worry glint in his eyes. You knew he wasn’t ok. But he always put on a such a strong act for you.

“Of course I’ll wait right here,” he gestured towards his bed. He flopped onto his cabin’s bed and closed his eyes. You grabbed fresh, clean clothes from your room quickly and made your way back to his restroom. You closed the door and looked at yourself in the mirror. Your face was scarily thin. You had soot everywhere. Your lips were incredibly chapped and damaged. Your arms were scattered with scrapes and bruises from the horrors of Tartarus.

You turned on the water to a nice temperature and removed the garments you had gained from hell. Aching is all you felt. You stepped into the shower and instant relief washed over you. You closed your eyes and breathed in. Flashes of Tartarus raced through your head. Mansion of the Night. Drinking fiery red hot river water. Almost losing Percy to the Arai. You cried. You couldn’t tell the difference between your tears and the water from the shower. As you sobbed you slid down onto the floor. You were safe now but all the images kept recycling through your head.

*knock knock*

“Hey love are you done now?” You heard Percy asked. He must’ve cracked the door open.

You wiped your tears and stood, “Yes sorry Percy I’ll be out in a sec.”

You didn’t hear the door closed. “Babe are you ok?” He questioned.

“Yes- I’ll be out now,” You choked out. You heard the door reluctantly close. You quickly swung the curtain open and changed. You propped open the door and found Percy showered and dressed, sat on the edge of his bed.

“Frank let me shower quickly in his room, I really needed that stench off of me,” He said. He studied you. You sat next to him.

“They’re replaying in my head too,” He muttered.

Your lip quivered. Without even saying out loud what was wrong. He knew. He knew exactly what was wrong with you.

“Percy- I,” You sobbed. “I’m so sorry I dragged you down there, I’m so sorry you almost died multiple times cause of-”. Percy pulled you into his chest. His hands cradled the back of your head. You sobbed into his chest. “I was so scared Percy I thought I was going to lose you.”

“It was never your fault, it was that damned earth goddess.” He kissed the top of your head gently. His warmth. His sea salt scent brought peace to you. You pulled away gently and his hands grasped your face. His sea green eyes seeped into yours.

“I was scared I was going to lose you sweetheart, I don’t… I can’t live my life without you,” He breathed.

You hadn’t realized how scared he was from Tartarus. How much did he actually put up a brave wall for you.

“We’re going to be ok,” You assured.

“As long as we’re together,” He confirmed.

Your thumb grazed his cheek. You pulled him closer. Your lips touched softly. He kissed you. His other hand pushed your head for a deeper kiss. A mew escaped your lips. You were safe with Percy now. The war wasn’t over yet. But for now you two were safe. The kiss went on for long. His embrace was all you ever needed to feel ok.

He pulled away and kissed your temple, “Now let’s get some proper rest.” You nodded and you got cozy in his bed. He wrapped his arms around you and you sighed contently. “I love you seaweed brain,” You murmured as you drifted into a peaceful sleep with your soulmate by your side.

[you-til-i-die]

wishin’ I could write my name on it

f.odair x fem!reader

summary: a sneak peak into you and finnick’s lives

warnings/content: I wrote and edited this all in one sitting so if it’s absolute shit that’s why<3 district four victor!r, r is said to have throw up a few times, but none of it is graphic. mentions of blood and sex trafficking, cannon-typical shit really, swearing

song: august - ts

wc: 1.9k

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺

You and Finnick have one rule.

Don’t talk about it. Don’t ask about it. Don’t acknowledge it.

When the two of you are together, you can just forget about it. You can hang out on the beaches of District Four and pretend like these aren’t your lives.

But they are.

And it always somehow seeps through the cracks.

It’s in the way Finnick’s eyes are dull and empty the first few days after a trip to the capitol.

It’s in the way your laugh has morphed into a short bark.

It’s everywhere and it’s everything.

There’s no escaping it.

It haunts your dreams, it probably haunts Finnick’s too, even though you’d never ask.

Because that’s the rule. No asking. Ever.

————————————————————————

It was August. The sun seemed to slowly be getting the message that fall was getting nearer, the rays a little less intense then they had been a few weeks ago. The water was even the tiniest bit cooler, soothing a stubborn sunburn on your shoulders.

You were laying on the beach, face down on a towel, trying to ignore the stick of salt drying on your skin. You can’t help but let out a yawn, exhausted from the still persistent heat and trying to win against Finnick in a swimming race all day.

You were so relaxed. Focusing on the waves crashing against the shore. And the presence beside you that you knew was Finnick.

You honestly were about to fall asleep before he speaks. He mentions it so casually, he might as well have been asking what you wanted for dinner.

“Snow needs me in the capitol. I’m leaving on Friday.”

His voice is completely flat, devoid from all of its usual humor. It made you nauseous. You consider asking if he feels the same way, but you don’t. That was the rule. And you know the rules.

You push yourself up onto your elbows to get a good look at him, to try and decipher the look on his face. You could almost always read him. You hadn’t spent four years attached to each other to not learn the subtle mannerisms of the other. But this was different. It always was.

You and Finnick could talk about almost anything together. The games, the fear that you could never seem to shake, the nightmares, the way it was sometimes hard to stomach killing even a fish. But you never talk about this.

You never talk about how Snow will whisk one, or sometimes both, of you away whenever he needs a favor. You never tell him how afterwards you have to scrub your entire body raw before you can even begin to feel clean again. You don’t tell him how the first couple of times you would sob until you threw up, but now you just curl up and do your best to avoid the pit in your stomach.

Well, truthfully, you had talked about it once. But never again.

You had just been crowned victor of the 69th Hunger Games, District Four’s second victor in four years. It was no surprise, really. You were seventeen, and one of the oldest in the arena. You were strong, quick, and smart. So, so smart. You had won through pure trickery, and everyone loved you for it.

It’s hard for you to remember what happened the week after you won. There’s little snippets, of course. Looking down at the blood on your hands, blood that wasn’t yours. The booming of a voice in the arena, announcing that you were the victor. You had won. You did it. You had made District Four proud. And then you threw up.

You must have blacked out afterwards, because the next thing you remember is being back in your suite in the training center, sobbing in Finnick’s arms while he held you. Most of what you can remember is centered around him. Gripping onto his hand like a lifeline while your stylists buzzed around you. Glancing over Snow’s shoulder at him while the president crowned you. Watching him standing in the wings of the stage while Ceasar Flickerman went over a highlight reel of your time in the arena. Finding your way back into his arms on the train. You’re pretty sure Finnick didn’t say more than the same couple words the first week. It seemed to be a constant variation of “I know honey, but you’re safe now. I’ve got you sweetheart.”

It wasn’t until your victory tour that he told you. You doubt he ever would have, if he didn’t know for sure it would happen to you.

He had sat you down on the train after a party in District Two and told you everything. How Snow would practically sell him to people. How he didn’t have a say, and how you wouldn’t either, unless you wanted everyone you loved to be dead. He had grabbed your hands, shaking hand in shaking hand, and apologized profusely. He told you how he would do everything possible to keep you safe, he would offer himself instead of you. But you knew that wouldn’t work. Snow gets what Snow wants, and if Snow wants you to fuck his friends for some sick favor, there was nothing you, or Finnick, could do to stop that from happening.

“Oh.”

“Yah.” Was all Finnick said, refusing to meet you gaze as he stared out at the ocean. He’s working one of the muscles in his jaw and you have to look away before you grab his face and do something stupid.

“When will you be back?” You don’t say it, but you’re sure he understands the meaning. Please say it’ll only be one night. Please tell me they won’t put you through it more than once this time. Please tell me you’ll be back to hold me through the nightmares soon. Please don’t make me wait for you more than I already do.

“I’m not sure. Snow said a couple of days.”

No no no no no no no please no.

You didn’t respond. Scared that if you open your mouth the bile collecting in your throat would spill out.

You just look over at him. Take him in. It’s no wonder why the capitol loves him so much. Although not for his humor, his kindness, his strength, the way he’s always looking out for everyone but himself. None of that. Just because he’s a pretty face. But in the bright, golden sun, you find it hard to disagree with them. He’s all broad shoulders and a strong jawline. Bright green eyes that always seem to shine when they look at you. Sharp teeth hiding behind that perfect fucking smile. Salty hair you wanted to run your fingers through. Credit where credit is due, the capitol knows how to pick a sex symbol.

But you don’t see a sex symbol. Not right now. Right now all you see is the person you want to hold on to, and never let go of. The person you’d throw it all away for, if he asked. The person who seemed to always have another layer for you to work your way into, but you’d be damned if you ever stopped trying to get to the root of him.

You’ve been staring for an embarrassingly long amount of time. Finnick notices, of course, because Finnick notices everything.

“Honey?”

You tear your eyes away from where they had been tracing the veins in his hands. “Hm?”

“You ok?” And there it is. That fucking wolf smile. All sharp canines and slightly raised eyebrows because he knows. He knows he’s got you in between his teeth and he knows you’re happy to stay there because it’s him.

You pause, but just for a moment, trying not to give him the satisfaction of winning, of successfully flustering you. But his eyes are boring into yours and it’s so hard to look away from him, but you do. He wins. He normally does.

“‘M just thinking.”

“What about?” He asks. Flopping down on his side, trying to get on eye level with you because it’s never just enough for him to win, he has to make sure you know that he knows it.

You just roll your eyes at him, there’s nothing else you can do.

“About how we’ve been out here since nine in the morning and it’s after noon now, and you haven’t reapplied sunscreen once.”

It’s his turn to roll his eyes now.

“I don’t burn, honey, you know that.”

“What about that time you were out all day, didn’t put sunscreen on once, and then I had to rub aloe vera on your back for a week because you burned like hell and all of your skin was peeling off?” You ask, smile working its way onto your face. You know you’ve got him. You’re winning now.

He pauses, he doesn’t back down easily. “It was a fluke. A glitch, even.” He says, trying his best to shrug his shoulders even though he’s lying down. He fails. It looks ridiculous. You have to try not to laugh. “I honestly think the sun just had a vendetta against me that day.”

You’re failing at biting back a smile now. “At least let me get your back because there is literally nothing you could say or do to ever get me to help you with a third degree sunburn again.”

He doesn’t say anything. Just makes a big show of groaning and rolling his eyes at you before rolling onto his back.

You’ve won.

“So dramatic? You know that? It’s like being friends with a child.” You say as you root around in your bag for your sunscreen. Trying to ignore the disgusting feeling you know it will leave on your hands as you squirt it out.

He props himself up on his elbows to look at you, surely about to counter with some story about you being much more dramatic than him, before you shove him back down, face in the sand.

“Ow.”

“You’re fine. A little sand never killed anyone.”

You decide to ignore his grumbling, focusing on spreading the sunscreen on his back. However, you can’t ignore the growing pit in your stomach that you know will be there until Finnick’s back from the capitol.

Still, they can’t take this from you. You’ve earned it. You deserve to be here, definitely not checking out your best friend who you know you can’t have.

You lose yourself for a moment. Letting yourself focus on the way his muscles feel under your hands. Maybe, one day, this could be real. The capitol will find new, attractive victors, and they’ll move on. You and Finnick can fade into the background, and just live.

You pull back, and grab the tube again, squirting it directly on his back. You start to rub it in before pausing for a moment, why not?

Quickly, you write your name in the sunscreen on his back. Snow has cameras everywhere. Maybe he’s watching. Maybe he’s not. But either way, at least for a second, you can say mine. All mine. You can’t take him from me, not really.

He feels it, lifting his head up just as you’re wiping away the evidence.

“Are you drawing on my back?”

You flash him your own smile. A little less wolfish, a little more coy.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺

A/n: Hi omg I wrote this in one sitting😭this has just been rattling around in my head for weeks now and I had to get it out lol. Constructive criticism and feedback is always appreciated, I hope you all enjoyed<3

[libertyybellls]

FEVERS !

finnick x reader series

pre seventieth-hunger games

contains; angst, heartbreak, second perspective, little to no use of ‘y/n’.

the water is anything but a mirror of your stagnant body, the waves are fighting the shore- crashing angrily as if to make a point of the fury climbing through your body.

you’re still, despite the slight water droplets tickling your bare legs. another year, another reaping, a handful of deaths. and with reapings in district four, came finnick, finally returning from the capitol.

it wasn’t hard to go on with your life without him, the most difficult of times being when you’d wake up with things to tell him, not knowing what was going on in his life. remembering how he looked down on you, how he laughed pointedly in your face before treating you like one of his fangirls- pretentiously slamming the door in your face.

but you were fine on your own now, over four long years had passed by in a flash and you’d left him alone- though he was everywhere and nowhere all at once.

you didn’t see him at the lighthouse near the pier, you didn’t hear him lauging when you’d walk to school together, you didn’t smell the sea salt whenever he’d walk into any room, didn’t feel the water spraying over you shivering body when he’d shake his wet hair out of the beach.

none of it mattered, your best friend was gone. you’d unfailingly remember the day finnick had been reaped, he wasn’t too sterling on putting on a mask back then. his eyes blown, his hesitance to step up to that stage. his eyes would’ve found yours in any crowd then. you thought you’d gone through the worst of it all losing him- oh, how you thought it was all over.

it was a dark morning in district four, you were simply just impending your attendance at the reaping to conclude, then return back to your bed, easier said than done.

your body distastefully pulled itself from the sand as the sun creeped up on the shoreline, signaling the end of your escape.

your mind was elsewhere- zoning out into your own world of issues until that familiar hue of lilacs from the hydrangea bush near your home caught your eye.

the trek from the beach was short, and your home was small. despite the fact that district four was amongst the wealthiest districts, the balance came in practical ways; enough food to go round, electricity and power for each family, but still treacherous working conditions.

finnick is standing behind the placemats of where the tributes will stand minutes from now, he can spot you in any crowd- but it scares him in a way. why can he only see you? despite the sea of girls your age surrounding you he can only see you.

the video plays, the same video that plays every year before finnick gets to get a good look at his tributes. it’s snow, he talks of war, of despair- as if the districts are a stranger to it.

usually he zones out, usually he doesn’t mind the names called. but something feels wrong about this day in particular. something that makes him easily strartled, like he should run.

you keep your eyes to your shoes, to the sand that covers the tips of them- but you can still feel his eyes, they’re burning you. not quite like the sun that scorches your eyes, but a burn you couldn’t hide from.

