#does ocean or salty water even have a smell

[ninjautizm]

Another bit of a heatstroke trend on twitter that I wanted to draw Nya in for months now,, 🩵

[lordprettyflackotara]

hitchhiker || end of beginning

this is entirely fan service. enjoy <3

Your hair flew behind you, the salty wind blowing past you in a blur. You grinned at the smell of the ocean, watching your daughter, Nova, collect seashells along the shoreline. “Doesnt this one look cool?” She exclaimed, holding up a larger shell. You smiled and nodded, her curious chocolate eyes staring at you for an answer. “It looks lovely honey, it’ll look great for our collection,” You said encouragingly. After Nova grew a bit older you moved away from the woods, your past lovers haunting you. Nova was eleven now, her features starting to mature. You could never place whose she was. Her nose was shaped like Toby’s, her jawline sharp like Brian’s, and her eyes full and warm like Tim’s. Each day she reminded you more and more of them, her habits like theirs unknowingly. Toby’s energy, Brian’s love for tomato soup, Tim’s leadership. She had become quite the little adult at her new middle school, joining the debate club almost immediately as it was founded.

Yet she still had that childlike sense about her. Her cheeks were still a little chubby, her innocence still intact. Beside her was Jack, still wearing boots and his hoodie, even on the sandy beach. The beach was secluded, fenced in behind your new home. Jack still came to visit regularly, Nova having long adjusted to his appearance. She knew he was different and his existence was to be kept a secret, but she didn’t seem to mind at all. It was hard for her to when he came bearing gifts each visit. Truly he spoiled her, the demon shrugging and pretending he didn’t know what you were talking about when you called him out on it. “What do you think Uncle Jack?” Nova asked, holding it up to him. The demon pretended to be puzzled, before ruffling her thick y/h/c hair. “I think it would look better washed off, here,” He said, reaching down and cupping a handful of water. You watched as he surprised her, splashing water on her sundress. She gasped before giggling playfully, quickly splashing him back. You grinned at the sight, Nova’s laughter music to your ears.

“Scared to get wet princess?”

For a moment you thought you were hallucinating, jumping in surprise at the sight of Tim. A lazy unlit cigarette hung from his lips, Brian and Toby right behind him. “Holy shit,” You whispered. You ran towards them, desperately clawing at them to all hug you at once. You cupped each of their faces, your heart exploding with happiness. “How did you… you’re here. You’re real,” You whispered. You noticed Toby no longer had a bandage covering the side of his face, his gash revealed proudly. Tim’s hair had grown longer, framing his face. Brian’s stubble was growing out, poking at your palm as you cupped his face. “R-real as it c-can get,” Toby said proudly, giving you a goofy smile. You turned around, Jack holding Nova’s small hand as he walked her over to you and the boys. You were unsure how to explain this, your daughter’s concept of parents being only two individuals. Not four. “Who are they mama?” She asked, hesitantly staring up at them. You were speechless, her big bright eyes looking up at Jack for guidance. He crouched down to her level, the demon much taller than any of you. “You know how most kids are stuck with only two parents?” He asked. Nova nodded. You glanced at the proxies, each of them staring at her. They each saw a bit of themselves in her. You crouched down as well, the two of you trying to ease Nova into the situation.

“Well you’re so special you get four,” You say, poking her rounded nose. She gasped, looking at Tim, Brian, and Toby. “You have an Uncle Jack which is much cooler in my opinion but yes, you have four,” Jack added, grinning. His sharp teeth unfazed the girl, who instead widened her eyes. “Does this mean I get four times as many Christmas presents?” She asked, unable to conceal a giggle. “Yeah she’s definitely y/n’s kid,” Tim muttered, causing Brian to elbow him. Toby was the first to return Nova’s grin, matching her perky energy. “As many as you want kiddo,” He said, mentally happy he didn’t stutter. Nova studied his gash for a moment, before speaking, “You’re just like Uncle Jack.”

Toby nodded, his left arm twitching. “I’d debate i’m a lot cooler but yeah pretty much,” Jack snickered, rising to his feet. Brian cleared his throat, a bit anxious to speak to the precious girl who he knew to be their daughter. “Five bucks says I can collect more sea shells than you,” He said, causing Nova to form a mischievous grin. Toby shrugged off his hoodie, tossing his goggles aside. “O-oh you’re s-so on. Cmon N-Nova,” Toby cheered, carelessly running down the small beach. Nova chased behind him, her blue beach bucket swaying as she ran. For the first time since you had met Brian he looked content, calmly following them down the beach. “You knew?” You asked Tim, who had now lit his cigarette since Nova wasn’t around. “Jack may have kept her a secret for a long time, but buying monster high dolls kinda gave it away,” He explained. You hugged Tim’s jacket tighter around you, the previous tarnished material all sewed back together. “Toby followed him. He saw you getting Nova off of the bus. He knew immediately that she was one of ours,” He continued. He inhaled deeply, before passing the cigarette to you. You had ditched the habit a long time ago, but Tim’s scent of cigarettes and cologne was enough to make you want a hit. “Took a lot of planning, as well as some favor asking, but The Operator is dead,” Tim finished.

You stared wide eyed, looking at Jack for clarification. “Dont look at me. I wasn’t going to spoil the surprise,” He said plainly. Nova ran up to the three of you, grabbing the demons large hand. “Cmon Uncle Jack, you gotta help us win!” She cheered. Jack waved goodbye, following the small girl. You turned to Tim, inhaling the tobacco stick. “How did you do it? Kill The Operator I mean?” You asked. You felt the smoke swirl around your lungs, before you exhaled. The ocean breeze blew it away quickly, your hair brushing behind your shoulders. “I think that’s a story for another day, don’t you think?” Tim asked. He wrapped his arm around your shoulders, guiding you to look at the mini family you had created. Toby was splashing Jack in the shallow water, trying to distract him as Nova searched the shore for shells. Brian was attempting to take off his boots and socks quickly, his work boots not made for the beach. You leaned your head on his shoulder, a content smile creeping across your lips. You wondered who Nova actually belonged her, a lot of her personality traits and looks so similar to each proxy. You knew it didn’t matter though, each of them going to endlessly love her as their own.

Tim’s warmth was relaxing, the orange sunset setting beyond the horizon. “Son of a bitch!” She gasped, after falling into the ocean. Yeah, she was most definitely Tim’s.

[sanccharine]

15:14 | ny

pjo au

pairing: daughter of poseidon!nayeon x child of medea!reader

genre: angst

word count: 0.5k

warnings: none :]  

a/n: actually no idea what this is but enjoy ? definitely filled with errors <3 also i say medea, though it could be any magic/sorcery based god/goddess – in my head more circe and hecate and pasiphae type

You stand by the pier, watching dark waters move into the sand, pulling as it smoothens the land, before then receding back into its original form. 

Perhaps, you shouldn’t have come. 

Nayeon watches you with a frown. Her lustrous dark hair, stray strands whipping past her face with the salty wind even when she’s tucked it behind both ears. She usually hates it when it isn’t in place as she prefers, though for some reason, she does not bother to tie her hair back. 

“You’re certain?” She asks, her voice small, barely audible in the night. 

You look away from the waves that flatten the sand and up into her determined gaze. Her eyes were a well of emotions; frustration, hope…desperation. When she looks at you like that, you wonder how you ever find it in yourself to say no to her. But then, you also loathe it, how she weaponizes your weakness for her. Moments like this make you wonder why you even let her convince you, talk to you. 

Though, you suppose that's what the sea is like. An unpredictable force, a nasty current that pulls and drags you under if you are not careful. That was Nayeon. 

“Please,” she steps towards you at the same time you take a step back. A dance the pair of you have perfected. “Please.”

Nayeon’s frown deepens. When her pleading goes unanswered, her feelings of desperation give way to the simmering frustration just beneath the surface. Anyone can tell, Nayeon wears her expressions with no masks. You can tell just from the way she pursed her lips, her jaw locking in place as her eyes darken, growing stormy, just by a fraction. 

Besides, look at the water; almost glowing under the light of the full moon, the tides increasing in speed just enough the sea foam begins to froth as it crashes into stray rocks, eroding them into sand before your very eyes. 

Nayeon asks again with her hand extending out to fill the chasm between you. 

“Please come with me,” she pleads like no child of Poseidon should. “Please.” 

When you only stare at her hand, Nayeon tries one last time. 

“I can’t do this without you.” 

The sounds of waves crashing against the shore, against the pier, fills your mind. 

The smell of salt stings your senses, making you teary-eyed…yes, the salt. 

The biting cold of the droplets that fall at your bare feet reminds you where you stand…in front of whom you stand. 

“I can’t do this with you.” 

You don’t give her a chance to speak. To yell. To convince. 

To drag you in like the current she is. 

With a snap of your fingers, the mist hides Nayeon completely from your vision. And in turn, you from her. Powerful enough, it could be an illusion…powerful enough, a child of Poseidon wouldn’t be able to take a step forward to find you. 

You don’t take pride in tricking her—protecting her—whatever you think it is you’re doing. But it is something you must do. 

When the ocean comes to a near still, the waves half the force they’d just been…you knew this would be the last you’d see of Nayeon.   

any feedback is much appreciated.

a/n: i might like writing guys, that's crazyyyyyy anygays hope you have a good day/night :]

tagging: @someone-who-likes-broccoli @eternallyghosting

[hatsukeii]

fragrance: sailing day, replica / bokuto koutaro x reader

notes: aquatic accord (top), coriander (heart), red seaweed (base)

description: waves colliding with the hull of a boat, hair slicked beneath a blanket of seawater

disclaimer(s): pricey for what it offers

wc: 1613

warning(s): nothing!!! so so safe with me again today!!!

Your back arches against the railing of a sailboat, elbows propping you up against the cool metal as you breathe in the salty ocean. The rest of Fukurodani's volleyball team had retreated back into the beach house, washing away the sand and sea from their skin following a day of splashing around on the shore. Clad in nothing but a thin shirt and board shorts, you shiver at the night breeze that whirs past, whistling as it breaks the silence of the starry sky above. You breathe in again, yet the air no longer smells like salt, replaced by the stinging notes of mint and men.

"Kou, I swear can smell you from eight feet away."

Bokuto beams, a toothy grin plastered on his face as he descends the steps to the deck of the sailboat. His waist settles on the spot beside your own on the railing, hands going behind to press against the body of the boat. The rising tide sends waves crashing into the hull, and fine droplets of seawater tickle the tips of his fingers as he stares into the sky with you.

"Is my deodorant that strong, my beloved manager?"

