#as a kid I would start screaming at the sight of seaweed. not if it touched be or anything. just if I saw it

[cuteniarose]

It's half past 3 a.m and I have both russian AND literature tomorrow (easily my worst subjects [not counting exact sciences and maths] with a teacher who fucking hates me) and yet I'm still awake

Why?

Because the lore of my mermaid AU is expanding and I'm practically vibrating with how excited I am to indulge in it all

[sanyu-thewitch05]

Yandere Superhero X Villain! F! Reader

Wanna buy me a coffee: ☕

TW: Dubcon, spankings, kidnapping, bodily horror

PT.2

Your real name is Y/N L/N, but your villain name is Anima. After your latest failure in trying to find a job, you went into the woods to end it all. Then, by some miracle, an entity older than any Abrahamic religion found your dead body and brought you back to life. Your senses were heightened, and you could hear the animal's chatter and noises as words. With a new feeling of power, you went through society doing whatever you wanted. Even if it meant a few people with broken bones or blood on the floor. That was until a superhero by the name of superhero by the name of Ultimate Man appeared and started defeating you in battle.

He isn't going to be a problem anymore after you take him out with your new suit. Not only does it have the abilities and strengths of every animal alive, but it has the strengths and abilities of the extinct ones. It took kidnapping a paleontologist, but it is so worth it.

"Anima, surrender, and you won't get hurt," Ultimate Man commands, floating a few feet above the ground.

"Sorry, but rent's due," You say, running off with the bags of money from the bank.

As you run, he shoots lasers at you, but you dodge them by zigzagging. Unfortunately, this leads to you not paying attention to where you're going, and you run yourself off a harbor walk. The money sinks into the ocean, and you struggle to swim back up. You switch to the abilities of any marine animal, but it's still not helping you. You see your feet entangled in seaweed and try to break free. Your struggle to free yourself has worn you out, and it seems like this is your last run. Your vision goes black as your instincts tell you to go up to the surface and breathe.

~~~~~~~~~~

When you open your eyes, your jaw and ass feel sore. You try to talk, but there's a gag in your mouth.

"How dare you be such a bad girl and cause so much trouble? Do you have no respect for anyone in this city? Who cares if your rent is due? Get! A! Fucking! Job!" Ultimate Man rants, spanking your ass after every word.

"MM! MH! AWCH!" You scream, your legs kicking as Ultimate Man uses his godly strength to spank you.

The tight latex suit didn't help with the spankings, in fact, the material made sure your body could feel them at their full force.

"Oh, I see the worst girl of the century has awakened. How does it feel knowing you almost got yourself killed trying to steal money?" Ultimate Man asks, taking off your gag.

His blonde hair with light blue highlights, aquamarine eyes, and skin-tight latex white and blue suit is a sight for the eyes. His appearance is ethereal, representing his alien origin from outer space sent to help out Earth on its newest supernatural threat(you.) Who knew having the power of every animal in existence would warrant alien help for the planet Earth?

"I'm sorry, Ultimate Man. I was only trying to pay my rent. Honest," You plead, bracing for another swat to the ass. "I didn't get the raise at my job, even though I deserve it, and I couldn't pay this month's rent."

"I believe you," Ultimate Man says, his hand still rubbing your ass. "But that doesn't mean I forgive you for what you did. I was so worried when you didn't rise from the water. I thought I lost you forever. I need a suitable mate, and you're the only one with abilities almost equal to mine on this planet."

"I'm sorry, WHAT?! I thought you were in a relationship with that news writer, Lora?" You ask, lifting your head.

"Are you kidding me? We're just friends. She couldn't compare to your beauty and strength. Now then, how about we get to know each other."

Ultimate Man peels off your eye mask, then takes out his contacts. There are no pupils in his eyes, just pools of aquamarine. It creeps you out, but at least he's still hot.

"I'm ☍⍀⍜⎍☍⟒⋏ ⏃⏃⍀☍⟒⋔. But you can call me Krouken Aarkem, which is pronounced Cro-oo-can Ar-kem. My human father calls me Ken. Now, what's your name?" Ultimate Man asks, lifting your body with ease.

"It's Marnie," You lie, not wanting to give him your real name.

His fingertips glow blue, and he places them on your head. Pain takes over your head as he searches through the deepest parts of your memory.

"Y/N M/N L/N. What a beautiful name. I'll make sure to bring over your cat so you can have your baby," Krouken says, removing his hands from you.

You slap him and stumble to the other side of the couch.

"What the hell is wrong with you?" You groan, holding your head.

"What did I do wrong? Please don't be mad at me!" Krouken cries, jumping onto your body and hugging you tightly. "I'll never do it again unless you want me to! I promise! Just don't be mad at me!"

"Alright! Alright! I'm not mad at you! Just get off of me!" You yell, pushing him off you after feeling his boner on your leg.

"Yay! Now, we can engage in the Plutonian ritual we call Improving."

Krouken starts taking off his suit, revealing his naked body to you. You back up but bump into the couch, leaving you nowhere to run. He touches your suit, liquifying the material and making it fall off your body like water. Krouken kisses you, his hand tracing every part of your body as if he were memorizing it.

"Your heart is beating fast? Do you want to fight me?" Krouken asks his hand on your chest.

"No. It's just something the human body does when we feel certain emotions," You explain, holding Krouken's hand.

"So you are excited to Improve too? Excellent, I can move forward," Krouken replies, his two dicks merging into one with the width of an adult's fist.

Your eyes widen in fear of the inhuman cock in front of you. There was no way it was going to fit. It was too wide to fit in your human pussy. If it were to go inside you, you'd feel it in your lungs.

"Wait, I think we should-" You plead, only for Krouken to shove his massive cock inside of you.

You can feel it moving inside as if his dick was made from thousands of little suction cups that were kissing your vaginal walls. Krouken's arm holds you in place, and he thrusts.

"Keep going, Krouken!" You moan, lifting your leg and putting it on his shoulder.

Krouken bites and sucks your nipples as he thrusts faster, his dick suction cups losing their grip and becoming more slippery.

"You're never going to be a bad girl ever again. I'm going to fill your stomach up with so many babies that you'll never be able to think of doing stupid shit without having trouble standing up. You're going to birth the next generation of my people. You're mine, all mine. Not those villain's colleague or someone else's enemy, mine," Krouken rambles, thrusting at an inhuman rate, destroying whatever tightness your pussy had.

His eyes become white as he cums, his alien cock suction cups releasing thousands of sperm. Upon his sperm's release, his genital suction cups regained their grip on your walls, and sucking on them, making you go into overdrive. You cum on his dick, and he shudders. Both of you relish in your afterglow, sweat dripping from your body.

"So, what did you think of Improving?" Krouken asks, his head resting on your breasts.

"It was good. By the way, why do your people call it that?" You ask, rubbing Krouken's wet hair.

"Because we improve each other's bodies. Once my seed is in you, it will rework some human DNA so you'll be more like me and vice versa. Your skin is already starting to become shiny and ethereal like my skin," Krouken answers, kissing your neck.

Your body feels extremely hot, like lava is in your veins, and your eyes are burning like no tomorrow. Your spine releases a horrifying crack as your body involuntarily jolts upwards. All you can do is scream as your bones and body transform permanently.

[slayonehundredninetytwo]

Perfect Date

The cutest most romantic date (in my opinion at least) is a picnic. The two demigod lovers Percy and Annabeth are both romantics, just like any other human. Normally, they don’t get to see each other in person aside from their summertime stays at camp half-blood. Of course, they facetime almost nightly, but it’s not the same. So when Annabeth finally came to visit, Percy wanted to do something special for Naturally he thought a picnic would be a cute idea. 

There is a park not far from Percy’s house they made plans to meet at. Percy went to the store and grabbed a pretty bouquet of flowers he knew she would like. Then he went to subway and ordered them both sandwiches with all their favorite toppings. 

Percy arrived at the park ten minutes before they planned to meet, so he could set up. He layed out a floral blanket in the grassy area just stray from the playground. He placed everything down in a calculated manner, creating a pinterest worthy image of a perfect picnic. He saw Annabeth riding his bike towards him, carefully pushing down the kick stand and hopping off.

“Why’d you ride my bike all the way here? I would have driven you if I knew my mom couldn’t drive you!” he said, worried he’d already ruined his perfect date.

“Relax, seaweed brain, your mom is actually the one who gave me permission to use your bike! I wanted to. It’s a beautiful day out.”

That’s his girl. She wants to see all the beautiful sights, even if it’s just a normal neighborhood and average weather. 

“Alrighty then. Have a seat m’lady!” He grinned cheerfully, handing her the flowers he’d picked for her.

“Oh Percy, these are so pretty! And they smell great. Thankyou!”

Perfect. Annabeth liked the flowers, and of course would like the sandwhich. This date is truly perfect.

For the next hour, the pair chowed down on their sandwiches, chatting and laughing and having so much fun.

When they were done with their lunch, they started to run out of things to say. 

“Let’s go play on the park!”

“That’s for little kids seaweed brain.”

“Who cares! Besides, no one else is here anyway.”

Annabeth couldn’t argue with that. First, Percy and Annabeth sat down beside each other, holding hands and swinging as they had seen all the cutest couples do before. They started to swing higher and higher, until finally Annabeth let go of his hand and both their swings went crazy in opposite directions, the two laughing and squealing along with it.

Soon enough, they dismounted their swings to explore the rest of the playground. There was this spinning equipment, almost shaped like a pogo stick, only if it had a circular base and rotated. 

“What’s this for?” Annabeth asked curiously.

Percy had grown up at this park, and of course knew that you sit or stand on the bottom and someone can spin you around and make you super dizzy.

“It’s fun! Sit on it, I’ll show you.”

Annabeth was excited, and of course sat as instructed.

“Criss cross apple sauce, and hug your arms around the middle part.” Annabeth of course complied.

“Okay… 3… 2…. 1!”

On one, he spun her around with all is might, making her scream in a good way, like when you ride a roller coaster.

When it stopped turning, Percy told her to try and walk in a straight line to a near by tree. Annabeth was so dizzy, it was a nearly impossible task.

“Woah.. My head is still spinning!! Your turn!” Annabeth said with a smirk.

Percy thought back to his childhood days when he rode this before. He’s always had a weak stomach, and he one got sick in front of his first real school friend ever. The kid was so grossed out never spoke to him again. Which is definitely an overreaction, but was still rough for young Percy.

“Oh I don’t know Annabeth..”

“Oh come on perce! You mean to tell me the son of Poseidon is afraid of a little kids playground?”

He wasn’t scared. He just didn’t want to be sick. But he couldn’t admit that to her. Surely his stomach has gotten stronger since that incident, right?…..right?

“Uh.. okay then, but don’t go too fast.”

“No promises.” Annabeth quipped. He loves her, but man, she can be fiesty sometimes.

He wrapped himself around the equipment, holding on as tightly as he can.”

“3…” He began counting down.

“ONE!!!!” Annabeth shouted over him, spinning him unexpectedly. She spun him so fast, he thought he would fly away. He screamed girlier than Annabeth did, who was now cackling at the sound of his screams. Once the spinning slowed, Percy evacuated the spinner.

“Okay Percy, you know the drill, walk in a straight line.”

He tried, he really tried, to get up and walk. But something pushed him into the wood chips flat on his bum. Annabeth laughed again, before realizing Percy wasn’t laughing. 

She looked at his solemn face, his skin starting to show a hint of green. Before she could ask, Percy said firmly.

“I’m gonna puke.”

Before tilting his head forward and puking into his lap. 

“Ohmygod Percy.”

Annabeth said. Not in a eewwww gross kind of way, more of a, omg-are-you-okay-that-surprised-me, kind of way.

His half digested subway sandwich was now all over his shirt and the wood chips beneath him. Annabeth rubbed his back, trying to offer some comfort for her boyfriend as a single tear rolled down his cheek. Her hand on his back could feel how he pitched forward with every gag and heave, becoming less powerful but still strong. 

It was over as fast as it started. 

“I’m sorry” Percy said quietly through shky breaths, “I ruined our perfect date.”

“It’s not your fault seaweed brain. I never should have pressured you to ride. I’m the one who should be sorry. And besides, it’s not ruined, I still had so much fun with you while it lasted.”

Percy wanted to kiss her so bad. “I want to kiss you so bad” he said “But my mouth is covered in vomit.”

“Yeah.. you can kiss me later, okay perce? Let’s go home.”

-

I really like this one! I like writing for pjo because of the canon relationships making many opportunities to explore romantic fics!! requests open :)))

Visit my page for more, requests are open :))))))))))

-

🫶

I want a boyfriend so bad you don’t even know 😔😊

[merakiui]

Yan twst camp au where Octavinelle are the lake Cryptids that drag campers and counselors under the water.

YES OMG AAAAA please don’t mind my ramblings!!! also, I know you said lake but!!

(cw: yandere, drowning/death, brief injury/blood descriptions, unhealthy behaviors, implied stalking)

Every place has its fair share of legends and rumors—fun gossip that gives a city or a town character. The small island you grew up on, which houses a population of just half of a thousand, isn’t exempt from scary stories ranging from underwater beasts to creatures that can take on the form of a human and hunt at night; the island has lots of stories like those and it capitalizes on them. After all, if you can’t see these beasts firsthand then a keychain of their silhouettes or a postcard of a poorly edited shadow on water’s surface are bound to do the trick. Tourists eat it up, especially those who claim to be monster hunters or fans of the unknown and mysterious. They’ve even started doing tours to various locations where supposed sightings and attacks have taken place.

You believe in every legend because, ironically enough, you witnessed them when you were young. It’s a foggy memory now, but you remember the fear and the churning water and the claws that dug into your ankles when you were yanked under. At the time, you were none the wiser when you foolishly accepted the dare to ‘summon the sea beast,’ as your friends called it. Looking back you realize they weren’t really your friends because they often made you prove your loyalty in (mostly) harmless rituals. And because you were so desperate to fit in with a cool group of kids, you agreed. 

You were fifteen then and sneaking out of the house thirty minutes before midnight was, in your young self’s mind, the scariest, craziest, coolest thing you’d ever done. You fretted over the scolding you’d no doubt face should you get caught, but your excitement outweighed any fear; and so you made the ten minute bike ride down to the beach. Your friends were already there and they were all going on about the ritual and the witching hour and how this will make you ‘one of them.’ You thought it would be amazing when they finally accepted you. Then you’d be considered an equal and they wouldn’t treat you like their errand runner anymore. And all you had to do was play some silly game. 

The first stone of unease settled deep in your gut when one of them brandished a knife and told you to make a cut along your palm. You faintly remember staring at him in disbelief, wondering how this would help at all, to which he explained that sea beasts are attracted to blood and if this particular sea beast liked the smell of your blood he’d most definitely show up. Even though you were against it, you didn’t want to look like a coward. So you snatched the knife and, squeezing your eyes shut, ran it along your palm. It wasn’t enough to draw blood; it was a mere scrape. Your friend had grabbed your wrist and you remember thinking he was so forceful about it before the blade sliced skin and blood bubbled to the surface. It stung; tears sprung in your eyes, but you willed yourself to stay calm. 

After that, you had to do some stretching and run in front of them while they hyped you up as the lot of you awaited midnight. When midnight finally came, you were told to chant some words (you’re certain they made it up) before wading into the water and slicing your other palm open. “Be lucky you only have to do it twice,” someone had said when you complained. “We’d make you do it eight times, but there’s no time for that.” This time you were able to make the cut, but more blood came out than usual and you suddenly didn’t want to do this anymore. But just as you shoved your hand into the dark waters in hopes of washing the crimson off, your feet just barely touching the seabed and your friends cheering you on from the shore, something brushed against your leg. 

You screamed. They laughed. 

It’s just seaweed, you assured yourself, but you were whirling around in hopes of finding the culprit so that you could put your frazzled mind at ease.

Just as you were about to relax, frigid fingers wrapped around your ankle and you didn’t have any time to get another breath in before you were tugged under. The rest of that night is a hazy blur. You can recall your struggle as you thrashed in a monster’s grip. Briefly, you caught sight of something green and long—like a winding snake—and flashing teeth as sharp and serrated as a razor’s edge. You were certain you were going to drown. It was impossible to get out of this thing’s grasp and just when you thought you’d free yourself another pair of webbed hands had caught hold of you. Something thick winded around your waist and you were held in place for a moment. Eventually, your consciousness had fizzled out and things truly went dark. 

When you awoke, you were on the shoreline and the moon was high in the inky sky. The cuts on your palms had closed up, healed into fading scars, but there were strange markings on your stomach and legs. Jagged, angry scrapes and the undeniable imprint of suckers from a tentacle. Your friends were nowhere to be found, and despite whatever had happened in the ocean you forced yourself onto wobbly legs, retrieved your bike, and walked back home. No one spoke about it the following day and you were threatened to keep quiet when your friends realized you weren’t dead as they had initially thought. You stopped hanging out with them after that. 

Now you’re an adult and you’ve come to regard the memory as a cautionary tale of sorts. You have no problem sharing it with the kids at the camp you work at, who sit on the edge of their seats around a campfire, breath bated and s’mores-making put on temporary hold. Every summer for two months the island hosts something known as ‘marine camp.’ It’s really just two months of fun, water-based activities that are meant to foster companionship, teamwork, and kindness amongst the youth. It’s also good at teaching them valuable island skills, like how to fish, how to perform CPR, how to rescue someone who’s drowning, how to properly utilize a life ring, and so on. The campsite rests on a stretch of beach, with small, shack-like cabins dotting the sandy grounds. Beyond that, a thick line of trees stand tall, and past the greenery is the thin road that leads into town. It’s not entirely isolated—there are still some people who live nearby—but it’s a perfect getaway for those who want to tough the rugged, beachside wilderness. 

Marine camp has always been fun for everyone. You’ve watched campers form friendships, you’ve listened to their own twisted versions of the island’s tales, and you’ve even made a few friends among your fellow counselors. It’s always a good time and you enjoy doing what you do. 

It’s a few weeks into marine camp when a camper goes missing. No one knows where they are, but everyone is determined to find them. You’re especially worried. In all of your years as a camp counselor, you’ve never had to deal with this before. When a body is discovered on the shoreline the following morning, cold, stiff, and waterlogged, your worst fears are confirmed. It’s the missing camper. She was shy and didn’t really associate with many kids, but she was nice and loved to tell stories to the counselors. You remember her from last year’s marine camp. She was a good kid. 

“How could this happen? She’s on the swim team, isn’t she?” one of your counselors had questioned, raking her hands through her windswept hair. “This makes no sense...”

You stared down at her, ignoring the chatter from the campers as they were led back to their cabins, and frowned. Her arms had faint scratches, as if something had halfheartedly struggled to hold her still under the water. The authorities are called shortly after that and they come down with questions. When the girl is taken away, everyone’s certain she drowned. You don’t quite believe it, but that’s the story they’ve decided on and you have no choice but to follow what the majority says.

Lunch is strained and tense; no one says much of anything. You realize, while in the middle of poking at the food on your plate, that she wasn’t wearing her locket when she washed ashore. She always wore it. Always. 

It takes a week and a few days, but things slowly return to normal. The counselors offer their ears and shoulders should any camper need it. They’re desperately trying to go back to normal, but in your mind this is far from normal. This has never happened before. How can it possibly be an accident? How could she have just drowned? What really happened? The counselors tell you not to dwell on it. The police will handle any investigation should they suspect foul play. 

And eventually you force the poor girl to the back of your mind in order to focus on camp activities. 

The next incident is, thankfully, not as severe as the previous, but it rattles you all the same. You happened to peer out the window while preparing the tables for dinner when you spot one of the counselors wading out into the water to retrieve a ball for a group of campers. One minute he’s lifting the inflated thing, a proud grin on his face, and the next he’s disappeared under the water. You’re not sure what propels you into action, but you’re snatching up a fork and grabbing a life float as you rush out of the dining hall, across the beach, and into the water. 

You see him wrapped up in something. A tail? Seaweed? Trash? But when you look closer you realize it’s a dark tentacle that’s connected to a half-human monster-creature-thing. When his head snaps up to meet your horrified stare, his glacial eyes blown wide with thrill, you react on pure instinct. The minute another tentacle wraps around your ankle, intending to drag you down with your friend, you grip the fork and, with as much force as you can muster, drive it into the thick muscle. It punctures it—thank the heavens the forks here are new and sharp and perfect for skewering—and he withdraws from you. The next thing you know, the water colors black and you’re breaching the surface with a gasp, your arms wrapped around the counselor as he hangs limply over the float. He’s unresponsive as you paddle the both of you back to the shore, your legs burning with the effort. 

When you perform CPR and he coughs up seawater, you feel the unmistakable glower of a pair of icy eyes boring into your skull. But when you glance at the sparkling ocean reflecting the beautiful sunset, the waters have gone still and the feeling of being watched has vanished.

There are monsters out there. That’s what everyone’s started saying. No one wants to go in the water. And when you wake and find a familiar-looking locket on your bedside table, you realize these aren’t just monsters. They’re hunters—intelligent creatures that seem to only come out at night.

Maybe it’s because you’ve started dwelling on your past ever since the two attacks have happened. Maybe you want to end this madness once and for all. Maybe you want to find these monsters and make them pay for hurting two innocent people and stop them from hurting any other unfortunate souls. But when you stand at the water’s edge with a harpoon and a life vest snugly hugging your shivering frame, you’re met with something else entirely.

Under the silver glow of moonlight, a human male wades in the water and he’s beckoning you with inviting hand motions. Two other heads pop up in the water, mismatched eyes gleaming. 

Your grip on the harpoon tightens.

[jimlingss]

I saw that u were taking requests (yey) I'd want like a soulmate au (there are numerous kinds but I want u to have freedom to write what kind u want!) but it's just pure angst 😳😳 it could be any member n possibly an open or no happy ending :] I'm just a sucker for angst n think u would write this so well!

Anonymous said: Yoongi x reader, soul mate au, angsty but happy ending pls cuz I'm sensitive 🥺 maybe both soul mates get a weird tattoo, or hear each others thoughts or something else

Both these requests are asking for soulmate AUs, so I’m compiling them together. But one wants it to be angst city and the other wants a happy ending LOL. Guess we’ll see what happens.

↳ The Soulmate Gift

3.6k || 70% Angst, 30% Fluff || Min Yoongi || Soulmate!AU

Warning: depiction of child abuse

It happens when you’re ten.

They told you it was different for everyone, that it usually started during puberty and it was perfectly normal. But you’re pretty sure it’s not supposed to be like this.

Bang! Bang! Bang! 

You flinch at the noises, the bathroom door quivering against the frame from the pounding on the other side. Your mom shouts, “Get out!”

“Just give me one second!” You look back into the mirror, staring at yourself with seaweed green hair and streaks of bright purple. You look like a clown and you want to cry. 

You don’t run into your mom on your way out, so you go to school with a tattered baseball cap, stuffing all of your hair in it. During the trudge to school with a grumbling stomach, you hold the cap tight against your skull, not letting a single strand loose. You’re nervous on the playground, your other hand coming to grip at your backpack strap. But luckily, no one asks. 

At least not until you’re inside and getting settled into your desk.

“Good morning, class!” Mrs. An struts into the room, beelining towards the front. “Open your books! Tommy, shush!” You try your best to hide beneath your open textbook that’s propped up, but the moment she looks in your direction, she’s already saying, “Y/N, no hats inside.”

You straighten. “Um, my mom—”

“Rules are rules. Take it off,” she commands without leaving room to argue or explain. “This is the last time I’ll repeat myself unless you want detention.”

So you do.

You slip the cap off your head with tears stinging your eyes.

Mrs. An turns to the whiteboard, beginning to write the title for today’s lesson, but a loud gasp from the classmate sitting behind you captures her attention again. She swivels on her feet and her eyes land straight on your head. Everyone’s eyes do. On your stark, fiery red hair.