“ladies first!” your escorts voice is too peppy, it scratches your ears wrong. you just want to go home, more than usual. you want to close in on yourself.

the crinkling of the unfolding paper echoes through the microphone, a smile on the escorts painted lips, you almost feel like your dreaming.

you and finnicks minds are brought back to reality when your name is called. finnicks mind must have made it up, maybe hes been plagued with sun poisoning. his excuse is cut short as the girls around you form a gaping path from you to the stage, he knows you want to disappear, a part of him does too. your mother lets out a wail, but you can’t look at her- only as the peace keepers who lead you with hands on your back your back to the stage.

finnicks guilt consumes him wholly, it was surely his fault. something he did, something he said- he got your name into that bowl far too many times then it needed to be. he sees your face, he sees your tense shoulders as you walk your way up the stairs, onto the placemat on the stage. he knows you feel closed in at the stares, at the eyes of everyone- the cameras.

this is sickening, how well he can read you after all these years. how he has instantly promised to any god that was listening that he would not sleep until you made it out, that he would not quit the pleasure and charms of the capitolites until they gave you all of the materials you needed.

sickening, how your hair had waves it in- and he instantly knew it was from you taking your hair out of braids after they’d gotten wet from the saltwater. how you were slowly blinking- your dead give away at calming yourself down.

he cursed the crowd, he cursed snow, he cursed himself. how has nobody volunteered? how could snow try and hurt you after he’s spent so long shielding you from this exact moment? how could he let himself sit here and do nothing?

“and now, the boys!” the escorts voice makes finnick sick now, he swears he can feel blood dripping down his ears. the same voice that called out yours- that tried to take you to your death. “lux dagon!”

you’ve heard of him before, he’s a year older than you. he’s said to be charming, smart, likeable. all of your premonitions are proven to be true when he squares his shoulders off, a captivating smile flooding his mouth. unlike you, he doesn’t hesitate to stride up to the stage- he was a career child.

he’d waited his whole life for this moment, he was smarter, stronger, taller, and faster than you. his eyebrows were thick and dark, just like his round eyes. olive skin, and dark hair that fringed down to his forehead.

you were sure you were dead this moment, you were dead and you couldn’t even put up a fight. it was slightly enthralling, how your last bit of hope for survival was crushed at one mere name.

luxs smile reappears when he turns to you, the color was drained for your face- mouth slightly agape. he winks incredulously as he sticks his hand out to shake yours. you take it, well aware of the fact that your hand is very-likely soaked in sweat.

you can’t keep eye contact with him, all you can see is your mother being held back by peacekeepers- her face would be etched into your mind for some time. her only child, only family- you felt saddest for her most of all. because you knew this would be the last she saw of you before you’d be killed on television- you didn’t want to think about how helpless she’d feel, how she’d never quite be the same.

you try not to pay any mind to finnick as you make your way to the train car. infact, you don’t pay mind to anyone.

but nevertheless, finnick is hot on your tail- leaving no room for personal space. you’re sure it will be a long train ride, silent on your part.

the walls are dark grey, lined with gold. light fixtures decorate every surface. a plethora of food and drinks await you, none of it is fish nor vegetables. you don’t know what it is, but your stomach can’t handle the sight of it.

you sit on a red couch, gold hugs the ends of the seat. lux joins, taking the spot next to you. you don’t cause a stir when finnick sits in front of you, and certainly not when mags sits diagonal.

it almost feels like a sick joke to finnick, the idea that you’re infront of him after all these years, and not saying a word. you’re alive but you’re about to face issues larger than you’re ready for. it feels like he might never escape, like he may never rid himself of being tormented.

a voice tears him from his thoughts, “so, what can i do to win?” lux asks eagerly, his hands are clasped and his elbows are on his knees- eyeing finnick and mags.

finnick is solely not in a fit state to humor his excitement. looking to his lap with a sigh then pinching the bridge of his nose. “that’s a broad question.”

lux can’t sense the bitterness in his words, it almost seemed unprofessional of finnick. your district-mate mutters soemthing about how he’s already well equipped to kill, “water? what if it’s dry land?”

mags gets up from her seat, coughing- off to the bathroom. lux then splays his hands on his jean clad knees, and pushes himself up, irritated at the lack of response.

you can’t help but agree, if you’d really cared that much- if you were truly that desperate to win, and had been asking for advice to no avail, you’d be indignant as well.

one out of sight, finnick looks straight at you. your back is leaning into the cushion of the couch, hands fiddling. he wants to know where you are right now- that sinking dazed look is in your eyes, all he wants is to throw the rope and get you out of your head. “they love him already.”

you snap your head at his words, he doesn’t say your name- but it’s the first time you’ve heard his voice speak to yours in years. his words are covering the sweetness in his voice. you take this chance to study his face, a lot has changed- you just wished it wasn’t in these circumstances that you’d see your best friend again.

he sighs, “y/n.” finnicks eyes are pleading with yours now, “focus, if you can’t beat him, join him. we can’t have him being district fours favorite.”

your eyebrows furrow, you want to scream at him, it doesn’t feel right simply speaking to him- it felt too soon, but so long. “i’m sorry.” you let out a sigh, “can you speak in simpler terms, the poverty back home has given me brain rot- mr odair.” the ridicule in your tone has him seething, knuckles white as he grips the chair.

you’d never been one to simply forgive, you always held grudges, but never with him- it never should’ve been that way. finnick didn’t know what he expected when he thought he could simply prance into your life once more and beg for you to do as he says. he should’ve known you’d come up with a million reasons as to why he thinks he’s better than you, he knew you’d tricked yourself into thinking that he was on some sort of capitol high horse after winning.

but it’s what you’d do, what you’d always done. as if you were in a constant state of survival- this only scared him. finnick knew he’d make you a winner, no matter what it would take. he had nothing left to give to the capitol, his dignity, his body, his mind, but he swore he’d get you out of this- though he also knew the victors life would tear you to shreds.

you didn’t want to treat him this way, it was only the way he looked at you like he was high and mighty. so egotistical, nothing like the boy you once knew. as if his mind was superior to yours, like he was too snotty to be in your presence.

he sits up in his chair, running a hand through his hair before leaning close to you. “i’m just trying to help you.”

you knew this, yet you couldn’t take it. his advice burned your ears, it made you feel small. to have him try to teach you, after all that’s happened.

after a few beats of your eyes latching onto the ground- neglecting eye contact as he desperately tried to gauge your interest, he stood up, almost disappointedly. you supposed this was him turning in for the night.

the sceneries whizzed past you in the window, greens and brows in a haze. you just wanted to be back home, on the beach- far far away from the capitol. though like many things, it seemed too good to be true.

you couldn’t help but think about finnick, how all you needed was him right now- his laugh, the way he’d always know what to say. but you didn’t recognize him, the times you’d forget you weren’t friends, or even civil haunted you.

how did either of you forgive yourselves for letting things become this way, to have gone from a connection you were born to have built, to being unable to speak.

your mind blames him, blamed the fact that he’d changed and forgot to tell you, the fact that he’d slammed the door in your face. but your conscious thoughts blamed yourself, for not understanding what he’d gone through, for not being more patient.

and so you’d close your eyes, thinking of the times finnick had helped your mom cook fish- insisting to her that it’s impossible to burn fish. he wore a sweet smile then, his hair was shorter- he looked more comfortable in his own skin. you wondered when that had all changed, when things had been turned this way.

ׂׂૢ་༘࿐

a/n: this was just a preface! not an actual chapter. i actually hate this with my whole heart but i needed to get this out of the way so the story would make sense. trust they’ll work it out !!

masterlist

[monster-disaster]

Are you doing anything for Mer-May?🌊

It’d be fun to have a story between a mermaid reader and maybe two love interests. Being a human man and merman 👉🏻👈🏻

merman!Lauran x mermaid!Reader x human!Alex Good to know: no warnings

A/N: Well, I'm reeeeaally late with this, but I hope you will still find some joy reading it. :)

The sea shimmers under the blazing midday sun, casting a brilliant glow across the water. Vivid greens and blues sparkle under the bright rays that scatter across the waves. Gentle ripples move in a rhythmic pattern, pushing and rocking the small boat on the surface. In the distance, the land appears as a thin, delicate strip, barely visible at the edge of the horizon.

Your laughter mingles with the soothing sound of the crashing waves as you dart out of the water with a joyful shriek. Droplets of seawater glisten on you like tiny diamonds as the sun kisses your skin. Your eyes follow the familiar form of your mate, whose scales shimmer in shades of emerald and sapphire beneath the glimmering water. His movements are quick and graceful as he grabs your lover's waist with a swift motion and pulls him up to the surface. The sight of Alex's shocked expression at the sudden change of position makes you laugh even harder. The sound blends seamlessly with the waves and the cries of the seagulls above.

"Alex," Lauran grins. "It's your turn now."

The human just groans, making the other male grin.

Your gaze lingers on the pair for a long second. Lauran, your mate, is an enchanting beauty with long, blond hair cascading down his back. His straight nose, hard jawline, and perfect, sharp teeth add to his captivating allure. Beside him, Alex has a natural, boyish charm. He is leaner than the merman. His physique is shaped by living on land and spending long hours in the water. His dark hair is tousled and tangled with salt and bright sunlight. The contrast between them is striking, yet they complement each other perfectly.

"You’re too slow, Alex!" You tease the human. Your laughter rings out as you swim absently in the water. With a few flicks of your tail, you glide closer, then dart away at the last moment, always staying just out of his reach. Alex, determined, lunges after you. His movements are fast but not quite enough to catch you. Water splashes everywhere, and your giggles grow louder. Meanwhile, Lauran floats nearby with an amused smile on his lips. He swims around Alex, his cockiness is obvious as he watches the playful scene between his lovers.

The chase whirls you around the boat in a dizzying circle. As you swim, your hand skims the wet side of the vessel. The surface is cool and slick beneath your fingers. You glance over your shoulder every now and again before ducking down and appearing somewhere else.

"It's not fair, you know?" Alex pants. His breath comes in quick, heavy bursts, but he still refuses to give up. His face is flushed with effort and excitement. His shoulders are slightly red from the sun.

"Slow down, my love," Lauran cuts in, his voice soothing and amused. He swims up to Alex, gently placing his webbed hand on the back of the man's neck. The touch sends a shiver through the young man's body, and you can see goosebumps rise on his sun-kissed skin as he closes his eyes for a long, blissful moment.

"We don’t want to exhaust him too soon," you agree, joining the pair with a playful smile. Wrapping your arms around Alex’s neck, you pull him close, pressing your bodies together. You can feel his muscles relaxing and melting against you, and a contented sigh escapes your lips as you bask in the warmth radiating from him. He smells like summer and salt.

"No," Lauran hums softly into the crook of Alex’s neck. His lips graze the sensitive skin with gentle, nibbling kisses. The merman’s touch is both tender and teasing.

Taking control, you lean in to kiss your human lover. Your lips brush against his with a playful nip on the soft flesh of his lower lip. You tug it gently before allowing your tongue to explore the warmth of his mouth. He tastes like the sea and something else. Even after spending so much time in the water with you and Lauran, there is still an earthy tint about him. His presence is a grounding, connecting the world outside to your realm in the sea.

"But you are still slow," you giggle. Every word you say brushes against his slightly open lips.

"I would like to see how fast you would be with legs," he retorts before pressing against you for another searing kiss.

You spend the day in this blissful dance in the salty embrace of the sea and the caress of the burning sunlight. You chase each other through the water with kisses, warm touches, and silly jokes. Time seems to stretch as you move together in a carefree rhythm.

When the sun dips below the horizon, coloring the sky in brilliant hues of orange and pink, Lauran gently guides Alex back into the boat. His worry and protectiveness for the human are evident in every movement he makes. No matter how much time Alex spends in the water, he will never have muscles like you or Lauran. He gets tired and sore much more easily than the merfolk.