"Yes, sweets. It's Axe deodorant, of course it's strong. What are you doing out here anyways? Won't they notice you're gone?"

Inching closer, his shoulder grazes against your own as he glances at you, hair still damp and droopy from his shower. You don't move away, relishing in the warmth of his contact.

"Out here trying to find you! They'll be fine in there without me anyways, so what if they notice?"

You chuckle, running your fingers through his wet hair as you ruffle his short strands, and droplets of water fling out at you. For somebody as boisterous and spontaneous as Bokuto, it's a miracle his teammates haven't figured the two of you out yet. Not the fleeting glances between you two when he's off court, nor the circles you absent-mindedly press into his shoulder blades after every match, not even the way he tosses you his water bottle for you to drink out of whenever you mention being thirsty.

"Your hair's still wet, and it's windy out here. You're going to get sick if you don't dry it off properly, Kou."

"Well, you're drying it for me like this now, so it's all good!"

Bokuto's hands come up from the hull of the boat to grab your own at the top of his head, bringing it down in front of him just to lock his fingers between yours. He takes a look at the sea ahead of him, sterling moonlight shimmering against pitch black water. His head inches towards yours earnestly, the pungent scent of Axe deodorant amplifies by tenfold at your proximity.

"Wanna take a dip?"

"Wh- now? You're in your pajamas and all!"

"Yeah! It's just a t-shirt and shorts anyways, I have another set! Please?"

His head tilts, and you curse doe-eyed Bokuto for being this difficult to refuse. Behind the hull of the boat, ocean waves crash against metal alluringly, hidden away from the rest of Fukurodani on the other side of shore. In your head, just for a bit, you'll be out of sight and out of mind to the rest of the team, free to have whatever it is between you two to yourselves, uninterrupted and unnoticed. That's more than you could really ask for, so you nod, and Bokuto runs to lower the boat ladder into the water, pushing himself over the railing and onto the steps. One arm reaches into the deck, and you push off against the railing as he pulls you up and over, steadying you with his hand in yours.

He doesn't spare a second in jumping into the sea without a warning, yanking you down with him as you manage to take half a breath in, before you are almost six feet below the surface. The saltwater stings your eyes as you search for Bokuto's, his hand still in yours yet his face nowhere to be found. He begins kicking, returning to the air as you drag along. As the two of you take in hearty inhales of oxygen, breaths syncing up, another breeze comes along and sends shivers through your soaked bodies. You waddle towards Bokuto's blurry figure, who swipes a hand through his slicked hair, and leads you back to the ladder.

Grabbing onto its handle, the cool metal beneath his palm holds him steady as he finally stops kicking beaneath the water. His other hand pulls at you, tugging you towards him. A strong arm wraps around your waist, pulling you close enough to loll his head over your shoulder, and you turn your head towards him. nuzzling your nose into the crook of his neck. His hair, softened by the water, pokes at your cheeks gently, and the striking notes of mint from his deodorant mixes with hints of sea salt and seaweed to form an amalgamation of the ocean's embrace. You smile into his neck, and he feels it in the way your lips curl up against his skin.

"You have no idea how much I've wanted this all day, away from the team." Bokuto's voice is velvet smooth, rid of the gruff tone that masks this version of him. This version of him who's a little warmer, and a little softer around the edges. Him, who follows you home after Friday night trainings, only to hold you wordlessly for hours as you fall asleep buried in his chest. Him, who beneath the fleeting glances, and shoulder rubs, and bottle sharing, waits impatiently every single day until the moment he can sit on a bench, or a couch, or a bed, and learn the details that make up who you are, over and over and over again until they become a part of him too.

"Feels nice, Kou. Feels really nice."

Bokuto pulls away, only for his lips to find your own, and you can taste the salt from your dive. Your hand comes up to hold his face, skin slick from the seawater, and your fingers rub and tug at his wet hair. Waves crash at your bodies against the ladder, swaying you left and right, and he pulls away, pearly moonlight illuminating his smitten smile and rosy cheeks.

"Hey, you two! We're doing game night, so hurry up and get back inside!"

Your heads shoot towards the sound of Akaashi yelling from the deck of the sailboat, and the two of you scramble to climb the ladder, twisting water from your shirts when you land on the wooden floor. Bokuto's head hangs low, too embarrassed to face his friend, whose hands sit on his hips as he watches him wipe a wet hand down his face. You look away from him, eyes training onto anything that is not Akaashi or Bokuto. Oh look! Isn't the moon so pretty tonight?

"I'll be right in, I just need to shower again, sorry."

Akaashi grins, giving Bokuto a knowing nudge on the shoulder with his fist. The kind of nudge that tells the two of you everything you need to know- that everybody else had already caught on, way ahead of time.

"There's no need to rush though, you guys take all the time you want out here, we can start knowing the two of you are off doing whatever it is-"

"We got it! We'll be in soon!"

author's note:

bokuto is such a cutie patootie:( i love him and his stupid emotional ass so much:( i was kinda stuck on how to write this because it was hard trying to make sure bokuto wasn't ooc but also was being really sweet because he's always just so like out there??? idk i was looking at other fics for inspo and he was always super loud and grand gestures and i wasn't really going for that so it was fun to try and incorporate his usual character into something more mellow like this!!

i swear if i keep writing about the ocean and beaches i might become a beach and ocean lover after a whole decade of swearing i hate it ermmmmmm

anyways tags!!

@chuuya-brainrot @fiannee @afyrian @starlysama @bailey-reeds @iiwaijime

ok love u guys see u soon bye bye

[joaofelix70]

A CRESCENT LOVE, AN EPHEMERAL PASSION | joão félix sequeira.

summary: you and joão spent all the summer together. you even met his friends and brother. could this be the beginning of a crescent love or just an ephemeral passion? his friendship with his ex would ruin everything between the two of you?

author's notes: after the win against luxemburgo, where portugal national team set the record of goals, his ex just posted "mysterious" pics with floki, his dog. joão was also there, almost hidden, actually. we all know she always does it, never assuming anything maturely, but instigating the frustration of the fans who care about him and to make every gossip website and tv show talk about it, just like a teenager who wants attention would act. basically, this inspired me. i really don't hate anyone, by the way. even thought influencers who don't spread any impactful content and nepobabies with no talent and only standard beauty annoys me, i can't lie.

warnings: bad language (of course it's joão saying the words), chaotically humorous almost all the time, but also involving sadness and angst. implicit sex reference, i guess? maybe?

what do you feel when you hear my name? shame? embarrassment?

does your brain even bring you any sign or memory involving me?

do you ever think about me?

are your moments with her comparable to ours?

can we talk? can we communicate?

is it my fault? do you miss me?

your head was drunk for the whirlwinds of questions that piled up and get bigger, like waves. they seemed to be drowning you. the glowing light and peace of your woody brown gaze gives you triggers. his smile remains embedded, in your heart, an eternal home. the numbness and wrapping of his lips, every inch of his tanned skin and firm muscles being appreciated and admired by you. his hair was shiny, soft and full by the salty waters of the european beaches: always caressed for you. his laughs at you giving him the most silly and lazy hairstyles, with you pretending to be a professional who was filming your customer to tiktok.

“do that pose! yes, your hand against your face! now, give me that playboy eye. just like that! you’re doing amazing, sweetie!”

when you get carried away in the game ‘who am i?’ and tried so hard doing the mimes, jumping excitedly and demonstrating your animation in a loud tone, before covering your own mouth and feigning naturalness, just to repeat the same instant acts.

when you made joão watch your random dances as soon as you won at uno and he’d tell how hilarious you were. when you cooked your regional foods and desserts for félix, his brother who’s hugo, alex — the photographer — diogo from the movemind channel and all of his friends. when he used to hold your face, rest his touch on your waist and thighs. tracing his fingerprints across your scalp, reveling in the ethereal smell of your hair, laying his lips against your entire face and stature, exalting you completely: from your ears, neck, collarbone, belly, legs and even your feet. being a gentleman, joão opened the car door for you, he intertwined the hands of you both in every single opportunity and helped you eat: having the cutlery for you to open your mouth and giving you support with the napkin. when you did his goal celebration. when the two of you invented a handshake, along with various inside jokes. for example, when joão posted many videos of him swimming and playing in the ocean.

“hey, flounder! ‘the little mermaid’? i loved it!”

“why am i not your ariel, tho?”

“why you didn’t say you’d prefer to be eric of the real life?”

“give me some respect, i’m the protagonist of this shit!”

“slay, king!”

you remember singing the songs that played in his car in the most chaotic way, using his hand as a microphone and taking the opportunity to kiss all over it and his fancy bracelets. you offered him affection biting his skin and enjoyed acting like his personal masseuse. you called him ‘my prince of portugal’.

“please, don’t become a stranger.” your last words, face to face. the intensity of the summer weeks of vacation, which were already ending, consuming you.

“you know i’d never do that. look, you’re such a unique person, and even though we’re gonna go back to our busy routines, i still wanna keep you in my life. i still wanna be that close to you.” joão declared and they both found comfort in each other’s arms. his perfume granted the beg leave and penetrated your lungs, giving you life. you felt like you shouldn’t let it go, but there was nothing else to accomplish. you were single, so was he. you ask yourself if everything would be different. maybe if you had tried your lips once again: asking him to give a chance to them, to have more. to not leave what you went through, together, in the box of forgotten memories. would that really suffice, though?

"it's obvious that you’d choose the blonde influencer with light eyes, slender body and member of a rich family. the one who was with a formula 1 racer days before she went to meet you. before you just disappear from my life, without saying anything. the one that doesn't show an ounce of authenticity and, of course, affective responsibility. who am i in comparison to her?! right, joão?" your voice flashed the disparity of fragility and indignation, trembling hands clutching the phone.

“y/n, listen to me. you’d never understand it, okay? you’re not inside this relationship, me and her are. you’re seeing it from the outside, just like everyone else. yeah, she was hanging out and making out with other people. so was i with you. but then, some things changed.” john seemed to be busy. echoes of other people's voices ran through the call.

“nothing has happened between us since the vacation, joão. what doesn’t make sense because i thought you were liking me. i only think about you!” you vented out and received silence. his answers tried to become existent and complete. he stammered, the audible sound of his familiar backwards cap being pulled off and his honey-colored hair being rubbed against his own fingerprints.