Your cheeks burn in embarrassment. 

The next thing you know, you’re being dragged by your teacher into the principal's office. From the hall, you can still hear the entire classroom giggling, whispering about you and making a complete ruckus much to Mrs. An’s dismay.

“This is unbelievable!” she howls, hands lifted to the sky. “How could a fifth grader have hair like this?! It’s entirely inappropriate! It’s a complete distraction to the classroom!”

The principal, Mr. Park, hums. His hands are clasped on top of his desk and he calmly asks, “Did your parents dye your hair yesterday, Y/N?”

You slump and mutter, “No.”

He frowns. “Then who did?”

“No one…”

Mrs. An spits, “Then you did it yourself?!”

“No!” Your voice pitches in an attempt to defend yourself and your teeth sink into the bottom of your lip, trying to hold back your tears. You don’t want to get into trouble. “I woke up like this!”

But Mrs. An doesn’t believe you. Her eyes narrow and she scoffs. “How dare you lie to me and the principle?! If you didn’t do it, then who did? It’s against the rules to have anything other than your natural hair colour!” 

Mr. Park sighs lightly. “We’ll just have to contact your mom and speak to her, Y/N.”

Immediately, your eyes widen and you bolt to a stand. “No, please!” you cry out. “Don’t! I’m sorry! I’ll dye it back! I won’t do it ever again!” 

But the man shakes his head. “It’s too late for that.”

Your fist crumples and you deflate. 

Your mom comes in half an hour later, dressed in stained jeans, old boots, and the only clean flannel she has. She’s not happy. You can tell by the look on her face. Even if she smiles and nods her head at the principal, you can see the tick in her eye and the muscle in her cheek twitching.

The moment she looks at you, her eyes become rounded at your crimson hair.

“I had no idea this happened. I’m so sorry for her behaviour. She must’ve gotten her hands onto my dye kits somehow.” She sighs and turns to you. “It won’t happen again. Right, Y/N?”

You nod. “I’m sorry.”

Mr. Park smiles softly. “Not at all. It’s not that big of a deal. Some...teachers around here just adhere more strongly to the rules, so we want to make sure it’s consistent for everyone. It’s a bit of a distraction to her peers, but as long as Y/N comes in tomorrow with more...appropriate hair, it won’t be a problem.”

Afterwards, you’re sent home early. 

Your mom is silent on the walk home. You trail after her, dreading what will happen when you get back. 

The neighbours’ dog barks against the chain link fence, growling and baring their teeth. You flinch, getting closer to the gutter to avoid them. You’re safe when you get to your yard a few steps away and onto the worn, wooden porch that nearly breaks with your mom’s stomps. She kicks a few cigarette buds to the side and opens the squeaky screen door. You swallow hard and follow after her.

The living room is messy with clothes and old pizza boxes on the floor, and the TV is still on in the corner. 

“Mom….mom….I didn’t do it.” 

You drop your backpack, watching her stride towards the kitchen. She opens a drawer as you plead to her, and your voice becomes louder as the silver reflection of sharp scissors catches your eye. “No! Please! I swear I’m not lying!”

It’s useless.

She’s larger, taller, bigger and stronger than you are. 

She comes over and grabs your long hair, yanking it from your head. You cry as she starts to cut. Jagged lines, quick snips, sawing off the strands. A sob breaks through your chest and trying to get away only makes her grip on your hair tighten and she pulls it to get you back.

Mom grits her teeth. “How dare you go behind my back and cause my trouble, you bitch. You stole my dye, didn’t you?! You thief!”

You scream and cry. “I didn’t! I didn’t!” 

She never once notices how your hair returns to its natural colour as it sheds to your feet. That the moment it’s snipped from your head, the blazing red has faded away and lost the colour.

When it’s over, the scissors are tossed on the floor.

You’re left slumped on the ground, in a pool of your own hair. There are bald spots on your scalp while the other side is longer, uneven. What’s left of your head bleeds bright yellow, the colour of sunshine.

The next day, the shade mellows out, almost into a dirty blonde. You hope it’s good enough.

Your mom’s asleep on the sofa, snoring away with the TV still playing in the background. So you make it past her and trudge to school.

Kids are playing on the playground when you get there and you grip your backpack straps as you look on. But you don’t join them. Your feet turn and you duck out of sight, slipping into the school through the side doors. You’re lucky the janitor hasn’t locked them.

You’re not supposed to be inside the building yet, but you hope no one notices. Unluckily, someone turns the corner down the hall. But you breathe a sigh of relief when it’s just Mrs. Jung.

She’s always been nice. 

“Good morning.”

She’s busy tapping on her phone, yet in a chirpy voice, she still exclaims, “Good morning! How are you—”

Mrs. Jung finally looks up and she suddenly stops. 

You don’t know why her face looks like that. Like she’s seen a ghost. Is your hair really that bad? You tried to fix it and you thought it turned out okay.

Mrs. Jung gets closer and then lowers to a kneel in front of you, matching your height. Her shaking hand lifts and she touches the side of your head. You feel her fingertips against your scalp that still stings. You hiss and when you look at her, you see tears in her eyes. You wonder why.

“Who did this?” Her voice is quiet, gentle. 

“Um….I was playing with scissors.” 

Mrs. Jung looks at you again and says, “You’re allowed to tell me, Y/N.” 

You stay quiet, not sure what to tell her, not sure you want to get into any more trouble. If you do and get sent to the principal's office again, who knows what your mom would do then.

But as you’re thinking about it, Mrs. Jung adds on, “No one will get into trouble, I promise.”

She looks into your eyes. 

Your head droops, downcast vision looking at the floor. A quiet mumble escapes— “My mom.”

You’re not sure what happens after that. You’re sure your mom would be enraged if she knew you were talking about her and if you got her into trouble, that would be the worst. But for some reason, you don’t feel scared. Not when Mrs. Jung takes your hand and brings you to her science classroom. 

You sit behind her desk that’s hidden away from the rest of the class by bookshelves and she gives you an apple juice box. You slurp it up — you haven’t eaten since yesterday’s lunch.

When you peek out, you see Mrs. Jung talking to another teacher in the hall. Soon after, the principle comes to visit you. He has the same expression as Mrs. Jung did and asks you if your mom’s done something like this before. 

That day, your grandma picks you up from school. It’s a pleasant surprise. You’ve always liked your grandma but your mom never let her visit much. She hugs you tight.

The colour of your hair is a warm shade of gray.

...

Mrs. Jung takes you on a one-on-one special field trip on Sunday. She picks you up from Grandma’s house after you’ve had your favourite for breakfast: sunny-side up eggs. She drives you to the clinic and the female doctor hits your knee, making it bounce. The doctor also measures how tall you are, shines a light in your eye and asks if green is your favourite colour.

You see in the wall mirror that your head’s turned into a teal shade. You tell her no.

Half an hour later, you’re put in a machine that flashes lots of colours. They reassure you but you’re not scared. The vivid hues and mosaic of shades that blur past your eyes are pretty.

When it’s done, the doctor holds a clipboard while sitting next to the computer. Your legs swing from the edge of the examination table as you’re situated comfortable on the plush seat. 

“It’s as I initially suspected, the hair is her soulmate gift. It changes colour based on her soulmate’s emotions.”

Mrs. Jung frowns. “I’ve never heard of something like that before.”

“Yes, well, it’s much more rare. Only point zero six experience a hair quirk.” The doctor looks from Mrs. Jung to you then back at her again. “Typically, as you know, soulmate gifts come in the form of names tattooed into skin or even countdowns of when the person would meet their soulmate, but soulmate gifts can take all kinds of different shapes and forms. Luckily, this shouldn’t affect her too much aside from, obviously, her hair changing color. Kids usually receive their gift around puberty, but looks like she’s an early bloomer.”

The doctor briefly smiles at you and then rolls on her chair towards her desk. “She’s also malnourished, but I believe with the proper nutrition, she’ll be able to recover. We should book another appointment in a few months to keep an eye on that and the hair.”

When the trip to the clinic is over, Mrs. Jung brings you to the mall.

You look around with wide eyes at all the clothes in the windows, but she eventually stops in front of a particular store and kneels in front of you. Her eyes lock into yours and she takes your hand.

“Y/N, you understand what the doctor told you, right?”

“Yeah. My hair’s my soulmate gift.” You had guessed it was that anyway. 

Mrs. Jung nods with a smile. “Yes, you’ve always been a smart girl.”

She strokes your head affectionately and says, “I know you might not feel it now, but it really is a gift. Your soulmate is the one meant for you, your other half. They’re the one who can make you even happier. It’s both a blessing and a privilege to have. But it’s also okay if you hate it. You don’t have to like your soulmate gift,” she reassures. “If one day, you’re more comfortable with your hair, then that would be good. But it’s also okay if you’re not. It’s up to you.”

You nod after a moment.

Mrs. Jung smiles. “We’re gonna go into that wig shop, okay? You can pick two that you like and I’ll help you get it.”

Picking out wigs is more fun than you expect. The people there are happy to help and you end up going home with one black, long hair wig and another brown bobbed one that makes you look like Rapunzel after she cut her hair.

...

You only see your mom three times after that.

Once, she comes to your grandma’s house. Your grandma doesn’t let her see you, but you watch them yell at each other on the porch from the upstairs window. The next time is a year later in court. Your mom cries out for you and you tell her you’re sorry. Her hug is so tight, you can barely breathe. 

The last is a visit on your own accord years later. 

The small house you spent your childhood in is falling apart, windows broken, trash in the yard. You find her sitting on the armchair with a hazy expression, TV playing in the corner. She’s in the same exact position as if you never left. You put a blanket over her, but she stirs awake and sees you. She asks to borrow a hundred dollars.

Your mom winds up throwing a dirty plate your way when you give her twenty. It’s all you have on you.

You don’t realize the significance of what Mrs. Jung’s done for you until years later after you’ve long graduated elementary. So you visit her during High School with a thank you card and a bouquet of flowers. She’s gotten old by then, but she still remembers. She cries and hugs you tight. It feels comforting. And her hand brushes against the strands of your baby blue locks.

Grandma helps you grow out your hair again and is one of the people who help you become comfortable in it. By university, you’ve discarded your wigs in favour of your real hair that’s gotten luscious and shiny. Your friends think it's the coolest thing they’ve ever seen and some people approach you to tell you they love it and ask where you got it done. 

You tell them it’s your soulmate gift.

Throughout the years, you pick at the ends of your hair and keep track of its changes in your diary. It becomes a habit to play with your hair, to memorize the shade it morphs to. You find that during the winter seasons, your hair becomes white often. One day, it turns white twenty six times. 

On Valentine’s Day one year, your hair stays solid pink the whole day. And on another, it’s black for an entire week in April. 

You start to hypothesize on the data you collect, noting the frequency of the hair colour changes, of each shade. You suspect hues of yellow signify happiness, reds are anger, blues are sadness, white is when your soulmate is cold. You’re not so sure about the others—

“Y/N.”

Seokjin is leaning on your cubicle as you shut your journal, having recorded your hair turning into a shade of lilac.

“Boss man wants to see you.”

Your eyes widen and you stumble up, pushing your small office chair back. “What for?”

The man shrugs. “Beats me. I wouldn’t worry about it though. It’s not like he’s going to fire you………..right?”

Seokjin grins, but his joke only spurs more nerves on you.

You get to the door, smooth out your pencil skirt and with a deep breath, you knock.

“Come in.”

“You wanted to see me, Mr. Min?” 

You step inside his office, finding him looking into a small table mirror at his desk. He’s peering at his left eye and bats his lash several times. But then he sets the mirror down and looks at you.

“Yes, please take a seat.”

You clear your throat and sit in the chair across from him. The mirror is propped up in your direction, and you notice how your hair turns into a shade of monotone gray. It starts at the roots, bleeding downwards until all the strands have altered completely.

You pipe up, “If this is about the Jeon files, sir, I already redid them.”

“No, that’s not it.” He rubs his left eye that’s watering and then blinks. “Actually, I wanted to have a conversation about this for a while. Joy was supposed to talk to you about this, but she’s busy at the moment.”

Joy from HR. 

You’re immediately on alert. “Yes, sir.”

 Mr. Min says, “It’s about your hair.”

Oh.

He rubs his eye and then clasps his hands together on top of his desk. “Recently, we received a customer complaint that your hair was unprofessional.”

“It’s my soulmate gift.”

“Yes. I know. You mentioned it during your interview. But it still could be considered a distraction in the workplace.”

The word ‘distraction’ has a muscle by your brow jumping. It makes you practically bristle as déjà vu washes over you. But you aren’t ten anymore. You don’t have to be afraid.

You straighten. “With all due respect, I don’t think it’s a requirement for me to have to change my hair. This is out of my control….sir.”

Suddenly, your hair turns a faint hue of red.

Mr. Min’s brow raises as if he didn’t expect you to be so difficult. “It’s part of the rules to have business appropriate attire in the office.”

“Attire yes, but there is nothing referring to hair,” you quietly assert.

His jaw shifts and he leans back into his seat. “Well, we’ll have to confirm if that’s true with HR—”

“I already did,” you interrupt him with a meek smile and as an afterthought, you add, “sir.”

Your hair turns a stronger shade of red. From pastel to a raspberry. Your pupils flicker to the mirror on his desk and your brows furrow as you notice it.

Mr. Min breaks you out of your trance and you redirect your attention to him again. “Is it impossible to make it less of a distraction?” he asks while rubbing his eye that’s tearing up again.

“If it becomes a requirement for me to wear wigs to work every day and not an expectation for others, sir, then the company should pay for it, put it on for me each morning and help me maintain it.” Your hair turns a stronger shade of red — crimson — as Mr. Min rubs his eye more incessantly. You add, “With all due respect, I don’t consider my hair a distraction at all. It is out of my control and it isn’t my fault if others are distracted. It has to do with their attention span.”

He stands. “That’s enough.”

At the same time, from his watered eye, you see something fall out. 

You point. “Umm, sir…”

“Shit,” he mutters underneath his breath and looks to the carpet. You stand there for a delayed second before deciding to help him. You round his desk and descend to the ground where he is. All he says is, “It’s a contact lens.”

It’s a surprise to you considering you didn’t know he wore them.

But you quickly spot the transparent half-sphere. “Oh, it’s over there. By your foot.”

Mr. Min frowns. “Where?”

He looks up to see where you’re pointing. Your faces are inches away and instantly your eyes widen. A quiet gasp leaves your lungs. Not because of your close proximity but because Mr. Min’s iris is a fading red. And as confusion takes you, it morphs into a shade of gray.

Blooming outwards from his pupil, colour swirling into place.

“Your eye…” you murmur.

He mumbles, “It’s a soulmate gift.”

Yoongi grabs the brown colour contact lens, cursing at how it’s gotten dirty. But before he can get up, your hands latch onto his wrist, fingers digging into his skin and you tell him, “Wait.”

“What?”

There’s an unquenchable thirst to test the hypothesis that’s dawned upon you. 

So when your hair starts to turn into gray as well, you surge forward on sheer intuition. And you kiss your boss, Min Yoongi. Your lips press against his, enough to register how soft and velvet his mouth is, long enough to feel his vanilla chapstick transfer onto your lips. But it’s a chaste peck. Shy and hesitant. And you pull away just as quickly.

Yoongi falls back on his butt with eyes nearly falling out of their sockets.

Immediately, you look over to the mirror on his desk. Your hair is turning from gray to red with faint streaks of cotton candy pink. 

You gaze back at Yoongi to find his iris is peony pink.

“D-Did you just kiss me?!”

“Umm, sir, with all due respect, I believe you’re my soulmate.”

The words to dawn upon him. For the first time, your strands of hair morphs into a soft, pastel pink and his irises match the same shade.

[femmeharringrove]

so niki has two dads. so what?

if you say anything about it, she'll kick you. and if principal kane wants to meet with her fathers, then so be it.

that only happens twice - first with steve, who walks in with sunglasses high on his face, a cup of coffee in hand, and a stance that makes the shorter man in front of him admittedly uncomfortable. niki is almost gleeful as she watches her dad stare blankly at the principal, then tug his glasses down to eye him more critically. not a word is spoken, there isn't a sound outside of the gentle swishing caused by niki's feet kicking back and forth. when the silence is broken, it's by steve, voice bored and uncaring.

"what's the problem, mister kane?" principal kane looks a little intimidated by the man in front of him - as he should be, niki knows.

"uh - well, uh, you see, nikita got in another fight again with a student, and -"

his words come to a halt when steve's hand comes up to stop them, the other hand perched comfortably on his hip. his head turns to face his daughter, and while his face is deadly serious she sees the sparkle in his eye and knows she's in no trouble here.

"nikita," he drawls, "did you get into a fight today?"

"yeah," she replies, without an ounce of remorse.

"do you want to tell me why?" he pushes, and she does, so she tells him.

"joey carter said that nobody wants to be my friend because i have two dads and that's wrong." joey is full of shit, as uncle dustin likes to say. she has plenty of friends, and all her friends love her papa and her dad. because steve always makes them the best snacks and takes them on all sorts of trips and takes the time to get to know the kids. and billy lets them do his makeup and carries them around the house while they squeal in delight. their parents might have been unsure at first, but steve and billy have made friends with most of niki's friends' parents. but the carters are gross people and their son is no exception as far as the eight-year-old is concerned.

"thank you," steve hums, before turning back to principal kane. the hand he'd held up to stop his talking lowers again and he places it on his other hip. "principal kane, where is joey?"

"why, he's in class," the ruddy man replies. steve's eyebrow arches in the way it does when papa says something dumb, or when niki tries hiding something from him.

"and why is that?" he presses. "are we just allowing students to verbally harass other students now?" principal kane gulps.

"well, you know how children are -"

"i do," steve cuts in sharply. "i'm raising one. do you know how long it took me to teach her not to say fuck because it's not a nice word?" nikita stifles a giggle at the offended look that crosses her principal's face. "picked it up from her aunt," steve continues. "kids just soak these things up, you know." steve pauses to sip on his coffee, hand raising to stop the man from speaking, and then he continues. "joey's parents are bigots, i know that very well, and i'm not surprised joey's picked up on it. but if nikita here said fuck in class, you'd reprimand her for foul language, yes?" he peers through his sunglasses while principal kane nods vigorously.

"of course we would." steve nods his approval.

"i take comfort in that." the glasses come off after that, and steve leans forward to meet the shorter man's gaze. "now, if one of your students says hateful comments towards another, would you do the same thing, mister kane?" niki grins at the way her principal shifts uncomfortably.

"I - I suppose, yes," he stammers.

"you suppose," steve repeats, mean and critical. "well, in that case, if you suppose, i suggest you get to calling the carters. nikita and i are going to leave you to it." principal kane tries speaking up, but steve's already got his sunglasses back on and he holds his hand out to the smaller brunette in the room. "let's go, honey. say goodbye to principal kane." nikita hops off the chair and waves a cheery goodbye before happily walking out with her hand in her dad's.

later that night, he's reading her a story and she snuggles against his side, enjoying the gentle brush of his fingers through her curly hair, and she can't help herself.

"hey, dad?" steve stops reading, sets the book down to look down at her.

"yes, baby?" and now nikita huffs, because she doesn't know what she wants to ask. they've talked about this before, both about gender and sex, and sexuality. she knows some people think something's wrong with her dads, but she doesn't hear it often. it shakes her a little when she does.

"why are people so mean?" she settles on. steve's face falters a little.

because there's no easy answer to that, is there? he and billy have been raising her for eight years, they've been together for five of those years and have only been open about it for three. they've been talking about getting married, about having one more kid together, about moving and settling somewhere new, but he knows no matter where they go or what they do there are always going to be instances like this, people like the carters and this kane asshole. and as much as he aches to protect his baby from that, he can't.

so he and billy have taught her the importance of kindness and understanding and respect. and at just eight, she has such an understanding of those concepts. she's absolutely brilliant, and beautiful, and more precious than steve will ever be able to put into words. he studies the face that peers up at him, brushes her bangs from her face, and holds her close so he can rest his chin on her head with a sigh.

"well, kita, sometimes people are scared," he tries. "remember when papa gave you seaweed that one time we went to california?" he doesn't have to be looking to know her entire face scrunches up in disgust.

"yeah, but that was gross," she points out, making the same face steve makes when he eats something he doesn't like, trying to get the taste off her tongue. steve laughs softly.

"to you and me, yeah, but not to papa. he grew up out there so he was already used to it, but for you and me it's scary. green stuff from the sea? icky, right?" nikita nods against his chest. "well, some people haven't seen gay people before, not like papa and i and our kid living like other families. and that's new and scary. and sometimes, when people get scared, they act a certain way." steve tries thinking for another example. "like when papa brought that beetle inside and scared me, remember that?"

nikita will never forget the way her dad scrambled over the couch trying to escape the bug. she'd laughed until the beetle took flight because that really was scary. the pair had screamed around the house and steve had absolutely refused all of billy's apologies the rest of the night, huffing and pouting while nikita giggled at the sight.

"you hit him," she recalls. it hadn't been hard, just a couple of swats on the shoulder while scolding the blonde man. steve nods.

"yeah, which was mean," he agrees. "but sometimes, people get mean when they're scared. obviously, something like having two dads or liking another guy or gal isn't the same as bringing in a beetle, it's much bigger than that. and when people get mean about the bigger things, it's more than just a little hit on the shoulder."

she gets that too, as much as she doesn't like it.

nikita sighs and wraps her little arms tight around steve's waist.

"i don't want people to be mean to you," she decides, and steve knows she loves him, of course he knows, but it warms his heart to hear a reminder of it.

"i know," he sighs. "but we can't make other people be kind. we can only be kind ourselves, yeah?" the girl nods and smiles up at her father.

"you're the most kindest" she announces, and then niki rests her head against his chest again. he doesn't start reading right away, but his voice sounds a little wobbly to her when he does.

the second time principal kane has to meet with one of her dads, it's over a father's day event in class and professor kane specifically requests billy instead of steve. he shows up a little greasy from work, looks from the principal to a mother and her son, to his teary-eyed little girl, and knows there's about to be trouble.

nikita doesn't know if it's hurt tears or angry tears, but misses hartwell's words sting and she can't get them out of her head. her son jeremy's words had hurt even more, and so a now ten-year-old nikita had punched him right in the face.

"something has to be done, mister hargrove," the principal says. amy hartwell scoffs.

"something indeed. we'll be pressing charges, that's what will be done." billy fixes her with a glare.

"you're gonna press charges against a kid?" he questions incredulously. "i know my girl, she doesn't do that unless he messed up big time."

"my son would never do any -" the woman begins, but nikita has no time for this. she doesn't want to sit here and listen to them act like jeremy is innocent.

"he said i can't bring my dad to school because i don't have one!" she snaps, and billy almost snaps too.

"well, it's true!" jeremy shoots back from the safety of his mother's side. "tell her, mom." now amy looks usure, and principal kane shifts uncomfortably as billy's cold glare flashes to the woman.

"yeah, tell her," he repeats, low and threatening. "better yet, tell me." amy shifts her weight and steps back.

"well, everyone in town knows her mother got pregnant in some indianapolis bar," she has the audacity to say. "the girl's never met her real father." nikita opens her mouth ready to protest and hurl insults, but billy speaks first.

"nikita doesn't have a mother," he growls. "her father gave birth to her, and i raised her. we're her dads, and she can have either of us at this little party, got it?"

"it's not healthy to feed her lies like that," amy argues, "you're poisoning her mind, it's dangerous -"

"- no," niki's dad cuts in. "what's dangerous is saying all of that within three feet of me. what's fucking dangerous is teaching your kid how to be as fucking disgusting as you."