Alex, however, glances back at the pair of you with a sad look as you and your mate start to push the boat towards the land in the distance. His voice tinted with reluctance. "I don't want to go home yet. It's still early."

Lauran's eyes soften with a reassuring smile as he responds, "As you wish, my love. The day doesn’t have to end just yet."

As you push and steer the boat with Alex aboard, the three of you navigate toward your favorite spot; a secluded cove not far from the bustling beach. The cove is framed by jagged rocks, separating it from the outside world. The boat glides through the water with a gentle sway while the busy beach fades into the background. The splashes under your tail echo off the rugged walls.

Alex climbs out of the boat onto the sandy shore, leaving a wet trail behind. You and Lauran follow him, emerging from the water until your upper bodies and most of your tails are on the beach. The sand clings to your damp skin as you settle down next to Alex, feeling its warmth beneath you. You rest your head on your human's arm while Lauran curls up against him. His scales catch the last of the fading sunlight as he gazes out through the entrance of the cove.

The sounds of the bustling beach seem distant now, replaced by the gentle whispers of the evening breeze and the rhythmic lull of the waves.

"I don't want this summer to end," Alex says, breaking the silence first. A small scowl forms between his brows as he thinks about the future. The thought of you and Lauran going back to your own world when the summer ends weighs heavily on his chest.

You and the merman exchange a knowing glance, both feeling the same reluctance and worry. As autumn approaches and the temperature begins to drop, you and your kind prepare for your annual journey across the sea. It’s a cycle that repeats year after year, a rhythm of migration that’s as much a part of your life as the changing seasons.

"We could stay," you reply, your voice is heavy with the unknown. The idea of remaining in this place is both thrilling and daunting. It’s not uncommon for merfolk to make such a decision, but it is a significant one with challenges and sacrifices.

Lauran nods, his gaze softening as he looks at Alex, who is nestled comfortably between you both. "If you want us, we could stay," he says gently, offering the possibility with an open heart.

As you all lie together in the quiet cove and the stars begin to twinkle above, the lingering decision feels like a chance for something new. For something exciting.

[aangelinakii]

SEA SALT AND SCALES.

— you wanted to be where the people are, now you're there.

summary : you're a mermaid with an adoration for the human world. when a ship lingers in your waters, you go ashore to investigate. a storm attacks, and you save a man.

note : this fic contains a female reader, but almost all of my other works are gender neutral, so check out those if that's what you're looking for, or send in a request so i can cater closer to what you'd like !!

overhead, the storm was fast approaching, sky darkening, navy waves harshening. from the furious clouds, rain hammered against the water you floated in. if not for your expert tail, you would've provably been swept away in the strength of the waves and currents.

you lingered just far enough away from the vast ship to not be seen by the leg-people. father had told you they were called "humans," but your name for them made much more sense than that.

loose barrels rolled over the railing as the ship rocked in the wind and waves, some heavier kegs sending splinters into the dark air as they crashed through the wood and into the bottomless waters. little crew members, barely illuminated by the aggressively swaying lanterns, rushed about, trying to secure any more crates from escaping the decks.

with one sudden jolt of the ship, a white body toppled overboard, unable to catch themselves as they slipped through a broken gap in the railing.

despite having told yourself you wouldn't get involved in any leg-people antics as you surveyed their ship, your curiosity, along with the pull in your stomach, got the better of you.

being a mermaid, most of your days you spent swimming the caribbean waters you resided in, meeting turtles and fish as they thrummed lazily past. it was beautiful, with turquoise waters everywhere you swam, but you became accustomed to it quickly, especially when you'd been born there.

to change things up, you would swim to the surface, watching boats and ships as they sailed by, watching from afar as the children from the island city splashed in the shallows. oh, how you wished to join them on the sand, sinking your toes into its plushness; if only you had feet.

fighting against the rough waters, you zoomed forward, arms outstretched straight before you, allowing you to zip through with ease.

illuminated vaguely by roaring orange lights overhead, you caught sight of him – whoever he was – sinking quickly into the depths of no return, and you sprung into action.

in these depths, on a usual day, a body would sink much slower, but, aided by the currents and winds, he was falling at a much faster pace. you needed to move quick.

once you reached him, your arms wrapped around his torso, toned, you could tell, through his cloth tunic, and began to lug him to the surface. his body fell limp in your arms, making no effort to help on the journey up; he must've either been hit whilst still on deck, which caused him to fall overboard, or knocked out upon contact with the water. both of which seemed like bad options.

by the time you'd beached him on the shore of the island, the clouds and thunder and lightning had subsided, though the sky was still dusky in the early, early hours of the morning.

street oil lamps from the promenade above illuminated the black beach with amber, casting shadow across the man's face, which was littered with specks of sand. his breathing came out laboured – no help to the salt water he'd inevitably consumed upon his descent – but his eyelashes began to stir.

when they opened, pale blue merged with the shadows and distant lamplight, and his lips parted slightly. you'd been perched over him, edge of your fins lingering in the calming water, but as soon as those eyes met yours, you flinched away.

before either of you could take each other in, he doubled over in coughs, the burn of salt water infesting his lungs.

"a-are you okay?" you asked quietly, a crease in your brow as you looked over at him. you'd never spoken to a leg-person before, and if father ever found out, he would rage across the seven seas in search for and kill him. talk about controlling.

after a moment, once the coughing fit had ceased, the man leaned back onto the sand, eyes closing from exhaustion. a heavy sigh exhaled from his chest, any gravel from the water having been eliminated.

although you had to squint to see through the dimly-lit night, he nodded, raven shag most definitely becoming a sand magnet in the process. he gave another sigh.

"i... fell..." he hummed. his voice was soft, owning a frightened texture to the edge of it – nothing like how father had described leg-men to sound. when you glanced back up at his face, his eyes had reopened, gazing wistfully up into the constellation-speckled sky.

in one push, he was back on his behind, staring out onto the horizon with a creased brow. "my ship..."

following his gaze, you trailed along to admire the soft ripples of the ocean ahead. at the dead of night, one couldn't distinguish the sky from the sea, apart from the great moon perched in the middle of the darkness above.

"you saved me."

when you turned to look back at him as he spoke, part of you was surprised to see his eyes on you, cloudy and lost as they were. they lingered on your face for a moment, before trailing down the rest of your frame, and landing on your tail. your... tail? shit.

gasp ripping through your throat, you pulled yourself back into the shallow, allowing the sea foam to cover your scaly fins. "i shouldn't be here," you scrambled as you escaped further into the waters.

"but—"

and he was on his knees, daring to venture into the beginning of the waters, so soon after his fall.

"you saved me. can i ever see you again?"

for a moment you paused, the only thing causing you to sway being the soft lull of the waters. his eyes seemed earnest, nothing like father had said.

"i shouldn't be talking to you..." you continued, descending further into the ocean.

and you were gone, swiftly escaping the encounter, leaving the nameless man alone on the surf. but at least you were nameless to him, too.

[rollingsins]

three's a crowd, part nine

part one | part two | part three | part four | part five | part six | part seven | part eight | part nine | part ten (epilogue)

summary: you hadn’t expected this. to fall in love. with not one girl, but two. you hadn’t expected to ruin their friendship. love triangle au. 

pairing: jenna ortega x reader

warnings: smut, smut and more smut. you have been warned.

word count: 2.9k

a/n: it's horny hour. and you're all invited.

Getting from Emma’s apartment back to Jenna’s is maybe the fastest you’ve ever moved in your life. 

You stumble back into the party, swollen lips, dark eyes and pray no one notices the lipstick stains on Jenna’s jaw, or the fact you’re gripping onto her hand for dear life. 

Hunter, Emma and Johnna are still dancing, not a care in the world. Joy and Georgie are huddled in the kitchen, deep in conversation. 

You feel Jenna against your back, stomach coiling pleasantly as she presses you forward, eager to escape. 

And then you’re back out into the cool air of the night, giggling slightly in your drunken, love-spun stupor as she guides you down the stairs, hand on your hip. 

The apartment isn’t far, maybe a fifteen minute walk or so, but Jenna has no time to waste. She calls an Uber, kisses you desperately as you wait for it. 

You make out in the back seat of the car, give the driver a real show. Jenna’s hands are everywhere and nowhere at the same time. The tops of your thighs under your skirt, the back of your neck, your face, your hips. 

You feel like you’re on fire by the time you reach her apartment; her hands haven’t left your body, not once. She’s worked you up maybe more than humanly possible; your body thrums with desire and alcohol and the kind of want only she can satiate. 

She offers the driver a spare $50 in cash, looks almost sheepish as she climbs out of the car, you in tow. 

You loop your hands around her hips and push her back towards her front door, impatient. 

She fiddles with her keys, gets them stuck in the lock a few times. You’re pressed against her back, sucking on the nape of her neck, hands roaming. You feel feverish, desperate, like you might explode if she can’t open the door in the next minute. 

If she can’t, you’ll fuck her right here against the door, you decide, in your lust-filled haze. 

You slip your hands underneath her shirt, feel the warmth of her skin burn underneath you. 

And then the door clicks open, and she’s spinning around in your arms, taking back her place attached to your lips. 

You don’t make it far; you grip your hands under her thighs, lift her up and take her in your arms. It’s lewd, the way you’re kissing her. All lips and tongue, your moans entwining with hers and you carry her past the open door and swing it shut with your foot. 

The bedroom was your initial plan, but your grip on her lessens slightly, and she slips back down onto her feet. 

And then presses you against the wall. 

Picture frames clatter to the floor, but neither of you care. She’s pulling you out of your shirt, hungry mouth pressing kisses to every inch of your bare skin. Her hands work expertly on the zipper of your skirt, sending it careening to the floor. 

She ducks up to kiss your neck, sucks gently at your pulse point as her hands reach around to grip your ass. 

“I want you so bad,” She murmurs, “I’ve wanted you for so long.” 

“Me too,” You say, desperately. 

You pull at the buttons on her shirt, fiddling as you try to pry her out of it. She’s wearing a black bra, trimmed with red lace. Your mouth waters at the sight. You duck down to press your lips against her collarbone. She tastes so good, sweet, slightly meshed with the salt of her skin. Vanilla body wash, a crisp cinnamon perfume. 

You pry her out of her bra, not even stopping to take in the sight before you’re fusing your lips to her chest, and taking one of her nipples between your lips. 

She moans. Her head ducks back, giving you a prime view of the jugular of her neck. It’s too tempting to refuse. You suck gently at her nipple once, before releasing it to line hot kisses up her chest and dragging your teeth along her neck. 

You work your hands down, madly, trying to pry her out of her jeans. They don’t come off without a fight. You’re almost violent as you pull her out of them, desperate for this aggravating piece of material to be out of the way of what you want the most. She kicks them off her legs, and then is pressing you back up against the wall, slipping between your legs and pressing hard against your stomach. 

Her full weight against you, bare, warm skin drives you crazy. You suck down on her bottom lip, hands reaching down to remove the final piece of clothing between you. 

But she’s quicker. 

Her own hands reach down to draw her own underwear down her legs. She pulls away slightly, nudges her nose against yours. 

“Bedroom.” She says, eyes dark, foreboding, “Please.” 

You make it there, barely, a mess of entangled limbs and fused lips. She all but throws you back onto the bed, climbs on top of you, naked, primal look in her eyes. 

She’s nudging your legs apart with her thighs and settling between them like it’s where she belongs. 

She kisses you, once, a little soft, and then trails her lips down your body. 

Your chin, your neck, your collarbone. 

She licks both nipples, teases them gently with her tongue, hands smoothing up and down your thighs. You know what she’s doing; she’s getting you ready for her. Ready to take her mouth and her fingers but there’s no need. You’re already embarrassing and dangerously wet. 

You sigh, make a noise of vague impatience as she sucks dotingly. Your fingernails scratch the plains of her bare back, settle in her hair. You tug, only slightly, trying to nudge her down, trying to get her to where you want her. 

She smiles slightly and presses a final, loving kiss against the underside of your breast. 

“Impatient.” She chides, squeezing your thighs. Her stomach is flush against you. You can tell she can feel how excited you are. 

How much you want her. 

“You’re one to talk.” You say, voice a little gravelly, “I almost got fucked in the back of that Uber.” 

Her eyes, if possible, darken even more. 

They brim with desire.

“You’re just lucky I value my 4.8 user rating.” 

You’re too far gone for banter. You lean down, press your lips to hers once more. It hasn’t gotten old yet, the simple feeling of her mouth against yours. Like fireworks erupting in your chest. 

You could kiss her forever. You tangle your hands in her hair, moan into her mouth as you pull her closer. And then she’s pressing a final kiss to your lips and resuming her pilgrimage down your body. 

Her hands spread your thighs, her lips hot against your stomach. 

She kisses her way down, past your public bone and to the tops of your thighs. She kisses your inner thighs as you lean back, dipping your head back as her breath ghosts your entrance. 

Then she’s pressing her lips to your folds. 