“do you think i don’t like you? holy shit, y/n. i even thought we could have so much more. a future together and everything. i think about you and i swear in the name of my family, and i already said that they mean the fucking world to me. the thing is: there’s something that still keep me going back to her. i don’t know if it’s because i’m with her since i was younger, but…”

“joão, this is emotional dependence. i’m sorry to tell you this, however, it’s necessary. i care about you. you’re so internally and externally beautiful, precious, successful and talented. you deserve better!” you interrupted him, stepping back and forth.

“y/n, i love her. when i looked at you…”

“she’s all that you see, right?”

“hm… yeah…” félix found himself in a bind. paralyzed, he remained without an answer for a while. the coldness of the material of his gold necklace touches his tongue: a way to combat the nervousness that generates the gnawed nails.

“my toxic behavior wants to help and fix you so badly, but i know i can’t get more involved than that. i’m not the one for you.” the words reproduced by yourself reinforced the fragmentation of your heart.

“j, baby… are you coming or not? i’m waiting for you, floki is waiting for his dad!” you heard that female voice call to him and realized the way that just this factor made his breathing destabilize.

“i think this is officially the end of whatever we had, joão. goodbye!” your voice was unstable and he realized it: sharp as deep, transparent and suffocating waters.

“i wish you the best, y/n. i apologize for not being what you expected, what you needed, and…”

“caralho, joão! que merda! (holy fuck, joão! what the hell?). come on, give me your phone!” the girl began to rant. her heels against the floor were exclamatory. she was running out of patience.

the call is over. again, you were superimposed on the ocean of blazing tears. you tried to convince yourself that everything went the way it was supposed to be.

but was it for real?

[11queensupreme11]

OKKKKAY IDK IF YOU STILL NEED HELP FOR PERCY’S SCENT! But as someone who used to work as a fragrance chemist this is up my alley 😤 you should’ve said something sooner girlie.

Also please note idk why but it won’t let me put the pics with each perfume I’m talking about so I’m putting the pics in order from what I typed

BVLGARI AQVA MARINE… hear me out.. it’s for men 😭 BUT GIRL look what it has… I LIKE THIS ONE CAUSE WHEN I SMELLED IT ONCE IT HAD A NICE SALTY SEAWEED VIBE LIKE SMELL and our girl is called seaweed brain 🥹 and look at the bottle … it kinda matches her eyes

So the rest aren’t best to worst just a whatever and what I remember 😭

Heeley's Sel Marin (unisex) Okay so this one is nice it def got a salt water smell almost like you walking on the beach when it’s sunny and you kinda smell the saltiness the ocean has to offer when walking near the ocean and it does have a seaweed funk to it not as much but it’s there.

Tom Ford Oud Minerale (unisex fragrance) Okay so here is this one… I go shopping for perfume/ cologne a lot so I have smelled this one recently, so I add the description if you wanna read it, if I remember this one does capture the fragrance of the ocean but it does have a bit of “fresh water” but it’s a bit brackish (so it’s between fresh and seawater) so it’s does capture the sea heavily almost like when you go walking during the night and the breeze is blowing in the air and you can smell the ocean a bit more than the day ( that how I see it)

Armani Privé - Bleu Lazuli Okay so this is not like beach or ocean but it does have nice smell (the description explains it nicely ) I know of this one cause I used to buy it 😭😭 the design is so pretty and it match daddyseidon aesthetic too 😭 # bias

Jo Malone Wood Sage and Sea Salt (Unisex) So this one is nicceee I put this cause it says salty in the description but tbh it leans toward freshie and it captures the smell of the ocean quiet nicely but it’s a little woodsy tho and it made me think of her daddy cause of this chapter where Anubis said she got her dad scent all over her (isn’t the mf scenting her or something???). So it made think how they may smell alike but people can smell her dad’s scent so that’s where the woodsy comes in to tell their scents apart.

Sea of Gray

I honesty came across this one when doing my research and the description seems on point for you tbh I haven’t smelled it but what it says sounds like it may be but if has that ocean like feel I am not sure … also the first website I clicked said it cost $22 which is cheap if Percy ever wants to buy it compare to the rest of them 😭 this I couldn’t add the description but you can search them up

Anyway you can see that even tho they have a salty/ fresh water based to some they always have an extra thing added like spice or vanilla so don’t think toooo much on it. Cause even these things aren’t 100% close to smelling like the actual sea. But hopefully the description of them can help you!!

IM SORRY BESTIE, I ALREADY GOT THE FRAGRANCE FROM HER I SHOULD'VE WENT TO YOU FIRST 😭😭😭

i picked mermaid's embrace from deep midnight perfumes

literally i just googled "perfume mermaids sirens" and then a reddit post came up and i saw this one listed 😭 i liked the description so i went with it 💀

BUT YOU USED TO WORK AS A FRAGRANCE CHEMIST????? omg i remember your super detailed post about the yanderes scents and that explains so much lmaooo that sounds so cool though!!!

[tailsbeth-writes]

Prompt 6 FirstPrince!

I figured if anyone requested this, it would be for FirstPrince. Henry would have definitely read the book & seen the film of Holding the Man (I couldn't recommend enough but remember the tissues!). Find this on Ao3!

TW: Depression, dark thoughts in general - look after yourselves! ❤️

When Henry rolls over in bed that morning, he knows it's going to be a bad day. The sheets are cold next to him, the clock tells him it's 6.03 so Alex is out on his run. Henry can't think of anything worse right now, the mere thought of sunlight is painful.

His hand stretches to the bedside table, tapping momentarily as he finds his phone. He sends 🏴 emoji to Percy, a symbol system they set up a while ago so that Percy gets a heads up he won't be at the shelter but it takes minimal effort for Henry. He scrolls out of some sick curiosity to see when the last one was. It was a month ago, after a trip to London. Serves him right for trying with his grandmother, he thinks.

He puts his phone on the table and rolls himself over. The duvet envelopes him as he shuffles further into it. It smells like tea, coconut moisturiser, coffee, sweat, cologne... It smells like them. And yet, all of that brings no comfort to Henry today. His mind is trapped in a dark vice, and while that may be the case far less frequently these days, it still fills him with the endless questions of why.

Why am I like this?

Why does Alex even stay?

Why won't this stop?

Henry has never been hugely spiritual but days like this make him worry for his soul. When the numbness hits him so hard, he can barely believe he even has one. It is like it has been swallowed whole by a great fog overnight. Henry feels stranded, to simply watch his essence vanish.

'Baby, Hen, can you hear me?'

Henry blinks and he can now see Alex's face. He can smell Alex's grapefruit shower gel that he keeps in the downstairs bathroom so he doesn't disturb Henry with his post workout shower.

'Alex, I... I can't...'

Henry barely recognises the strained tone that escapes his lips. He can feel the bed shift as Alex moves closer and kisses his hair before backing away, Alex is saying something but he can't take in the words. It's like he's stuck at the bottom of the ocean, everything blurred and muffled. Henry wishes he could swim to the top but he knows he wouldn't make it.

'I got you, can you drink this for me?'

There's a sports bottle at Henry's lips, he tips his head back a little as Alex guides him. The water is cold, it stings Henry's gums a little.

'Pills next, okay?'

Henry manages a nod this time and Alex starts to put his pills in his mouth and guides the water bottle again. Henry can't help but think they seem pointless. If he can't leave bed, then they can't be working, can they?

'They're not a cure all Henry, you know they help.'

'Stop reading my mind.'

'Stop thinking out loud then sweetheart.'

Alex put the water and pill bottles to the side and lies down next to Henry. Henry lets himself study Alex's face; the slight eye bags that he'll never get rid of any time soon, his perky lips that Henry wishes he yearned for and the stubble that he'd been leaving for the past few days. His eyes look so hopeful, as if Henry is going to offer him the world. That's when it all hits Henry. The tears fall down his cheeks.

'I'm so sorry, Alex.'

Alex pulls him in tightly, the warmth of his skin anchors Henry to something solid. His salty tears touch his mouth as he sobs into Alex's neck. Alex is whispering in Spanish and Henry feels oddly soothed, despite not having a clue.

'I will love every inch of your soul even when you can't see it. Okay, Hen?'

Henry nods into Alex. He can only wait and wonder now.

[viktoriaashleyyx]

The High Lord and the Selkie

"Lord long have I loved you, as a selkie on the foam, I would gladly go and wed thee and be lady of your home, but to stay on land past midnight, it would surely be my death."

Tarquin Bonus chapter, can stand alone. Influenced heavily by The Maiden and the Selkie by Heather Dale.

I've been in my Tarquin feels recently, he needs some love. Bonus chapter for A Court Reborn. Also this is Pro Tamlin, he doesn't have a large part, but does show up towards the end.

Word Count: 3085

Tarquin art // Ocean Art // Selkie Art

One cool Summer morning, before the Sun rose fully to heat the land, Tarquin sat out on the private fishing pier at the edge of his estate, pants rolled up to his knees, legs dangling above the clean Sea water. This was his favorite place, he would come here every chance he could get to just sit and watch the Sea. More than half of his life was spent trapped under the mountain, facing disgusting cruelties daily, never able to feel the Sun on his skin, he would not take the sight of the waves rolling in and the smells of the salty air for granted.

As a small child, his mother would take him to this very spot and teach him how to swim. He would run full speed into the water forcing his mother to dive in after him. His heart ached, now all he had left of her were his memories. Her sweet smile, the way her voice always softened when speaking to him, how he never had any doubt that she would protect him, and she did. Until her dying breath. Until Amarantha waved that ugly wrist of hers and stole her from him. Such a small gesture, movement, and his entire world was ripped out from under him.

No. He had to stop himself. The dark thoughts of those days always found a way to creep back in. “Remember your mother as she lived, don't let Amarantha continue to steal your light.” he would tell himself in times like this. He wanted nothing more than to forget that horrid witch.

He continued watching the waves crash into the pier, it was high tide so every now and then the Sea water would splash and kiss his feet gently. He liked to believe that was his mother, reaching out to him to remind him that she will always be with him. As the sun rose above the horizon, the sky was painted in the most beautiful shades of oranges and yellows. Sometimes, he felt like the sea was staring back at him. He felt a strong pull towards the sea, he considered it a side effect of his High Lord powers.

Just below the surface of the water, a selkie watched him longingly. Her seal eyes allowed her to see through the waves, and for months now she would leave the safety of her underwater town and travel close to the surface, just to get a glimpse of the most beautiful male she had ever seen.

Her name was Maive and she was the daughter of a decently well off Seal Lord. Well, would be well off if she wasn’t one of eight girls. She was the fourth born, middle child that no one paid too much attention to. She had grown to cherish the freedom that came with it. She could shed her seal coat and join her friends at parties in Adriata without anyone noticing she was gone. But, if she ever allowed herself to think too hard about it, she would long for someone who would care. Someone to notice when she's had a rough day, or even remember that her favorite color was teal, not pink.