"mister hargrove!" principal kane cuts in sharply. "i will not have you threatening misses hartwell like that!" billy turns on the man with an aggression nikita has never seen from her pa, a wild gleam in his glare and his lips set in a snarl. the principal shrinks back.

"what a time to grow a spine," he bites. "you've let her walk all over my boyfriend and i, i'll say whatever the hell i want." principal kane looks a little scared, backs down pretty quickly. but billy is on a roll. "i know how this works. you think steve and i don't know what assholes like you say behind our backs? huh? well, we do. and it's fucking ridiculous. steve has more balls than you-" an accusatory finger gets thrown in principal kane's face - "and more class than anyone in this stupid hick town is capable of. and you know what? i get it, we can't stop you from being ignorant dicks. but what i can do, and what i will do, is step in when someone brings this shit to my little girl. do you get that?" billy's yelling stops and both adults look at him wide-eyed with shock. jeremy looks scared, and niki thinks he should be. with a decisive nod, billy ends the conversation, he scoops niki up after that and she can feel him shaking as she hides in the safety of the crook of his neck. "you wanna sue us? sue us. we'll return the goddamn favor, trust me." and he stomps out to his car and just stands out there for a little while, clinging to nikita until she stops sniffling.

they don't really talk on the way home, and when they both enter the house steve looks a little confused.

"aren't you both supposed to be places?" he asks, but the little tease in his expression fades into worry as he gets a better look at them. billy leans in and kisses niki's forehead chaste and soft.

"go get changed," he mutters, which she knows is actually code for when he doesn't want her listening to their conversation. she obliges and disappears up the stairs she's known her whole life, right up to her room where she gets more comfortable clothes. she hears steve yell, "she what?" at some point, but mostly the pair are quiet. when nikita does tiptoe down the stairs eventually, they're in the kitchen, her papa's face buried against her dad's neck while they whisper to each other. it looks like billy's shaking again, but she can't tell.

steve catches her after a minute and kisses the top of billy's head before calling her over and holding her tight. "i'm sorry you had to deal with that stuff today," he offers, mumbled partially into her her hair. she remembers the things he said about mean people and clutches onto him a little tighter.

that night, aunt max and uncle dustin come by for dinner and take her out for ice cream, and when she comes home steve gives her a bubble bath with extra bubbles. she doesn't love letting him bathe her all the time, but sometimes it's fun, especially when he does extra bubbles. he finishes and dries her off and takes his time with her hair, and before long she's just about ready for bed.

her parents work her through the nightly routine, and they tuck her in to bed together like they do every night one of them isn't working late. but after steve plants his pattern of kisses on her face and leaves, billy stays. he sits on the edge of her bed and looks a little unsure, which is strange because as far as niki knows, he always knows what to do.

"honey," he starts. "you know what they said today isn't true, right?" nikita nods easily.

"yeah. dad's my dad and you're my pops." nikita knows, to some degree, how she came to be. she knows steve didn't have her with billy like that. but never once has she ever had to doubt her family, and no one's dared do it to her face. not before today.

"okay, good." billy nods, reaching a hand out and rubbing her shoulder. "people like misses hartwell and her kid, they don't - they don't get it. and i'm so sorry that you had to hear it, and that you had to hear me yell like that."

"and say all those words dad tells you not to?" she adds quietly. billy breathes out a laugh.

"and hear me say all those words dad tells me not to say," he agrees. it gets a laugh out of nikita, much to billy's relief, and he leans forward to hold her by both her shoulders now. "i'm serious, babycakes. i don't care what people like that say. you're my baby, you hear me? always mine."

"always yours," she echoes, leaning forward and throwing her arms around him in a hug. billy plants as many kisses as he can manage on her head and face, before laying her back down and adjusting her covers.

"i love you, green bean," he tells her, and she murmurs in kind before watching him move to the door. he pauses when he gets there, then turns to her sheepishly.

"hey, about the bad words," he hums. "i won't say anything about it to dad if you won't. deal?" nikita makes a thoughtful face.

"can i have ice cream and a kitten?" he snorts at that.

"you have several kittens, baby. but ice cream is doable."

and when amy hartwell knocks on the door the next afternoon talking about billy's offensive language, he only gets a claim of innocence from his boyfriend and a confused look from his daughter who doesn't recall a single bad word from the meeting. steve looks back at the woman and misses the grin nikita shares with billy as she chomps on a bite of ice cream.

[nastybuckybarnes]

Jolly Sailor Bold

Pairing: Pirate!Peter Parker X Mermaid!Reader

Summary: Pirates once ruled the seas, and they’re wanting that power back. All that stands in the way are Mermaids and Sirens. For all of history the two have been slaughtering each other with no remorse. So what is it about you that’s so intriguing to Peter? And why do you, in turn, find yourself wanting to protect the sailor?

Warnings: Language, Old Language, Slow burn, Angst, Pirates, Violence, 

Word Count: 6.5K

A/n: So plot twist I’ve already worked 40 hours this week so I’m a little behind with my writing but you guys can have this while I finish up some other things. Happy Ficmas!!! 

Peter Parker IS AGED UP IN THIS 

~*~

Inspired by ‘Prates of the Caribbean: On Stranger Tides’ and FreeForm’s ‘Siren’

“Upon one summer's morning I carefully did stray Down by the Walls of Wapping Where I met a sailor gay”

‘Beneath the surface of the water, past the line of the reef, lies a danger beyond any man’s comprehension. A danger concealed by soft skin, enticing eyes, and a melody that lulls sailors and pulls them from their ships to the depths of the ocean. The creatures, beautiful in appearance, roam the depths of the seas, living in deeper oceanic waters during the times of tired men, when the victim count is lower.

Female as they appear, deadly as they are, enchanting as they sound, they are often confused with their close relatives. But Mermaids be far worse than the Siren’s they’re confused with.

Upon a glance they seem similar, side by side the naked eye may not be able to tell them apart. But the one thing that separates these creatures is the undeniable bloodlust that Sirens feel, contorting their once beautiful faces to a hideous mask that never leaves. The hunger whenever they smell human blood. While mermaids are more equipped to handle the hunger, better at concealing it, the sirens show no shame in claiming men, in giving in to their animalistic desires and draining the life of a helpless sailor.

Mermaids appear a more peaceful creature, although deadly. Hardly capable of refusing the smell of fresh blood, they only seem serene on the outside. Below the surface lies teeth sharper than sharks, a voice that can command and compel the strongest minds, and a strong body that is capable of destroying a thousand ships.

Sailors beware, Pirates be warned, for the mermaids are ruthless. Heaven forbid ye ever fall into their path for they will grant no mercy. Pray a Siren finds you and ends you quickly, for her looks will be none too pleasing, but a mermaid will distract and drain, her eyes alight with desire, as she deludes yer weak-willed mind. So swords high, guns aimed, and never look at a dame in the water, for that will be yer undoing!’

“I see you’re trying to scare my new crew member, Buck!” A blond-haired man slaps the brunet’s shoulder, smiling warmly at the young man he was talking to. “Who might you be sailor?”

The boy looks down timidly. “P-Peter. Peter Parker,” he says quietly. “Well Parker, I’m Captain Rogers, this is my first mate Bucky. We’re happy to have you aboard!” Peter nods enthusiastically and gets up from the stairs leading to the forecastle.

“Well kid, go make yourself useful. And remember what I said. If you see a woman in the water, do not look at her. You find someone who’s good with a gun and shove Seaweed into your ears. Don’t let her sing. If she sings you’re done for.” The boy swallows hard and nods again, watching as Bucky walks away and takes the helm.

He leans over the thick wooden side beams and looks out across the water, his eyes scanning for anything unusual. A sudden pat on his back startles him and he whips around, clutching his chest. “Woah, calm down Parker. It’s just me,” Ned says softly, looking around then leaning against the side beams as Peter was.

“So, how’s it feel to be a real sailor? I mean we’re basically pirates now.” Peter snorts and looks out across the water again. “I feel like Pirate is a term used by those who fear people who go and get what they want. We may be Pirates, but it’s not like we’re bad people,” Peter says softly. Ned nods, looking around with a smile on his face. “You know Captain Rogers’ first mate Bucky? He was telling me about the dangers of the sea. Mermaids and Sirens. Do you... do you believe in any of that stuff?” He asks.

Ned looks over at his friend and shrugs. “I mean, we hardly know anything about what’s under the water. There’s probably something.” Peter bites his bottom lip and shakes his head no.

“I’ve heard stories you know,” he begins, “of people who survived attacks, saying they remember beautiful voices and enchanting looks. I think it could be true. I just hope we don’t come across anything like that.”

Ned shrugs then walks away, finding something to keep himself busy as they sail to deeper waters.

~

“Okay lads! We’ve made it out to sea! First night always ends in celebration so celebrate we will! Take what you can!” Captain Rogers calls loudly. “Give nothing back!” Bucky calls just as loud. “All of you now. Take what you can!” Rogers repeats. “Give nothing back!” The crew shouts, throwing their hats into the air and clinking their bottles of booze together as they celebrate. Peter chuckles as Ned downs a whole bottle of rum, not envying the headache he’ll surely have the next day.

He looks out across the dark water, tired after a long day at sea. He sighs and shakes his head as he thinks back to the tale Bucky told him earlier, chuckling lightly at how ridiculous it seems now. He turns away from the water, freezing in his tracks halfway through the turn. He slowly turns back and catches sight of something bobbing in the water a short distance from the ship. His eyes widen and he leans forwards, inspecting the object as it moves closer slowly.

The object stops and Peter nearly screams as it turns and dives into the water, an iridescent tail flashing above the surface for a moment. Peter glances at the bottle of alcohol in his hand and shakes his head, hurrying away from the side of the ship and down to the crew’s quarters to try and sleep off whatever alcohol is making him hallucinate.

~

The water brushes up against the ship, rocking it from side to side gently. You watch curiously as the humans cheer and drink from aboard. A young man breaks off from the group and leans over the railing, looking out across the water. You raise your head up a bit and watch him closely, your eyes widening as you make out his face.

He has curly brown hair, and light skin; his cheeks are flushed from the alcohol and his eyes are... you can’t exactly make out what colour they are. Letting your instincts pull you, you slowly move forwards, watching the man as he starts to turn away.

He suddenly stops and turns back to look directly at you. You move closer still and watch as he nearly subconsciously leans forwards. A high-pitched call gets your attention and you stop then dive under the water, desperate to find your sister, the person calling you, and tell her of your findings.

She calls out for you again and you reply, your voice deeper than hers, resonating throughout the sea and echoing off of rocks and reefs. Cutting through the water effortlessly, you spin towards the cavern the two of you share. You pull yourself up and break the surface of the little air bubble-esque cave. “Where were you?” She asks as soon as you’re inside, her voice a high keening call.

“I was exploring. I found something... someone.” She raises her eyebrows and wrings out her long raven hair. “Who? There are no mermen for miles around here. They recognize this as our area. It isn’t a siren, is it?”

You roll your eyes and shake your head no. “I didn’t meet anyone. I found people, Ariadné. Humans! They’re on a ship. I think they’re pirates.” She frowns and shakes her head. “You do know that pirates killed mom and dad, right? They should all be killed for what they did.” You sigh and lower yourself into the water again, leaning your head onto your arms.

“Not all pirates deserve to suffer for what a few did. Blackbeard and his crew were punished for their doings. We got our revenge. What more could you want?” She sighs and mimics your position. “I want them all gone. It’s enough that we don’t eat them, but they all deserve to suffer as we did. As our pod did.”

“Ariadné, what would mother say, hearing you talk with such hatred? She raised us better than this. She raised us different than the others. We have more compassion in our hearts than they do. We mustn’t lose sight of that. I understand the hurt, but we were raised to protect the humans. When our brand is on a ship, other pods of Mermaids and Sirens know not to hurt them.” Your older sister scoffs and shakes her head. 

“Our parents died because the Pirates were afraid!” You flinch away from her and she sighs. “I did not mean to frighten you. I’m just scared for you. If I lost you as well... I don’t know what I would do.” You smile gently at her and nod, leaning your head onto your arms again. “I don’t believe he saw me. I’m careful, Ariadné, I promise.” She sighs and nods once, wanting the little argument to be over with.

As your sister drifts off to sleep, your mind travels to the sailor who may have seen you earlier in the night. A pulling in your gut shoves an idea into your mind. A terribly dangerous idea that spikes your curiosity.

You glance over at your sister and, after making sure she’s sound asleep, you venture out of the cavern and swim quickly to the warmer waters closer to the surface.

Slowing as you see the large shadow of a ship, you carefully raise your head above the surface, looking around then up to the deck, trying to find the man from before. You look around carefully, smiling as you see him leaning against the railing again. He looks out across the water, his wrists crossed over each other. You tilt your head to the side curiously and swim slightly forwards.

"What're you doing up at this hour?" A voice calls from behind him. He turns and you watch as a man comes up beside him. “I... felt like I needed to come here. The water... does it ever call you?” The other man takes a deep breath then nods.

“Quite often. It’s why I do what I do. I love the water, I can’t be away from it. It’s my home now. And it can be yours too, if you’d like.” The brown-haired boy who you’ve been watching smiles.

“I’d like that, thank you, Captain.” You watch as the taller blond man pats the other man’s shoulder. “You’re a good kid, Peter. Don’t let Bucky’s tails of the sea scare you. You’re safe.” The Captain walks away, leaving Peter alone.

You risk moving closer, wanting the see more of his beautiful face. He sighs and looks at his hand before tossing something into the water not far from your head. You reach out and grab the object, frowning in confusion. It’s a very smooth rock, bright red.

You look up at him and carefully toss the rock back at him, smiling as it lands right past him, clanking on the deck.

He spins quickly and stares at the rock in disbelief before grabbing it and inspecting it. He looks out to the water, his eyes finding you again.

“You again?” He asks in a whisper. You slowly swim forwards and raise your shoulders out of the water. “Am I hallucinating? Are you... real?”

You stifle a giggle as he battles with himself. He glances down at the rock in his hand then back up to you, an idea popping into his head. He tosses the rock at you and you catch it before it hits your head.

“You are Peter,” you state, tossing to rock back to him. He freezes at the sound of your voice, the rock hitting him in the chest then falling onto the railing.

“You-you can talk. Your voice is... wow.” You smile brilliantly up at him and he slowly steps back. “I need... where’s Bucky. Oh, Gods, I need to find Bucky.” He shoves his fingers in his ears and runs away from the side, the rock tumbling into the water. You frown and grab it then swim back to the cavern where your older sister is sleeping.

~

“Dude, slow down! What happened?” Ned asks from the empty crew’s quarters. Peter looks around then grans Ned’s hand. “I saw a flipping... woman. In the water. She talked to me. I threw a rock at her and she caught it and threw it back. She... I... I swear- Ned, don’t look at me like that! I’m not crazy!” Ned holds his hands up in surrender. “I never said you were. I just... I think maybe the saltwater is getting to your brain a little bit.” Peter scoffs and turns away from his friend.

“I know what I saw. What I heard. She’s out there.” Ned nods slowly, “okay, then why didn't she eat you? Why didn’t she sing? You said she spoke to you but didn't sing. That doesn’t sound like mermaid behaviour.” Peter furrows his brows. “Maybe she... maybe she isn’t like the others. Maybe she’s different. Doesn’t hurt men.” Ned scoffs incredulously, shaking his head no.

“I can’t believe I’m friends with a lunatic. You know, people like you are where all those bad rumours about Pirates and Sailors come from.” Peter sighs and gets up, walking away from his friend and back up to the main deck to look in the water again, desperate to find any proof that he actually saw a woman... a mermaid. That he heard one.

‘You are Peter.’ It replays in his mind over and over, the melodic yet somewhat deep voice that has been haunting him ever since it happened.

Peter takes a deep breath and walks towards the helm, finding Bucky right where he thought he’d be.

“You alright Sailor? You look like you’ve seen a sea witch,” Bucky says while patting Peter on that back. Peter looks up at the man with a weak smile. “Mister Bucky, Sir... do you actually believe in Mermaids and Sirens? Or was that just you trying to scare me?” Bucky sighs and looks around for a moment before rolling up his sleeve.

“It’s how I lost my arm. Why I’ve been so apprehensive on these waters. Not far from here... a storm was brewing. We briefly lost control and a few of us fell overboard. I was one of them.” Peter waits patiently for Bucky to continue.

“They were waiting, rocking the ship with their tails. They were mermaids. Their beauty... was unparalleled. The most beautiful creatures I’ve ever seen in my life. One of them grabbed me, dragged me under the water while singing one of her bloody songs. I broke free, hardly, but as soon as I was above the water she grabbed my arm and pulled me back under, her sharp teeth locked onto my shoulder and she ripped my arm clean from my body.”

Peter stares at the metal arm in shock and slight awe. “Steve, the Captain he is, shot nearly all of them. He helped me up and we made berth in Tortuga. I got this arm and when we got back on the sea... Steve and I made a vow to kill any single one of these creatures. We lost a lot of men that day. We refuse to let anyone else get killed because of those horrible beasts.” 

Peter nods slowly then looks out to the water. “And it ain’t like Mermaids and Sirens just stick to specific waters. They live all over. Migrate with the tides or stay where they are. They live all over the world. Nowhere will be safe until they’re all gone.”

“Genocide,” Peter whispers to himself, fearing for the life of the mermaid he only met yesterday.

“Are all of them... bad like that?” Bucky shrugs, pulling his sleeve back down. “I don’t wait long enough to find out. As soon as I see a woman who ain’t drowning in these waters so far from shore, I shoot first.”

The colour drains from Peter’s face and he shakes his head trying to get rid of the strange feeling of dread that’s suddenly filling him.

“Why?” Peter looks up quickly, a forced smile on his face. “No... no reason. I was just wondering after the whole story the other day. I just want to know what to do in case I come across something so... heinous.” Bucky nods and grabs a pistol out of one of the many holsters on his body.

“Here. Keep this with you. You ever see a woman out there, don’t let her open her mouth. Shoot her and shoot her fast.” Peter slowly nods, accepting the gun and looking at it carefully. “Now go on. I’m sure there’s something else you can do. We make Berth in Nassau in a few days to gather supplies.” Peter walks to the helm stairs but pauses at the top of them. “What kind of supplies?” Bucky grins, “we’re off to find something special."

~

You watch the ship from afar, holding the red rock tightly in your right hand as you think of Peter. A hiss from behind you gets your attention and you spin quickly, relaxing as you see who it is. The Siren lets out a high pitched cry, asking what you’re doing. You reply in the same tongue.

“A boy on the ship,” you begin in a keen, “he is interesting.” She shakes her head and grabs onto your arm, her scaly face scrunched up with fear and mistrust. “He saw me yesterday and he did not hurt me.” She shakes her head again and pulls you under the water, swimming quickly away from the surface with you right behind her. “Ryn! Ryn wait! Where are you goin?” You ask. She halts just underneath a deep-sea reef, her hands coming up to her face.

“Does Ariadné know that you’ve been sneaking around near humans? Pirates none the less? She’ll kill you herself if she finds out!” You sigh wistfully and roll your eyes. 

“You do not understand. He... he is different.” She scoffs. “You don’t even know him. He is a pirate. If any of them see you you’ll be dead in moments. You know that.” You look down and nod slowly. She cups your cheeks and lifts your head, smiling with her pointed teeth. “C’mon. Let’s go find something big to catch. I’m in the mood for a challenge.”

She pulls you forwards, swimming quickly while calling out, listening for any echoes or replies to clue her into the whereabouts of a large fish, preferable a swordfish or young shark. 

She suddenly perks up, the stabilizing wings on the sides of her tail flattening against her tail then shooting straight out as the gills on her neck move swiftly, taking in oxygenated water and disagreeing with everything else. She speeds off in the direction of the hunt and you follow, moving ahead of her as you catch the scent of a young adult great white shark. Your tail forces the water away from you, pushing you forwards.

Ryn comes up beside you and glances over at you, her sharp teeth bared and her once white eyes now fully purple with the promise of a meal. You slow down as you see the shark, your enhanced eyes finding it a few miles away. “Let’s have some fun,” Ryn says while swimming directly at the shark. You smile and swim after her, chasing her as she chases the shark.

It’s terrified. You can smell it. It turns around after a few more minutes of chase and you grin at the challenge it’s presenting. It snaps its jaws at Ryn and she squeals, moving out of the way as the fifteen-foot great white shark swims after her. You jump in, grabbing the shark’s dorsal fin and digging your nails into its side. It turns it’s head as much as it can and tries to snap at you. Ryn uses its distracted state and bites into its neck, tearing out a chunk of meat. You quickly do the same, catching some of its gills. It slowly stops struggling, bleeding out. You take another bite out of it, taking your time and eating the shark with Ryn.

“Save some for your sister. She hasn’t hunted today. She could use some food.” You nod and look around, hearing the calls of nearby Mermaids and Sirens as they smell the shark carcass.

“We should go before we need to fight for our catch,” you say, ripping a large chunk of meat off of the shark and swimming away from it as the calls get closer. Ryn grabs a chunk and swims after you, giggling happily.

“You’re back. I thought for sure you would’ve gone with the humans by now,” your sister says sarcastically, a relieved smile on her face. You nod and offer her the shark chunk. She smiles and takes it from you graciously. “Have you heard?” Ryn asks after a moment of silence. You look over at her with a frown, hoping she’s not going to tell your sister about the whole Pirate fiasco.

“I hear Pirates are going to Nassau to stock up then they’re going to find a kind of ancient treasure. Knowing them it’s probably a dead end.” You nod your agreement and sigh, thinking about the brown-eyed pirate boy. 

“I hear with the moon coming they may not make it. The Sirens want them and they’re not stopping this time,” Ariadné muses around a mouthful of shark. You frown at her, “we must brand the boat then. Protect the sailors.” Ariadné and Ryn both look at you as if you’ve grown a second head.

“Why would we do that? They go out of their way to find us and kill us. Let them be claimed by the Sirens,” your sister says carelessly. You slap your tail against the water and glare at her.

“That is not how we were raised! We aren’t careless creatures. We are not ruthless hunters! We help. Protect! You forget about that,” your voice trails off and you look at the two expectantly.

“Nothing. So that’s just it?! You leave them to be killed?” They both slowly nod. “Not me. I will not. I cannot.” With that you turn and swim out of the cavern quickly, your eyes hurting. Your sister and Ryn call out for you, their cries echoing in the deep sea. You roll your eyes and search for the old cave where your parents raised you.

~

“The full moon is coming. The sea has been too quiet these past few days. I fear the worst,” Steve says to his first mate. Bucky sighs and looks around the Captain’s quarters. “Tonight, isn’t it?” He asks, remembering the strange conversation he had with Peter a few days ago. 

“Yes. As the sun sets I fear we won’t live till morning.” Steve stands up and walks to the door. “Do not alert the men except those who know the dangers that lurk in these waters. We will need someone on watch tonight. I’ll take aft, you take astern. Find someone for Starboard and Port. Leave no section unmanned.” Bucky nods, knowing the first person he’ll get to watch.

“Parker, I have a task for you.” The young man looks up from his book as Bucky walks to the helm stairs. “Yes sir?” The metal-armed man sighs and looks around.

“Tonight is the full moon. The most dangerous time of the month. I would like you to be in charge of watching the starboard side of the ship tonight. You see anything, you shoot it then report to me. Understood?” Peter nods his head frantically, stuffing his book under the stairs and getting up.

“The winds are in our favour tonight. We should reach Nassau by dusk tomorrow,” Bucky says while walking away to take his own post. Peter leans over the rail and stares into the water, looking for any sign of anything resembling the woman he saw a few nights prior.

~

You carefully press the shell against the back bottom of the ship, burning your family’s brand into it. A shrill cry from behind you nearly makes you drop the shell. You look over your shoulder and bare your teeth, hissing at the Siren behind you. 