You groan. You think she does, a little, too. 

Arousal spreads like wildfire through you. 

She kisses you once more, then deploys her tongue. She’s firm against you, taking an exploratory lick across your entrance, dousing herself in your arousal. 

She teases for a while. Her mouth on your entrance, your folds, your thighs. Dragging it out, like she knows the moment her tongue finds your clit you’ll topple over the edge. 

And you probably will. 

“You taste so good.” Jenna murmurs, lips pressed to your inner thigh, “You taste better than I imagined.” 

“You imagined how I tasted?” You ask, voice a little high. You’re not in control here, and your voice betrays you. 

She swipes her tongue down your length once more. You groan, settling back against the mattress. 

“I imagined everything.” She says, voice thick with lust, “How you tasted, how you looked, how you felt. What it would feel like to have your thighs around my head. To have you under me. On top of me. To have my fingers inside you. The way you’d moan, how wet you’d get. How you’d taste.”

You close your eyes, knit your brows as she dances the tip of her tongue around your entrance. 

“And it’s better. Everything is better. You’re perfect.”

And then she draws her tongue up and licks a hard stripe against your clit. 

You cry out, hands reaching out to grab her head. 

She draws slow circles around you clit, grip tightening on the undersides of your thighs. You tilt your hips to meet her mouth, writhe desperately underneath her. You’re close, pathetically close, and she must sense it - what little time she has left, because she fuses her lips around your clit and sucks down hard. 

You gasp, back arching. 

Your orgasm is violent. You moan, stars behind your eyes as she sucks you through it. She has you completely encased: her mouth traps you, her grip on your thighs keeps you close. 

You let out a string of breathy gasps, moaning her name as she helps you ride it out. She slows down, licking and sucking gently as you slump back into the mattress. Your chest heaves, the most pleasant sensation spreading through your chest and down to your toes. 

She presses a final kiss to your clit and then squeezes her thighs and rises up to meet your mouth. It's almost too much - the pleasure her kiss gives you coupled with the quiet thrum of your orgasm. You want her so badly you could explode.

And it's your turn. Your heart leaps at the thought.

But the moment you grip her hips, trying to tilt her over, she resists.  

Her fingers on your clit makes your heart jump. She nuzzles her nose against your cheek as her fingers dip down, teetering precariously close to your entrance. 

“It’s my turn.” You whine like a child, but her grip is firm on you. She presses a kiss to your lips, shaking her head. 

“I have to be inside you, baby, before I burst.” Is all she says, before she’s poising her index finger at your entrance and sinking knuckle deep inside you. You sigh, giving up far too easily. She kisses you again, furiously, letting not ten seconds pass before she’s adding another finger. 

Your belly coils. Her fingers inside you feel amazing. She stretches you out a little, fingers so long and sleek and perfect. 

She doesn’t give you long to think too hard. Her other hand presses against the side of your cheek, titling your mouth to meet hers. 

You sigh happily into her mouth. She kisses you gently, working up a steady pace as she thrusts her fingers into you. She’s soft at first, gentle. Getting you used to her. The longer you kiss her, the more noises you make, the stronger her thrusts get. She slips her tongue into your mouth, groaning as you tighten around her fingers. 

She works you back open. The steady drive of her fingers has you gasping. She’s a little rougher than you’d imagined her to be. Each gasp has her eager, desperate to make you cry out louder than the time before. 

It isn’t long before she’s fucking you so hard your nails are digging crescent moons into the skin of her back. She’s abandoned your lips in favor of pressing hot kisses to your neck. You wouldn’t be able to kiss her if you tried. You’re all quiet moans and breathy sighs as she hits all the right spots. 

“I’m going to cum,” You gasp, eyebrows knit as her fingers curl. 

She responds by leaning up to kiss you and brushing the pad of her thumb over your clit. She thrusts her fingers in once more before your tightening around them, letting out a long moan as you cum hard around her. 

You sigh.

Collapse backwards onto the bed, taking her with you. She kisses you lazily, fingers still locked inside you. You press your palms against the bare skin of her back, breaking the kiss to press your face against her neck. She presses a kiss to the top of your head and withdraws her fingers. 

You watch as she brings them to her own lips, sucking eagerly at the wetness encasing them. You kiss her once more, tasting yourself against her lips, and suddenly, your worn out body has come alive. 

“It’s my turn.” You insist this time. 

You steal one more kiss and then you’re flipping her onto her back, settling between her legs and ducking down to press a kiss to her chest. 

She’s looking down at you, dark eyes just as turned on as the moment you’d stepped foot inside the Uber. It makes you want to press her back into the mattress and fuck her until she can’t remember her own name. 

And so that’s what you do. 

You trail sloppy kisses down her body. You’re impatient, her slow assault has made you that way. You don’t bother teasing her, she’s already so wet she’s trickling her own arousal down her thighs, messy and sticky and so so perfect. 

You clean it up. Drag your tongue along the inside of her thighs, adoring the way her hands reach down to grip your hair. 

You don’t waste a drop. 

She’s sweet and bitter all at once, the taste makes your head spin. You lick it off her thighs and then turn your attention to where she needs you most. 

She’s swollen and wet and gorgeous. 

You could write poetry about the way she looks right now. Dark eyes wanton and desperate. Nipples pink and hard. Her pussy oozing, so ready for you. 

But you don’t have time for that. 

You need her. 

You move your mouth to her. Lick at her swollen cunt, dragging your tongue along her folds, through her wetness, up to her clit. 

The groan she lets out is music to your ears. 

You’re drunk; no longer from the alcohol, but from her. You’re messy, sloppy, tongue moving faster than your mind. Wanting to taste every inch of her. You settle on her clit. Lick her, suck her. You’d do anything to hear the way she’s signing and moaning, tugging so desperately at your hair as you work her through it. 

You reach up, teasing her entrance with your forefinger, too greedy to do only one. 

You want to be inside her. You want to go down on her. 

You want to have her on her back, on top of you. You want her to ride you, you want to ride her. You want her on her hands and knees, you want her on your face. You want everything all at once. 

You want to be encompassed by her. 

You settle for sucking desperately at her clit and sinking knuckle deep inside her. 

She groans. 

She’s so tight and warm around your fingers you almost groan too. You tilt your hand up, sink in even deeper. 

Her thighs tighten around your head. You lap at her clit, desperately, wanting to make her feel as good as she’d made you feel. 

You form a steady rhythm. You curl your fingers slightly, switching between lapping and sucking at her clit, her moans your reward. 

In a moment of clarity you wonder how you could ever think you belonged anywhere but here. Between her legs, drinking her in. Making her moan and cry and loving her exactly the way she deserves. 

This is where you’re supposed to be, you realize all at once. 

Your revelation is interrupted by a long moan and the feeling of her tightening around your fingers. 

She cums with a quiet gasp. You release her clit, wanting to look up at her. 

Her eyebrows are knit, her mouth open.

She's looks so pretty. So beautiful, coming undone for you.

Your fingers drive her through it. Working her up until she’s sighing, body slumping, feverish, her chest falling with a final exhale. 

You press a kiss to her inner thigh and slip out of her, kissing your way back up to her lips. 

Her eyes are still closed when you reach them. 

You kiss her slow, for a moment, wanting to savor the moment. Here you are, naked and entwined.

The fruits of your attraction finally ripened. 

She’s yours, you realize and your heart leaps at the thrill. 

She’s yours and you’re hers and nothing else matters. 

You settle down at her side, nuzzle your face into her neck. You can hear her heartbeat hammering wildly against her chest, press your fingers to her hip in an effort to soothe it. 

When she opens her eyes, you lean up and press the softest kiss to her lips.

“I think I’m falling in love with you too.” You say. 

Her earlier words sing like a chorus in the back of your mind. Her on the balcony, those beautiful brown eyes wide and mournful, when she’d told Emma she was falling in love with you. And you need her to hear it back. 

You need her to know the truth. 

She kisses you. 

Your mind drifts back to the party. You wonder if they’d noticed you’d left. You wonder if they’re talking, gossiping, about exactly what is happening right now. 

You and Jenna, naked and entwined, the way it was always meant to be. 

She kisses you once more, draws you back to her. 

“They’re going to be talking about us,” She says, as if she can read your mind. You close your eyes, let yourself take in your surroundings. 

Jenna’s body, warm underneath you. Your lips, swollen from her kisses, her taste still on your tongue. 

You don’t care. All that matters is right here in this room. 

“Let them talk,” You murmur, and then kiss your way back down her body once more. 

next part

[walpu]

while I'm waiting for my second flight this day here's some infodump about my oc, one day I'll write some reader insert based on them god bless

Their name is Andreas but they go as Andy or Rea, rarely using their full name.

He/they

They're a Stellaron hunter with a personal vendetta again the IPC and the future Elio promised them is the one where they watch the IPC crumbles by their hands

looks

drawn by wonderful @/kenwnyan ❤️

picrew 1 picrew 2 picrew 3

style

they haven't decided yet if he wants to look like a gothic young lord or like a gangster in leather so he just mixes it up

music themes

path&type

quantum destruction

lore details

He's from an ocean world, the water is everywhere but it's impossible to drink it due to the salt. The climate change also made the weather unusually hot

People on their planet can manipulate their blood flow to a certain degree

Rea's abilities were always extraordinary compared to his kind but after genetic modifications they became truly unique. Also deadly :)

They're a living voodoo doll, as long as they have at least a drop of someone's blood, they can transfer their wounds (even tge fatal ones) to this person (they can also transfer this person's wounds to themselves but they rarely do it)

Genetic modifications weren't consensual btw. They were done by a group of ipc researchers and then original goal of the project was harmless. But then the lead researcher was changed to Dottore wannabe and the gory nightmare began

The IPC didn't know about it and never checked on the project much. When Rea eventually killed everyone and run away, the truth came up, and the IPC realized how badly they've fucked up. In order to save some face, they've severely downplayed the issue, put all the blame on the research team and publicly apologized for allowing this tragedy to happen

Oh and they've announced Rea dead too. So now catching them is their priority since they're trying so hard to erase their connection to the IPC

Like it's a huuuuge secret that they are directly connected to the ipc

Andy himself became an intergalactic terrorist with only one goal: to creat as many troubles for the ipc as possible. In fact, the first time he met Aven (the first time they remember at least), he fucked over his deal

The only thing keeping them going was hatred, to the point where they've mindset was practically "as long as I can keep destroying things I hate, I'm alive. As long as I'm able to feel hatred, I exist".

At one point Nanook has turned their gaze on them. Later, when they've joined the Stellaron hunters, Elio reveals to them that their destiny was to became an emanator of destruction. They were lowkey upset they ended up settling for the Stellaron hunters instead lol

They have very shitty memory. Part of this is a trauma response but there's also the fact that they constantly shoot themselves in the head to transfer the injury to their opponent. They regenerate immediately (an important note, they would only regenerate if their voodoo doll mode is activated) but their brain still gets damaged to a degree.

personality

They're immature in a lot of ways. While certainly smart and creative, they're impatient, whiny, a bit of an airhead. They appear bubbly and playful at the first sight, can easily hide their unstable physiological state. May appear nihilistic since they trust Elio so blindly.

Lowkey very attached to the Stellaron hunters but they don't like to admit it. A type of person who would be mistyped as ENTP due to their vibes.

VERY THEATRICAL also prone to escapism.

[luc3]

Dwellings, part 2 (French Folks Traditions) : Fireplaces.

Just like the threshold, the fireplace is a place of “passage” between two worlds. It also connects the earth with the sky, via the smoke that escapes from it.

In stormy weather, fire from the sky (lightning) can be warded off by the fire in the chimney. It is even said in some places that this fire diverts thunder.

Almost everywhere in France, boxwood or other branches blessed on Palm Sunday are thrown into the flames, sometimes salt or a brand collected from the Saint John fire.

Lightning stones and protective axes are also placed there.

Before lighting a fire in a new fireplace, the Bretons throw three drops of holy water into it so that the devil does not take possession of it.

Omens ;

He or she who cannot light the fire will have difficulty getting married. In Ille-et-Vilaine, if it's a girl, then she will have a cantankerous husband, but he will be particularly cheerful if the fire catches well.

A crackling fire announces good news.

If he snores loudly, it is a sign of a visit; and if it suddenly starts to burn, it's money to come (Brittany)

Agitated flames portend a violent wind and a singing fire, announces snow.

According to Abbot Thiers, you must refuse to share your fire with your neighbors on certain days of the week, because by giving it away, you let your own happiness escape.

-

[Abstract arranged by me from Sebillot and M. C Delmas in "La France Mystérieuse" + Pic @youtu.be]

[elcpsstuff]

The Summer I Remembered You (C.F) (Part 16)

your the light in my darkness, I don’t deserve you.

A/N: Hey all! I know i’m killing y’all with this angst but trust me it will be worth it <3 alright, enjoy🫶🏻

—

Conrad POV:

From the moment we were kids, she caught my eye.

One of my first memories of the summer house was her. She came with her family for the first time at 3 years old, and even though it’s vague I remember it. Her.