She watched the male intensely, hoping that one day he would shed his clothes and jump in the water, or that she would be able to muster the courage to crawl on land and say something to him, anything. His white loc’d hair hung down to his mid chest and contrasted his dark brown skin beautifully. She dreamed of his gorgeous face, his light blue eyes, wide nose and could only imagine what a smile would look like on those lovely full lips. It was obvious he was a “High Fae” as they called themselves, and she was a “lesser fae.” Lesser. That’s what his people thought of her. Lesser. Even if she ever did get a chance to hear his voice, he would never think of her as more than just a subject. That's what her sisters told her. That's why we stay in the ocean and rarely go ashore.

She had heard different sentiments though. When the Red haired witch's curse was broken, a new High Lord of Summer returned, one who dreamed of bridging the divide between High and Lesser fae. The rumors were spotty and she picked up what she could during her trips, but she was barely 70 years of age, most of her friends didn’t like discussing politics. She had heard enough to scrounge up a little bit of childish hope. Even if that's all it ever became, she would allow herself this fantasy, happiness was happiness, even if it was fleeting.

Maive felt a twinge of sadness as Tarquin rose to leave. She knew he wouldn’t stay out here all day, and she cursed herself for, once again, not having the gall to speak to him. She knew her Fae form was beautiful to the people of Adriata. Her seal coat looked more or less like her sisters, black beady eyes that helped her see through the waves, soft gray skin and a cute belly that kept her warm in the ocean depths. But when she shed her coat and joined her friends on shore, the hair on her head was long, to the backs of her knees, a pale greenish color, her skin a darker shade of green with near black freckles lining her cheeks and nose. She doubted it was enough to win the heart of a High Fae male.

♥♥♥♥♥

A few days later, Maive had snuck off to visit her friend, Marielle, and plan their outfits for the upcoming ball at the Summer castle. High Lord Tarquin had sent out flyers inviting everyone in Adriata to the large party he was throwing at his seaside estate. A celebration for winning the war, and the breaking of the curse. The repairs in the city were finally coming to completion. Maive’s knowledge of Prythian current events was lacking considering she would die if she even tried to stay on land past midnight.

“We have to find the perfect dresses,” Marielle gushed excitedly to Maive, “this party will be High Fae and Lesser Fae, do you understand how big this is? We’ve never been welcome at the castle! Maybe this new High Lord is true to his word.” Marielle was a urisk and always kept Maive informed of everything happening on land. “Your mystery man could be there” She teased with a knowing smile.

“Will you stop it!” Maive giggled, “I’m already nervous enough as it is!” Marielle would tease Maive for her crushes and Maive would tease Marielle for her lack of crushes. Marielle, while she loved the parties and dancing, she had never shown much interest in romance for herself. She was content and happy, living in her little apartment in the city square, all her own. She could do as she pleased, stay up as late as she wanted, and invite over whoever she wanted. She had a healthy amount of platonic friends and that filled her heart.

♥♥♥♥♥

The day of the ball, the girls along with a few more friends, gathered back at Marielles apartment to get ready. Her house was the closest, so it required the least amount of walking to the castle. Maive had picked out a shimmery blue gown that made her dark green skin glow. It had skinny straps and a flowing neckline, just enough to showcase her favorite part of her body, her shoulders and neck, and flared out into a mermaid cut at the knees. Marielle curled her hair and added bright green shimmery eyeshadow to Maive’s eyelids. She felt like royalty.

As the girls entered the castle, excited and giggly, it took mere seconds for Maive to spot him. It's like she was pulled towards him. The entire world stopped and she froze as his eyes shifted towards, and caught on her. He was the High Lord Tarquin.

As Tarquin was entertaining the courtiers and citizens in the ballroom, his attention was abruptly pulled toward the door and whatever he was saying left his mind completely. He saw a beautiful young fae, with dark emerald skin and a cute round face. Her big black eyes shimmered in the lights of the ballroom. “Excuse me,” he said, barely looking back to the people he was just speaking to. He was in a trance, he had to talk to her.

Maive shifted her eyes to Marielle, the anticipation looked like fear at first thought, she expected she would have a bit more time, as the nerves grew she reached out for Marielles hand. “Do you see him?” Marielle knew what was going on, she had assumed Maive would be overwhelmed and chose to stay near. “Him? That's Tarquin.” Marielle exclaimed in an excited whisper, noticing Tarquin making his way toward her she added, “no backing out now, just be yourself, I will be close by. You got this.”

“Excuse me, Lady, may I have this dance?” Tarquin tried to hide his shaking, he felt just as nervous as Maive did. All she could manage was a nod as she carefully took his hand. A lump in her throat, led her to believe her voice would crack if she tried to speak. Their eyes had not left each other. She allowed him to lead her to the middle of the ballroom. All eyes fell to them, but neither noticed. As they began to dance, their nerves melted away.

Maive had never learned how to ballroom dance, but following Tarquins lead was easy. It came naturally to her. Chrisseada saw what was happening and took over Tarquins entertaining duties. Her cousin deserved this, and it made her heart happy seeing him happy.

As the music slowed, Tarquin pulled Maive into his chest, and planted a soft kiss on her forehead. She smiled and rested her head on his chest.

They danced through the night, neither wanting to let go of the other, even for a moment. Until, that is, Marielle cut in. “I’m sorry to interrupt, but it is 11:30,” Marielle whispered to Maive, “you need to be heading out now if you are to make it to the sea in time.”

For the first time in her life, Maive resented her binds to the ocean. She looked at Tarquin with sadness in those big dark eyes, “I’m sorry, I have to go.” The words were hard to speak, but she trusted Marielle was looking out for her. Letting go of his hand was harder.

Tarquin pulled her in close, one last time and whispered in her ear “Do you trust me?” She shook her head ‘yes’ and he winnowed them to the shoreline.

Her head spun as she took in her surroundings and noted the feel of the sand seeping into her sandals. Tarquins arms felt like home to her, not her city underwater. She wanted nothing more than to stay. “I am sorry, I just needed a few more minutes with you.” His voice was like a beautiful melody in her ear, now that she could hear it clearly. “What is your name?” He needed to hear her voice again, too.

“Maive,” she whispered, looking up at him, trying to process the absolute perfection of this evening, not wanting it to end, ever.

“Maive,” He repeated, she had never loved her name more than hearing it on his lips. It dripped graciously from them like honey. He leaned in to kiss her, and her heart began to beat faster, until she had a thought that cut it off before it even happened.

“My coat!!” She cried. You would think she knew to keep better track of it, given it is her life on the line, but she can’t help being aloof at times. She began searching for it frantically, she usually left it under the pier by Marielles apartment, but Tarquin hadn’t winnowed them to the same spot she entered from. Tarquin understood and immediately began helping her look for it.

“Is this what you are looking for?” Tarquin asked innocently, holding up the soft, but heavy, gray coat.

“Put that down. You don’t know what this would mean.” Maive reluctantly cried. For another Fae to return her seal coat to her, they would be wed. It couldn’t happen this way. She wanted him to choose her, not be bound to her by tradition.

He listened and set it on the ground, and took a few steps back. She ran to slip it on, halfway, and Tarquin led her into the water.

Tarquin held her close to his chest, forehead pressed to hers as the moon rose directly above them. “I will find a way. I promise,” he breathed as a tear escaped, running down her cheek. She kissed him deeply, there were no fireworks, no butterflies, she felt safe, calm. It was better than she had ever fantasized.

“Goodbye, Tarquin,” she gave him a soft smile as she dipped under the waves and returned to her seal family.

♥♥♥♥♥

Tarquin had called to meet with the three people whom he trusted and would know the best. He winnowed to the front door of the Spring Court manor just as Sky had done a month prior upon their first meeting. The trellises scaled the building and were covered in red roses, Spring was healing. That sentiment made him happy. During the reign of Amarantha, Tamlin had taken Summer court citizens in, even celebrated the Solstice to provide them some form of comfort in the times Tarquin was trapped under the mountain. Tarquin always believed that Tamlin had a good heart under all of that stone.

“I have a meeting with the High Lord, Tamlin” Tarquin held his head high and spoke confidently, as Crisseada commanded him to. The guards led him through the halls of the manor and he noted how much repair has been done in such a short time. It was only a few months ago that Tarquin had seen the Manor in complete ruin following Hyberns attack. At the time he hadn’t fully understood why Tamlin chose to side with Hybern, but when Tarquin saw him show up to the battlefield, hand around Barons throat to turn the tide, and ultimately win the war for Prythia, he knew Tamlin was smarter than he was given credit for.

He entered the large meeting room with a circular table in the middle. Tamlin, Sky and Lucien were already there waiting on him. Sky gave him a big smile and a tight hug. “Welcome to Spring, High Lord Tarquin,”

Tamlin and Lucien shook his hand and Tarquin was nervous as he sat down. “You seem to be more.. cheerful than the last time we saw you, Tarquin, what’s going on?” Tamlin asked lightly, noticing Tarquins nerves.

Tarquin wasn’t sure how to begin. He suspected Maive to be his mate, but a High Lord mated to a – he stopped himself even in his thoughts, we won't use those terms anymore. She is a Selkie, nothing about her is Lesser. “I have a bit of a predicament, and I thought who better to ask than the three of you. With Skys otherworldly wisdom, Lucien’s knowledge of Prythia due to being a well traveled emissary, and Tamlins.. Shapeshifting, I was hoping the four of us could come up with a way for me… to wed my mate.” The last few words came out cautiously.

Sky gasped and smiled wide, “What is her name? Where did yall meet?? What's keeping you apart?” Her excitement steadily decreased.

“Her name is Maive and she is a Selkie.” Tarquin announced proudly. All three of them immediately understood the predicament, but Lucien flinched. Memories of Jesminda, of when he tried to wed a lower class fae, flooded in. Tarquin wasn't much older than Lucien was when he lost Jesminda. He reassured himself that Tarquins situation is different, for starters, Tarquin doesn’t have Baron breathing down his neck.

“I have never heard of a selkie remaining on land and living to dawning, have you, Sky?” Lucien thought aloud.

“Never,” Sky responded and Tarquin shrank in disappointment. “We could ask Helion? I’m sure there is something in his lib–”

“No.” Lucien snapped, but softened quickly. “If word gets out, the older High Lords will seek to kill her. They do not like those they view as lesser than them marrying into power.”