She balls her fists and cries again, clearly frustrated with your claim on the ship. You hiss again and move away from the ship, claiming your space further. She reluctantly turns and swims away, crying out every now and then to let other Siren’s know of the change in plans.

You’re suddenly thrust away from the ship, sharp nails raking down through the brand. You hiss at the person, recoiling as you see who it is. “I told you to leave the Pirates alone!” Your older sister snarls, her voice still melodic. 

The Siren stops and looks back, intrigued by whatever’s happening. “And I told you that I will not!” Your voice is threatening. “I can’t believe you. These people have taken everything from you. Your mother and father. Some of your friends. I will not have you defend them!” She grabs your arms and you wail loudly as her nails dig into your skin.

The Siren circles back to the ship and is quick to scratch the brand fully off. “No!” You thrust your elbow back and catch your sister in the ribs. She falls back and watches you in shock as you swim quickly to the Siren, grabbing her hair and slamming her head against the ship. She cries out and holds her heard, snarling at you. You dig your nails into her throat, slicing one of her gills. She shoves herself away from you and swims away quickly, clutching her neck.

“You are a fool!” Your sister exclaims. You turn to her and bare your teeth. “I will not have you ruining my chances of saving innocent men!” She chuckles and looks at the ship. watches as it rocks in the waves.

“How do you know they’re innocent? How do you know that they do not slaughter us and our sisters? You don't! Do not go and defend people when you do not know their actions!” You shove her shoulders again. “And do not go and kill people without knowing their actions! If you do it makes you no better than them!” She stares you down then looks up, watching as the ship sways some more.

“I will not go out of my way to defend people who have killed my family. If you wish to that is your choice. But if you get hurt do not come crying to me.” She turns and swims away from you, shunning you from what’s left of your family. You cry softly, high pitched and sad, but your sister doesn’t so much as flinch. You look down for a moment, saddened by the fact that you’ve lost the remainder of your family.

~

Peter looks out across the water, darkened by the fallen sun but lit up by the stars and full moon. All throughout the night, he’s been hearing light calls that sound similar to whales and he’s kept his gun high.

A rock suddenly hits his chest lightly, surprising him. He looks around the ship but upon finding no one, shrugs and looks back at the rock, his eyebrows jumping almost off of his face. The exact same red rock that he lost in the water a few nights before is lying right on the rail in front of him. He looks out into the water, searching for you.

Little does he know that you’re just below the surface, your eyes on the gun in his hand.

He glances at the rock again and carefully picks it up, placing the gun down and tossing the rock back into the water. You raise your head out and catch the rock, smiling gently as Peter looks at you. “It’s you,” he whispers, recognizing you. He glances up at the moon as Bucky’s words bounce around in his head then grabs the gun, aiming it at you.

The smile falls from your face and you watch as Peter seems to fight an internal battle. You look down at the rock in your hand then back up at Peter, holding the rock up for him to see. He opens his hand and you toss the rock to him. He holds it in his hand carefully then looks at you, noticing how you’re staring at the gun. He gently sets it down and offers you the rock again.

You catch it and swim forwards a bit, keeping your senses on high alert for any hostile movement from under the water or above.

He glances over his shoulder, noticing the man keeping watch on the port side is fast asleep and Bucky and Steve are nowhere to be found. He looks back at you, surprised to see you so much closer.

“Are you going to hurt us?” He finds himself asking the question before he can think. You’re surprised by him directly talking to you. “I don’t hurt,” you reply. Peter nods, entranced by your voice.

“Do you have a name?” You smile up at him, lifting your shoulders out of the water. “Yes. I am (Y/n).” He tests the name and grins. “I-I’m Peter.” You giggle lightly, the sound dazing Peter.

“I know,” you whisper. He blushes and looks over his shoulder. “If you’re not going to hurt us... why are you here?” You look down at the water for a moment then back up to him. “Because I am intrigued. You are humans. I have never... met a human.” Peter nods slowly, trying to understand why you’d want to meet a human.

“Well, look you can’t be up here. The others aren’t like me. They see you and they won’t wait for you to explain. They’ll kill you in cold blood.” You tilt your head to the side.

“But not you?”

He shakes his head ‘no’ and smiles lightly. “Not me. I haven’t been raised like them. Your kind hasn’t given me any reason to want to hate you.” You find yourself in awe of his spirit. “You need to go though. If anyone sees you... you’ll be in trouble.” You swim back a bit then look up into his eyes. “Will I see you again?” You ask desperately.

He looks over his shoulder, his eyes widening as he sees Bucky emerge from the Captain’s quarters. “Peter?” You ask. He looks back at you then at the rock in his hand. “We make port in Nassau by tomorrow night. I’ll walk along the beach and find a doc. Leave the rock somewhere you can go and I’ll find you.” He tosses the rock to you and you catch it, ducking under the water and swimming away quickly.

“Parker? Is there something there?” Bucky asks, jogging to his side quickly. Peter looks at the man and shakes his head no. “I... I just thought I saw something. I threw a rock at it and it was nothing though. Can... is there any way I’d be able to switch shifts? I think my eyes are playing tricks on me. I need to get some sleep.” Bucky pats his shoulder and nods.

“You go get some shuteye, I’ll take over for you.” The young man glances across the water again then heads away from the rail and below deck to the crew’s quarters.

~

“Alright, everyone. Make quick work of rowing to shore. We don’t want to be in the deeper waters for longer than we must,” Steve says, taking the first of a few longboats.

“I’ll... I’ll catch up. I want to gather my thoughts,” Peter says as the second last boat goes. “You’re alright rowing by yourself?” Bucky asks from inside the longboat. Peter nods, needing time to himself. Bucky nods and rows away with the boat full of people, leaving Peter to himself.

After a few moments he lowers the longboat then jumps in, grabbing the oars and slowly rowing towards the shore.

“Peter,” you whisper while breaking the surface right beside him. “Jesus!” He tosses the oar half a foot away from him and nearly tips the boat over in his state of fright. “I am sorry. I did not mean to scare.” 

He looks at you then does a double-take, your beauty so much more enchanting in the daylight. “(Y/n)...” You rest your arms on the side of the boat and look up at him. “Yes, Peter?” He simply stares at you, taking in your form for the first time up close, enjoying your strangely accented voice.

Your eyes are a striking shade of (y/e/c), brilliant and bright. Your skin, smooth and (s/c) is covered in iridescent scales. The scales are light on your face, only on your jawline and by your hairline, not covering your face. On your neck, they gradually get more concentrated and underneath your collarbones, they cover you like a skin-tight suit.

Peter slowly leans forwards, his eyes moving down past the edge of the boat and into the clear water where your tail would be. “Peter?” His eyes snap back up to your face and he backs up a bit. “You’re out... It’s bright outside. Someone could see you.” You look around then back up to him. “I have never been this close to a human before,” You whisper, raising a hand off of the boat and slowly extending it towards him.

“Can I touch?” He looks at the webbing between your scaly fingers and the stabilizing wings on your forearm then nods, looking to your eyes as you run your fingers over his shirt, feeling the fabric carefully. “It is soft,” you whisper after a moment, looking back up to his eyes. He nods then looks towards the dock. “I need to go to shore. They’ll be waiting.” You frown and pull your hand back.

“We’re staying here for a few days. Then we’ll be back on the water.” You nod your understanding and bite your bottom lip. You slowly move away from the boat and head swim backwards. 

“Bye Bye Peter.” You turn around. “Wait! Will I see you again?” He asks. You smile to yourself and raise one of your hands out of the water. “I leave the rock where I will be.” He smiles and watches as you submerge yourself, your tail flicking above the water as you swim away.

~

“Tonight, good men, we splurge! Find a dame, a woman. Let yourselves go! We leave in a few days so enjoy yourselves!” Steve cries, his arm around a brown-haired woman with a British accent. Bucky is with a different brown-haired woman, this one voluptuous. “Don’t expect to see us around anytime soon either,” Bucky adds while kissing the woman.

Peter turns away and walks out of the bar and down to the beach, sitting in the sand as the moon shines down brightly, a warm breeze blowing through his curly brown hair. He looks down either side of the beach, stopping as his eyes rest on a pair of legs on the dry sand. He follows the legs and stops on the face, his heart stuttering. 

He runs through the sand, probably looking ridiculous, and slows when he nears you. 

You’re lying on the sand, unconscious and naked. 

He pulls his sweater off and drapes it over your body before carefully shaking your arm. “(Y/n)?” Your breathing is heavy and it concerns him a bit, the concert getting shoved away as you slowly open your eyes.

“Peter?” You ask softly, pushing yourself up onto your forearms. The sweater falls off of your skin and Peter blushes, pick it up and draping it over your shoulders. “How... how do you have legs?” He asks, his fingers hovering over them for a moment before he pulls his hand back. “Mermaid can be human out of water.” He nods and looks around.

“You stay here. I’m gonna go grab you some clothes. Then we’ll... take it from there, okay?” You nod your head yes and watch him with wide eyes as he stands up and walks away from the beach. You look down at your own legs and wiggle your toes, giggling a little at the feel of it. You dig your feet into the sand and throw your head back laughing at the tickling feeling of the sand between your toes.

Peter hears your tinkling laugh and can’t help but smile, wondering what’s causing it. He grabs some clothes from a store with no one watching and hurries back to you.

“Here, I got you some pants that looked your size and I figured you could keep my sweater.” You look up at him with a smile on your face. “Peter is kind. Why?” He hands you the clothes and shrugs, “because (Y/n) is kind.” Your eyes soften and you look away, down to the clothes. 

“Can Peter help (Y/n)? Please?” Peter nods and takes the pants from your hands, straightening them then gently taking one of your ankles and putting it through the leg hole. He does the same on the other leg then takes your hands and brings them to his shoulders.

“I’m going to stand up with you. Hold onto me.” You nod and let him pull you to a standing position. His hands grab the waistband of the comfortably tight pants and he pulls them up all the way, a fiery blush staining his cheeks the entire time. His fingers rest on your waist for a moment before he pulls them away to help you into the sweater. 

As soon as it’s on properly you grab his hand and look at it closely, your eyes flashing to his as you rest your hand against his. He stays perfectly still as you bring your other hand to his chest, his shirt unbuttoned and open. Your hand rests on his bare skin, tracing over the crisp lines of his muscles.

“Peter is soft,” you whisper, your fingers trailing down lightly below his bellybutton, following the line of hair until you get to his pants. “Yeah, my skin is soft. So is yours.” 

You smile, “(y/n) is soft too?” He chuckles and brings his hand up to your face, his fingers lightly tracing your cheek and down your neck. “Yes. (Y/n) is very soft.” You close your eyes as Peter’s hands move down your neck. He pulls away only to grab your waist, his fingers pressing into the soft skin under the sweater. 

“So soft,” he mutters. You sigh and slowly open your eyes. “Will Peter tell (Y/n) about humans?” You ask quietly, looking up into his soft brown eyes. “Uh... sure. W-What do you wanna know?” You bring your hands to his shoulders and usher him down to the sand. “Everything.”

Peter lies down on the sand with you beside him, your hands in his as he tells you everything you want to know.

[straydawg-writing]

𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐞𝐞'𝐬 𝐚 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐦.

- 𝓚. 𝙯𝙤𝙡𝙙𝙮𝙘𝙠

• hunter x hunter series

⋯✰⋯

Chapter 3—

"Don't they have anything at least a LITTLE flattering? I get they're like hippie-extremists, but not all of us want to look like a sack of potatoes," you complained, swiping through their clothing racks that screamed no-potential-whatsoever.

You'd finally arrived at NGL headquarters, only for them to make the three of you throw out your phones and clothes. It's like they were still living in the 18th century.

"It's only clothes. Just pick whatever," Killua replied while browsing through the selection, though he looked equally as aggravated and bored. He did have at least some style that he wanted to upkeep.

Gon on the other hand didn't seem to care.

"You think they have anything green?" He wondered out loud.

You pulled out a set of white pants with a blue long sleeves top.

"Hey Killua."

"Yeah?"

You shoved the set into his arms, giving him a bright smile.

"Try this on, I think it would match your eyes well."

"Idiot. The Chimera Ants won't be looking at my eyes when we're fighting them." Pink dusted his cheeks as he looked to the side, avoiding eye contact.

He bought the outfit without even trying it on.

Gon pouted. "Wait, what about me?"

You pulled out two more similar sets. One was a pair of green pants and a white tank top, while the other was burgundy pants with a black top. That one was yours.

"We can all match!" You grinned, relieved you finally found something that wouldn't make you all look like homeless children. "Well, sort of." The sets were still different colors, but they retained the same general style.

"Oh, great idea Y/N! I'll go change into it now," Gon beamed, nearly skipping all the way to the changing room with his brand new green pants. It was about time he put on something different for a change, you inwardly joked.

Killua was already walking back from the stalls when Gon ran past him.

"Wow Killua, look at that drip~" You whistled, checking out his new outfit.

"You're so hopeless," he sighed, bonking the top of your head.

You rubbed where he had hit and stuck out your tongue, pretending to be hurt. It was the truth though, he looked really good in the outfit you had picked out. Peeking at him while he wasn't looking, you discovered that the tight-skinned long sleeves accentuated his arms in a way you'd never noticed before, hugging his lean muscles. You were right about the royal-colored shirt bringing out his pretty blue eyes. And the way his pale skin and white hair contrasted them even looked a little heavenly...

God, what were you thinking? If Killua heard you right now he'd hit you over the head another 20 times over. You looked to the floor, hoping he wouldn't see your growing blush.

After all three of you had changed into your new clothes, the hunt for the Chimera Ants began. Kite was on his own horse, while the rest of you fit on the second one due to your small frames. You were holding onto Gon's torso as he took control of the reins.

He was like a natural, his whole body moving in sync with the horse in strong determination. You trusted him, knowing that wouldn't just let you topple over. You weren't really used to horses, as they weren't typically found roaming around the jungle.

Then there was Killua, who was standing stick-straight on the horse like it was nothing.

"How do you even do that?!" You called out over the sound of galloping hooves.

"Huh, Do what? You mean this?" Killua smirked, doing a handstand.

You couldn't believe him. The boy had no fear at all.

"You're crazy," you stated, turning around to face Killua and leisurely leaning your back against Gon.

You had finally mastered balancing on the horse without having to hold onto him— but you had nowhere as near the skill Killua did.

"Maybe I am, but you love it," he teased, still upside-down. Temptingly enough, his white locks of hair were hanging upside-down too.

Slowly, you leaned forward on the palm of your hands, steadily closing in the distance between you two.

"Sure, I do. You got me there," you cooed, catching him off guard.

"Huh.." He sweatdropped, turning bright red. Killua's balance was starting to wobble.

Then, exploiting his moment of weakness, you tugged on his hair knocking him over.

Satisfied, you rested against Gon again. Thankfully the boy didn't seem to mind.

"Show off," You said, sticking your nose in the air.

"Man, that was so unfair!" Killua whined, sitting back down on the horse and dragging his hands down his face.

You crossed your arms, ready to deliver some witty comeback, when you noticed some bees in the distance that looked like they were carrying something. Squinting your eyes, you saw that they were flying in closer.

"Hey guys, look at that," you pointed out. The horses stopped as one of the bees dropped the paper in Kite's hand.

Help!!

Chimera Ant Nest, Rocky Area

Notify Hunter Association!!

An SOS? And it appeared to be written in blood.

You cast a worried glance at Gon, who looked disturbed.

"It's Ponzu..."

Ponzu...? The name wasn't familiar to you at all. That must be somebody Killua and Gon knew from before you had met them.

The bee fluttered defeatedly around you before making its landing on your ring finger. Kite made the decision to leave the horses, with a message for the Hunter Association.

Even though they ran faster on foot, it didn't take much time until you came across an unsettling scene.

Or, what was left of Ponzu.

Blood soaked the ground. Articles of ripped-up clothing scattered the dirt, and there was not even a bone in sight. The putrid smell of iron overwhelmed your nostrils.

It was fresh blood.

If you had arrived even 15 minutes earlier, maybe Gon and Killua's friend would not have so barbarically killed. You felt sick to your stomach.

'This wasn't done by a human'

"This was done by a Chimera Ant," Kite finished your thought.

The look on Gon's face scared you. Most of the time, Gon was a sweet boy on a journey to find his father. But sometimes, you could spot a festering darkness threatening to take over his very being. You knew he would never tolerate his friends getting hurt, but you couldn't help but wonder if Gon was self-sacrificing, or perhaps selfish?

"I hate to consider the possibility, but it's possible that NGL's underground rulers have already been fed to the queen. What will happen if Chimera Ants are born with their genes..?" Kite trailed off, studying one of the bullet casings in the murder scene.

An unprecedented biohazard never seen before in human history, is what that meant. The worst-case scenario had just happened.

⋯✰⋯

That wasn't the last disturbing scene the four of you came across. In front of you now were three decaying horses, each speared through the stomach by its own tree. They resembled grilled chicken and steak kebabs.

The scent was even worse than the last incident. This time, they were rotting. Killua and you both covered your noses, in an attempt to block out the stench.

"It's like a morning sacrifice," Gon stated.

You remembered what that was. Back at home, sometimes birds would impale their prey on sharp objects like branches. It wasn't a pretty sight, but it was the circle of life. What kind of monster could do this to not just one, but three 1,000 ton horses?

Your question was answered quicker than you had hoped.

"Trash. Those are mine!" The monster in question growled as he stepped foot out of the dense forest.

He looked like an overgrown bunny, with wings of a bird, thick-ass thighs, and seaweed green hair. And as for the vibe he gave off? You could safely assume he was just a stupid man-child.

"Wow. You're ugly," you deadpanned.

"You wanna say that again little brat?" He snarled, making the first move and charging right after you.

You quickly dodged his attack, but not before he came in contact with your arm. That was gonna leave a bruise.

Kite activated his aura, temporarily distracting the bunny-monster. It seemed to have noticed the change in atmosphere.

No way...was it possible? Had it already learned about the power of nen?

"Y/N, Gon, Killua... You three must deal with him yourselves. We'll be encountering more Chimera Ant soldiers like him. I won't be able to help you during combat, so if you can't defeat him, you will have to leave." Kite stepped back from the fight.

You nodded, Gon and Killua mirroring you. The three of you understood what hung in the fate of this fight.

"We told you before Kite, we're pros, not just kids!"

In sync, you all activated your nen together.

"Did you hear that bunny? I'm about to blow off those weird speedos of yours into the next dimension." You raised your hand in front of you, manipulating the wind to blow him away with every step that you advanced.

Killua was already in the air, prepared to test his thunder-bolt. In a flash of blue, dozens of lightning strikes were being zapped into the ant, immobilizing him. Gon's charged punch was enough to send him flying across the sky.

You saw his tail-puff shrink and sparkle in the distance as he was about to disappear, until something fast and unidentifiable swept him away.

Someone had been watching.

"He let his soldier do the fighting so that he could learn our abilities," Kite explained while walking towards the three of you again.

Gon and Killua looked disappointed. You hadn't even gotten a chance to use much of your powers during that fight. If you had finished it off, would that have been enough to prove yourselves?

"Are you coming?"

You looked up at Kite.

"There's no need to feel down, your attacks weren't that bad. You just need experience now. If you wish to become stronger, this is a perfect opportunity... But if you aren't prepared, you won't be able to endure it. Whether we win or lose, hell lies ahead of us." Kite finished off, looking at each one of you in the eye with a resolute stare.

You knew that. Gon and Killua knew that also.

Even so, all three of you were prepared and eager to do whatever it takes to strengthen yourselves and help Kite save NGL.

⋯✰⋯

Kite looked serene as the light of the small campfire lit up his features. He and Gon had caught some fish for dinner earlier, while Killua and you set up camp. Now, you sat brushing arms with Killua, who was sitting next to Gon, who was huddled up close to Kite. The night was quiet, except for the cicadas singing in the trees and the thoughts running through you and your friend's minds.

There was a lot to think about.

Gon and Killua hadn't even been given the time to grieve over the loss of their past acquaintance, before being hit with the hard-hitting truth that the Ants were already evolving at a nightmarish rate. Nobody knew how many had gone missing or even more so been eaten. Yet everyone knew that the death count had already surpassed comprehensible numbers. Most likely, not everybody here would make it out alive.

But, the three of you consistently have proven the odds wrong. You held onto that fact like you held onto your pendant.

It reassured you.

It was obvious that the three of you had become inseparable over the past two years.

After you met Gon and Killua at Heaven's Arena, you'd never left each other's side.

Nobody would be going home without the other, because you had all found home within each other.

"Hey, Kite? What was your dad like?" Gon asked.

Kite looked up at the boy, surprised by the sudden question. Turning his eyes to the starry night sky, he exhaled a breath of cold air.

"I didn't know him. He disappeared when I was a child."

Gon hummed, waiting for Kite to continue. He knew that feeling too. It was an icy and empty feeling, not having a father figure in your life to guide you, praise you.

"I have very few memories of him, but they've all muddled together by now. Sometimes I can't tell if they're real or if I've convinced myself they are."

"....I think Ging would thank you."

This brought Kite's attention back to Gon.

"Thank me for what?"

"Well... You've been like a sort of mentor for me ever since we met, back on Whale Island. If it weren't for you, I would never have even become a hunter. Maybe I'm just a kid, but the past month it felt like I.. like I had a dad."

Your heart ached for Gon, who had been searching this whole time for his father in everyone he met and everything he saw. Gently, you placed your hand over his and squeezed it, wishing you could be of more comfort to him. Wishing you could turn back time and bring Ging back to his home, to Gon.

Kite's eyes softened as he looked at the boy, who offered a wobbly smile.

"Ging would be proud of you," he said, ruffling Gon's spiky hair.

That night, the glimmering moonlight had brought out your most vulnerable selves. You felt a honey-like warmth grow inside of you— a new member had just been added to your family. Killua seemed content, happy that his friend was smiling. And Gon's eyes matched the twinkling stars as he looked up to Kite like he was the most wonderful thing.

It was a special night. You knew deep down that you would treasure it, for a long time to come.

⋯✰⋯

[tricewithaz]

yes zoyalai at the beach please!!

love the enthusiasm

(gonna mesh the last one too cause i think it applies)

So listen zoya has never been to an actual beach. shes been at harbors and ports and ships, a couple of cliffs, but never.... a beach. and Nikolai just cant accept this fact so he takes her to a beach in kerch while theyre there. its weirdly tranquil considering how hectic ketterdam is.

its not even that hot but nikolai just kinda takes half of his clothes off and zoya is kind of like ????????????

But its sweet really, when he takes off his boots and vest and pulls the hem of his pants up and just kind of gets into the water??? Zoya canr help but watch in silence cause he truly seems to be at home. He rubs water onto his hair and neck and just walks around, its lowkey calming.

She follows his example, puts her hair up and gets rid of her stockings and boots and gets into the water too. her skirt gets wet and she hates it.

and all she does its exclaim "ITS COLD" and nikolai cant do anything but laugh. He isnt used to this zoya and ots endearing, cause shes shrinking into her self and trying to walk in the water and just by the expression on her face he can tell that she hates the texture of sand.

She picks up her dress to walk on the water, and lowkey looks like a little duck

She touches seaweed. She screams. He cackles.

Its a bit chilly but zoya thinks the breeze is nice. plus it messes up nikolais hair and shirt so thats a plus.

and he looks almost boyish, like this is the best day in the life of small nikolai lantsov. theres a huge smile on his face and his cheeks and nose get a bit sunburn. Its not the first time shes seen him like that, its standard for him whenever hes in a ship, but she admires it regardless.