Something about her hair, her eyes, those dark eyes I could stare into all day. Some people say blue eyes are alluring, and they might be, but dark eyes drive me crazy. Hers especially.

The true beginning of our friendship was when she was 10, I was 11. We had all gone to the boardwalk that day and I came back from ring toss with Jere to see yn staring off into space. I then realized she wasn’t staring off into space, it was someone.

Belly, Laurel, and my Mom. All posing in this cardboard frame you put your head in. It occurred to me there was only 3 spots, and yn was the odd one out. I knew she always felt left out, different. When your parents die like that, it’s hard not to.

I heard her sniffle and that’s when I walked over to her and placed my hand on her back. She turned around and jumped a little. She was always really jumpy.

“Conrad- what are you doing?”

I furrow my eyebrows, “What do you mean?”

“I thought you were at ringtoss.”

“Me and Jere- we finished.”

“Oh.” She whispers and she begins to shy away from me, right before I grab her wrist.

“Wanna play a game?” A slight smile escapes my mouth when I see her eyes widen. She nods and we began to walk over to the carnival games, except my hand never left hers.

That day, we played for hours. We played for so long we lost track of time, and when Susannah and Laurel scolded us for running off from the group, it was okay because I knew I made her happy.

That was just the start.

After that day, we were inseparable. We did everything together and everywhere. We would surf for hours and eventually just float on the water talking about our lives.

“You should come boating with me and Jere tomorrow. My dad would be fine with it.” I said as the water drowned my feet. The salt got in my eyes occasionally.

She laughed, a beautiful and honest laugh. “I’m kinda scared of boating.”

I sat up on my board and steadied myself, making sure not to fall. “I’m sorry, what? You never told me that!” She sits up as well and shrugs her shoulders a little bit. “It’s never something i’ve really thought about, and it’s really embarrassing considering we stay here all summer.”

I paddle closer to her and touch her board, keeping me at arms length so I could get closer to her. “I could teach you, you know?”

“I don’t know..”

“Think about it, we’d have so much fun. Besides, i’m already your tutor for everything else.”

She splashed me with water and the salt burned my eyes, but It didn’t matter because as soon as I gained vision again I was tackling her in the water.

It was true, though. I really did tutor her through everything. Like literally almost every subject.

One summer, going into her sophomore year she had to do summer school. She hated it, like she hated a lot of work. She practically forced me to stay inside, but I would have done it anyways.

“I don’t get it.” yn digs her head into her hands and aggressively groans. I chuckled a little and gently grabbed her hands, making her face me.

“It just takes practice.”

She huffed at me, “I’m so dumb.”

“Hey, no your not.”

“I try and get it, but I just suck at math. Geometry is so hard.”

A smirk escapes my lips, “Well, that is why i’m here.” My hand inched closer to her and our fingertips grazed each others, but we never held hands. That night I stayed up with her until 1am to finish her homework. I even made us coffee.

But I wasn’t just there for her, she was there for me. When I bled, she bled.

We had only ever gotten into one fight, and that was years ago, summers ago. Me, Belly, yn, Jere, and Steven had all gone to the mall and Belly, only being 11 needed supervision. Yn said she would watch her and we would all meet back at the foot court in 1 hour.

1 hour passed, and they didn’t come back.

I blamed myself, after the fact because yn didn’t have a phone to tell me anything, but I was worried sick. If something had happened to her- them, I don’t know what I’d had done. I would’ve gotten in a shit ton of trouble too.

When I couldn’t find them, I made my way back to the food court only to see yn and Belly at our table. Anger and relief filled my lungs and took over my body all at once.

“Where were you guys?!” I raise my voice, startling Belly a little bit. She hide behind yn and Jeremiah even looked startled.

“Con—”

“Don’t, yn.” I shake my head, “You were supposed to come back here in an hour. We all trusted you with Belly, and I thought something had happened to you guys! What the hell were you thinking?!”

Her face was something I never forget, the sheer and utter look of embarrassment. She looked scared.

Steven and Jeremiah stayed silent, obviously not wanting to interact and get in the middle.

“I’m- i’m sorry..” She whimpered. My heart was breaking

“We’re leaving. Let’s go.” I groan and grab the bag me and the boys got with our prizes from the arcade. No one said anything, and I stole glances at yn but she never looked my way.

Later that night, I felt like utter shit. I wanted to apologize, but how? We’ve never fought before, and it was an unfamiliar feeling. I knew I was too harsh, the truth was I don’t know what I would’ve done if something happened to her.

I knocked on her door that night. I never knocked, but now I was. There was no answer so I made the decision to open the door anyway.

She was laying on her bed, staring up at the ceiling. A smile crept up on my face without realizing it. She was always so deep in thought, so deep in life. That’s something we always shared. It bonded us.

“Mind if I come in?”

“I guess.” She mumbled against her pillow. I closed the door and sat on the edge of the bed. There were so many things I wanted to say. I felt shitty.

“I’m really sorry about today..” When she didn’t say anything, I titled her head to make sure she was looking at me. “yn, I’m serious. If something would’ve happened to you and Belly—”

“I know. It’s just weird..”

I raise an eyebrow at her statement because I really don’t know what she means. “What’s weird?”

She shrugs, “I don’t know, I mean.. we’re friends and all but—”

“Your not just my friend, your my best friend, yn.”

“Okay, so you yelling at me was kinda weird.” Even in the dark, I noticed her cheeks light up. A small grin appeared on my face and I crept in bed next to her.

“Don’t be mad.”

“I’m not!”

“Mhm, baby.”

A groan slips from her mouth as she wacks me with her pillow, “I am not a baby! Only a year younger than you, you know.”

“You aren’t a teenager, yet. Like me.”

“Shut up, you dork.”

The rest of the night was spent talking and laughing, and we never discussed that day again. Everything went back to normal.

Now, things will never be the same.

—

“You ladies get serve first.” The ref looked at me and Frankie and I nodded. This game was important. Really important and if we wanted to beat Taylor and Belly, we had to win this.

Conrad’s eyes burned into my back, I didn’t even have to look to know what he’s doing. Out of the corner of my eye was Nicole handing him a glass of water. Typical.

The game was intense, but we ended up winning by a landslide. Throughout the game I heard Conrad say my name and cheer me on but I couldn’t tell if it was one of his mind games.

Belly clapped but I could tell it was getting to her. The competition. We had always been on the same team and we both had a point to prove. We both wanted to win but only one team could. It had to be me.

After a couple of rounds Belly was on again, and Jeremiah was looking at her intensely, this confused yet admirable look.

I walked closer to him and put my hand on his shoulder, making him face me. “Hey, yn.”

“What’s got you so stressed?” I motion to Belly playing and he shakes his head. “Oh come on, you don’t get to badger me about Conrad and then think nothing else comes out of it.”

“I don’t know, I mean, we kissed and all-”

“I’m sorry, huh?” Jeremiah’s face turned red and I couldn’t believe my own eyes. “I’m gonna take a guess and hope it’s not Conrad your talking about?”

He flicks me on the forehead before shaking his head, “Yeah, you idiot. I kissed Conrad.”

“Ew—”

“Okay i’m being serious!”

“Okay okay,” I sigh, “So you and Belly kissed? When? Like was it yesterday or were you alone—”

“We were in the pool a couple of nights ago and I kinda confessed to her.” He pauses but I nudge his shoulder because I know he has more to say, “Then we were kissing but— I just don’t know.”

I raise an eyebrow at him, “Shouldn’t this be good?” And It should be. There was always a vibe between them that I couldn’t ignore. Nobody could.

“It should be, if she didn’t still have feelings for Conrad.” The words took me by surprise even though I shouldn’t be. Belly loved him. I could never really tell if he felt the same way because I never brought it up. It was never something I wanted to know because I think it would hurt me too much.

Me and Jeremiah are interrupted by Taylor yelling, “Hello! Can you sub?”

I look at Jeremiah and shrug before he takes Taylor’s jersey. Belly and Jeremiah playing volleyball was never something I imagined. Jeremiah wasn’t that good but he kept up with a cranky, crazy, volleyball obsessed Belly.

Belly and Jeremiah won their round and when it was me and Frankies turn, my throat throbbed. I was way more nervous then I should have been.

“Hey, why are you freaking out?” Frankie tapped my shoulder and I shook my head. I was in my own thoughts.

“I’m fine.”

“No, your not.”

“I really am.”

In reality I don’t think I was because I felt my hands begin to shake. This desire to win had become bigger than ever. It wasn’t just about volleyball, it was more.

I had to prove myself, nothing else mattered.

The nerves didn’t get better when the game started but I was able to manage it for a while. We were winning at first but I could get the thought out of my head.

Belly hates you. Laurels fed up with you. Something is wrong with Susannah this summer. Conrad is so fucking complicated but I still love him. Everything—

“Yn!”

The ball comes flying to us and before I can respond to the voice, the ball falls straight in front of us.

“What’s going on with you?” Frankie comes close to me but I shake my head. I don’t know what was wrong with me. This never happens, ever. I never let the pressure get to me. I looked at the scoreboard and it was 19-15. Two more points and we were out.

“I can’t play.”

“Yes you can, yn—”

“No, I can’t.”

Frankie’s face changes from confused to content and she grabs ahold of her knee. “Ah, shit. I think I might have slammed it on the way down. I’m still not fully healed from the injury this season.”

“We can drop out?”

“Don’t be ridiculous, yn. Someone else will sub in.” And when she gestures towards the only person who can sub in, my heart drops.

Conrad looks up at us and Frankie motions him to come on the court. Our timeout was ending soon so I could exactly run. I would embarrass Susannah and make everything more shitty. What if Conrad was still angry about before? I had every right to be angry but what if he was for some reason? What if—

“Hey, hey.” I felt a hand on my cheek and when I turned around I saw Conrad. My body turned to flames but then a calm wave washed over me. He always left such a strange feeling in my stomach.

“Conrad—”

“It’s fine. We’re fine.” It’s fine. We’re fine.

Those words stuck with me as I gulped the fire in my body down.

I thought playing with Conrad would only worsen everything I was feeling, but weirdly, I was fine. We were fine. We ended up tying the match 20-20 and before the last point Conrad cupped my face and said, “This is ours, okay?”

It was no secret I used to teach Conrad how to play volleyball. Conrad wasn’t bad at anything, that was for sure but when we were younger I was convinced I would teach him something like he taught me things.

Looking back at it, he knew how to do all of these things, but he pretended for me. Classic Conrad.

We ended up winning the point when Conrad had a really good hit. Without thinking I ran into his arms and squeezed him tight. He didn’t hesitate to embrace me back.

“Told you.” I didn’t have to look to know he was smirking.

“Shut up, Connie.”

Connie.

“Connie now, huh?”

Now, it was time to face Jeremiah and Belly. Jeremiah had improved in their recent games, but I still felt confidant. Conrad was on his game.

The game was tied the whole time, each team going back and fourth. It’s almost surreal that in the final we’re the people who have been such an enigma to me. Jeremiah and his confusing feelings for Belly. Belly the same to Jeremiah, even though she gets mad at me for Conrad. I know she does.

Frankie, Taylor, Shayla, and Steven were all cheering on the sidelines and my energy level had never been this high. My digs were great, Conrad’s serves and hits were on point, everything was great.

it was 20-19 and we were up. Just one more point and all of this would be over.

Conrad gave me his charming smile before going back to the service line, and I knew we would be alright.

And we were.

We won the point and before I could react Conrad hoisted me up into his arms, and nothing else mattered. Win or lose, (even though we very much won) this was perfect, this moment.

Grow the hell up yn, there’s more going on then your petty feelings for me.

Except for that.

Once Conrad lowered me, Susannah and Laurel came over with the trophy, and Susannah was beaming. She even winked at me before handing me the trophy.

“You guys were amazing! You’ve always been the best team, you know.” I blushed at her words and Conrad hugged my shoulders before saying, “I knew that.”

Susannah then looked pleadingly at Conrad, studying his face. Eventually, she said “Well, you haven’t asked her yet?”

Conrad’s face dropped and I cleared my throat. “What do you mean?”

“Oh, well, I thought Conrad might ask you to the deb ball since you haven’t found anyone to go with? Besides, Conrad would do anything for you—”

“Oh.” I whisper.

I gently pushed Conrad away and my throat felt like it was closing. I don’t know what came over me but it was strong enough to push Conrad Fisher away from me.

“I- we should probably get going.”

“Wait—”

Before he could finish I was rushing away. Anywhere but there. Unfortunately Conrad had long legs and was so fast, which was something I used to admire but not anymore. Not in this moment. His hand wrapped around mine which prevented me from moving.

“Hey- wait, did I do something?”

I scoff and face him, “Do something? Are you serious?” I noticed his Adam’s apple bob up and down. “If i’m not mistaken my petty feelings for you get in the way of everything.”

“No, no. They don’t. I’m sorry yn.”

“Are you? Because it seems like you’ve been saying a lot of shit to me lately.”

“It’s because I care too goddamn much, okay?!”

“So because you care, you scream in my face and make me feel worthless? Is this your way of asking me to the deb ball?”