“I would never let anything happen to her.” Tarquin assumed Lucien was insinuating he was too weak to protect his own people. To protect her. He still held shame for allowing the Night Court to steal from him.

“You might not have the chance, if we erupt into civil war.” Lucien warned. Two completely different wounds clashing. Neither meant harm or disrespect.

“What if you resided in the sea? Instead of her leaving her home behind, you join her?” Tamlin diverted the subject back to the reason for the meeting, noticing the tension. Tamlin knew both Tarquin and Lucien's reasons, but that can be clarified at a different time.

“My powers revolve more around bringing the sea to land, I cannot breathe underwater if that's what you are asking. My beast form can. But I need rage to shift into beast form and when I am around her, all I feel is calm. I have tried all I can think of.” Tarquin clarified.

“What if you could shift without the rage?” Tarquin was confused at Tamlins question, he just told him he couldn’t. Tamlin stretched out his hand to Tarquin and in it, a kernel of his power. Lucien, Sky and Tarquins eyes all widened in shock. “When we revived Feyre, she was able to retain a small amount of each of our powers, who is to say you wouldn't? I’ve done this twice before, I doubt you would need to be dead to accept it. And you are far more deserving than the last prick I gave one to.” Tarquin accepted the kernel and took it in his hand. “You, hopefully, will be able to at least shift yourself some gills. I can help teach you, and I’m sure Sky and Lucien will continue searching for a way for her to stay on land.”

“Are you sure?” Tarquin whispered. Was it really that easy? Just one small kindness from the neighboring High Lord to ease the biggest burden plaguing Tarquin these days. Tarquin pressed the kernel into his chest.

Tag list for main fic: @ladythornofrivia @rcarbo1 @rin-u-pos @knoxic @lilah-asteria @littlefantasylover @julesvanslutta

@theegemini92 also expressed interest ❤️

[pureblisswrites]

A guide to accidental murder and cover up 101

"Because then I'll have to kill you." He whispered in that scary, serious voice of his. You knew by now that he was probably just joking again.

"Can you not joke about killing me all the time?" You rolled your eyes.

"Who said I was joking?"

Pairing: Uni Student! Reader x Hwang Hyunjin

Word count: 4k

Genre: Crime, mafia au, eventual romance, Rom-com (I hope)

Warnings: Attempted sexual assault although nothing graphic, unintentional murder, general blood and gore descriptions, minor character death, criminal activities

Summary: You didn't think you'll become a murderer on a particularly slow night at the convenience store while trying to complete your uni essay that was due tomorrow. And you definitely didn't think an angel of a man would help you clean up the crime scene out of nowhere. Did people this kind really still exist in the world? Spoiler alert: Of course not. Because the reason he's helping you goes far deeper than the kindness of his heart.

This story takes place in the same universe as "A guide to being kidnapped and escaping 101" but with a different reader. I suggest you can read that too if these kind of stories are your type. But both can be read as standalones too.

You were in deep.

Like a million feet deep in a dark, cold ocean. That's why you felt like you couldn't breathe at all. That's why water was leaking from your eyes like a never ending waterfall. That's why you couldn't see anything past the salty tears and everything was blurry, you didn't know if it was your eyes or the world. You hoped for the latter but felt it would be the former, and it was.

It was an accident. A mistake. You didn't mean to do it. No, you wouldn't have ever done something like this even in your dreams much less in real life. You had just murdered someone.

It had all happened so quickly, you didn't have time to process anything. One minute you were trying to type your essay on playwriting and dramaturgy that was due tomorrow on your phone on a particularly slow night in the convenience store, the next you were getting the man jelly beans from the third aisle that apparently his daughter loved and the next minute he was pushing you into the wall, trying to take your clothes off. You panicked. As one does...you think? No one ever taught how to deal with a situation like this in school. You wanted to mock Mrs Lee now who had told you maths would help you in every situation, sure it will. You just flailed your hands, took the can opener from the desk and stabbed it into his neck.

It was a sight you never wanted to see again. Blood spurting from his throat, him choking on his own blood and trying to say something you couldn't make out even if you tried. He struggled for two minutes you think, for you it felt like two decades. You had never seen this much blood. Ever. And finally, he fell back on the floor knocking the milk cartons. Great now you'll have to arrange those again. What the fuck? Were you thinking about milk cartons right now? Really? Yeah you were.

You knew it'll take you some time for you to process this, start crying properly and think rationally. Till then you had to clean this puddle of blood. The metallic smell was slowly starting to take over you senses. You felt so dizzy. Taking a bottle of bleach and scrubs from the fifth aisle you started scrubbing the blood before it dries, or atleast tried to.

You totally did not forgot to turn the open sign on the door to closed and someone totally wasn't standing in front of you looking at you trying to clean a murder scene, your mind tried to convince you.

You looked up to see probably the most beautiful man to walk on this earth. His eyes were a bit wide but definitely not wide enough for someone who was looking at a crime scene for the first time. Shit he was a police officer or detective, wasn't he?

"Uh, hi... Can I help you?" You mentally facepalmed for asking this question in such a situation.

"Looks like you need more help than me right now." He stated simply. He walked towards you and plucked out a chocolate bar from the stand beside you. "That bleach you're using won't remove the stains completely. Do you have any oxygen producing detergents here?" He asked while unwrapping the chocolate.

He seemed causal about this. Too causal. Like he just walked in his friend's get together party instead of a place where there was a crime scene. You know you should be alarmed as to why he isn't alarmed or maybe why does he have this knowledge but you think you're not in the position to be asking questions right now. Maybe he's a medical student or something? That's plausible.

When you just looked at him without saying anything, he understood that you didn't understand anything he said. "Do you have any detergents like vanish or something around here?" He asked in simpler language, now taking a bite from the chocolate. You nodded standing up to get it.

He was looking around like he was searching for something so you asked "Do you need anything?"

"Nah. Just looking for security cameras." He answered while going to the door and turning the sign to "closed" and closing the blinds.

"We don't have those here." You said.

"Is that so?" He asked squinting at the mirror behind the cashier's desk, your desk. He touched his finger on the mirror and looked behind it. You didn't know what he was doing so you turned to scrubbing the stains again. By now the bleeding from the man's neck had almost stopped and the puddle had gotten bigger.

"Gotcha." He whistled. Just as you were about to ask what did he get, he took the paperweight from the desk and smashed it in the mirror.

"Are you fucking insane!?" You exclaimed. Did he just break Mr Choi's favourite mirror? Yes he did. Did he just double the mess you'll have to clean up now? Yes he fucking did.

"Might be." He took out a little circular chip with a beeping red light on it. The red light died slowly as he crushed it under the weight of his long fingers "Who's the owner of this store? Jaehyun Choi right?" He asked.

"Jaewon Choi." You corrected.

"Yeah, yeah. Same thing. That man is a bastard. How did you even believe he didn't put a camera here" He chuckled without any humor. What was his deal? "Anyways, who are you?"

"Why? Are you gonna go to the police?" You sincerely asked. You were worried but honestly you wouldn't mind if you got arrested. You knew you had done something very terrible and you were tired of scrubbing. You were really sleep deprived and you had to finish your theatre assignment that was due tomorrow. Prison didn't seem like a particularly bad option right now.

He chuckled again "Honey, if I wanted to go to the police I would've done that by now don't you think?"

"I guess so." You shrugged. Thinking that things were already bad and couldn't get any worse than this, you decided to answer his question. "I'm a student in the uni nearby. I've been working here for about 3 months part time to uh... pay rent."

He hummed. "What major are you?"

"Theatre."

"Funny. I've got a friend there too." He shrugged opening the locked drawers with a freaking paperclip of all things...wait what was he opening the drawers Mr Choi has specifically told you to not touch? He was. And then he took out some papers out, folded them and put them in his winter coat's pocket. You had given up on trying to make sense of whatever he was doing or whatever was happening.

"Are...are you a medical student or something?" He laughed at that. Like actually laughed out loud.

"Do I look like a medical student?" He genuinely asked.

"I don't know, I mean that's why you know so much about...detergents right?" You look at him expectantly to confirm your theory but when he doesn't say anything and just looks at you like you've got devil horns on your head which who knows maybe you did it's not like you just killed someone right? You know you're a bit too far off from the reality. "You aren't a student then, are you?" You ask again searching for any answer as to who was this kind man that stumbled upon you and was now pretty much helping you clean up a fucking murder scene.

"Nope." He answers biting his lower lip like he's trying to hide his smile. Now that you look, his lips are really pretty. Just an observation.

"So wait...wait are you like a serial killer that actually knows how to cover up crime scenes and you aren't phased by this body and blood here-" you gesture to the puddle of blood there "because you're used to it and now you're going to kill me, oh my god, are you going to kill me? Can you just do it already because if I clean all this up and then you kill me it wouldn't be of any use. Like first of all, there would be blood all over here again. Secondly, my efforts would be rendered useless like why am I even cleaning this up if I'm just gonna die and thirdly, how awful and kinda ironic it would be that I covered up a murder only to get murdered myself after that." You gasp for breath after the long rant you'd just finished.

"Actually no, there wouldn't be blood all over here again. Who says you need to make a mess of blood to kill someone?" You looked at him in horror and he laughed again. "I'm kidding. Don't you think I would've already murdered you by now if I wanted to?" He grinned looking you in the eyes.

"I guess so. So you aren't...a murderer right?" You questioned again just to confirm.

"Not exactly." He smirked.

"So then...who are you?"

"Is it really that important to know? C'mon let's help you get rid of this body now." He stated as casually as if he was telling a weather forecast. You stand there in shock. Not being able to comprehend how this saint of a man had stumbled in your life at the best possible moment. "Hey don't just stand there. I'm strong sure but not enough to carry this man all by myself. Give me a hand will you?" He gestured for you to help him carry the man. Oh right.

"Where do we have to carry him though?" You question stumbling on your feet while holding the disgusting and now dead man's hands while the stranger held him by the ankles and walked backwards until he reached the door and pushed it open with his back.

"Oh just till that car." He gestured with his eyes to a freaking Tesla of all things.

"Um who's car is that?" You ask dumbfounded.

"Well you already have a crime on your record, wouldn't wanna add grand theft auto too. So it's mine for the night. Don't worry your pretty head too much about it, yeah?"

"Yours for the night? So like it isn't actually yours? What do you mean?" You ask stupidly. Like sure maybe interrogating such an angel like him who was essentially saving you from a life in prison wasn't a good move but you did not feel like yourself since the moment the can opener entered that man's throat.