She uses her powers to hit him in the butt with water. he acts offended. she acts clueless. Ofc he takes his revenge and splshes her up to her waist. and then she just.... provokes a wave and soaks him whole and yes she looks at his soaked shirt for a bit too long

at some point she gives up and lets her skirt fall and it floats and she looks like a flower ✨

she walks into the water a lot and trips when she reaches that ome dip that gets deeper than before, her heart gets to her throat for a moment there. Nikolai picks her up and prevents her from falling keeping her close to his chest but not without laughing at her "it has to get deeper at some point zoya the entire ocean is like that and it just gers deeper and deeper and deeper" and hes nonchalant about it but all hes doing is freaking the both of them out more and more

textures at the beach are 🤢 and zoya is constantly screaming WHAT THE HELL WAS THAT specially when the things touching her feet are alive and sentient

They fight and wrestle Nikolai just picks zoya up and throws her into the water. she makes him dive in too. clothes and all

underwater her hair looks like a halo ✨✨✨

But they just laugh a lot while splashing each other to the point their stomachs hurt and all.

They need to get out of water at some point but they stay at the shore, sOAKED, they get full of sand and zoya hATES it so MUCH she complains a LOT and frowns and Nikolai all but looks at her with the biggest smile on his face.

they sit at the shore and build sand castles with shells and all

in fact they just kind of build the entire os alta palace and discuss everhthing like Real Architects™

When the tides come in and destroy a bit they get all fussy about it, like little kids

btw zoyas hair gets super frizzy and a lot of curls fall on her face despite her trying to keep her hair up with a hairstick. she kinda hates it cause its difficult to manage and it tangles but nikolai thinks she looks gorgeous.

while building castles he talks to her about his childhood summers at the beach. For once she doesnt comment on how he talks too much or anything, and for once he isnt snarky. He talks about his fond memories with a soft voice and sparkly eyes and she just listens in silence, with a small smile cause shell store this memory forever, as well as the other thousands of good memories she gets in her twenties. Suddenly she kind lf loves the beach.

He thinks hell talk about this afternoon too, to his children and his other friends and hell talk about how zoya much zoya complained and hated the sea. Hell keep how her curls framed her face and how she stared into the sea for himself tho.

Oh, as evening approaches she isnt frowning, in fact her expression seems quite tranquil and she smiles. Nikolai thinks that she doesnt do it often cause if she did everyone around them would faint at the sight

when the sun starts setting it reflects into his eyes and makes his hair more golden than usual and he looks so warm.

But when the setting sun frames her neck and her cheekboke nikolai understands for a minute the concept of saints.

They leave the sand palace there and the next day when other families come into the beach theyre so impressed ejejrbje

they get waffles and eat them at the wall that separates the streets from the beach observing the sunset and the sea at night. And the breeze is so nice, zoya thinks she could stay here forever. they both wish they could just live there, together

They walk the shore together hand in hand, chat a bit in the night. the reflection of the moon in the sea, in her eyes, will always be slmething he links to zoya. Her hand is cold and soft, and his is firm and warm, a big contrast to the water at her feet but its a contrast she likes.

They return a lot after the first time the go together to the beach, and zoya just kind of.... naps in the sand

Back at the embassy Nikolai brushes zoyas hair cause she just fucking hates it and she just cant deal with this rn

And her hair smells like seawater and he just kinf of combusts

The next day her skin looks a bit darker and glowier and her hair is a bit frizzy.... well you know how he feels about it.

its just a very nice experience for both of them

[dragonrajafanfiction]

Club Takamagahara (Part 3) The Main Character

Feels. If opportunities were broad sides of barges, the Devs couldn’t hit them.

I’m enjoying the heck out of this, and its not even hard to write.

Enjoy!

“MC!” Caesar’s voice startled you, even though you were awake. How could you sleep when your emotions were in such roiling turmoil?

You had just woken up in a strange place where people exploded everything that was inside themselves and doused the flames in showers of liquor. They poured it on each other, hugged, touched, screamed! If you grew up in the polar north, this was the tropics with its searing heat and blazing sun. You were calm about it, but like a sunburn, as you lay in the dark and closed your eyes the images of flashing lights and heaving bodies was turning into a strange red mark on your brain that you couldn’t ignore.

So you quickly get out of bed and open the closet.  It was Caesar. His expression was serious.

"Ten minutes, dress yourselves up, the store manager wants to see you." Caesar was once again dressed in full costume. He wasn’t wearing the same tight-fitting suit. It was replaced by a see-through silver shirt, tied a rhinestone neck scarf. The back of his tight pants wrapped his buttocks so that the muscle was visible.

“Why?” You ask, as you’re drawn out of the closet in confusion. The other boys were also dressed.

“While you were resting, we went into our interview. The Whale doesn’t want to make a decision without seeing you first.”

Your mind briefly flashes back to the Whale in Siberia. “Whale?”

Chu Zihang spoke. "Japan is surrounded by the sea on all sides, so the Japanese worship the ocean. In the sea, the whale is the most powerful animal, and whale meat is also an aphrodisiac food, so the man with the title of ‘Whale’ should be said to be the most powerful of men." 

“Here, get dressed.” Caesar had produced yet another outfit.

This Cheongsam was different, black. The chest was still covered, but your skin shined through lace roses on your chest. The skirt only barely covered the front and the back. The slits in both sides of the skirt rose all the way to the curve of your butt.

Mingfei peeked through his fingers. “Boss…”

“No time to worry about anything. You have to nail this.” Caesar said.

“Yes.” You held out your leg so he could help you into your fish nets, his fingers gently sliding up your calves and thighs.. “What do I have to do?”

“The Whale interview isn’t difficult, but it’s pass or fail. You have to open your heart to him and be as honest as you can. You can’t hold back or lie, because he’ll see through it. If he likes what he sees, he’ll let you stay.”

He stands behind you and removes the comb from your bun. The hair falls over your shoulder and he starts running a brush through it, pulling through the tangles roughly in his hurry.

“What is he going to ask?” You’re not minding his yanking. In fact, it felt nice to have your hair pulled like this. It gave you a tingly feeling in your scalp.

“I don’t know. If you do your best though, I think, you’ll be fine. But you’re very closed up. You can’t be that way in front of him. So just prepare yourself to be open.”

“Okay…” 

He turns you around. “Lu, get me the make up case.”

“Yes, boss.” 

He’s crouched in front of you, eyes sharp. His eyes search your face. “Your skin is good at least.”

You smile, but you feel nervous. He was right. Being open wasn’t your strong suit.

Lu Mingfei returns with the make up case and Caesar paints your eyes, sweeps a brush through your eyelashes and paints your lips. “I think simple is best in this situation.”

“Little sister… if you don’t feel comfortable. I understand…” Mingfei mumbled.

“I cannot do anything else, right now. If we’re thrown out, it’s over! So please just believe in me.” 

You glance up at him. Mingfei’s cheeks turn a little red. “I… Okay.”

As the four of you rise through the elevator, Caesar continues to explain to you. “The first floor is a stage and dance floor, a place for grand performances and female guests to drink and dance; the second floor is a spa and beauty salon; the third floor is a kaiseki restaurant called "Barnacles" and a tea house. The retired performers have their own suites on the third floor. We can only live in the basement as interns.  Well, it’s more accurate to say that we live in that bathroom.”

“No wonder you’re always bathing.” Your heart is leaping in your chest, but you stay calm on the outside, ever humorous.

“The fourth floor is off limits. Only those invited by the store manager can set foot here. They call it The Sea.”

You step out of the elevator. Fourth Floor.

Doors painted with blue acacia flowers opened one after another and, by each door stood tall, sturdy, black-clad bodyguards. You clasp your hands in front of you, just like you did for the man in the striped suit. Just like the high school student in the manga, you keep your eyelashes low, and your back straight. Only now there was no breeze to lift your skirt or hair.

Of course, the giant whale should live in The Sea, so this whole floor is the residence of the store manager. The main color of the whole floor is sea blue -- sea blue walls, sea blue carpets, sea blue curtains, even the table porcelain are sea blue. The bodyguards have turtles, starfish, and sea crabs tattooed on their bald heads.

In front of the last aquamarine door, a man, tall with a body overflowing with mounds of fat, stood. If this was the sea, and you were going to meet a whale, this man was truly like a male seal. The Baikal Seals live in Russia, in the great lake. They could reach five feet and length and weigh 290 pounds. But this man was far bigger than even the biggest seal you’d ever seen. You look up at him, jaw dropping. This man would probably rule the beaches of Baikal as a seal!

He looked down at you. “The only way to impress the store manager is to show your true self.” He rumbled. “I have never seen a woman do this before. So who knows what might happen? But it will be a clash of heart upon heart. If your woman’s heart can reach him then…”

The Seal Man trailed off into silence and stepped to one side.

The last door slowly swung in. The fresh scent of seaweed comes to your nose, and your ears are full of the sound of water, as if you were facing the undulating sea. 

Behind the door was a rotunda, with a huge ring-shaped transparent fish tank as the wall. Clusters of soft coral grew on the rocks. Sea grass swayed in the artificial waves. Sea turtles slowly floated up, to just touch their noses to the surface. The two-meter long tiger shark has swam around the hall. 

The ocean… again. You think bitterly. The Arctic Sea, then the Deep Sea of Japan, and now this? Most people were overwhelmed by the sight of such a magnificent office. After all, the amount of money to maintain something like this had to exceed the yearly salary of an ordinary person every month! But your eyes grow cold and your frown with annoyance. You’re sick of the ocean.

The hall was very open, with two rows of bookshelves behind an oversized desk. In the light sat a stout man that reminded you of a giant bear. His whole body bathed in aquamarine - from his aquamarine satin suit to his aquamarine leather shoes, with a huge aquamarine ring on his ring finger and a red coral brooch on his chest. He sat on an aquamarine velvet sofa, smoking a thick Churchill cigar, gently stroking a famous breed of Himalayan cat, and shaking a cup of golden alcohol on the rocks, which reflected a splendid light. 

True to his name, the store manager Whale is even more dominant when he appears in private marine settings. He wore huge sunglasses. The top of his head shined like bright tile. Were it not for the blue whale tattooed on the side of his head, you would have thought that he too was part of the yakuza. But seeing it took away from the seriousness of it all.

He looks at you and quirks a single eyebrow. He eyes you up and down once and then nods, looking over to Caesar, Zihang, and Mingfei. “It looks like you weren’t kidding me about her.”

What did Caesar say? You wonder and glance over your shoulder, but the three men were already moving to the aquamarine sofas near the glass walls.

This was it. You take a deep breath. Whatever the question, you would answer with your truth. No matter how difficult, no matter how dark, no matter how cold. If he didn’t like it? Tough. Such rich and privileged men could rarely handle a truth, especially a woman’s truth. Such was reality. You doubted this sort of tactic would let you win, but you had to trust Caesar.

And yourself.

The Whale picked up a brush and dipped it in ink. Instead of writing he froze, looking up at you once again. His eyes behind the tint met your cold challenging ones. He slowly lifted the brush, looked down at a small parchment.

He wrote in quick elegant calligraphy, two characters which he held up for all to see. “Lost Love.”

“Ms. MC. The question I am asking you is about lost love.”

You inhale sharply through your nose and your eyes widen. You’d opened your heart and now, it was like he had taken a long sword and run you through with it! Your ears tingle. Your eyes burn. Your hands, still clasped in front of you, jerk tighter to dig your nails in, a reflex to stem the emotional pain.

“In this line of work, we deal with many women who have no love or have never experienced it. Caesar says you have never experienced the love of a man. So tell me. What can you say about Lost Love?”

Your mouth opens but nothing comes out. The memories spiral up from your heart and through your mind like a long sleeping geyser that had finally erupted, flooding your body and rendering you speechless.

The darkness of the winter solstice comes again, but it’s midday in the arctic. So the pale blush of the reminder of sun was just starting to appear on the low horizon. The sky is full of stars. The green aurora dances over head like a parade. The lighthouse in the distance peals its church-like bell, slowly rotating its sword of light though the thick night air. A flock of white snow geese pass by, in V formation, calling encouragement to each other on the journey.

Renata is sitting alone on stones swept free from the fallen dry snow. Her blond hair is tucked up in her fur lined hood and her body is covered head to toe in the thick coat that was patched over and over in many colors. 

Your breath fogs in front of your face as you sigh and make your way up.

A whale always passed by here this time of day on Christmas. It was a secret you shared only with her and you came up here every year to see it. As you go to sit down next to her, the whale appears, a black shadow moving under the ice.

“Make a wish.” She whispers.

Normally, people wished on stars. But the stars were frozen and inert in the sky, stuck here, just like you. The whale, however, was free to roam as it liked. It had the power to make dreams come true.

After a moment, Renata looked up at you, her pale blue eyes sparkling. Her skin was good, her lips bright and her cheeks flushed against the winter frost. “What did you wish for?”

“The same thing I wish for every year.” You reply warmly.  “I want to be just like the whale. To be free and live in the ocean."

Renata grins and giggles. "If that day ever comes, I hope that I'll be standing right next to you. I'm very happy to have you... by my side.”

Your breath suddenly flies from your lungs and your eyes rise again to the sea of blue around you. The fish, the shark, the coral and the tortoises. It is just like you were once again miles under the sea. 

Your hand goes over your mouth.

You’re speaking with a whale.

“Renata…” Your voice squeaks and your knees shake.

Whale doesn’t understand your words and his confused look brings you back to earth. But you can’t school your expression. You feel like you’re bleeding out and you can’t stop it. Your mind is in a daze of joy and pain. Even though your eyes are swimming with tears, the joy stretches your face into a rapturous smile!

You were swimming free, like the whale in the ocean. You’ve been to the big city. And even though you could no longer hear her voice, you can feel her with you, like a shadow that held the warmth of her hand in yours. Never had it been so strong as now.

“Lost Love?” You look him with this blaze of emotions pouring from your cold dark eyes. “Oh, Whale… there’s no such thing!”

The Whale’s jaw drops. His hand goes limp. The ink brush drops from his hand and falls to the carpet, spraying the ink on his aquamarine shoes.

For a moment, there is silence. And then a wail, like a roar of an injured beast!

The fat man who had greeted you is weeping openly, one arm over his eyes. He’s moaning out something in Japanese that you don’t understand.

Lu Mingfei quietly translates. “That guy's name is Fujiwara Kanousuke. Before he went to The Sea to become a male performer he was a Daiguan-level sumo wrestling star, just shy of rising to the top 'Yokozuna'. His previous girlfriends were all Japanese drama stars, and he was considered a hot and beautiful man in Japan. But then a female fan heard the news that he was getting engaged and desperately jumped to her death. This is the first time he understands how she felt." 

His eyes lower and he falls into silence while the man sobs.

Chu Zihang stands up and wanders away from the group, raising his eyes to watch the sea turtles swimming by.

Whale slammed his fist on the desk and everyone jumped. The cat hisses and flies off his lap in a blur to hide behind the bookcases. “This… this…” He croaked, shaking. Beads of sweat were rolling down his bald head. They moistened his nose and his glasses slipped down his face. “This power… I thought I’d never see it.”

Power…? Your emotions are almost calm but the effort of control has left crescent moon bruises in your aching hands.

“The power to move a man’s heart to action, to reach out and to embrace another woman’s heart, uncontrollably! Yes! YES!”

He leans on the desk, glaring at Caesar, “BasaraKing… I want to keep her here but I cannot accept your offer to make her do something as crass as bidding up fish. I want her to be a challenge to my precious performers! To pour out their love on her to the superlative degree!”

Your eyes widen and you freeze in place. What did that mean?!

Lu Mingfei was equally appalled but as soon as he opened his mouth, Caesar’s hand slapped over it to silence him. “Yes, sir. I’m glad her answer pleased you.”

“I cannot give you an Ikemen persona… you are not Ikemen… no… the opposite. You…”

He pointed a shaking ringed finger at you. “You! Are!”

He swept out his hands and raised his eyes to the ceiling, shouting like an evangelical preacher. “YOU ARE THE MAIN CHARACTER!”

[kookie-doughs]

Y/N L/N AND THE HALFBLOODS

Percy Jackson X Reader

-Y/N L/N met Percy Jackson and everything was now ruined.

CHAPTER 15: Spiders Aren't Water Proof

The next afternoon, June 14, seven days before the solstice, our train rolled into Denver. We hadn't eaten since the night before in the dining car, somewhere in Kansas. We hadn't taken a shower since Half-Blood Hill, and I was sure that was obvious. "Let's try to contact Chiron," Annabeth said. "I want to tell him about your talk with the river spirit." "We can't use phones, right?" "I'm not talking about phones." We wandered through downtown for about half an hour, though I wasn't sure what Annabeth was looking for. The air was dry and hot, which felt weird after the humidity of St. Louis. Everywhere we turned, the Rocky Mountains seemed to be staring at me, like a tidal wave about to crash into the city. Finally we found an empty do-it-yourself car wash. We veered toward the stall farthest from the street, keeping our eyes open for patrol cars. We were four adolescents hanging out at a car wash without a car; any cop worth his doughnuts would figure we were up to no good. "What exactly are we doing?" Percy asked, as Grover took out the spray gun. "It's seventy-five cents," he grumbled. "I've only got two quarters left. Annabeth?" "Don't look at me," she said. "The dining car wiped me out." I fished out my last bit of change and passed Grover a quarter, which left me two nickels and one drachma from Medusa's place. "Excellent," Grover said. "We could do it with a spray bottle, of course, but the connection isn't as good, and my arm gets tired of pumping." "What are you talking about?" He fed in the quarters and set the knob to FINE MIST. "I-M'ing." "Instant messaging?" "Iris-messaging," Annabeth corrected. "The rainbow goddess Iris carries messages for the gods. If you know how to ask, and she's not too busy, she'll do the same for half-bloods." "You summon the goddess with a spray gun?" Grover pointed the nozzle in the air and water hissed out in a thick white mist. "Unless you know an easier way to make a rainbow."