“I- I was gonna ask you, I just—”

“No, no. I get it. Nicole wouldn’t really like that, would she?”

“Are you serious?”

“You know, I am. I’m not playing your fucking games anymore Conrad. Whatever this is, or was,” I motion between him and me, “It’s done. Please, just stop. Okay? Your causing me unnecessary pain I wish I didn’t have.”

He didn’t say anything and I didn’t want him to. I walked off without saying anything else.

—

A/N: IM SORRRRRY GUYS! Only 3-4 more chapters left, I can’t believe it. This story has developed sooo much and i’m gonna be so sad to see it go.

tag list: @kkrenae @callsignwidow @drikawinchester @johannelis2302nely @allnrsnz @galaxy13sworld @paytonloiselle @i-think-you-are-gr8 @imaspecialpersonwhoneedshelp @awatt31 @user0440822 @jackierose902109

[aelinschild]

Paradigm; side by side

˙✧˖ March 5th: Surprise

Main Masterlist | Paradigm; side by side Masterlist |

SYNOPSIS: But shame appeared like a monster at his feet; he did not stop at noticing. WORDCOUNT: 742 WARNINGS: Cursing, horny Rowan again (This is a reoccurring theme)

Huge thank you to @throneofglassmicrofics for organizing! Make sure to check out other works over on their account!

He was sick. 

It dripped from the cracked open well of his mind. This carnal infatuation. Two fucking days at sea only chafed his hands further. Drove him to the brink of insanity with nothing but luminosity in its reach. Futile, his attempt. 

A near decade of solitude had changed him. Or maybe it was the woman across the hall.

Somehow his humanity had been stripped from being, flayed off bone like parchment. More animal than man, abruptly changing his being in the presence of another. Huffing, he drove the shovel into sun-warmed earth again. Splitting callouses on the wooden handle and welcoming the burn of slivers. It was a welcomed reprieve – the physical pain – to the dwelling in between cerebral tissues. 

In the swirl of his coffee, the drip of shaving cream as it swirled down the drain, even the goddamn seafoam teased him. Staring into them, eyes tracing over the natural patterns, before shifting and curling. Volume and peaks. He would catch a line – trace it as it flowed, morphed, connecting at an apex, rising into a cinch. He saw her everywhere. 

A part of him knew this compulsion was natural. That isolation crafts a certain brand of savagery. Hardly any shame in noticing. 

But shame appeared like a monster at his feet; he did not stop at noticing. 

Thud, thud, thud. 

It had been like holding a blessing, warming him through all atrophy. Skin, bloody and bruised, had all but screamed at him to touch. Bandage, or press into. Delicately trace serrated hide, peel back coverings. He still felt her weight in his hands. Hadn't fallen asleep until the weight of quilted blankets held a candle to her. 

Dirt fell from the edges of the hole, tumbling back in. Progress slipping away. Less so than if he had chosen to dig through sand. Its richness packed it together, congealing the salt water with decay as it sopped through the distance. He would need to dig deeper for any progress to be made today. 

It was an escape, an out. This craft he had taken up for the day. I need to build… head heavy and tongue laden. She had only nodded, eyes skirting his own, before tucking back into the sunroom. The gossamer skirt flowed along the worn floorboards. He hoped it would catch, shred the entire thing from her body. He would not be at fault for the natural world's intentions. But he felt sick for wanting them. 

-

He was wearing the shirt today. 

But it had been removed not too long ago, tossed into tall grass and nestled into Gaia’s clutches. The weight of it along sun-warmed flesh had been oppressive. Settling on him like tar, sticky and irremovable. It hadn't mattered anyway. 

The night had been so quiet. He had woken up thrice; checked her room once to make sure she hadn't run off in the night. The feeling had wormed around his mind, you scared her. Brutish and nasty in all lonesome glory when he towered over her. Pulse racing with fear, expelled into a rage. But she had been there. Nestled between blankets he had chosen. Cooled from windows cast open that he had built. Sheltered in the small canopy bed – a family heirloom. There was a strange sense of pride when he truly took in the sight of it all. 

That, and some darker yearning for permanence. 

Lingering on the thoughts would have led nowhere good, and so Rowan has risen before the sun to set off on foot towards the forest nearby. Acres of land penned in eternal ink in his mind's eye had led him to the collection of deadfall. Most rotted with sickness meant that the early cerebration had stalled in its rampage. A beast calmed, eye shutting with content and thumping back to its cavern. 

Eventually, enough solid elm was collected, and the walk back to Aelin- the house, was in part. 

To this moment, torrid heat lashing down on him as he stood unmovable. A sculpted portrayal of the lover scorned. Waiting for the moment when disdain, apathy, fuck, even curiosity morphed into something more. Until then, he would burn. Sun rays or gold-lined irises. It made no difference. 

Rowan watched Aelin rouse from bed, his spot in the tall grass a mighty vantage point to the moment between vulnerability and its nemesis. Like a predator stalking his prey, he did not move until she disappeared from sight.

Taglist: @mariaofdoranelle , @leiawritesstories , @renxzs

[mad-c1oud]

i love your essay responses hmmm prompt : tell us more details about how slime or slime hybrids work to you i love your portrayal of it !

ANON LETS FUCKIN GOOOOO (full essay under the cut)

*cracks my knuckles* so, q!charlie is a freshwater slime

i mentioned this briefly in immi when charlie was making an offhand comment to étoiles during bathroom cleanup #1, about shriveling up like a raisin if you get him near salt. it had been meant as a joke at the time but there is some truth to it. charlie and salt aren't really friends

i like to think all slimes have some "biological base" that determiners their homes/habitats/groups. Like how some critters are better suited for hot vs cold environments. Slimes function the same way but the emphasis is on water. The two main differences are freshwater slimes and saltwater slimes. there are more niche subgroups under that but the divide that truly matters is this one.

Saltwater slimes are based in the ocean and attached biomes, like (salt) marshes and some hot springs, salt lakes, and estuaries. Even a few select caves depending on salt deposits that form. think of them like saltwater fish wise. salt slimes that live in separate biomes can still mix and merge due to their similar biology. they're compatible basically. I haven't given as much thought as freshwater unfortunately but thry are creatures :3. They are a little more cool color, like a turquoise green. their colors can vary

freshwater are more common even when oceans make up more of the earth, but since they only surface in ocean-adjacent biomes, it's a little more rare to see them. Freshwater are everywhere since they thrive in every other water biomes that isn't freezing cold. Rivers, swamps, lakes, ponds, caves. you name it. They tend to split off into their little subgroups depending on aye where they were 'created' or lived and adapted, but like with salt, they are compatible and mixable with any other freshwater slimes. they are a brighter, more yellow green in color with several variations.

Salt and fresh cannot "mix", ever. they are not compatible. This is not a sex thing or a behavior thing, they are literally unable to physically mix due to their different biologies. Salt threatens to draw water from fresh and fresh threatens to bloat salt. Think of saltwater fish unable to live in freshwater, it's the same for slimes and their habitats and who they can merge with. osmotic stress kinda thing. That's what charlie meant by the salt affecting his slime and how he functioned.

Charlie is particular is freshwater, specifically of the cave variety. I make his backstory rlly sad and emphasis his time in the caves, crowded and cramped. He likes cold, damp environments because of where he was raised, but when he escaped his family he learned to love the open air too, particularly small ponds and anything a little cool. still, he retreats to the depths at times, unable to squash the instincts. running away to the cave after the election dinner for example. He fell in love with the cavern and home CodaFlippa came from though it was just another facade, a mockery of his old home.

Eggxile is a small island situation, so charlie has surrounded himself in a saltwater biome. further isolating himself since he could never truly fit in with any nearby slimes if there were any. :)

Charlie likes colder bodies of water due to the cave aspect of his biology and his skin is cold to the touch. He'll get more melty the hotter it gets and has to avoid hot springs or he will dissolve :(

Fresh slimes when exposed to saltwater will lose elasticity and shrink some, they also get "sea sick" if left in too long hehe. Salt slimes when exposed to freshwater will bloat and lose structure, and will similarly get sick. think hyper- and hypotension. Neither will necessarily die if left in either environment for a while, but they will continue to deteriorate if actively submerged nd yeah, will eventually "suffocate or drown". It's not pleasant and the reason why they have naturally become two separate groups.

all this makes relationships fun too, like imagining a friendship between him and foolish who I hc as thriving in saltwater oceans. they make it work and use it to annoy each other.

IAHHHHHHHHHH I HAVE SOOOOO MANY THOUGHTS!!!!!!!!!!!!!! SAVE MEEE im stopping here before i end up spoiling something i don't even realize lmao

if you made it this far hi :3, thank you for listening. feel free to yell into my inbox if you have questions or other ideas!!! I love world building lmao

[aestheticpearl]

— 𝐜𝐮𝐩𝐢𝐝

[𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫] lasko moore

“you’re doing it again” you say glancing over to where lasko is sitting and staring at you with the biggest heart eyes you’ve ever seen. he turns bright red once he realizes that’s he’s been caught and starts trying to stutter out an excuse.

“do-doing w-what?” he finally manages to get out after struggling to find the right words.

“looking at me with those eyes” you smile at him.

“w-what eyes?” lasko lets out a nervous laugh.

you stand and walk over to sit with him on the couch, making sure to sit very close.

“the ‘i’m so in love with you’ eyes” you say kissing his flushed cheek gently. lasko feels dopey with you and can’t help but act that way, you don’t mind though clearly since it makes you laugh; he loves making you laugh.

“i can’t help it” he says finally facing you. his eyes widen when he realizes how close you are to his face. “h-hi”

“i love when you do that” you grin.

“love when i do w-what?” lasko asks while glancing to the side for no particular reason .

“when i get really close to your face like this you always go ‘hi’ and it’s honestly one of my favorite things to do to you cause i love the reaction you give”

“o-oh, i didn’t realize i did that” you nod.

“i love it” you say before leaning in to kiss him.

lasko melts into your lips, he has always though that your lips taste heavenly and soft— something like cotton candy and salt water taffy. he wonders if you’re aware of how much your kiss effects him, not in a dirty way just in a ‘wow i’m so in love with them and how they kiss me’ way.

lasko pulls away to hold your face in place as he drinks in your features before deciding to smoother you in kisses which makes you giggle at the sudden action.

“ahh i’m being attacked” you laugh though you also don’t do anything to stop said attacks.

“i’m just loving you” he says before place a final cheek on your cheek with a big ‘mwah’ sound to follow it. “i can’t look at you or kiss you now? let me love you sweetie”

“i do let you love me” you laugh as you place your hands over his. lasko’s hands have always been so warm and yours always seem to be cold but he doesn’t seem to mind. he’s always happy to hold them. “you’re being silly”

“you don’t like silly me?”

“i love silly you” you remove his hands from you face as you pull him in to plant a kiss on his nose. “you love silly me?”

“of course—” lasko’s statement is quickly cut off as your freezing hands find their way under his shirt. “ah—ah hey y-you k-k-know i’m tic-ticklish there!” he says while squirming away from your touch.

you can’t hold in your laughter at the sight of him wiggling around on the couch trying to avoid the cold touch.

“you can’t escape the cold breeze boy, i’m everywhere”

after almost five minutes of squirming around on the couch and almost falling off twice, lasko finally manages to grab your hands and stop your tickle attack on him. in the end he’s panting and holding onto your hands tightly in case you decide to go for it again.

“alright i’m done i promise” you smile and he weakly smiles back and sighs in relief.

“oh thank goodness” he lets go of your hands and you lay back on the couch to wave him over. he lays against you and you pet his head to calm him. “i can hear my heartbeat in my ears.”

“i really got you going huh?” you smile.

“definitely my work out for the week” you laugh again before kissing his head.

“i love you breeze boy”

“i love you too sweetie”

please reblog to show support ✧·˚ ༘ * ༄

i am so in love with how the lay out for this song turned out oml, requested by @morgansplace

.love always <3 pearl

.masterlist

[ashs-random-writing]

What if! Anthropophobia, but switched

Second part of my what-if series-feel free to suggest whatifs to other stories I’ve written. Things like “what if [other character] was in this situation in [story]”

Ao3

-

Every human knew the tales and legends of the mighty beasts that roamed the oceans, luring sailors closer and then murdering them in a violent rage.

As it turned out, Sirens also knew about humans. The tiny creatures that showed up everywhere with their uncanny little faces, and tiny eyes, and their general unsettling nature. If only anthropophobia was less common.

Anthropophobia- the fear of humans.

(Except this time, the characters are switched- go read the original in my one shots!)

—

When Remus had been sentenced to death for an attempted assassination of the king (who had totally deserved it), he’d expected a quick, boring death. But, rather excitingly, he’d been forced into, and had his wrists tied down to, a small rowboat.

It was clear what their plan was. Even as Remus’s thoughts turned bloody and violent when he thought about what was in store for him, he couldn’t help the excitement creeping up in him. He’d never seen a siren up close, as evidenced by the fact that he was still alive and not a splatter of blood and guts somewhere at sea

It was clear they wanted one of the giant beasts to do their dirty work, and Remus wanted to know how it would feel to be crushed under a siren’s giant hand. He didn’t want to die , of course, but he was immensely curious about the method of death.