"Jeez you ask a lot of questions don't you? It's a friend's." He sounded annoyed but still had a slight smile on his face. He opened the back seat door and you threw the man in there, quite literally at that. He then opened the door of the front seat and looked at you expectantly. "You coming or what?"

Well now it's not that you didn't learn about stranger danger in school like the rest of the human population. Problem is you had just killed someone, something not a lot of human population does. So it's not like you had a choice either. Because telling this fine gentleman to get rid of the body you murdered by himself wouldn't be very nice now would it? So you decided to go, also he had already said he would've murdered you by now if he wanted to. You also thought that he would've done the thing that the man tried to do with you by now if he wanted to and wouldn't be helping you. Although you still didn't understand why he was even helping you in the first place.

"Wait let me just lock the store." You ran to the store to get the keys not noticing him following you. Just as you took the keys from the cashier's desk and turned you saw him taking a bunch of snacks and food items from the shelves. He looked at you with both arms full and raised an eyebrow as to ask 'what'? "So, um are you gonna pay for this?" You ask. As much as you were in debt of this man, you couldn't afford to add two crimes in a night to your record. A murder charge was enough you didn't need an extra accomplice in robbery charge too.

"Seriously?" He rolled his eyes.

"I mean, you do know this a crime right?" Okay so maybe you were being stupid at the moment but can someone blame you? They try murdering a creepy man and see what happens to their critical thinking skills.

"Woah really? I never would've guessed!" He gasped dramatically. "Thank you so much for telling me, kind lady. How may I repay you?" He marveled with wide eyes while doing a dramatic bow making all the snacks he was carrying scrunch as they came in contact with his chest. His dark, slightly long hair fell into his eyes while he got back up and grinned at his own joke.

"Ok. That's enough. I'll just pay for you. I don't wanna account to Mr Choi for the missing snacks. Just let me get the total." You asked him while fishing for your purse in your pockets.

"You're a real funny one, you know that?" He laughed as though you had made a joke that you yourself were unaware about. "C'mon you don't need to pay. I'll explain in the car. It's going to be a long journey." He stated drawing out the o of long an obnoxious amount.

Thinking that you couldn't argue with this odd man you followed him out and locked the store.

"Open this up for me, will you?" He gestured towards the trunk which was strangely in the front of the car. You opened it up and he emptied his hands. "You know, this is called a frunk. Front and trunk get it? Isn't that neat?" He mentioned.

"Uh, yeah, Sure is." You awkwardly agreed and went to the front seat.

"Uh-uh sweetheart, stop right there" he exhorted. "Now what kind of gentleman would I be if I don't even open the door for you?" He walked towards you and opened the door.

"Uh thanks I guess?" You sat down almost hitting your head against the roof.

"You're welcome sweetheart." He winked and got in the driver's seat all the while whistling to himself. Was all this not even a bit weird to him? How did he even know what to do with a dead body of all things? All kinds of different questions were swarming in your head when he finally spoke after half an hour of driving or so. "Stop overthinking that much. You're gonna give yourself a headache." He said while chuckling.

"Are you speaking from experience?" You asked quietly still looking out of the window at the tall buildings which were now looking like little amber fireflies from this high up. You guessed you were near a mountain or something. You weren't sure though, neither did you care at this point.

"Maybe." He answered swerving the car effortlessly at the narrow route.

"So uh care to explain why you are trying to get me fired?" You finally questioned.

"I am trying to get you fired? Excuse me?" He said as if he was seriously offended.

"I mean you did steal a bunch of things and didn't even let me pay didn't you?"

"Oh honey, let me tell you something. You were fired the moment you killed that man." He whispered as if he was telling you a secret.

"Wha- what do you mean? You destroyed the camera right? I can just make up something about thieves breaking in and doing all that. There's no evidence so why would I get fired?" You questioned while panicking a bit. This job was one of the limited jobs that aligned with your uni schedule and you didn't had to work super hard for. All the other jobs in late night cafes and other stores were already taken up by other students. You don't think you'll be able to get another job as convenient after this one.

"You're so naive you know that? Your little owner has live footage of every single place he owns. I just destroyed the recorded one. Chances are he already knows about what you've done by now and is probably sending his men over. Especially after seeing me there. He must be losing his marbles after that." He snickered as if he made the funniest joke a homosapien could think of.

"I don't understand you for the most part but mainly you're saying the I'm fired right? And Mr Choi knows I'm a fucking murderer?"

"Essentially yeah." He agreed before continuing "But you're not really a murderer, right?"

"Um not right. I quite literally killed someone." You sniffled. Still determined to not cry until that body is no more. Even though you didn't think you even deserved to cry.

"So what? You just killed someone. That doesn't make you a murderer. A killer is someone who kills, whether by intent or not. A murderer is someone who kills with a motive in mind. You didn't mean to kill that guy, it just happened. Even though he definitely deserved it. If you knew even half the things that asshole has done, you wouldn't even care that you killed him."

"I doubt that." You rolled your eyes at him. How could he even think you wouldn't care after taking the life of someone? Sure he wasn't a good person. But now what about his daughter? What if she was still waiting for the jelly beans he was meant to get her? "I'm sure his daughter would care that I killed him." You whispered in a small voice, not trusting your voice right now.

"What daughter?" He asked as if he was genuinely confused. "He doesn't have a daughter. If he said that to you, he was lying."

Well now that was shocking. "Are- are you sure?"

"Do you seriously still doubt me?" He rolled his eyes with more force than necessary.

"Well then what about a wife? Or a significant other or something you know?" You just wanted to know that no one would be affected as much by his death. Maybe it was selfish for you to do so.

"I mean he does have a wife. But she runs an illegal organ trafficking business. So I wouldn't feel too bad for her if I were you."

Alright so this was more shocking. You were too stunned to speak. Who even were these people? And wait how did he know about all these? He wasn't involved in any organ trafficking businesses right? There was only one way to find out. "So not to offend you or anything but are you too, perhaps, I don't know... involved in such things?" Your question was full of hesitation and he probably knew that too from your tone.

"Yes. And I'm looking for the perfect moment to strike and take your eyes out with a can opener." He didn't crack a smile at that and looked dead serious, not even blinking and just looking straight at the dark road ahead. He looked so scary, for the first time that night.

"You should've just done that before I cleaned all that blood then." You said solemnly. Was this going to be the way you die? With your eyes scooped out with a can opener? On a pitch black, uninhabited mountain? You were on the verge of crying when he laughed again.

"You didn't think that I was actually being serious right?" His eyes crinkled into twin crescent moons, the same as the one you could see up in the inky sky from the side mirror of his car.

"Yeah I did actually." You whispered to yourself as he continued to laugh. "So you don't do that organ stuff right?" You asked again, just to be sure.

"God no! That's too grotesque even for us. We're more into strategic businesses if you know what I mean."

"I don't know what you mean." You replied. Who were 'us'? What even was a 'strategic business'? Did he work in finance or something? Probably not.

"It's okay. I'd rather not tell you."

"Why?" The question slipped your mouth before you had the chance to stop it.

"Because then I'll have to kill you." He whispered in that scary, serious voice of his. You knew by now that he was probably just joking again.

"Can you not joke about killing me all the time?" You rolled your eyes.

"Who said I was joking?" He looked at you instead of the road just as you felt the whole car vibrate staggeringly.

"What the fuck was that!?" You panicked.

"Uh just a big rock or something." He shrugged.

"Well then maybe can you pay attention to the road instead of staring at me creepily at random times!?" You shouted.

"Jeez calm down. I already knew we couldn't avoid the rock. It was too huge. So I just let it be. And it's called gazing alright, not 'creepily staring'."

He explained calmly while wrapping the hand at the back of your seat and driving with only one freaking hand. And he looked so relaxed too for some reason.

Oh okay so he was parking the car in between two huge trees. "We're here. Come on." You followed him out of the car and you could see a bright place up ahead. You could also hear the sound of fire crackling.

"Gosh I really don't wanna go near that asshole's feet again. They stink so bad." He gagged dramatically. His personality honestly gave you whiplash. You both reluctantly carried the man into the warehouse-like building which burned brighter than your future.

"Come on just leave him here." He threw the man on the cobblestone ground and started walking back to the car leaving you utterly confused. "You coming or what?" He looked back at you as he noticed you not following him.

"A- aren't we supposed to do anything?" You questioned while glancing between the body and him.

He sighed deeply and walked back to you. "Do you want to see that man's body burn in above a 1000 degree celsius?" He questioned you while grabbing both of your shoulders. You shook your head in a silent 'no'. "That's what I thought." He smiled at you again and walked you back towards the car with a hand wrapped around your shoulders.

"Won't the police know anything?" You questioned ten minutes into the drive.

"Not a chance sweetheart." He winked at you shifting his gaze from the road towards you for the umpteenth time that night while you looked out of the window at the dark trees with a blank stare.

"Won't Mr Choi report me to the police if he knows I killed someone?"

"Unless he's an absolute idiot, no he won't. Besides he doesn't even have any evidence against you. But trust me, he won't even go to the police in the first place. Just don't go around that store now for a few days, alright?"

"Are you sure his body will be gone?"

"Absolutely. Now that we're down the mountain, there are absolutely no traces of the crime you accidentally committed tonight." So that man really was gone huh? Because of you?

"Thank you." Your voice barely coming out.

"Why are you thanking me? I should be thanking you." He chuckled. What?

"Uh what?" Your throat hurt from how hoarse your voice was.

"I mean, you did kill my target for me so thanks I guess. Although I would've gotten the job done far more cleanly. Obviously. We wouldn't even need to go all the way up there. Just one touch and he would've gotten a heart attack then and there. But it's fine I don't blame you, it was your first kill after all!" He exclaimed as if that was a good news. "So now... my place or yours?"

The news didn't even phase you anymore. You looked at the neon digital clock in the car as it showed 4:27 a.m. in block letters. You definitely wouldn't be able to make it to uni today. You hadn't even completed your essay on playwriting and dramaturgy that was due today. And finally you burst into tears for the second time that night.

"My place it is then." 

A/N: If you've made it this far, thanks a lot for reading. Any kind of feedback and comments are much much appreciated!

[miss-anachronism]

It’s exam season, and you know what that means! I’m procrastinating by writing fic!

I dont think this one will go on ao3 (maybe it will idk). It’s also not beta read so if theres any horrid mistakes uhhh. Ignore

Tags: fem!Merlin/Sonja, character study, Sonja & Nara

Content warnings: corpses. Lots of corpses. Shipwrecks. Dismembered body parts. Etc, etc.

Fic under the cut!