Sure enough, late afternoon light filtered through the vapor and broke into colors. Annabeth held her palm out to me. "Drachma, please." I handed it over. She raised the coin over her head. "O goddess, accept our offering." She threw the drachma into the rainbow. It disappeared in a golden shimmer. "Half-Blood Hill," Annabeth requested. For a moment, nothing happened. Then I was looking through the mist at strawberry fields, and the Long Island Sound in the distance. We seemed to be on the porch of the Big House. Standing with his back to us at the railing was a sandy-haired guy in shorts and an orange tank top. He was holding a bronze sword and seemed to be staring intently at something down in the meadow. "Luke!" I called. He turned, eyes wide. I could swear he was standing three feet in front of me through a screen of mist, except I could only see the part of him that appeared in the rainbow. "Y/N!" His scarred face broke into a grin. "Is that Annabeth and Percy, too? Thank the gods! Are you guys okay?" "We're... uh... fine," Annabeth stammered. She was madly straightening her dirty T-shirt, trying to comb the loose hair out of her face. "We thought—Chiron—I mean—" "He's down at the cabins." Luke's smile faded. "We're having some issues with the campers. Listen, is everything cool with you? Is Grover all right?" "I'm right here," Grover called. He held the nozzle out to one side and stepped into Luke's line of vision. "What kind of issues?" Just then a big Lincoln Continental pulled into the car wash with its stereo turned to maximum hip-hop. As the car slid into the next stall, the bass from the subwoofers vibrated so much, it shook the pavement. "Chiron had to—what's that noise?" Luke yelled. "I'll take care of it.'" Annabeth yelled back, looking very relieved to have an excuse to get out of sight. "Grover, come on! "What?" Grover said. "But—" "Give Percy the nozzle and come on!" she ordered. Grover muttered something about girls being harder to understand than the Oracle at Delphi, then he handed me the spray gun and followed Annabeth. Percy readjusted the hose so we could keep the rainbow going and still see Luke. "Chiron had to break up a fight," Luke shouted to me over the music. "Things are pretty tense here, guys. Word leaked out about the Zeus—Poseidon standoff. We're still not sure how—probably the same scumbag who summoned the hellhound. Now the campers are starting to take sides. It's shaping up like the Trojan War all over again. Aphrodite, Ares, and Apollo are backing Poseidon, more or less. Athena is backing Zeus." In the next stall, I heard Annabeth and some guy arguing with each other, then the music's volume decreased drastically. "So what's your status?" Luke asked us. "Chiron will be sorry he missed you." We told him pretty much everything, including Percy's dreams. It felt so good to see him, to feel like I was back at camp even for a few minutes, that I didn't realize how long I had talked until the beeper went off on the spray machine, and I realized I only had one more minute before the water shut off. "I wish I could be there," Luke told me. "We can't help much from here, I'm afraid, but listen... it had to be Hades who took the master bolt. He was there at Olympus at the winter solstice. I was chaperoning a field trip and we saw him." "But Chiron said the gods can't take each other's magic items directly." "That's true," Luke said, looking troubled. "Still... Hades has the helm of darkness. How could anybody else sneak into the throne room and steal the master bolt? You'd have to be invisible." We were both silent, until Luke seemed to realize what he'd said. "Oh, hey," he protested. "I didn't mean Annabeth. She and I have known each other forever. She would never... I mean, she's like a little sister to me." I wondered if Annabeth would like that description. In the stall next to us, the music stopped completely. A man screamed in terror, car doors slammed, and the Lincoln peeled out of the car wash. "You'd better go see what that was," Luke said. "Listen, has the knife come in handy?" "Very..." I smiled. "The knife is really perfect." "And Percy, are you wearing the flying shoes? I'll feel better if I know they've done you some good." "Oh... uh, yeah!" Percy tried not to sound like a guilty liar. "Yeah, they've come in handy." "Really?" He grinned. "They fit and everything?" The water shut off. The mist started to evaporate. "Well, take care of yourself out there in Denver," Luke called, his voice getting fainter. "And tell Grover it'll be better this time! Nobody will get turned into a pine tree if he just—" But the mist was gone, and Luke's image faded to nothing. We were alone in a wet, empty car wash stall. Annabeth and Grover came around the corner, laughing, but stopped when they saw our face. Annabeth's smile faded. "What happened, Percy? What did Luke say?" "Not much," Percy lied. "Come on, let's find some dinner." A few minutes later, we were sitting at a booth in a gleaming chrome diner. All around us, families were eating burgers and drinking malts and sodas. Finally the waitress came over. She raised her eyebrow skeptically. "Well?" I said, "We, um, want to order dinner." "You kids have money to pay for it?" Grover's lower lip quivered. I was afraid he would start bleating, or worse, start eating the linoleum. Annabeth looked ready to pass out from hunger. I was trying to think up a sob story for the waitress when a rumble shook the whole building; a motorcycle the size of a baby elephant had pulled up to the curb. All conversation in the diner stopped. The motorcycle's headlight glared red. Its gas tank had flames painted on it, and a shotgun holster riveted to either side, complete with shotguns. The seat was leather—but leather that looked like... well, Caucasian human skin. The guy on the bike would've made pro wrestlers run for Mama. He was dressed in a red muscle shirt and black jeans and a black leather duster, with a hunting knife strapped to his thigh. He wore red wraparound shades, and he had the cruelest, most brutal face I'd ever seen— handsome, I guess, but wicked—with an oily black crew cut and cheeks that were scarred from many, many fights. The weird thing was, I felt like I'd seen his face somewhere before. As he walked into the diner, a hot, dry wind blew through the place. All the people rose, as if they were hypnotized, but the biker waved his hand dismissively and they all sat down again. Everybody went back to their conversations. The waitress blinked, as if somebody had just pressed the rewind button on her brain. She asked us again, "You kids have money to pay for it?" The biker said, "It's on me." He slid into our booth, which was way too small for him, and crowded Annabeth against the window. He looked up at the waitress, who was gaping at him, and said, "Are you still here?" He pointed at her, and she stiffened. She turned as if she'd been spun around, then marched back toward the kitchen. The biker looked at me. I couldn't see his eyes behind the red shades. Who did this guy think he was? He gave me a wicked grin. "So you're the unclaimed kid, huh? No wonder they're arguing over who your parent is." I squinted at him, "The hell does my parents have to do with this?" "Well, which ever stuck up your parent is, the big guys upstairs are angry for interfering with your life." He said and placed his dirty boots on the table. "Your parent raised you with your mortal idiots, that's why no one can smell you." I could tell Annabeth wanted to say something but she probably was processing what this guy said. "Don't call my parents idiot. And I only have two parents, it's M/N and D/N L/N." I glared. I was confused as to why an Olympian would raise me and it'd hide my scent. Shouldn't it make worse? "Sure thing." He then turned to Percy who was beside me. "And old seaweed's kid." "What's it to you?" Percy spat. Annabeth's eyes flashed him a warning. "Percy, this is—" The biker raised his hand. "S'okay," he said. "I don't mind a little attitude. Long as you remember who's the boss. You know who I am, little cousin?" Then it struck me why this guy looked familiar. He had the same vicious sneer as some of the kids at Camp Half-Blood, the ones from cabin five. "You're Clarisse's dad," Percy said. "Ares, god of war." Ares grinned and took off his shades. Where his eyes should've been, there was only fire, empty sockets glowing with miniature nuclear explosions. "That's right, punk. I heard you broke Clarisse's spear." "She was asking for it." "Probably. That's cool. I don't fight my kids' fights, you know? What I'm here for—I heard you were in town. I got a little proposition for you." The waitress came back with heaping trays of food—cheeseburgers, fries, onion rings, and chocolate shakes. Ares handed her a few gold drachmas. She looked nervously at the coins. "But, these aren't..." Ares pulled out his huge knife and started cleaning his fingernails. "Problem, sweetheart?" The waitress swallowed, then left with the gold. "You can't do that," I told Ares. "You can't just threaten people with a knife." Ares laughed. "Are you kidding? I love this country. Best place since Sparta. Don't you carry a weapon, punk? You should. Dangerous world out there. Which brings me to my proposition." He turned to Percy, "I need you to do me a favor." "What favor could I do for a god?" "Something a god doesn't have time to do himself. It's nothing much. I left my shield at an abandoned water park here in town. I was going on a little... date with my girlfriend. We were interrupted. I left my shield behind. I want you to fetch it for me." "Why don't you go back and get it yourself?" The fire in his eye sockets glowed a little hotter. "Why don't I turn you into a prairie dog and run you over with my Harley? Because I don't feel like it. A god is giving you an opportunity to prove yourself, Percy Jackson. Will you prove yourself a coward?" He leaned forward. "Or maybe you only fight when there's a river to dive into, so your daddy can protect you." I wanted to punch this guy, but I knew he was waiting for that. He'd love it if I attacked. I didn't want to give him the satisfaction. But by the gods I want to smack him. Maybe some other time. "We're not interested," I said. "We've already got a quest." Ares's fiery eyes made me see things I didn't want to see—blood and smoke and corpses on the battlefield. "I know all about your quest, punk. When that item was first stolen, Zeus sent his best out looking for it: Apollo, Athena, Artemis, and me, naturally. If I couldn't sniff out a weapon that powerful..." He licked his lips, as if the very thought of the master bolt made him hungry. "Well... if I couldn't find it, you got no hope. Nevertheless, I'm trying to give you the benefit of the doubt. Your dad and I go way back. After all, I'm the one who told him my suspicions about old Corpse Breath." "You told him Hades stole the bolt?" "Sure. Framing somebody to start a war. Oldest trick in the book. I recognized it immediately. In a way, you got me to thank for your little quest." "Thanks," Percy grumbled. "Hey, I'm a generous guy. Just do my little job, and I'll help you on your way. I'll arrange a ride west for you and your friends." "We're doing fine on our own." "Yeah, right. No money. No wheels. No clue what you're up against. Help me out, and maybe I'll tell you something you need to know. Something about your mom and Y/N's parents." "Our parents?" He grinned. "That got your attention. The water park is a mile west on Delancy. You can't miss it. Look for the Tunnel of Love ride." "What interrupted your date?" I asked. "Something scare you off?" Ares bared his teeth, but I'd seen his threatening look before on Clarisse. There was something false about it, almost like he was nervous. "You're lucky you met me, punk, and not one of the other Olympians. They're not as forgiving of rudeness as I am. I'll meet you back here when you're done. Don't disappoint me." After that I must have fainted, or fallen into a trance, because when I opened my eyes again, Ares was gone. I might've thought the conversation had been a dream, but Annabeth and Grover's expressions told me otherwise. "Not good," Grover said. "Ares sought you out, Percy. This is not good." I stared out the window. The motorcycle had disappeared. Did Ares really know something about our parents, or was he just playing with me? Now that he was gone, all the anger had drained out of me. I realized Ares must love to mess with people's emotions. That was his power—cranking up the passions so badly, they clouded your ability to think. He does not lie. He knows about your parents. "It's probably some kind of trick, Y/N," Percy said. "Forget Ares. Let's just go." "We can't," Annabeth said. "Look, I hate Ares as much as anybody, but you don't ignore the gods unless you want serious bad fortune. He wasn't kidding about turning you into a rodent." "Why does he need us?" "Maybe it's a problem that requires brains," Annabeth said. "Ares has strength. That's all he has. Even strength has to bow to wisdom sometimes." "But this water park... he acted almost scared. What would make a war god run away like that?" Annabeth and Grover glanced nervously at each other. Annabeth said, "I'm afraid we'll have to find out." The sun was sinking behind the mountains by the time we found the water park. Judging from the sign, it once had been called WATERLAND, but now some of the letters were smashed out, so it read WAT R A D. The main gate was padlocked and topped with barbed wire. Inside, huge dry waterslides and tubes and pipes curled everywhere, leading to empty pools. Old tickets and advertisements fluttered around the asphalt. With night coming on, the place looked sad and creepy. "If Ares brings his girlfriend here for a date," I said, staring up at the barbed wire, "I'd hate to see what she looks like." "Y/N," Annabeth warned. "Be more respectful." "Why? I thought you hated Ares." "He's still a god. And his girlfriend is very temperamental." "You don't want to insult her looks," Grover added. "Who is she? Echidna?" "No, Aphrodite," Grover said, a little dreamily. "Goddess of love." "I thought she was married to somebody," Percy said. "Hephaestus." "What's your point?" he asked. I suddenly felt the need to change the subject. "So how do we get in?" "Maia!" Grover's shoes sprouted wings. He flew over the fence, did an unintended somersault in midair, then stumbled to a landing on the opposite side. He dusted off his jeans, as if he'd planned the whole thing. "You guys coming?" Annabeth, Percy and I had to climb the old-fashioned way, holding down the barbed wire for each other as we crawled over the top. The shadows grew long as we walked through the park, checking out the attractions. There was Ankle Biter Island, Head Over Wedgie, and Dude, Where's My Swimsuit? No monsters came to get us. Nothing made the slightest noise. We found a souvenir shop that had been left open. Merchandise still lined the shelves: snow globes, pencils, postcards, and racks of— "Clothes," Annabeth said. "Fresh clothes." "Oh my gods yes." "Yeah," Percy said. "But you can't just—" "Watch us." She snatched an entire row of stuff of the racks and offered me a hand which I graciously took, together we disappeared into the changing room. "I need a shower." I groaned, while I changed. "We all do." She pointed out. A few minutes later we came out in Waterland flower-print shorts, a big red Waterland T-shirt, and commemorative Waterland surf shoes. A Waterland backpack was slung over our shoulders, obviously stuffed with more goodies. "What the heck." Grover shrugged. Soon, all three of us were decked out like walking advertisements for the defunct theme park. We continued searching for the Tunnel of Love. I got the feeling that the whole park was holding its breath. "So Ares and Aphrodite," Percy said, to keep my mind off the growing dark, "they have a thing going?" "That's old gossip, Percy," Annabeth told us. "Three-thousand-year-old gossip." "What about Aphrodite's husband?" "Well, you know," she said. "Hephaestus. The blacksmith. He was crippled when he was a baby, thrown off Mount Olympus by Zeus. So he isn't exactly handsome. Clever with his hands, and all, but Aphrodite isn't into brains and talent, you know?" "She likes bikers." "Whatever." "Hephaestus knows?" "Oh sure," Annabeth said. "He caught them together once. I mean, literally caught them, in a golden net, and invited all the gods to come and laugh at them. Hephaestus is always trying to embarrass them. That's why they meet in out-of-the-way places, like..." She stopped, looking straight ahead. "Like that." In front of us was an empty pool that would've been awesome for skateboarding. It was at least fifty yards across and shaped like a bowl. Around the rim, a dozen bronze statues of Cupid stood guard with wings spread and bows ready to fire. On the opposite side from us, a tunnel opened up, probably where the water flowed into when the pool was full. The sign above it read, THRILL RIDE O' LOVE: THIS IS NOT YOUR PARENTS' TUNNEL OF LOVE! Grover crept toward the edge. "Guys, look." Marooned at the bottom of the pool was a pink-and-white two-seater boat with a canopy over the top and little hearts painted all over it. In the left seat, glinting in the fading light, was Ares's shield, a polished circle of bronze. "This is too easy," I said. "So we just walk down there and get it?" Annabeth ran her fingers along the base of the nearest Cupid statue. "There's a Greek letter carved here," she said. "Eta. I wonder..." "Grover," Percy said, "you smell any monsters?" He sniffed the wind. "Nothing." "Nothing—like, in-the-Arch-and-you-didn't-smell-Echidna nothing, or really nothing?" Grover looked hurt. "I told you, that was underground." "Hey Percy, that wasn't nice." I glared. "Okay, I'm sorry." Percy took a deep breath. "I'm going down there." Pulling out my knife, "There isn't any monsters." "I'll go with Percy." Grover didn't sound too enthusiastic, but I got the feeling he was trying to make up for what had happened in St. Louis. "No," Percy told him. "I want you to stay up top with the flying shoes. You're the Red Baron, a flying ace, remember? I'll be counting on you for backup, in case something goes wrong." Grover puffed up his chest a little. "Sure. But what could go wrong?" "I don't know. Just a feeling. Y/N, will go with me—" "Yeah, I can go with." "Didn't take you as a romantic Seaweed Brain." Annabeth smirked. "What?" Percy's face was burning now, too. It made me laugh at how adorable he was. He turned to me and blushed even more. "Fine," he told us. "I'll do it myself." "Percy, I didn't say i don't want to come with!" I giggled. He started down the side of the pool, I followed, I hear him muttering about how this wasn't how its supposed go. Then I realized how we would've been surrounded by water. "Arthur Curry, if I drown I will beg Hades to have you." He paused and turned to take my hand and we continued walking. We reached the boat. The shield was propped on one seat, and next to it was a lady's silk scarf. I tried to imagine Ares and Aphrodite here, a couple of gods meeting in a junked-out amusement-park ride. Why? Then I noticed something I hadn't seen from up top: mirrors all the way around the rim of the pool, facing this spot. We could see ourselves no matter which direction we looked. That must be it. While Ares and Aphrodite were smooching with each other they could look at their favorite people: themselves. Percy picked up the scarf. It shimmered pink, and the perfume was indescribable—rose, or mountain laurel. He smiled, a little dreamy, and was about to rub the scarf against his cheek I frowned ripped it out of his hand and stuffed it in me pocket. "No." "What?" "Just get the shield, Arthur Curry, and let's get out of here." The moment he touched the shield, I knew we were in trouble. My hand broke through something that had been connecting it to the dashboard. A cobweb, I thought, but then I looked at a strand of it on my palm and saw it was some kind of metal filament, so fine it was almost invisible. A trip wire. "Wait," I said. "Too late." "There's another Greek letter on the side of the boat, another Eta. This is a trap." Noise erupted all around us, of a million gears grinding, as if the whole pool were turning into one giant machine. Grover yelled, "Guys!" Up on the rim, the Cupid statues were drawing their bows into firing position. Before I could suggest taking cover, they shot, but not at us. They fired at each other, across the rim of the pool. Silky cables trailed from the arrows, arcing over the pool and anchoring where they landed to form a huge golden asterisk. Then smaller metallic threads started weaving together magically between the main strands, making a net. "We have to get out," Percy said. "Woah I didn't know!" I said. Percy grabbed the shield and holding my hand we ran, but going up the slope of the pool was not as easy as going down. "I'm going to drown again aren't I? "Come on!" Grover shouted. He was trying to hold open a section of the net for us, but wherever he touched it, the golden threads started to wrap around his hands. The Cupids' heads popped open. Out came video cameras. Spotlights rose up all around the pool, blinding us with illumination, and a loudspeaker voice boomed: "Live to Olympus in one minute ... Fifty-nine seconds, fifty-eight ..." "Hephaestus!" Annabeth screamed. "I'm so stupid.' Eta is H.' He made this trap to catch his wife with Ares. Now we're going to be broadcast live to Olympus and look like absolute fools!" We'd almost made it to the rim when the row of mirrors opened like hatches and thousands of tiny metallic... things poured out. It was an army of wind-up creepy-crawlies: bronze-gear bodies, spindly legs, little pincer mouths, all scuttling toward us in a wave of clacking, whirring metal. "Spiders!" I said. I kicked these pests. Percy pulled me up and dragged my back toward the boat. "I am not staying here! I am so going to drown again!" The things were coming out from all around the rim now, millions of them, flooding toward the center of the pool, completely surrounding us. I told myself they probably weren't programmed to kill, just corral us and bite us and make us look stupid. Then again, this was a trap meant for gods. And we weren't gods. Percy and I climbed into the boat. Percy started kicking away the spiders as they swarmed aboard. I was swatting away some that I could. "Thirty, twenty-nine," called the loudspeaker. The spiders started spitting out strands of metal thread, trying to tie us down. The strands were easy enough to break at first, but there were so many of them, and the spiders just kept coming. I kicked one away from Percy's leg and its pincers took a chunk out of my new surf shoe. Annabeth was frozen from where she stood trying to keep away from us as much as possible. Grover hovered above the pool in his flying sneakers, trying to pull the net loose, but it wouldn't budge. Think, I told myself. Think. The Tunnel of Love entrance was under the net. We could use it as an exit, except that it was blocked by a million robot spiders. "Fifteen, fourteen," the loudspeaker called. Then I saw them: huge water pipes behind the mirrors, where the spiders had come from. And up above the net, next to one of the Cupids, a glass-windowed booth that must be the controller's station. "Annabeth!" Percy yelled. "Get into that booth! Find the 'on' switch!" Snapping out of her trance she turned. "But—" "Do it!" Annabeth was in the controller's booth now, staring at the buttons. "Five, four—" Annabeth sighed and started pushing every button, then looked up at us hopelessly, raising her hands. She was letting us know that she'd pushed every button, but still nothing was happening. "Y/N, I won't let you drown, just hold on!" I didn't think twice on nodding. Percy closed his eyes. "Two, one, zero!" Water exploded out of the pipes. It roared into the pool, sweeping away the spiders. He pulled me into the seat next to us and fastened me seat belt just as the tidal wave slammed into our boat, over the top, whisking the spiders away and dousing us completely, but not capsizing us. The boat turned, lifted in the flood, and spun in circles around the whirlpool. He held my hand tight afraid I'll drown the moment he lets go. The water was full of short-circuiting spiders, some of them smashing against the pool's concrete wall with such force they burst. Spotlights glared down at us. The Cupid-cams were rolling, live to Olympus. Percy and I held tight, both of us screaming as the boat shot curls and hugged corners and took forty-five-degree plunges past pictures of Romeo and Juliet and a bunch of other Valentine's Day stuff. Then we were out of the tunnel, the night air whistling through our hair as the boat barreled straight toward the exit. If the ride had been in working order, we would've sailed off a ramp between the golden Gates of Love and splashed down safely in the exit pool. But there was a problem. The Gates of Love were chained. Two boats that had been washed out of the tunnel before us were now piled against the barricade—one submerged, the other cracked in half. Jump. We have to jump. "Unfasten your seat belt," I yelled to Percy. Who already had his belt unfastened. "Jumping?" "We're going to have to jump for it." My idea was simple and insane. As the boat struck, we would use its force like a springboard to jump the gate. I'd heard of people surviving car crashes that way, getting thrown thirty or forty feet away from an accident. With luck, we would land in the pool. Hopefully not drown. Percy nodded. He gripped my hand as the gates got closer. "On my mark," I said. On mine. Jump when 'I' say so Perseus Jackson. He looked at me reluctantly. "How?" "What?" You'll know when I say so. "Fine." He shouted. "Jump when I jump!" "How would I know?!" "You'll say it!" "What?!" "Just tell me when to jump!!" "Now!" I yelled. I was about to jump when Percy pulled me closer. "Not yet! You didn't say it yet." Jump Hero. Percy jumped. I followed him. Crack! He was right. If we'd jumped when I thought we should've, we would've crashed into the gates. He got us maximum lift. Our boat smashed into the pileup and we were thrown into the air, straight over the gates, the pool was getting closer. I was going to drown again. Something grabbed me from behind. I yelled, "Ouch!" Grover! In midair, he had grabbed Percy by the shirt, and me by the arm, and was trying to pull us out of a crash landing, but we had all the momentum. "You're too heavy!" Grover said. "We're going down!" We spiraled toward the ground, Grover doing his best to slow the fall. We smashed into a photo-board, Grover's head going straight into the hole where tourists would put their faces, pretending to be Noo-Noo the Friendly Whale. Percy and I tumbled to the ground, banged up but alive. Ares's shield was still on Percy's arm. "Are you okay?" Percy panted. "Yeah... I didn't drown." Once we caught our breath, Percy and I went over to help Annabeth who was getting Grover out of the photo-board and thanked him for saving our lives. I looked back at the Thrill Ride of Love. The water was subsiding. Our boat had been smashed to pieces against the gates. A hundred yards away, at the entrance pool, the Cupids were still filming. The statues had swiveled so that their cameras were trained straight on us, the spotlights in our faces. I walked closer, "You guys suck." I blew blasphemy at the camera. Percy pulled me away. "Show's over!" Percy yelled. "Thank you! Good night!" The Cupids turned back to their original positions. The lights shut off. The park went quiet and dark again, except for the gentle trickle of water into the Thrill Ride of Love's exit pool. I wondered if Olympus had gone to a commercial break, or if our ratings had been any good. I hated being teased. I hated being tricked. And I had plenty of experience handling bullies who liked to do that stuff to me. Percy hefted the shield on his arm and turned to us friends. "We need to have a little talk with Ares."

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@gayer-than-the-gayest-gay @the-natureofme @booknerd-3000 @katara720 @ynfics

[azurevi]

on land where we can touch the moon (1/?)

Ok, so this is a really random idea, but it’s basically The Little Mermaid with Azul. And I wish I could excuse myself by saying that I was drunk writing this, but really I was just rushing it because I’ve been sitting on it for far too long. Anyways, enjoy!

Pairing : Azul / genderneutral reader

Characters : Grim, Ace and Deuce

Warnings/Triggers : none

Word count : 3,371

PART2 PART 3

“Isn’t this great,” you made a show of strolling along the railing, the beer in your hand threatening to spill. “The salty sea air, the wind blowing in your face. Perfect day to be at sea!”

“Yes, well-” Jack paused mid-sentence to lean over the side. He sounded as though he was retching. “It is indeed a favourable weather, your royal highness- urk!”

“Now, what did I say about formalities, Jack?”

“You said, and I quote, ‘Call me by my first name, if only for today. It’s a direct order.’”

You went up to soothe his back. When he pulled his head up, his eyes were glossy and cheeks purple. “It’s inappropriate for you to see me in this state, your majesty,”

“So you’re defying my orders now? And on my birthday, no less?”

“That man is all work and no fun,” Ace commented bitterly. He and Deuce were on the opposite side of the ship, holding their respective mugs of beer.

“That’s what makes him the knight commander,” Deuce said.

“A knight commander who’s seasick, huh?”

“Shut up, both of you!“ 

You chortled blatantly, chest light and hair spraying in the wind. 

"Fireball Attack!”

There was a sharp yell, and Grim’s fur was all up in your face before you knew it.

“Hey, hey! Someone’s in a good mood!” You cradled him in your arms. His fur was fluffy and sticking up in the air in all directions.

While you were entertaining your attention-starved familiar, your personal knights had managed to get into yet another fistfight. Jack, the poor commander, was cornered on the edge of the ship, his golden, distinguished pin somehow threatening to slip off in his fingers.

“If I drop my badge, I swear on my wage you’re getting extra morning training and night patrols for the next whole year-!”

He gagged slightly before turning sharply, elbowing Ace in the process. His arm jolted, and the badge escaped his firm pinch, glistening in the air. Time seemed to slow as it made its way downwards, all the while the knights’ mouths grew rounder and rounder.

It plummeted right into the sea, made an insignificant plop and continued sinking quietly, slowly, until the sea muted the screams on deck and the light dwindled.

“We should really stay away, Rory,”

“Quit being a chicken,”

Lovett was falling behind. Rory had insisted that they visit this deeper and lesser known part of the ocean due to a half-hearted dare. And Rory, headstrong that she was, would never back down from a challenge.

“Haven’t you heard? Deep where the light doesn’t reach lives the evil Sea Merchant! A force to be reckoned with! It’s-”

Lovett swivelled swiftly. He was pretty sure something had just swam past from behind.

“Oh, for the love of Poseidon, please don’t eat me for I’m just a standard merman!”

“Will you zip?” Rory was already a few feets ahead. Lovett continued to mumble prayers as he flapped his tail harder.

There was almost no light now, but they could still make out the outlines of rocks and corals. It was uncanny how there was nary a sign of life, not even a lanternfish.

“What’s- what’s the dare anyways?”

“To steal something from the evil Sea Merchant’s collection,”

“You’ve got to be kidding me!” Lovett gasped. He had yet to notice how they’d swam into a forest of seaweeds. Some clung to their tails as they swam by and tickled their sides.

Something strong and somewhat slimy wrapped around Lovett’s arm. Presuming that it was just another irritating weed, he swung his arm back and forth. It only seemed to grow tighter.

“Great seas, what-” he turned to inspect. “Oh- oh- ten-TENTACLE!”

Rory sprinted around at the scream. “Holy-” she murmured, speechless and shocked to the core. 

Wrapped around Lovett’s elbow was no doubt a tentacle lined with suckers. For a while, it didn’t seem to be moving, but then Lovett was yanked away like lightning.

“Lovett!”

The first thought that came to his mind was that he was going to be eaten. That was until he was met with a frowning face. One under silver messy hair. Then his eyes traveled down the seemingly countless slithering tentacles that stretched out from the man, and he was trembling in fear again.

“Please-! Don’t eat me! I have the least nutritional diet!”

The man didn’t answer. Instead, he squinted at Lovett for an agonizingly long time before finally letting him loose. Lovett squirmed and backed away. The area where he had been held had become swollen red.

“Lovett?” Rory had just gotten into the scene. Lovett didn’t wait a second to break into a run, but Rory caught him by his elbow where it was still hurting.

“We gotta run, Rory-”

‘Huh. What, it’s just Ashengrotto? Have you forgotten about him already?“

Lovett whimpered when Rory advanced on the man. He narrowed his gaze behind a neat pair of glasses. Lovett half expected Rory to be squeezed to death on the spot.

"You’re lurking down here now? How lame. And I see that you still got those hideous fingers of yours,” Rory gestured at his tentacles. “You seriously don’t remember him, Lovett? You have shit memories. Does Azul Ashengrotto from college ring a bell?”

It took Lovett a long, long time to get it. “That’s right, you’re Azul! Man, how you’ve changed- wait, are you the Sea Merchant?”

There was nothing that could rival the bitterness in Azul’s voice. “Pleased to see you again, Lovett,”

“Is it easier to prey on fishes down here? Or are you just that insecure about yourself?” Rory paid no mind to their conversation.