His chest was fluttering with a conflicting mess of fear and excitement as the rowboat drifted out further to sea. He didn’t want to die, he didn’t particularly want to be violently murdered by a giant siren, but he couldn’t help but think about how interesting it would feel to have his guts splatter out.

He waited on the boat as it slowly drifted away from land. It had been at least an hour, maybe three. He wasn’t too sure. They hadn’t bothered putting food in the boat with him, and even if they had, he wouldn’t have been able to reach it with his wrists tied down.

He could lift his arms, only enough to bend his arms into a right angle. They didn’t want him escaping his punishment.

He started to wonder. If a siren didn’t find him, would he starve to death? Would his boat capsize and he drown? Which would hurt more?

Would the salt water quickly invade his lungs, burning them and restricting his breathing, or would he suffer the slower death of having his stomach slowly shrinking until his body started eating itself in desperation. Starving would surely go on longer, but maybe drowning would be more painful.

He wouldn’t know. He’d never drowned or starved before, evident the same way it was evident that he’d never seen a siren up close. The sun was going down, and he stared straight at it, uncaring of the way it burned his eyes.

He… he didn’t want to be here. He didn’t want to be sat tied to a boat and waiting to die, waiting to see how he got killed.

In a moment that fluctuated between lucky and unlucky, it seemed like his fate was decided at last. By this time the moon was almost directly overhead, and the water started rippling, before a large shape broke through.

He knew what it was immediately, from the humanoid shape (though, it was about 15 times his height), and strange glowing markings that were scattered around its body

It hadn’t even sung. He’d found his way to a siren without it even singing.

How fortunate was he, to find something this rare so close to his date of death, he thought to himself, not even sure if he was joking

It stared at him with infinitely dark eyes, and a slightly illuminated face. By god, how much purple was this thing covered in?

It was staring down at him, and he didn’t know when to expect death. He was sure, from the few people who had survived or witnessed a siren attack, that he was supposed to be killed immediately.

This siren obviously didn’t get the memo. Here it was, just staring down at him. Suddenly, a second pair of eyes opened to also stare at him. Since when did sirens have four eyes?

Well, he supposed that most people died instantly when faced with a Siren, instead of having a silent stare-off, so he figured most people had never seen their extra eyes.

Remus wondered for an agonising moment if it really was going to be the hunger that killed him. The siren was taking so long to do anything that it might as well.

Suddenly, his boat was lifted out of the water, with painstaking carefulness.

He was starting to panic now, and he tried to struggle against his restraints (to do what? He couldn’t swim, and even if he could, he couldn’t outswim a giant siren).

It brought a clawed hand closer to him, extremely slowly, and with two fingers held him still, despite his attempts to struggle. It was making noises, not the singing or screeching that was customary for how meeting sirens usually went

With the other clawed fingers, it began sawing at the ropes that bound him to this stupid boat. His restraints snapped, and he could finally move his arms. The rest of his body was not the same, still held by the siren

He struggled in the grip, but it just kept making noises, and it readjusted its grip, dropping his boat as it did so

It began swimming, keeping him out of the water, but jostling him a fair amount. He kinda liked the way his heart was racing in fear and uncertainty

They got to the entrance of a cave that was half underwater, and he was lifted up to the dry side, while the siren swam through the water. He didn’t know exactly what was going on, but he was thinking about several possibilities

Maybe he’d be killed in a more painful, slower way. Maybe it wanted to keep him. Maybe it was just going somewhere more enclosed to crush him.

He didn’t know. His heart was beating loud in his ears. He was enjoying the rush, but he wasn’t enjoying the uncertainty.

The cave opened up, expanding both high above water, and very deep below.

He was placed on a ledge next to the water, and the siren immediately started using those razor sharp claws to carve something into the rock surrounding him, and he watched a clear magical dome enclose him.

Keeping him, then.

His heart was still beating and his adrenaline was racing. He loved it.

The siren was once again watching him with the same interest as a kid that had succeeded in trapping a spider in a jar. He stared back, on the same vein, like a jarred spider.

He wondered what it wanted from him. He watched it for a few minutes, even after it broke its gaze away from him and towards the other things in the cave, seeming to be looking for something.

He watched in some kind of fascination. Was this what sirens did when they weren’t out killing people? It was weird that he was computing this as normal, sirens usually killed any human that they saw, with loud screeching and violence

This one was acting more like a person than a murderous beast. He could almost laugh.

They sent him out here so he’d get killed without them getting their precious hands dirty. Here he was, probably one of the only people in the world who hadn’t been immediately killed.

How weird. He didn’t think most people had ever seen sirens acting like this. He grinned. He figured this might be fun, though his heart threatened to burst with every time the siren looked at him

It was exhilarating. He didn’t know what would happen, if he would die, if he’d be here forever, if he’d be a pet, or what. He almost didn’t want to know

He loved the surprise, the way it shocked him and got his adrenaline pumping. He had never felt like this before. It ducked under water and he was notified by a splash of its tail that it had left the cave

“Not found what you’re looking for?” He joked to the empty cave, sitting down leisurely

It was dark in the cave, save for various strange luminous objects and the slightest of moonlight that was lighting up the rocky walls from above. He didn’t mind, he liked the dark

He jumped up and inspected the clear barrier that was surrounding him. Could he get out if he wanted to?

It rippled when he touched it, but it was very clearly still solid. He made it ripple over and over as he waited for his giant captor to return.

It returned about an hour later, holding various things. It placed several plants in the dome with him, and Remus could just imagine it stretching onto land to try to grab these specific plants. They didn’t really grow on beaches.

Most things didn’t grow on beaches.

It placed some big rocks/boulders in with him, which he attempted to climb up

It looked down at him again. What was it thinking?

—

Virgil, unlike most other sirens, didn’t mind humans. Sure, they tended to show up at the randomest times, and they usually freaked a lot of people out, but he was a firm believer of “ they’re more scared of you than you are of them ”

Humans were tiny, fragile creatures, and, though they often got close to sirens, he wasn’t too sure they meant to. He doubted that they could see sirens properly, with the extreme difference in size, and the fact they only had two eyes.

Until a siren moved, humans probably wouldn’t notice them. With only two eyes, they probably couldn’t see detail. But, as soon as they saw a siren, he noticed, they’d either freeze up or attempt to get away.

Of course, most people would have already started freaking out by that point, and the humans would be dead.

He felt a bit bad for them. Humans were just small and a bit unsettling, and the little creatures shouldn’t have to die for that.

They probably didn’t even know what was going on when they found a siren.

He didn’t see humans that often, as he tended to go out at night, and humans were usually diurnal, but as he went outside this time, there was a human on a little boat. It was almost still, and he opened his secondary eyes to see clearly. It had wide eyes, but it didn’t seem able to move its arms.

He talked to himself a little as he carefully lifted the boat closer to his face, to see what was restricting it.

Oh, it had gotten tangled in some rope. How unfortunate, he thought sympathetically, before very slowly bringing his hand closer

He was careful not to startle it, but it started thrashing around against the rope that had gotten tangled around its arms. He frowned

“It’s okay, little guy, I’m not gonna hurt you,” he murmured

He very, very carefully held it still, extremely aware of its fragility, and, as quickly as he could, he broke the tangled ropes.

It moved its tiny little arms, something that it obviously couldn’t do beforehand. He looked at it for a few moments

Humans were usually in groups of two, especially on boats. This one was all alone, and tangled up in rope. As silly as it was, he didn’t trust its survival instincts in the wild

He knew it was just a human, that humans died all the time, but he didn’t want this one to be the same.

He put down the boat, still very carefully holding his little human. He swam home, very carefully keeping it above water, until he got inside. He placed it on a medium sized ledge, and carved some runes to keep it safe

It stared at him with that uncanny little face. Humans, strangely, looked somewhat similar to sirens, though tiny and being land animals, with only two eyes and no claws, and subpar swimming skills.

It was strange that they looked similar, even with the obvious differences between the two species. And, with humans being just normal animals, and sirens having slight magical abilities. Nothing much, just enough to charge runes.

He looked around his cave for something that could make the little human comfortable. Humans lived usually away from the ocean, so he didn’t really know their habitats, but he could make somewhat of a guess.

He hastily left the cave, to gather some land plants. His human was messing with the barrier when he came back, and it stared at him, with those little wide eyes

He carefully placed the plants, and a few small pebbles in there with it, watching it immediately start climbing the stones. He didn’t really get why everyone was so scared of them

Virgil sat there and watched it for a while as it organised the plants, and attempted to move some of the pebbles (Virgil reached in to help with some of those, but it scrambled back a few steps, going still- Virgil felt a bit bad for scaring it)

He started thinking. Humans ate a lot of things, but what he knew for sure was fish. The really small ones. They usually put them over fire, because humans were weird. He waited for a few moments, before turning around to go gather fish to feed his new pet

Ugh, his friends were gonna absolutely hate that he had a pet human. Most of them were anthropophobic.

He caught a few little fish and, after a single moment of deliberation, decided he should cook it for the human.

As he had already been thinking, he wasn’t too sure about the human’s survival skills. And so, he didn’t really want it close to fire.

Because the cave wasn’t really the place for fire, he had to use a rune to ignite it. Soon, he had cooked the food for the human, who ate it ravenously. He began to wonder how long it had been stuck in that boat.

The boat seemed incomplete, now that he thought about it. Humans usually had things on boats to help them move it around. This didn’t. How long had his human been drifting around?

Soon, he went beneath the water to sleep. He’d been above water a lot today, he noted, before slipping into a deep-ish sleep.

When he woke up, the sky was a pinkish orange colour, signifying that he’d slept for a few hours at least, considering it was sundown now. Then again, it was nearing mid winter, so the night was pretty much longer than the day

He sat with his thoughts for a few moments, before remembering his new pet. It needed a name.

He emerged to the top part of the cave, and looked at the little human, who had burrowed into a bush.

He quietly sung to himself as he thought, organising the shelves above water.

When he turned back around, his human had gotten about as close to the barrier as it could, staring at him with intensity.

He paused, singing slowly trailing off.

He was pretty sure that was weird.

It blinked at him, once the cave had gotten mostly silent, and then walked to another part of the enclosure.

Yeah, definitely weird.

He leant down to look at it from closer to its eye level.

“What’re you doing, little guy?” He murmured, before turning his attention to the organisation of the plants. They were almost circle-like, and he had noticed this the night before, but now he was really looking at it

It was organised. Weirdly so.

He shook his head. He was being silly.

It was making strange little noises.

He sighed a little, then pushed himself back to the water. He yawned

Despite the sleep he had just gotten, he was tired. His human was not, still being very loud. Had his human even slept?

Did humans usually sleep? He rubbed his forehead. What was the need for it to chirp so loudly at all times? He reached through the magical barrier and picked it up.

He brought his hand out and let it sit on his palm. It was probably better to let it get used to him early. Maybe that was why it was so noisy at the moment

It stared at him, suddenly silent. He just sat still and waited for it to stop being so startled. After about a minute, it blinked and looked around

He stayed as still as he could, very careful not to startle it more. It got harder to keep still once it stood up, with its tiny feet causing ticklish sensations on his palm.

He smiled, as it explored the edges of his palm (he did bring his other hand up to guard it from falling)

After a few weeks, his human (which he had named Scary- it was a half joking name, he didn’t find it scary at all) had become pretty comfortable near him. A contrast to how it started, it liked being held now, and would often tap on the barrier until Virgil abandoned whatever he was doing to let it climb into his hand

It liked it when he sang, always getting closer and watching him

Something about that was bugging him, but he couldn’t pinpoint what.

His friends had found out about Scary, and had had different reactions from each of them

Patton had tried to be supportive of his pet choice, but very clearly couldn’t even bring himself to look at the enclosure, shrieking in alarm every time he saw it moving. Virgil had offered that they hang at Patton’s place instead next time

When Logan had seen it, he’d stared silently for a few moments, asking one or two questions about it, before moving topics and disregarding it completely.

Virgil could tell that he was somewhat uncomfortable near it, but Logan was better at pretending the human wasn’t there than Patton was

Most of the time, though, it was just him and Scary in his cave, though. He kinda liked holding it in his hand, even if he had to stop it from trying to climb up to his face

Of course, there was the issue with the fact that if it decided it didn’t want to be held anymore, it would bite his hand until he’d place it back to the enclosure, at which point it would hang out doing whatever in there. He hadn’t figured out a way to get it to stop that

His hypothesis had been proven wrong, either way. Scary did not get any quieter. Were all humans like this?

He sighed, watching it tap on the barrier as though it hadn’t bitten him 5 times the previous hour.

“You’re a little menace, you are,” he informed it, reaching his hand into the enclosure and letting it scramble on

It still felt ticklish to feel its tiny feet on his palm. He let it stay there for a few moments, and he quietly sang to himself.