Sonja usually finds these calm mornings peaceful. After the rattling of last night’s storm, the horrible whistling of the winds and the rumbling thunder that wouldn’t let her sleep, the respite seems like a reset, or sorts. The smell of the rain, the chill in the air; it does much to soothe her racing nerves. Today, she is glad for that comfort; she breathes in those salty winds, seeking for absolution.

The beach is littered in corpses.

It’s not uncommon. After a storm of that magnitude, and so soon following a shipwreck, it's completely normal for the sea to dredge up debris and bodies alike, washing them up on Rustport’s shore like a cat dragging a dead rat back to its owner.

A few Whispers have gathered on the beach as per usual, shooing away any scavengers searching for treasure, covering each body for later identification. Sonja watches a pair of them pull a bloated corpse up on shore, its ghastly face and mismatched body marking it as a Graveborn. For them, identification is near hopeless. They are bundled up and buried without a name.

Raking the beach for bodies is well above Sonja’s pay grade. It’s probably one of the least glamorous jobs that the Carmine Whispers handle, trying to match body parts together, pulling bloated, waterlogged corpses onto the shore. She knows that Tesio never bothered himself with this. And yet, every time there’s a storm, she finds herself drawn here. Drawn to the stench of rotting flesh mixed with salt, drawn to the pale, bloated bodies hidden among the beached wreckage.

A severed arm sits in front of Sonja, the stiff fingers gently swaying in the soft push and pull of the ocean. Small, surgical threads still cling to the severed stub, though they no longer hold the broken flesh together. A Graveborn’s remains.

Sonja takes a step forward, and gently prods at the hand with the tip of her cane. The sharp point forces the fingers to unfurl, revealing the pale, purplish palm.

Nara had a small scar near her thumb on her right hand. This hand is unblemished.

Sonja sighs.

The hairs on the back of her neck stand a split second before she hears the slight shuffling of sand behind her, followed by a quiet cough. Sonja furrows her brow. There's only one person who can sneak up on her so effectively- and only one person brave enough to try. She looks over her shoulder.

All of the Hypogeans and monsters she’s fought, all the enemies that have fallen at her feet, all of the trials she's withstood and mastered… and yet, Magister Merlin’s greatest rival is still early mornings.

Anne blinks blearily at Sonja, seeming as if she’s struggling to keep her eyes open. She shudders in the sharp sea breeze, hugging the wool cardigan she’s hastily thrown on tighter around her body. Her white dress flutters in the wind, revealing leather boots that haven’t even been properly tied. Her brow furrows as the wind aggressively snatches at the few stray hairs that havent been caught into a tangled updo.

“You look horrible,” Sonja mutters dryly. It’s not even true. Anne rolls her eyes.

“Good morning to you too.”

“What are you doing up?”

Anne’s gaze falls to her feet. She digs the toe of her boot into the sand, watching as it dips with the pressure.

“Lucca told me you were dredging up bodies. I thought you might like… an expert opinion, of sorts.” She glances back up to Sonja with a tight, strained smile.

Sonja can’t find the energy to find the humour in her little joke. She sighs, and turns back to the water. She hears the sand shuffle as Anne moves to stand next to her, joining her in quiet contemplation.

The waves gently lap up against the beach, softly kissing the sand before they retreat, shy once more. The hand gets pulled with them, beginning to drift out into the open seas once more.

Sonja skewers the palm with the tip of her cane, and drags it back onto shore.

“Well, doc,” she sighs, gently nudging the limb off the sharp point with the toe of her boot, “what do you suggest we do with all of… these? Is there a protocol for burying unknown Graveborn?”

Anne purses her lips. “I don’t think so. Really, the same you’d do with all your other unidentified dead. Though some places take… precautions. Manacle the hands, put heavy rocks on top of the coffins… just in case. You know, they come back.”

“Seems cruel,” Sonja mutters. To come alive in one of those coffins, to push against not only layers of dirt, but rocks, pressing the lid in, splintering the wood, splinters digging into your fingers as you try to claw your way out- Nara always hated splinters, she’d try to hide them from Sonja because she hated getting them pulled out so much-

…

Sonja tilts her head towards the Whispers raking the beach. They’re still a ways away, preoccupied trying to sort through a large pile of wreckage, what looks like the remains of a mast.

Slowly, she inches her hand towards Anne’s. Their fingers brush. Anne isn't wearing her gloves today, her skin is cold in the chilly morning air. Her fingers unfurl, slowly intertwining with Sonja’s.

“We’ll give them a sea burial. Somewhere a little further from the coast, and in proper coffins. The… estranged limbs can be cremated, and the ashes spread, or sunk, in the same place.”

Anne hums, eyes glued to the horizon. “I like that. If there’s one thing I’ve come to learn about sailors, it's that they prefer to embrace in death the waters they struggled against in life.”

Out of everything, it’s that that draws a soft chuckle out of Sonja. She catches herself quickly, shooting another rapid glance to the Whispers to ensure they aren’t paying apt attention. They aren’t- though with Anne, she isn’t so lucky.

”What?” The great Merlin asks, a small smile tugging at her lips.

“Nothing,” Sonja mutters, willing her face to lie flat again, “you just have… a very poetic way of seeing the world.”

Anne huffs and glances away, suddenly bashful. “In a good way, I hope,” she mutters, failing to hide her grin.

”Of course,” Sonja mutters, rubbing her thumb across the grooves of the rose on her cane. “Dura knows we could use some poetry around here.”

“Oh, there’s poetry everywhere, if you look for it,” Anne sighs, resting her head on the soft fur that covers Sonja’s cloak.

“Is that so?” Sonja mutters, allowing herself to enjoy the soft weight on her shoulder.

Anne hums in agreement, but she doesn’t offer up any more explanation. Maybe she doesn't need one. Sonja doesn’t read much poetry, but she has to admit there is something rhythmic in how the waves lick at the corpses on the beach, how Anne’s thumb gently rubs across her knuckles, how the muddled voices of the Whispers seem to merge and mingle with the harsh caws of the seagulls.

“She’d have loved you.”

Sonja isn’t sure what happened between the thought forming and the words leaving her lips.

”Nara would have?” Anne asks. The words float in the air as if the wind is trying to convince them to stay.

“Yes. She was always asking me to tell her stories. You have so many… and such a way of telling them. She’d listen to you for hours, I… I know it.”

She can picture it so clearly. Nara, curled up in a blanket on the floor of Anne’s library, a mug of cocoa in her hands. Anne in her chair, a pile of storybooks beside her, parsing through them to find just the right one, something with a brave princess who befriends the dragon instead of killing it. Nara would listen to half of it, and then take off part way through, narrating her own ending, describing in detail how each character would get their happy endings, or comeuppance, if they deserved it. Anne’s eyes would crinkle at the sides as she grinned, nodding along, agreeing in the end that yes, Nara’s version was much better, and they should just go with that. They’d never get through a single book. Anne would help Nara write her own.

“You’re looking for her, aren’t you?”

Sonja presses her eyes closed, tight as they can go, until little lights begin to dance behind her eyelids. “Yes,” she whispers, “of course I am.”

The waves lap against the shore. Once, twice. A bell rings somewhere deep in Rustport. The wind picks up, carrying the voices of her subordinates with it.

“Well,” Anne mutters, gently giving Sonja’s hand a squeeze before slowly loosening her grip, “she’s not here, so we’re sitting ducks. I suppose you’ve combed everything West of here?”

“I… yes,” Sonja confirms. Anne’s hand slips out of hers, leaving her palm sharply cold in her absence.

“So we go East,” Anne concludes. “The two of us can move faster than the poor souls who have to collect the bodies.”

“… you don’t have to help.”

“I guess not. Parsing through corpses is a bit of a poor date idea.” She presses a finger to the corner of her mouth, as if in deep thought. “Treat me to damedangler tonight, and we’ll call it even.”

There’s something serene about how Anne’s hair flows in the wind, how her voice seems to chime in time with the breeze, how the bags under her eyes seem lighter in the morning sun.

“Deal,” she says, the word leaving her before she can think about it. Anne smiles at her, sad but true, and offers her hand. “Okay,” she whispers. “Let’s go find her.”

And what can Sonja do but let herself be pulled along?

[genshingorlsrevengeance]

Hello hello helloooo, good writer!

I was pondering if I could perhaps make a request for Beidou with an S/O who's scared of the ocean, from a traumatic experience during their childhood. As well as maybe Beidou helping her S/O overcome their fear?

Also, just wanted to say that I see you're a man of culture as well, a fellow Vtuber enjoyer 😉

(Genshin Impact) Beidou with an S/O who has a fear of the ocean

Y'know, I've always wanted to become a Marine Biologist, but I have a fear of the open ocean. Besides, after playing Subnautica and seeing what's in our actual ocean, whatever the hell's down there can STAY DOWN THERE And the only VTubers I watch are Hololive. Holotempus is like an anime version of the old youtube gaming groups from the early 2010s, and I love them.

Beidou loves the ocean, far more than she will ever love the land.

However, she understands why S/O is afraid of it.

The waters are just as dangerous as it is beautiful. And that's not even saying what lies underneath it.

Tactfully not mentioning that part, she holds S/O's hand as she brings them to the Crux, making sure the deck is clear so it's just them.

(Beidou) "If you need me to get you off, say the word."

She is extremely understanding and patient whenever they have the time to have S/O get used to the feeling of being on a boat.

Most shockingly of all, she does not even think of touching the alcohol on board until she's 100% certain S/O is okay without her on the Crux.

Beidou wants to invite them to be on board whenever they set sail, but she'll wait as long as she needs to.

The moment they ask her to sail with the crew, the biggest smile in the world forms on her lips as she gives them a near bone-crushing hug.

If things get too dicey, she usually has them stay inside her cabin, especially if there was a storm brewing.

But when things are just right, she'll bring them to watch the sun shining on the waters, smelling the salty air and feeling the wind.

(Beidou) "This is what the ocean has in store for you, besides all the rocking and shaking. It's why I love it as much as I love you."

(S/O) "It's...really pretty."

(Beidou) "As much as yours truly?"

(S/O) "Hm...Maybe a bit more."

Beidou gives them a light jab on the shoulder, chuckling.

(Beidou) "Well you ass, guess you don't need me to help you out here anymore then!"

(S/O) "W-WAIT! I WAS JOKING!"

She couldn't help but laugh at their reaction, bringing them in close with one arm.

Beidou celebrates by having a toast with S/O on the deck as the waters gently rocked the boat, both watching the ocean and its splendor.