“… It’s none of your business,”

“It actually is. You see, knowing that an ink-blasting octopus lives in the same water as I do is really unnerving-”

“Then make your leave.”

Rory’s smug look faltered. 

“Why should I? You don’t even own this part of the ocean-”

“Oh? Who are these friends of yours, Azul?”

A singsong voice once again interrupted Rory. She turned on her spot, only to find herself face to face with a grinning face.

“Eek-!”

“Oh! If this isn’t Rory~ how kind of you to visit us!”

Lovett backed away quietly. He wasn’t going to stay for anymore of this horror. When two hands slammed onto his shoulders, he shrieked a key higher than any other that’s been sung by opera singers. 

“Where do you think you’re going?” a far more stern and solid voice asked. It was one of those voices you hear in persuading commercials.

It was the Leech brothers, in their long, slender eel forms.

Lovett thought that was it. This was his doom. He was either going to get eaten alive or squeezed to his demise. He should never have agreed to come here. And now he was going to die. He didn’t even get to experience life-

“It’s fine, Jade, Floyd,” Azul said calmly. The hands on Lovett’s shoulders retreated, and Rory rushed towards him hastily and pulled him up and up until they were out of the seaweeds.

“I can’t believe you let them off that easily!” Floyd complained, pouting hard. “We could’ve had some fun with them first, and yet you decided to play good guy?”

Azul didn’t reply. The three of them travelled between rocks and reefs, and while Azul seemed to be in search of something, the twins were merely accompanying.

“I believe he has his reasons,” Jade said, pausing in anticipation. When Azul didn’t soothe his curiosity, he sighed and decided to drop the topic.

Azul rummaged through the swaying weeds and peeked into the slits of the rocks. Nothing seemed to have piqued his interest. Then they swam even further away from where they’d started and reached a sunken ship.

While almost the entirety of the hull had rotten away the structure of the ship still remained intact. Anemones and sponges had claimed the pieces of wood. Tiny shrimps traveled freely between poles and debrises.

Jade and Floyd followed tightly like bodyguards. They were at least mildly worried after the encounter with Rory and Lovett. They could still recall vividly how notorious Rory was and what a relief that they never had to meet again.

If anything, Azul seemed frustrated. His tentacles worked individually, shoving aside inconvenience hastily just like his hands. It was as though he’d lost something priced and valued.

“Let’s split up, alright? Treasure hunt’s no fun if we’re just following one another,” Floyd said as he rounded a corner and out of sight. Jade hesitantly stayed behind as well, leaving Azul to his own.

He’d been here so many times that he’d lost count. There was always something new and from the land somewhere between the ruins. But this time, it seemed to have become just another bland, boring place without any aesthetic value.

That was until something flickered in the corner of his eyes. It was so weak that it would’ve gone unnoticed by, say, Jade and Floyd, but Azul had always been delicate in treasure hunting. Nothing ever slipped his sight.

It looked like a badge. A golden brimmed badge with two crossed swords in the middle, and at the bottom carved two grand words - 'Knight Commander’.

“Oh, what’s that you’ve got there?”

“Ahh!" 

Azul spoke up finally in a long time. The brothers had at some point started following him again.

"Looks like a badge,”

“Bet it sank just a few hours ago. It looks very intact,”

“Yeah,” Azul flipped it between his fingers, eyes tracing in fascination. “It’s not everyday you see something like this,”

His mood seemed to have lightened after this discovery. He was gratified. It’d been a while since he last found anything worthy enough to add to his collection of trinkets from ashore. It put a smile to his face just remembering his towering shelves of tiny valuables. 

Azul owned a secret grotto that even the Leech brothers knew nothing of. He’d made sure that it was known only to him.

It was where he stored all the human objects he’d found undersea. Things like a trident but with four tips or a shallow, handled bowl. There were items as big as a golden pot and others as small as a hairclip. Everywhere he turned they were shimmering and singing about the unknown world outside the water, where mermaids had legs and walked instead of swimming, where they could dance instead of just swaying and flapping tails. Where they could go so many different places - forests and deserts, mountains and caves - many more than what the ocean held.

And they could reach the moon. The ageless, pensive moon that Azul could only wish to caress. But no matter how hard he stretched, it was only in his dreams where the moon would come down in all its glory, close enough to blind his eyes.

He needed to reach it. There was no other way. It was the single entity in the world that knew all the truths and lies, all the corruptions and praises. He had to see it, then he would get the answers - the truth he’d always hungered for. 

Muffled rumbles snapped him out of his intensity. When he looked up from under the grotto, he’d thought he was hallucinating.

The usually azure (and rather bland, may he add) current was now painted with red- no, yellow- purple- it was changing with every muted clap. It might have as well been the end of the world with its bizarreness. However, there was something else stirring in Azul’s heart aside from confusion.

Curiosity. A haste force that was tingling in all his eight tentacles, as if there was no way to rid of the sensation except to swim towards the source.

It was wrong on so many levels. He’d been taught by teachers, friends and his parents that to go beyond the water was basically pleading to be killed. Humans are nothing but greedy, spineless, nasty fish-eaters who are incapable of emotions, that’s what everyone said.

Was that really the case, though? As Azul surveyed his collections, he found it harder by second to believe in the lore. How would they explain all these sparkling and antique cosmetics? How could a world that made so many wonderful things be bad?

And so he pushed aside all doubts that were chaining his limbs and flew towards the surface.

The moment he broke the fabric of water and chill air entered his ears, he was taken back by the sight before him.

A colossal wooden ship was sailing right above. Behind it, lights and fire burnt themselves in the sky then fell into the water dimly. There were singing and whooping aboard where he couldn’t see. The grandness of it all was so deafening that Azul failed to hear the voice of reason in his head as he neared the boat.

There was an opening at the side of the ship. Azul carefully stuck his head up so he wouldn’t be seen. At least not without squinting.

There were about five people dancing and hollering, some holding drinks in their hands while the others blowing into their snarfblats with reddened cheeks. 

“Encore! Encore!” a red-haired guy yelled. Then there was an airy laugh in response. Azul turned sharply towards where it came from.

Azul was… awestruck, to say the least. You were grinning from eye to eye, which were diminished into slits. As you laughed on, Azul felt his chest lighten little by little. It was one of those laughs that pulled you closer and assured you that the world around was but a facade. He could listen to your laugh for the rest of his life and he’d never be distressed again.

“Alright, but can we first reveal the massive unknown that’s been standing here for the past hours? You know I can see it right?” you asked with confidence, and this confidence was just humble enough not to be arrogant.

“As you wish, mademoiselle,” another man with dark blue hair bowed with a flourish, then approached the object in question which was covered with a drape. He was at least tipsy with his wavering and unsteady steps.

“Presenting-!” he hollered before yanking the drape off. Surprisingly it was a golden statue made to resemble you.

You recoiled in mild distaste, but your smile remained. Azul pondered about how you still managed to radiate a cheerfulness despite your negative reaction.

It also occurred to him that it was made in gold. Out of all his collectibles there was rarely even a gold necklace. You must have a reputation for someone to make you such a big deal.

“Well, here’s your birthday present, milady,” the tipsy man was throwing names spontaneously now. The red-haired had to drag him away from the railing several times. You had all resumed singing and dancing. Azul was so captivated by your figure that he didn’t even notice the fireworks dying down.

You and a dark-skinned man were leaning right next him now. What looked like a cat but with flame shaped ears and a devil’s tail started sniffing in the vicinity. Azul was having a hard time staying out of its way and eavesdropping on your conversation.

“You sure you don’t want some?” you raised your mug to his face, which he declined respectfully.

“I’d prefer to stay sober,” he said. “You know, I don’t wish to spoil your birthday, but the king’s being more pressing than ever,”

“Yeah? About what?”

He stared at you for a moment before answering, as if he was trying to look pass your display. 

“About marriage, of course,”

You didn’t answer. Though the corners of your lips were still raised in the aftermath of all the previous hypes, you were obviously unhappy to be there. Azul wished the man would shut up and bring your smile back instead.

“It’s not just the King, your highness. The whole kingdom wants to see you happily settled down with the right person,”

“Jack-” you took a deep, deep breath. “It’s not something that can come quicker just because you’re anxious. I have to find the right person-”

“I understand…” Jack mumbled under his breath. He didn’t look like he understood at all.

“- and they’re out there somewhere. I’m sure. I just haven’t found them yet,” you turned and dangled your arms over the railing. Azul quietly swam under your hands. He could probably touch your fingertips if he stretched hard enough.

“When I see them, it’s gonna hit me. Like bam! Like lightning-”

As if hearing your prayer the sky cracked open with a loud cry and grew darker still. The other men scattered out hurriedly, looking as though they’d never drunk anything.

“Hurricane coming in! Stand fast, secure the rigging!”

It all happened so fast. The wind was so strong that Azul could almost feel himself being blown away. The sky rumbled again and lightning started a rapid fire where it’d striked. He noticed a rock looming just ahead, but no one on board seemed to have noticed it.

He should probably go. It’s the safest under the sea. The sky couldn’t hurt a hair of his. But then he heard your screams of commands, and suddenly he was a brave knight willing to give up his life for the princette.

You weren’t on the ship when he neared. Instead, you were already secured on a piece of log, as well as the other men. He exhaled a relieved sigh, but it didn’t last as he heard cries from the ship.

“Ah! Get away you nasty fire- help!” cried a high-pitched voice.

“Oh no, Grim!” you gasped. Without a second thought, you let loose of the log and rushed towards the burning ship. The broken ship gave you better access as you hopped on, but the moment you’d secured your familiar, the ship roared and you tripped and fell.

“Look out!” Azul yelled out futilely. The ship ran straight into the rock and BOOM, everything was set ablaze. Azul dodged between dropping debrises mindlessly as he roamed around in search of you.

When nothing was found above, he dived back into the water and there you were - sinking into the water, growing darker and darker by second. He was next to you in a blink - thanks to his fast-moving tentacles. 

Your group had already gone out of sight when he emerged again, but to his best luck there was a piece of land just near, and he raced there like he was going to lose his own life if he was too late. It was only when you were pulled up on the dryland that he could soothe his pounding heartbeat.

He was bewildered at the fact that he could breathe on land just as well as he did under water. Aside from the sand that had started sticking to his tentacles the moment they touched, nothing seemed to be out of place.

“Hey,” he’d never rescued a drowning human before. He didn’t even know what drowning was. 

“Are you dead?” he slapped your cheek lightly. Your chest didn’t seem to be heaving, and your lips were as pale as snow.

“Hey-”

“Blergh!” Your head jerked up and suddenly you were coughing up water. Azul squeaked before scurrying over to hide behind a rock.

Your head was drooping back and forth as you held yourself up with wobbly arms. Then you started turning around and locked eyes with Azul’s as he peeked out tentatively.

Oh, it’s bad. This is very bad.

“Who-” you started to stand, and at the same time Azul began to reach for the water stealthily so you wouldn’t notice. He knew he’d be screwed if he was spotted.

“Y/N!” someone cried from far away, and you turned to look. The split second was just enough for him to crawl back into the water and out of sight.

The water washed the sand off him quickly, erasing all the evidence that he’d been out there violating one of the strictest rules under the sea, but despite all, he found himself already missing the crisp air above.

If any, he’d grown more fond of the unknown world that you lived in.

[perseusjackson-jasongrace]

Hi I dont know if you want jercy requests at the moment but i had an idea for one :

Dark percy murdering calligula as a revenge for jason

Hello angel! Whew this request was willldddddd and I had soo much fun with it. There isn't any jercy per se (in fact Annabeth and Percy are together in this) but Percy is furrrrrious about Jason and he exacts a very twisted sort of revenge for his friend's honour. Basically this was an excuse to write dark!percy and by gods I hope I delivered!

CW: revenge driven, grief, graphic depictions of violence

Burning Maze Spoilers

he used to be nice.

He used to be nice.

Percy had been digging around the weapons room when his name had been shrieked like a dying animal. He had been looking for protective gear to give to little demigods in his sword-fighting class, when a scream like broken bones cracked through his body. He had been starting another calm, routine-controlled day at camp half-blood when he heard the news that made him snap.

*Two hours earlier*

“Jackson,” Annabeth knocks at his cabin door. He hears her voice carry through the open windows, and over the continuous sound of the ocean. “Pers, we have breakfast in half an hour and you have a sword class to teach today.”

The event had been printed on her wall of “to-dos” so that neither of their adhd brains would have the chance to forget. But he groans at the reminder, not wanting to escape his warm bed, or the duvet that wraps around him like a hug, or the pillows that hold his head as if he is a god. Sometimes he wishes he was a Hypnos kid. Their whole thing is sleeping . The knock sounds again.

“Seaweed Brain, come on,” His girlfriend sighs, “You promised we’d talk to Chiron about the—"

The loud and obnoxious cry of a harpy sounds somewhere in the distance and whatever she says next is drowned out completely. He knows though. Knows what she’s going to say and what they have to do. So he drags himself out of bed, like the last sack of potatoes on the crate. Heavy and bruised and discarded for the most desperate of the lot.

“I’m up,” He manages to rasp. He doesn’t like talking to people till he’s brushed his teeth, and eaten something, and spent at least half an hour staring at an empty coffee cup. A New Yorker through and through he supposes.

“Okay,” He hears Annabeth call, “I’ll see you at the dining hall then.”

He makes a sound half way between a grunt and a yawn and hopes she understands because that’s the best she’s getting out of him. The morning routine is quick, even done at the speed of a stubborn toddler. Soon he is sitting at the Poseidon table, scarfing down eggs and toast, and washing it done with a second cup of coffee. The buzzing in his veins is completely normal. And he’s definitely not speaking at a thousand miles an hour. This is how he always talks. Why on earth they allow coffee in a camp full of adhd kids, he’ll never understand. But it works in his favour so he isn’t going to complain.

By the time him and Annabeth are done talking to Chiron about introducing therapy to the camp, he feels like his eyes are moving faster than his sensory receptors can process and his thoughts are moving faster than his ability to process at all. So when his girlfriend, smiling at him about something, stops outside their training room he looks at her with furrowed brows and asks, “What are we doing here? Are we training for something?”

She frowns, “How much coffee did you have this morning?”

“Only three cups.” He shrugs, and clenches his hands in his pockets as if she can see through the fabric to the shaking body underneath.

Her grey eyes widen as if she’s about to scold him, a petulant child being chided by their ever tired caregiver. It makes the part of him still attempting to function slightly wild. He squishes that part down with the force of a thousand ships. Someone calls Annabeth’s name so with a quick peck to the cheek she leaves him in front of the training room and jogs towards the middle of camp and out of sight.

He stares at the room, trying to get his brain to stop focusing on things he doesn’t need to focus on right now, like the three lines of a song he heard at the grocery store a week ago that he hasn’t been able to get out of his head.

He used to be nice.

Entering the training room he scans the schedule and sees he’s teaching a class of small people, campers younger than ten who are just learning the ropes but should disaster ever strike will be ushered to the Cabin 9 bunkers to wait out the storm. It is a rule that no-one under the age of twelve be subject to war if they need not be. And he will make damn sure the need never ever surfaces.

He gathers swords of various shapes and sizes, along with a few daggers, and the straw dummies that have seen better days. It boggles his mind that they’re at a camp for children of literal greek gods but somehow there’s no funding for basic necessities like extra cots in the Hermes cabin, and better dummies to stab.

Muttering to himself he moves aside metal and stacks of straw, trying to find protective gear in the pile dumped at the corner of the training room. When he doesn’t see any he lets out a long suffering sigh... he has to go to the weapons room, which is more of a broom closet with deadly devices than anything else.

The room smelt musty, and the reek of rust slams into his nostrils at dizzying speeds. It reminds him of blood, and it made his skin itch with the need to get out. But still he bends down and searches through the mess of celestial bronze, and gold and—

The scream cauterizes his happiness. He is panic and pain and death and everything brutal in a single awful instant.

“PERCY!” His name has never sounded so full of agony, each syllable holds the stages of grief.

He is running towards the anguish before he’s even fully realises what’s going on. But what he sees when he crests the hill is enough to make the warmth of his heart run burning cold.

Annabeth is curled on the ground, tears like rivers of woe streaming down her cheeks and a purple flag clutched tightly in her fists.

“What happened?” His voice is soft. If he hears himself too loudly he’s going to shatter.

Annabeth cries harder, her whole body shuddering. Grief is overwhelming. Grief is all consuming. Grief will make itself known like thorns in your thumb or bullets in your heart.

“What happened?” He repeats.

And someone, far away, right next to his ear, inside his head, says, “It’s Jason, Jason Grace. He’s dead.”

He used to be nice.

It takes him three days. Three days of non-stop travelling, by foot, and air, and sea, to reach Caligula’s home. A palace. A grave. It is three days too long. Too long for a murderer to be walking free as if there are no consequences to his vile actions. But still he is here now and he will see the fall of a great, and watch how he bleeds just like everyone else. Not gold, the colour of the emperor’s one true love, but red, the colour of his victims.

Percy's eyes are almost black with violence, green so dark it reflects the night sky. His hands clench and unfurl as if practicing to wrap around a throat and squeeze till the symphony of breathing plays its last note. His body is strung taut, a bow string waiting to release. He is murder. He is nothing. He is your worst nightmare.

“Caligula.” He scrapes. It is the exact sound of a sword sparking against stone. “Come out, come out, wherever you are.”

Nothing but scared silence greets him. He can feel the fear coating the walls of this burial ground like a fresh coat of paint. He will make a playground of the blood he spills, will invite all manner of creatures to use it as a park. He will revel in the slaughter he is about to participate in.

“Caligula!” His voice is the sharp edge of a small knife. Unassuming but deadly. ‘“It is no use hiding. There is no place you could go where I couldn't find you.” He feels the earth sway underneath him, and he grins. Oh this is going to be fun.

“Fine Emperor, if this is how you want to do it.”

With a shrug, he flings out an arm and turns three columns to dust. He watches the stone crumble, feels the sand on his palm as if he was crumbling the columns in his hands like soft cheese. With a small stomp of his foot a crack rivaling the river Thames splits the marble floor in half. The entire structure shudders, creaks right above him. His grin only gets wider, more dangerous.

“I will level this place to the ground. I will erase it from history as if it had never been. You will not exist Caligula, because you will go with it. Will be crushed under the weight of your own wealth.”

“You’re a fool,” A voice, reedy and nasalled in a way that has his soul curdling, shouts from somewhere on the far side of the room. “You will crush us both."

Percy laughs. He laughs and the sound widens the cracks in the floor. It is deep, and wild, but in the way a wild thing is caged: snapping at it’s bars, hissing to be free. He laughs.

“You are a fool Caligula. A fool if you think i am not willing to die if it means you suffer. A bigger fool still if you think it will not give me great pleasure to spend my last moments watching the life leave your eyes,”

The distant sound of bubbling starts to fill the room. Percy wonders if he can make blood boil. His mother has certainly said so enough times.

“Leave now half-blood,” The Emperor spits. There is still something of arrogant, misplaced bravery in his voice. It amuses Percy. “Leave now and you will not face the consequences.”

“And pray tell,” He contemplates, “Who you think will deliver your consequences if i leave?”

A scoff that echoes into the pathways of his brain comes from the back of the room. “I do not need consequences dealt. I have done nothing to deserve them.”

The sound of bubbling is getting louder. He looks curiously at the cracks still spidering around the room. “Ah Emperor,” He tuts, “That is where you are wrong. People who deserve consequences hardly ever get them. It is those who don’t think they deserve them that become the unlucky bearers.”

“What are you going on about, boy?” He snarls.

The bubbling is loud enough now that Percy almost checks to see if a small brook has carved its way through the floor. There is nothing there except ever growing cracks, turning to rifts and canyons before his eyes.

He used to be nice.

“We can do this one of two ways Caligula.” He starts, honey bees with a sting a little too sharp to be defence. “You can apologise and I’ll kill you quickly, or…” His smile is sickening. “And this is my preferred method, I could watch you die slowly, watch the life drain from your body and into the soil of blood-crops that will grow here, and your dying words will be the mercy you will inevitably beg for.”

The bubbling spills over the cracks, leaking salty water onto the dying marble floor.

“Better choose soon oh dear Emperor,” He giggles, “I am the only thing holding this room together. As soon as I let go the floor will split like your loyalties. You will be crushed to death by your own greed. And if that doesn't happen you will surely drown.” To emphasise his point water starts gushing from the floor, no longer a bubbling stream but a raging river. His laughter is carried along the ripples that hit the walls, already leaking with the all encompassing ocean. “Wouldn’t it be a pity Caligula? To drown in your own home, surrounded by all the things you killed for, watching as they drown with you?”

“Shut up half-blood,” He screeches, “You do not have the power it takes to kill me. You are nothing compared to the centuries I have been alive.”

“Do you know who i am honouring Caligula?” He asks softly, a stark and terrifying contrast to his smile a moment before. “In all your centuries can you remember but one demigod, a dear friend of mine, but just another victim of yours?”

“Does it matter?” He scoffs, “They are all the same in the end. All bleed, and cry, and piss, and die the same.”

The grin Percy lets loose starts hurricanes. It is the absolute wrong thing to say. ‘“If it is all the same to you Emperor,” He becomes terror. “Then i think i’ll spill your blood at his altar.”

And before the doomed emperor could react an invisible hand wraps around his throat and he was being dragged to the middle of the room. His eyes wide, popping out of his head; hands clawing at his neck as if trying to remove the grip they cannot feel; feet flopping helplessly underneath him.

“Apologise for killing Jason Grace.” It is a command.

Caligula glares, attempting to spit at his feet.

Percy tilts his head and with a single crook of his finger he slams the emperor into the wall. The crack is deafening. It makes him grin.

“Apologise for killing Jason Grace.”

Caligula produces an ancient roman gesture, passed through time as if centuries cannot dismantle the insults of humans.

Percy twists his wrist and the emperor’s body contorts into something unrecognizable, bones snapping and shattering to fit their new mold.

“Apologise for killing my friend.”

“Fuck you,” He manages to choke out.

A wave of ocean water alarming in its beauty rises behind him. He is its god. And with a wink he shoves all of it down the emperor’s throat. The column of that pale neck bobs as if attempting to take the water down. He can see the body trying to retch it all up, unable to handle the sheer amount, the salt that comes with it.

“Watch Caligula,” He motions to the palace sinking under the weight of his ocean, “Watch as everything you have ever cared to love drowns.”

Percy grabs a shard of mirror, uncaring of the gash it sweeps across his palm. He holds it up to the ancient powerful Emperor, who is convulsing into nothing. “Watch.”

He used to be nice.

Sometime later when Percy Jackson walks up a hill, and into the fading sun there is nothing but content mania lining his features, and behind him where a grand home once stood, is a trickling river and a single spear carved with the words, “Neo Helios”. The only sign that Caligula, Emperor and murderer, ever existed,

He used to be nice.

Until someone killed his friends.

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

[image id: printed text that reads, "I used to be nice." end id]

[chuuyas89bottleofpetrus]

CHARACTER PROFILE: MARGARITA CONCHITIA

Name: Margarita Conchitia

Age: 15

Stand: ｢La Vie Bohème｣

(Later ｢Seasons of Love｣)

(I am currently drawing my own picture of ｢Seasons of Love｣, but have this picture from Magic The Gathering for now)

Powers: ｢La Vie Bohème｣ is capable of creating life not unlike ｢Golden Experience｣. It can only create plant life, and it does not use nonliving objects. The user only needs to touch an area and the plant life of the users choice will start growing, and the user has incredible control over the plants that grow. The user can do anything from make pictures out of the plants to wrap thorny vines around their enemy’s body.