He’d never sung whilst it was in his hands before. He could feel the way it tensed up, and stared at him with far more intensity than ever. It began climbing up his arm, but not in the same way it usually did

He stopped singing in concern. It returned to normal

Okay. That was very, very strange. It climbed back into his palm, and stared up at him. He furrowed his eyebrows

He couldn’t really think of an explanation. Maybe his singing sounded like something from land? And it wanted to seek it out? That had to be it

Was that why it liked his singing so much? Could it not help getting closer? Were other humans the same? He frowned with his thoughts, still watching it as it stayed on his palm. Eventually he was pulled out of his thoughts by the feeling of being bitten

“Ow! Stop biting,” he said, lightly telling it off before putting it back in the enclosure

It stared up at him. Maybe he should get Logan to help him figure out the weird behaviour around singing

—

Remus, admittedly, was having fun. The giant siren, which he had decided to refer to as Purple, just for the sheer amount of purple that it was covered in. Purple skin, dark purple eyes, purple hair. There was certainly a theme going there

He liked it when Purple’s friends showed up, especially the lighter blue one, because it was entertaining, the way it was so jumpy around him.

It reminded him of how his brother acted when he saw a spider, though slightly less dramatic. Of course, that prompted an interesting theory in his mind

What if humans were like spiders to sirens? The more he thought about it, the more he believed it. What did people do when they saw a spider? They screamed and tried to kill it! What did sirens do when they saw humans? They screamed and tried to kill them!

He’d always wondered what spiders felt like and now he knew!

Of course, that meant that Purple must just have been one of those weirdos who kept spiders as pets (Remus had done the same. Even if it was mostly to scare his brother)

He laughed maniacally, uncaring of the fact that Purple was trying to sleep in the water beneath him.

He was still feeling the rush. He liked being held, the way his heart would speed up with instinctual fear and he’d be feeling the drop beneath him with one wrong move from Purple. He loved it

And, if he wanted to be put down, he could just bite. He had figured out two words from the siren, from how often he had heard them

Those words being “no” and “biting”. He never listened to them anyway.

Biting was fun, even though he never broke skin. He liked the way the hand twitched beneath him, not really in pain, but surprise

This time, for the first time, it sang while holding him. He felt his mind grow empty as the only thing he could think was to get closer

He was pretty sure that Purple, and other sirens, didn’t know how singing affected humans. Their almost confused expression when he awoke from his trance confirmed it

He figured that out quite early on. Because, well, most people wouldn’t knowingly summon something they’re scared of just to freak out about it

Remus probably would. He stayed in the hand, enjoying the rush of adrenaline that always accompanied waking up from siren song, before getting bored

He bit down on the thick skin, feeling it flinch beneath him

“Ow! No biting,” he was told. He just grinned, and started running around under that glass dome after a minute of staring. He could hear it sigh.

He grinned harder. He had wanted life to be interesting, and now it was.

He loved this so much. The way he was so scared, the way he didn’t know what would happen next, the way the siren moved in a way that his brain interpreted as a threat, the way his heart tried to beat out of his chest.

He could never have replicated this feeling back home.

He was having so much fun! Purple soon left, to do whatever kind of siren activity it usually did

He sat down, suddenly feeling tired.

His sleep schedule had become somewhat erratic since being in the cave, which seemed to annoy Purple, considering that he insisted on being noisy and talking to himself when he was awake

He laid back in a bush and waited to fall asleep.

When he woke up, there were two sirens in the cave. He grinned, feeling the way his heart sped up at the obvious threatening environment

The way their markings were lighting up made it obvious which friend had been invited. It was the darker blue one, who had flinched slightly when it had seen him, but had otherwise ignored him

He shot up into a standing position. He liked it when he was able to startle the sirens. It made him feel more powerful

This one, unfortunately, did not startle this time. He sighed, resigned. Well, that was disappointing

He got closer to the barrier. Maybe he could at least be a nuisance and get Purple to hold him. He was never allowed to be held when the other sirens were there, but if he was annoying enough, maybe he could

He tapped the magic glass, watching it ripple while he waited for Purple to get him out. Purple said something to the other siren, who responded with some kind of long answer that Remus couldn’t decipher

Purple did reach in to get him out this time. He grinned, climbing onto the clawed hand. It twitched under him

He wondered what it felt like to have a person in your palm. He was pulled through the magic barrier. He couldn’t get out on his own, and it felt strange to go through, as though it was trying to keep him in

Both sirens were staring down at him, making his heart beat strangely, and his blood rush in his ears. They were speaking to each other above him. Remus stood up and walked the single step to the edge of the palm, and looked down

The drop was dizzying, and the water below was so dark that he had no clue what was down there. The adrenaline from everything that ever happened in here was amazing

Purple’s other hand was brought in front of him, likely to make sure he didn’t fall into water. There was a deep breath above him, before it started singing again, looking at Blue at the same time.

When he broke out of his trance, he had apparently scaled up its arm and onto its shoulder. He looked down. The hand was lifted up for him to climb onto, which he did. He was lowered back to usual distance from his little dome with the painstakingly boring carefulness and hesitation it always carried him with

He looked over to Blue, who was tapping something on its hand and muttering something in the sirens’ language. Hm. Was he being studied like a little lab rat? Cool

He wondered if they’d dissect him. Would they kill him first or would it be a vivisection? Would they use tools or their claws?

He conceded that since his siren was immensely boring when it came to things like this, there’d probably not actually be a dissection. But he was imagining one very vividly, and that was the next best thing

He laughed in the hand, and sat down.

He loved this.

—

@a-chilly-pepper @da3dm

[herbeloved82]

Is this what happiness feels like?

Marius heard the giggle before he heard their steps coming closer and closer. They were up to something, those little minxes and he knew he should worry, but at the same time, he was too comfortable to move. 

There, in the room they shared, with the scent of the salty water of the sea drifting in, lulled by the gentle noise of the waves dancing with the sand of the remote island he bought only for them and the breeze that lazily moved the curtains, open to welcome the moonlight, laying among sheets that smelled like the perfect mix of them, Marius was too happy to move.  

Oh, he knew troubles would find him in the form of his two lovers, so he decided to just wait and see what their beautifully devious minds decided to do. There were so many ways they could choose to spend their evenings, and never did they shy away from mischief. That was one of the many reasons why he loved them as much as he did. 

They complemented each other. Three pieces of a puzzle that couldn’t make sense if one of them was missing. 

Marius was the calm and logical. He was the quiet harbor where the other two knew they were safe and could find the peace they needed. Armand was fire and passion that burned under the ice. He was the curious one, eager for everything, always consuming, craving all the love he could get and more. And Daniel, their young lover, was the humanity they had both lost too long ago, a reminder of what the world could still offer. He was the glue that put back together their broken pieces. They were perfect together and Marius knew he was ready to burn the world to keep them by his side. 

The giggles stopped abruptly, replaced by hushed shushing noises he would recognize everywhere. For a moment Marius was back in Venice, the noise coming from streets that were now foreign to him, the voices making his house alive forgotten by everyone but him. 

The smell of salt coming from a far away sea and dust and mixed colors, the smell of a city that was at the apex of its power and bursted with life and intrigues invaded Marius’ memories and with them came the voices. Young men’s whispering among themselves, working on their paintings, excited for the life in front of them. Among those voices a beloved one that always stayed with Marius even in his darkest moments. 

Amadeo’s giggling with Riccardo, confessing to him his desires and wishes. It had been such a beautiful thing to witness the growing friendship between them, knowing that Amadeo was leaving his shell behind, ready to look at the world with new eyes. 

A loud sigh left his lips as Marius tried to clear his mind. It was rare for him to let those memories sneak up on him, and yet they always found their way back when he had his guard down. 

It wasn’t even a surprise this time. Since Armand and Daniel both had come back to him, Marius hadn't felt the need to be always guarded and alert, always on the defensive, not with the two people he trusted with his life by his side. 

However memories were strange creatures, always present even when one didn’t know, ready to be awoken and bring pain or joy without a reason. Marius’ memories of the time in Venice were bittersweet, and always left behind the taste of regret. 

“Master?” Armand's worried voice sounded in the room, and Marius silently cursed for causing his lover even the smallest distress. 

“I’m fine my love, don’t let me keep you and Daniel from causing trouble,” Marius answered, calmly, sounding entirely unbothered by their antics.   

The gasp of outrage that escaped Armand’s full lips echoed in the room and made Marius laugh. He didn’t even need to open his eyes to know how he looked now, his big eyes shining in the semi-darkness of the room, his mouth slightly open, ready to deny such a false accusation. 

“We would never.” Daniel said, taking advantage of Armand’s silence. “You always say we are your angels, Marius. How could you accuse us of being anything but perfect?” 

Marius wasn’t aware he’d even said that, but he learned not to argue with Daniel, the young man could have put Cicero to shame. 

“I would never, my loves. You are two perfect angels,” they giggled again. “Of chaos and mischievousness.” He finished with a lightness in his voice that had been missed way too long. 

“You are a horrible person, Master, and you should pay for your cruelty.” 

In another time when things had been broken and too rough between them, Marius would have taken those words as a personal offense, an attack on his own person. Now, they were just a tease between them. 

“You are right, my angel. And tell me, how should I be punished?” 

Curious to where this would take them, Marius waited for an answer, which was fast to arrive. 

“You should keep your eyes closed and let us use you as a canvas.” Armand said like it was the most natural answer he had to offer. 

“A canvas?” Marius asked, unsure he understood his words. 

“You know what a canvas is, right Master? You are not old enough to forget about something you use everyday.”   

Marius huffed, unable to keep the sound for himself, oh he would show Armand who was old, but not before he allowed his lovers to have their way with him. There was nothing in this world he would ever deny them, and he had to admit he was intrigued by the unknown. 

“I think I still know what a canvas is, you cruel creature, but I never saw myself as one.” Marius said at the end. 

“As you always say, we should learn new things.” 

Marius couldn’t really remember when he ever said that either, but to argue with Armand once he made up his mind was something Marius wouldn’t waste his time on, so once he agreed he simply relaxed even more, scooted towards the middle of the bed and waited. 

He didn’t open his eyes when the mattress dipped on both his sides, signaling that both Armand and Daniel took their place and were ready for - well, Marius didn’t know for what but he knew they were all safe. And for once the need to control everything wasn’t strong enough to make him break his word to Armand. 

Marius allowed himself to be lulled by his lovers’ heartbeats into a state of contentment so deep The first kiss of a brush caught him by surprise. 

It was on his left side, where he knew Armand was. For a long moment he tried to follow the pattern and figure out what was being created on him, but soon he was distracted when Daniel too began his work.

They worked in silence for what felt like hours, stopping only to pamper his kin with small kisses or steal some from his lips. Then, when they were ready, Armand spoke again. 

“Do you trust us?” He asked, and for a moment Marius was taken aback. It had been a long time since Armand felt the need to ask that question, did something change again? 

He fought hard to keep the intrusive thoughts out of his mind. There was no reason to worry about something he didn’t know and too often he made the mistake to act before knowing what was going on exactly. 

“Always.” Marius chose to say. 

“Then would you allow us to help you out of the bed without opening your eyes?” This time the only answer he got was a sure nod of Marius’ head. He let himself be moved and led where they wanted him, in the middle of the room, if he wasn’t wrong. Even when he heard noises that would have made him suspicious, he kept his eyes closed, showing them once more how much he did trust them.   

“You can open them now.” 

So Marius did, and when his eyes were open, he could finally see what they turned his skin into. A canvas, like Armand had said, but more. 

The pages of a decorated book, where drawing beautifully made and words joined in harmony to create a story of love and forgiveness. Of redemption and absolution. Of sorrow and joy. On his skin was the path they had to walk to be here and now. Together when it had looked impossible for them to be. 

On his skin were the scars that they gave each other and the story of how they also made them heal. It was the story of their life but without the word end, because this was just their new beginning of an eternity they had earned at the price of their blood and tears. 

“I love you. I love you both, more than words can explain.” Marius said, his voice broken by emotions. 

“We love you too,” Daniel responded. 

“More than anything else.” Armand continued. And the same emotions Marius felt towards them reflected back in their eyes.  

That night Marius gave them his blood, allowing them to drink from him as they kissed. The elation and peace couldn’t be broken by anything, for they survived hell on earth and managed to find each other all over again. This was true happiness, Marius realized as a small smile appeared on his lips as Armand and Daniel used him as a pillow and were safe in his arms. 

Though it had come at a great cost for all of them, Marius would never willingly give up this happiness. If this was their happy ending, Marius thought, the pain he had endured didn’t weigh on his soul anymore.  

He sighed when Armand sharp fangs sunk in his neck, sipping from him like he would have tasted a fine wine back in Venice. Always greedy, his little minx, but he said nothing, allowing his lover to take what he needed from him, as their peaceful thoughts and steady heartbeats lulled them in a calm state that quieted the turmoil of their emotions. 

When morning drew closer, Marius only moved to secure the room so that Daniel wouldn’t suffer any harm brought by the sun. When sleep claimed them, they were caught in each other’s arms, as one, like they were always supposed to be, and the smile on their lips competed with the brightness of the sun itself. 

END