At the attainment of ｢Seasons of Love｣, the user can make the flowers grown give their life force to an injured person to heal them, or even sometimes give the life force to a dead person and bring them back to life. There is specific criteria for revival, and it also takes a huge toll on the user’s own life force. Although their life force can “recharge”, if the life force runs out, the user will die

Appearance: ｢La Vie Bohème｣ (see picture above)

｢Seasons of Love｣ is a warm-colored humanoid snake. It is about 7ft in height and has vines wrapping around its arms and waist. Instead of the flower dress that its previous form had, it instead has armor made out of non-sentient sea life such as seaweed, anemones, and coral.

Backstory: Margarita was born the youngest and only girl out of seven brothers. Her mother was American and the owner of a popular concert venue and her father was Hispanic and the owner of Wine Like Blood, a multi-billion dollar alcohol company. They met when her father was providing alcohol for a concert being hosted at her mother’s venue, and you can see how well they hit it off because they had EIGHT KIDS.

Even though she had seven brothers the only important siblings would be the oldest set of twins, Alexander and Alejandro. Alejandro was the older twin, making him the oldest sibling. The family almost never saw him because he was always studying or taking a class. Alexander was closer to his family, always helping them with something, whether it be homework or cleaning their rooms.

The night of Margarita’s eighth birthday (which is Christmas), she was woken up by gunshots. Alexander burst into her room only a few seconds later, the doberman puppy her mother intended to give her in his arms. He shoved Margarita and the pup into her closet, telling her not to come out until twelve hours had passed, and he left

The gunshots continued, accompanied by screaming and crying, but Margarita obeyed her brother and stayed in the closet. She watched the clock hanging in her closet wall for hours, and went to the living room once all the noise died down. She threw up at the sight that greeted her

Her mother? Bloody and bruised, her clothes torn off and a bullet hole was on her head. Her father? Laying in a pool of his own blood, face swollen, two black eyes, his head cracked open. Most of her brothers were beaten to a pulp, each with a bullet hole in their heads. Two brothers were missing. Alejandro, who was supposed to fly in the next day from England where he was studying law at Oxford, and Alexander, who she could only assume was dragged away by whoever did this.

Alejandro inherited his father’s company and his mother’s properties, and Margarita got her share of the inheritance, but Alejandro was in heavy grief and didn’t know how to cope, so he bought land in Italy, built three houses on it, and shipped his sister over there, cutting off all contact with her aside from the 200,000 lira he legally had to give her every month. He felt horrible about it for years.

Margarita was very, very smart. She figured out Italian was almost the same as Spanish and easily became fluent, and her mother taught her all the math and grammar she needed to know to be successful in life. She was perfectly capable of living on her own

For her first year alone, Margarita did considerably well. She used the mansion on her land to paint murals, the farm house to grow a valley of flowers and other plants, and then the normal two-story was just used to live in. She even came into possession of five other dogs, a bullmastiff (Rose), a German Shepard (Marigold), a giant schnauzer (Lillie), a St. Bernard (Seraph), and a Great Dane (Bella), alongside her doberman, Orchid, who was her closest friend and companion.

But she couldn’t keep herself happy for long. Six months after her ninth birthday, Margarita started falling down the rabbit hole. She gave hundreds of lira to liquor stores to permit her purchases of strong alcohol, and bought thousands of dollars worth of weed and heroine, but of course it was just pocket change to her. She opened a coffee shop where she also sold flowers at ten years old to give her something to do so she could stop her bad habits, but alas, it didn’t work.

Three years passed, and Bruno Buccellati was sent the shop. The Bodega became a popular spot for students studying after school, business had went up, and Polpo wanted the owner to pay rent even though they had no idea it was on mafia property.

It was after hours, and Margarita was smoking a cigarette while painting a picture of the city view outside the shop’s glass window, her sleeves rolled up due to the warm weather. Buccellati came through a zipper in the back door, but Margarita didn’t flinch, saying that the store was closed. Buccellati very quickly noticed the stench of alcohol, and saw the needle marks on Margarita's arms. So, instead of asking for the rent, he introduced himself, and offered a membership to Passione.

[greekgrad12]

know

tlh/son content i didn’t ask for :)

(tw!! mentions of not eating and depression)

**********************************

It had been four months, five days, and twelve hours since Percy Jackson disappeared. Four months, five days, and twelve hours since he kissed her goodnight and went off to his cabin. She was supposed to see him the next day. They had planned to eat breakfast together and then go to the stables to hang out with Blackjack. It was meant to be normal day, and yet, it ended up being the beginning of Annabeth’s worst nightmare. She thought he’d be back by now. She thought she would have been able to find him at this point. 

One week, she would catch herself thinking, He was able to find me in barely one week after Atlas captured me. Why can’t I find him?

The last four months have been hard, but Annabeth had recently fallen into a new kind of despair. Something more than an ache, more than a sinking feeling in her chest. The feeling made her physically ill. Over half of the time, she wanted to scream, and her siblings encouraged it. They tried to convince her that it could help, but she was too numb to ever put in the effort. 

The past week had been her worst one yet. Annabeth barely left bed, let alone the Athena cabin. She spent every day staring at Daedalus’ computer looking through missing people’s reports, searching for strange happenings around the world, and trying to come up with new search plans. She hadn't eaten in days and it was beginning to be noticeable. 

Her brothers and sisters tried to reason with her, but she wouldn't budge. Piper tried to comfort her, but Annabeth didn't want pity. The Stoll’s stopped by and tried to make her laugh, but she barely breathed out a chuckle. Even Will Solace made an appearance and tried to convince her that she needed to be taking better care of herself.

“Percy wouldn't want to see you like this,” he’d said. 

But how would he know what Percy would want? She was his girlfriend. She was his best friend. She was the one who felt like she was dying every morning when she woke up and realized that this wasn’t all a big nightmare. Annabeth was the one who’d lost someone she loved, again, and couldn't do anything about it, again. 

She didn't even have Grover to lean on. If she were to let anyone in right now, it would be either him or Thalia, but they were both off leading the satyrs and hunters in a search party. At least they were doing something. Chiron hadn't let her leave the camp in who knows how long. Apparently, she was too big of a risk in her present state. Annabeth thought that was bullshit. 

Somehow, the girl had managed to feel more weak, useless, and alone then she ever had before, and yet, at the same time, she felt nothing. 

A knock on her cabin door pulled Annabeth from her computer screen. She assumed it would be one of her siblings trying to coax her into coming to dinner again, but she was surprised to see none other than Clarisse la Rue leaning against the door of her cabin, hands behind her back. 

“What are you doing here?” Annabeth’s voice came out croaky. She hadn't spoken all day. 

“Could ask you the same thing,” Clarisse replied as she walked further into the room towards where Annabeth sat on her bunk, “It’s dinner time, princess.” 

Annabeth rolled her eyes at the big girl looking down at her, “I’m not hungry. And I’m busy.” 

Clarisse scoffed, “Yeah, and I don't buy it. You missed breakfast and lunch today, and dinner last night. And the night before, and the night before that.” 

“Like I said, I’ve been busy.” 

“Annabeth,” The end of the bed dipped as Clarisse took a seat. The blonde didn’t want to look up from the laptop, but there was something strange in Clarisse’s voice. She still sounded annoyed, but it was almost comforting, gentle even. 

When she looked at Clarisse, she was met with an expression she’d never really seen on the girl’s face before. It could almost be described as a mix between an aggressive don't bullshit me and a gentle I know. Annabeth hated it. 

I know. 

I know this is hard for you. I know this hurts. I know things will turn out okay. 

For some reason, everyone assumed that they knew what Annabeth was going through. That they knew what she was feeling. But how could they possible understand what she was feeling when she couldn't put it into words herself? Annabeth was no stranger to loss, but this? This was different. She’d always been a tough girl. She’s always been the one who was able to hold herself together and put on a brave face for the sake of doing what’s important. But this? Loosing Percy? Her Seaweed Brain? 

They had been through so much together and so far they’d survived. Together. And now she's facing all of this alone. Annabeth isn't some damsel in distress. She survived without Percy before, so she wasn't sure why she suddenly feels like she can't breathe without him. 

She didn't want to be reminded of those stupid words ever again, “Don't.” 

Annabeth was surprised that Clarisse even heard her. The word came out in a harsh whisper and the waver in her voice didn't help.

Rather than give her the typical pity look, Clarisse just sighed and brought her hands out from behind her back. In her right hand, she was holding a water bottle, in the left, a piece of pizza wrapped in a napkin, extra olives. Annabeth just stared at it.

“Who sent you?”

“Believe it or not, I come by my own free will,” Clarisse placed the food and drink down in front of Daedalus’s computer, “You’ve been ignoring everyone. I think Malcolm was about to send out an Iris Mesage to Thalia and have her bring the hunters back so she could try her hand at talking to you. Figured I’d give it a go before we resort to that.”

“Why do you care if the hunters come here?”

Clarisse got quiet and looked down at the food she’d brought in. There was a look on her face, it almost as if she was contemplating what to say. It took a moment before she finally let out a sigh and spoke up, “Those hunters jump back really quickly. They were back to the hunt in no time after the Titan War. And it’s tradition to have a game of Capture the Flag every time they visit. We haven’t played since before, well, everything-“

“And you don’t want to loose to them again,” Annabeth scoffed. Of course Clarisse would have her own agenda in mind right now. The blonde had half a mind to throw the pizza into her face and-

“No,” Despite Annabeth’s rude tone, Clarisse remained calm, “I just don’t want to fight. Not for a little while longer at least.”

Annabeth wasn’t sure how to react to the confession. She’d never heard an Ares kid say they didn't want to fight. Especially Clarisse.  The other girl must have sensed Annabeth’s confusion, or read it right off of her face, because she explained further, “The um... the last time I was in an actual fight was right after Silena... you know.” 

This time it was Clarisse who was avoiding eye contact. Of course Annabeth knew, she was right there when it happened. She witnessed first hand as Clarisse’s tough walls crumbled at the sight of Silena’s death. No camper was excited about training after the war was over. A majority of the summer had been spent as if they were kids at a normal summer camp and not a bunch of demigods who had just fought in a giant war where half of their friends had died. For a moment, just moment, they were normal. 

But training would have to start again eventually. Wars come and go, but monsters will always return. However, no one was eager to jump back into making a game out of war when they had just barley survived a real one. 

“Yeah...” I know. 

Annabeth stopped before those cursed words could slipped through her lips. She and Silena were very close friends. She missed her all the time. She would be reminded of her when she walked past the Aphrodite cabin, or when she went to see Backjack, or, even worse, when she hung out with Piper. Annabeth loved and missed Silena so much, but she didn't know what Clarisse was going through. 

When Chris came back to camp, Clarisse and Silena became closer than ever. The daughter of Ares found someone she could confide in and trust. A person who she could let her walls down with, but it was more than that. At least, that’s what Annabeth was starting to believe. 

Looking back at the days after the war, Annabeth now realized how familiar this all must be for Clarisse, because she was the exact same way. Well, maybe not the exact same. The daughter of Ares didn't spend her time searching news reports or making up search plans, but she retreated in her own way. It wasn't until Chris intervened that she started to get back to her old self. 

“Clarisse,” Annabeth asked, gently, “How did- I mean, with Silena- you-” 

Clarisse snickered, but it wasn't harsh in any way, “I think this is the first time I’ve heard an Athena kid sound so unsure. Just ask.”

“How did it feel?” the blonde was straining not to let tears fall from her eyes, “When she- when you lost her?” 

“It felt like...” Clarisse bit her tongue and leaned her head back, as if she were trying to hold something back too, “It felt like I’d just lost what made me whole.” 

“Why?” the question came out softer than she’d intended. 

Then, for maybe the first time in her life, Annabeth saw a soft smile appear on Clarisse’s face, “Because I loved her. Just like you love Percy, just like he loves you.” 

Love. 

Annabeth didn’t know when she stopped trying to hold back her tears, but by the time she realized her cheeks were wet, it was too late to do anything about it. 

“I don’t know how you feel, but I know what you’re going through. Though, hopefully, not completely. Jackson is still out there, I know because that headache he always causes me to have is still here,” Annabeth laughed for the first time in months, “Look, I do intend to help you find him, and I will hit him over the head for leaving, whatever the reason, I don't really care. But you have to start taking care of yourself again, Annabeth. What you're doing, it’s dangerous and stupid. Believe me, I know. And we don’t call you Wise Girl because you’re stupid.”

Then, Annabeth did something she never thought she’d ever do. She shut her computer then reached out and gave Clarisse la Rue a hug. Just as Annabeth was sure she was about to get body slammed, the other girl hugged her back. 

“No offense or anything,” Annabeth said, pulling away from the girl and wiping tears off of her face, “but this all seems very un-Clarisse of you.” 

The girl chuckled at that, “Silena taught me to open up about my feelings. I’m beginning to realize that I wouldn't be honoring her if I decided to backtrack into my old secluded ways just because she’s gone. However, that being said, if anyone asks, I came in here, yelled some sense into you, and you don't know about my mushy side.” 

A small smile appeared on Annabeth’s face, “Deal.” 

“Good,” Clarisse said, leaning back onto the bed post, “Now, I'm not leaving until you drink your water and eat your pizza. After this, you're going to the bonfire and having one night off, and if you argue I will go all Ares on you. We have every resource available out there looking for Percy. I know it’s your specialty and all, but you shouldn't be stressing yourself over things you can't control. He’ll come back to you, he loves you too much to stay away much longer.” 

After that, there wasn't much more convincing to be done. Annabeth ate her food and drank her drink while having a civil conversation with Clarisse. She’d gone back to talking and teasing like the Clarisse Annabeth knew, but now she was someone else. The last thing the blonde girl ever imagined was to have Clarisse la Rue, daughter of Ares, help her sort out her feelings, but now she knew. 

Annabeth knew why it hurt so much that Percy was gone. She knew why no one was able to comfort her, not in the way that he did, and she knew why losing him hurt so much more than anyone else. She knew why she had this dark feeling surrounding her, even still now, because one heart-to-heart over a piece of pizza won’t just take that away. But she knew it was possible. Clarisse was proof. Annabeth can come back from this and find Percy. She knew she could. She knows she can. 

Because now she's knows why it’s so important. 

It’s because it’s Percy. 

And it’s because she loves him. 

[halothenthehorns]

All in the Family

Chapter 84: The Second Task

James almost landed on his feet this time, stumbling forward madly in what could have been anything from icy slush, to mud, to quicksand, it was so shocking and repulsive to his bare feet, and quickly found himself face first with a solid block of water. He blinked dazedly several times as he rapped his fist against this new oddity, it didn't even come away wet, then screamed as his eyes adjusted through the murky swill to the sight of the four dead bodies.

He scrambled backwards so fast he found himself tripping right over someone and ruined any pretenses of clean that bath had given by now being covered head to toe in muck like everyone else, heart hammering out of his chest, unable to find his wand, and still looking right at them.

Sirius was trying to get madly to his side, wandless as well and feeling more naked for it than if his boxers had somehow vanished in between jumps this time, but finally getting unsteadily to his feet and hurrying over to Prongs to see the exact same thing. It was a horrifying sight to behold, and looking quickly down to see James uninjured and tangled up, nearly naked with Smith wasn't even distracting him.

Nobody else even looked down to notice the same yet, all eight of them were transfixed at the four floating figures tied down to a crude statue of a merperson carved into a boulder.

"Are they really-" Lily began in a quiet, broken voice, eyes on the little girl, she had to be younger than Regulus...

"N-no!" said Black's voice was shaking too much to even poster at his usually superior nature. "This, this must have something to do with, aha!"

He lunged forward for the book, held down by the blunt end of a trident so half buried in the muck as well as them, and pulled the now dirty blue binding free, instantly flipping it open to reveal the new chapter title, The Second Task.

"So, they had to come down here and find, people?" Frank started rubbing at his chest to get feeling back in it, now leaning against the barrier for support. "That's what they meant by recovering something taken? I bloody hate this tournament."

"I'm long since past," Alice promised, shivering in more than cold despite the mud clinging to her skin. "Mind getting off of me now Potter?"

"Eh?" He glanced down and seemed to realize he was keeping her pinned down, and dutifully rolled off with a quick uttered apology. Then his already pale visage went ever worse as he did a quick look around and didn't see his clothes anywhere, with his wand in it! Oh bloody hell, what happened to the shit they left behind, did they ever find out?!

"Here," James very suddenly found himself with Sirius's pants in his face. "Thought you idiots would like those back."

Sirius did not care that thanks to his brother he now knew what his sock tasted like, he quickly shoved his hands into every available pocket before coming up with Prongs's wand, looking over to see him doing the same with his own.

"You two really are idiots," Peter repeated as he watched Prongs get dressed. "What if he hadn't thought of that eh? And after Regulus went through all that trouble with his shoes?"

"We were having some bleeding fun for once," James scowled, his voice only slightly muffled by his shirt. "Maybe if you lot had joined, we all could have gotten zapped out of there at everyone's convenience!"

"That's all this is to you, isn't it? Fun," Regulus shook his head in disgust.

Neither of them answered, as they did not feel the need to explain themselves to him. Sirius huffily put his pants on and purposely turned away from him to go back studying the no longer dead, but still really, really dead-looking four.

"So, that's Ron and Hermione huh?" He said purposefully loudly to Remus. It was admittedly a guess, but not a wild one, considering the amount of times they'd been described. "Ron's taller than I pictured. Not hard to see why Harry's got a fancy for Cho though, she's a looker, eh Prongs?" Her's was much more wild in said guess, but if Ron and Hermione were down here, logically these were people the champions would care about.

"Eh," he barely cast another look at the girl with long dark hair, he was straightening his shirt and watching Evans, who was now studying the nearest merperson's house with great interest as it sank in for everyone where they must be. Beneath the Hogwarts lake.

It was far too dark down here to get a sense of anything too far from their little bubble of air, but what they could see was admittedly attention-grabbing. The seashells acting as a sort of roadway, the tangled seaweed much shorter than they'd have thought leading to the fun question of what they used to keep that cut down here, and even the houses were something few wizards had ever gotten the chance to see in such detail. The one closest to them was thatched together very cleanly, with no front door apparent.

"I don't understand why we're already at the second task when Harry has no idea what he's going to do to get down here," Frank was frowning heavily at the four victims still. "I'd have thought we'd get a whole chapter dedicated to that at this point."

"I'm not complaining, the sooner this is over, the better," Regulus muttered under his breath as he kept going through Harry's classes, his friends of no more clue than them how any of this was going to work out.

Remus' robes were now dripping with muck and water, he still wanted to kick Sirius for the impromptu bath, but he was frowning at him for a wholly other reason as instead of putting the Bagman jersey back on, he was flipping it this way and that with a frown.

"You don't have to keep showing off Sirius, you swimming around nearly starkers did that plenty," he reminded.

"This turd's been bothering me," he said off hand, before dropping it into the mud and crossing his arms. "Offering Harry all that help, avoiding the twins, something's up with him."

"So, what, you're going to run around shirtless now?" He laughed. "It's February up there Sirius, you'd die of frostbite in minutes."

"You'd keep me warm, wouldn't you Moony," he grinned, uncrossed his arms and leered at him, the scars visible on his chest courtesy of Remus making him wince and try to avoid looking at him.

"Your knackers would fall right off," Remus shot back, very proud he barely had a change in expression.

"You'd keep me warm," Sirius repeated, quite the opposite now with a salacious grin.

Remus was saved the tongue-twisting issue of responding to that by Sirius himself, but in the future. His return note to Harry was more than distracting enough to draw everyone's attention.

"Why do you want to know the Hogsmeade dates?" Evans actually asked of him.

"To take a stroll around, obviously," he rolled his eyes at what he clearly thought was a stupid question.

"And you don't find that the least bit dangerous?" Longbottom asked as if checking his sanity, which clearly slipped a few degrees when he answered.

"Nah, I know that place like the back of my hand. Honestly, can't believe I haven't met up with Harry in there yet."

Potter was now picking mud out of his nails without a care in the world, but at least Lupin and Pettigrew were looking at him with slight concern. It was good to know they weren't all insane, Regulus decided.

He continued on with more build-up instead, including a lesson from Hagrid over baby unicorns and another pep-talk from the gamekeeper. He couldn't help but sympathize heavily with Harry when he didn't ask for help because he was too afraid of disappointing Hagrid, if that wasn't the story of his life in the shortest words possible he didn't know what was. Bolstering quickly past that found the eight of them all laughing in surprise at Ron's response to this challenge.

They all looked affectionately at the redhead floating behind them, his absurd suggestion to just shove his head in the lake and ask for, well himself back was ludicrous, but seeing him here in person really put a funnier spin on that. They were all equally eyeing Hermione with great interest. Her bushy hair was hardly subdued by the deep water, it was almost strange to see her without a book in her hand, even in this place, as that's how they always pictured her in their head.

Frank and Alice would readily admit it was a blessing and a curse not to see Neville down here, to even have the image of how he'd look like this for even a second, while also getting to admire him in the closest thing they would get to see in person.

"Do you think, if we'd ever been in the hospital wing while she was petrified, we would have seen her then?" Alice asked.

"I imagine so," Frank shivered in further unease, thinking they'd look even more dead with their eyes open and glassy.

It was a shame, Lily thought, that they couldn't watch all of this happen in real time regardless, while they stayed hidden away or something. She'd have liked to see Harry ageing before them if that had been the case, but now it seemed she may not even get to see a picture of him at this rate, let alone in the flesh.

As the twins led Ron and Hermione away to McGonagall, presumably leading them down here, they all began looking even more anxiously at his friends. What would happen to whomever Harry was down here to grab if he couldn't accomplish this task? This tournament was still years above him after all, and these two wouldn't be in real danger if he couldn't win at a game, right?

Then Dobby was shaking Harry awake, and the poor kid was having to rush down to this tournament, fearing for his best friend's life while swallowing a what exactly? None of them had heard of gillyweed!

James couldn't stand the tension anymore, he ruffled up his hair, the wet and mud causing a hilarious mess as he suavely turned to Evans and told her, "you know, I'd still come down here and get you even if I didn't have magic to hold my breath for an hour."

She gave him a sour look for joking at a time like this, the boy really had no bounds.

This remark did have the effect of getting someone else's attention though.

"What do you mean it'd be Evans down here?" Sirius Black whined like a kicked puppy. He came over and gave his friend a good prod in the side to make sure he had his full attention.

"Oh come on Padfoot, we all know the merpeople would have murdered you out of sheer annoyance, even if you were asleep. At least I have a chance at getting her out in time," James Potter more than happily teased him.

Lily was watching all of this with a single raised brow and complete disbelief this idiot thought she needed anyone's help, he knew better than anyone what she was perfectly capable of. So then it really was just a show, one her, Alice, and Frank found themselves sucked into. By the time Harry had eaten the odd plant, gotten into the water, and found himself past the grindylows, almost all of the tension had been sapped out of them.

Now Harry was actually down in the village, the first one to do so, and honest fascination as first Krum showed up, transfigured into a shark! James could have kicked himself he hadn't thought of that one, he really had been worried. Then Cedric with something odd, like a fishbowl on his head, they'd never even heard of that one. Then Harry decided enough was enough, he wasn't going to leave the poor little Fleur junior girl down here and took matters into his own hands, dragging her and his best mate up.

It was nice to have the chapter end on such a happy note for once, Regulus decided, as Harry was awarded high marks for his act of bravery, even if he should have realized they wouldn't have just left the kids down here to die, obviously, he'd known that all along... the errant thought didn't stop his eyes from lingering on the four one last time as he warned the others he was almost done, their gaunt faces and the meaning they held leaving him with a sinking feeling heavier than the mud they were still standing in. It was obvious who Sirius would have down here, whom everyone around him would be able to really answer in an instant they'd pick. It was an obvious answer to everyone, except him.