It would be a bit longer for S/O to get anywhere remotely comfortable to be on the ocean without her, but this was a start.

And the fact they wanted to try meant all the world to Beidou.

[friedeaglesandwich]

PERCY AND ANNABETH'S PROPOSAL

Percy stood on the Montauk beach front, his toes dug deep into the ocean wet sand. The feeling of flowing water beneath his feet helped with his nerves. Yet somehow, he still felt more nervous than he had ever been in his entire life. He watched as the sun dipped down the horizon, casting iridescent shades of gold throughout the atmosphere. He caught the salty, comforting smell of the sea as a gentle breeze grazed him from the horizon. He felt his father's encouragement and reassurance, which was something he desperately needed.

Annabeth and Percy had just come home from Leo and Calypso's wedding. His dark blue suit pants were rolled up to his knee and he had discarded of his blazer and tie leaving him in his baby blue shirt with his sleeves rolled up Percy had asked Annabeth to meet him on the beach in 10 minutes, he had something special he wanted to show her. Percy's muscles relaxed; he knew that Annabeth was approaching him. He always felt her presence when she was near. After all, it was Annabeth. He knew everything about her from the beat of her footsteps to the sound of her breath to her scent of fresh pines and honey. God's he loved her. He hadn't turned around yet. She was behind him now he sensed the beat of her heart the very pulsing beauty of her soul. She wrapped her arms around him and placed her head on his shoulders. Electricity sparked through his body, and for a second, he thought Zeus was about to fry him. She whispered into his ear, clearly tired,"What did you want to show me?" He sensed she smiled. "The sunset is beautiful this evening, wise girl, will you watch it with me?" It was such a simple request, yet he knew Annabeth would appreciate it after all the wars they fought in and the darkness of the pit. And so they silently basked in the last of the sunlight as the sky transformed from golden to pink to a gentle orange. Annabeth hadn't let him go for a second and eventually turned around in her arms and rested his forehead onto hers. His eyes were now closed. She was warm and comfortable and her breath wasn't perfect but he loved her anyway. Percy opened his eyes to find the most outstanding intelligent grey eyes watching him. "So I was thinking..." he stated. "That's terrifying Seaweed Brain," she responded playfully. "Calypso said something to me today before she walked down the aisle. After her 4000 years trapped on ogygia, she learned that she should not waste the time she does have with those whom she loved. And it got me thinking. These past years haven't been easy on us, but we always made it through together. You are the wise to my stupid, the hubris to my loyalty and the love to my love." Percy took a step back and went down on one knee. Annabeth eyes sparkled, full of tears she had her hands on her mouth in disbelief. "You are everything to me. You are my world. You are my rose. You are my whole entire universe. You are perfect for me in every aspect, and Annabeth, God's, I love you more than anything to ever touch this earth. You have been at my side from day one, so will you be the Wise Girl at my side for the rest of my life and for the rest of eternity?" Percy was now only aware that he was crying more than Annabeth. He was not nervous anymore, just satisfied. "YES!," Annabeth exclaimed so loudly. "YES PERCY JACKSON I WILL MARRY YOU!" She leaned in to kiss him. Their lips met with the most beautiful smile that Percy had ever seen on Annabeths face.

[ahli-stuff]

I ate some kbbq today and I swear the sandman brainrot is growing mold inside my brain because all I could think about was making a comic series which explores hob taking dream to all kinds of different restaurants from different cultures and having him try the food in the waking

In a kbbq, hob would show dream how to properly grill meat and to eat it and space it between the sour, salty, spicy refreshing banchan and show him how the sauces can completely transform the taste of the bolgogi based on the diff combos. Dream would be reserved, but still, with interest sparkling in his eyes because he’s right in front of this instead of experiencing it through a dreamer—and there are so many choices and ways to approach this meal. (Dream thinks hob doesn’t notice when he subtly leans in. Hob does. He’s very endeared by it!)

This thought was inspired by the fanfiction pie of birds and grief and ocean water by Chrome

Hob is the embodiment of the enjoyment of every kind of human pleasure from grand to simple—and of course of the most simplest yet grandest pleasures of being human is tasting the awesome foods that people have come up with over the years. As a medieval peasant constantly worrying about his next meal and being destitute during several periods of history, hob knows well how potent the simple joy of a full stomach can be. How can be compounded by being with a dear friend.

And dream, dream is millions of years old, of course he’s very familiar with food from all kinds of cultures and the idea of what it tastes smells and looks like and he’s starved before—for a hundred years—(even though it wasn’t shown in the show, he was really really hungry after he escaped his imprisonment) but food is more of a formality. Its to keep up appearances at family gatherings and to foster hospitality between important lords and ladies. Like occasionally eating, dream only does most of what he does because he has too.

And hob, eager to share with dream the joys of what he has experienced, sticks a spoonful of salted steamed egg into dreams mouth and dream—in the company his close friend, not starving or having to pretend out of politeness—feels the tension drain out of his shoulder when the taste spreads throughout his human tongue and warms his stomach with the smile of his oldest friend in front of him and he simply. enjoys.

(I didn’t get a pic of our steamed egg because we ate it so quickly but it was so good guys it was SO GOOD)

[flowerandthesongstress]

Alice/Noah anything!

🤖🌹beep instructions scarce and unclear beep defaulting to base parameters: lifelong friends. healthy relationship. instantly resolved miscommunication. emotionally mature. ¡qué viva colombia! pining. just a bit sad. life is shit but hugs aren’t shit. family issues. emotional support. ambiguous cryptid pc cameo. comfort comfort comfort comfort comforrrr *erupts in sparks* mmffffffrrrr *blasts some hardcore extreme bass-heavy sarah mclachlan*

An Ordinary Miracle

Alice (x) Noah | G; no tw. 

Here she is, fresh out of bed, still sleepy, barefoot, not even dressed — marveling in awe at what might have always been here; unsure of why today, of all days. 

read below or on the other hellsite.

The first thing that crosses her mind as she looks out the wide-open window of her room: has the sky always been this blue? 

The curtains fluttered, disturbed by a gust of breeze invading her room, just as the alarm shrieked. Punching the button, Alice groaned, turned away from it and towards the light, and grimaced, and opened her eyes, and saw. 

Has the sky always been this blue? 

Alice wasn’t sure, and this uncertainty puzzled her. Instead of shuffling to the kitchen or the bathroom, the way she always does, she approached the window and discovered that it wasn’t only the sky. All of these colors were mesmerizing; a strikingly vivid turquoise blue of the water lapping at the platinum shore, bathed in a quince-marmalade sunrise. 

So taken aback by the spectacular view, that for the last several minutes Alice has been stock-still, staring at it with her mouth agape.

Alice knows this island like the back of her hand; she was born and raised here, after all. Living right by the ocean for so long, she got used to seeing, hearing, and breathing it every single day. It became an insignificant background — noise, sight, smell, and the whole notion of its perpetual neighbourship. Tourists always gush about how extraordinarily beautiful the island is; usually, Alice gives a polite nod in response, offering words of agreement and one of those automated platitudes which lost their meaning long ago. In truth, she just couldn’t see it; she barely looked. 

Today, it’s different. All of it. The sound of the waves crashing on the shore, the tang of the salty breeze caressing her skin, the warmth of the sun’s rays on her face — each one of these sensations feels new and fascinating. As if she has never met the sea before; as if it was a stranger to her, or she was a stranger to the sea. Despite how they’ve known each other since her birth. 

Fresh out of bed, still sleepy, barefoot, not even dressed, she is marveling at what might have always been here; unsure of why today, of all days. 

Nothing’s changed, after all. Her life is just as drab, isn’t it? 

Alice checks herself and stops staring; there’s only so much spare time to spend on her morning routine, and she would do better not to waste any. Her sister Suki likes to say, ‘Hospitality is all about putting the guest first’ and ‘Laziness is reserved for tourists’ and ‘Chop-chop!’ 

She’d hate to give Suki a reason to say any of these things. Today or on any other day. But in the staff kitchen on the ground floor of Coral Inn, instead of doing anything useful, she idly stands, waiting for her coffee to brew, a thermal cup clutched in her hand, and stares out the window. At the hotel-adjacent beach — a long stretch of white sand— and at the pier jutting far into the water. 

It’s not the final beep that brings Alice out of her reverie; she flinches as the fabric of her cropped summer pants is yanked. Knowing what’s coming, she moves to the side and opens the fridge door like an automaton.  

“Juice!” her niece Valentina demands with a delay, raising her mug. A mug decorated with a ‘cartoony’ mermaid possessing exaggerated facial features and a couple of other exaggerated things; Suki bought it. Suki thinks that this insensitive and appropriating mug is funny. Suki bought a whole batch in bulk and now resells them to tourists as souvenirs. 

Pouring some juice into the mug, Alice once again — for the hundredth time, perhaps — wishes she could choose a new one for her niece, although she’d never admit this wish to Suki, and it’s a fleeting, routine thought. But today, all of a sudden, Alice muses on whether she’d actually be able to pull it off. What if she just buys a really pretty mug for Val’s birthday? It’s in a week. If Val likes the gift and chooses to keep it for her own daily use, there’d be no reason for Suki to object, or discuss, or split hairs, or to say anything at all. Val is headstrong, and, despite what Suki loves to repeat on the regular, it’s her daughter who is the top priority, and not the tourists. 

Tourists are the close second.

Val gulps down her juice in one go and raises the mug again, this time with both hands. “More!”

It’s odd how early she is today — and already dressed. Val loves to surf, but the weather is too calm for a surfing lesson. Not to mention, this frilly and cute sundress could hardly serve as surfing gear. 

“Why are you up so early?” Alice asks, pouring her more with no objections. “Is everything okay?”

“Yes! Ollie invited me to go flower-spotting. Have you ever gone flower-spotting?”

When she and Noah were little, they used to go looking for all kinds of stuff, just the two of them. Bugs, critters, flowers, ghosts, gods, and stories. When they were kids, every day spent with Noah was about something brand new and exciting. 

“Of course. It’s a lot of fun. Just watch out for fairies, they can be vicious this time of year.”

Alice doesn’t remember how and why precisely they stopped going. Was it because a flower fairy bit him on the nose? Or did they stop after Noah kissed her? As she was braiding three grass stalks together to make into a bracelet for him, he pressed his cushiony lips to hers in a quick and loud smooch, and ran off. It was the first kiss for both of them. She remembers it better than a lot of things from her childhood. She remembers the kiss tasting of bubble gum. She remembers the ‘bracelet’ slipping out of her petrified fingers. These memories and feelings are anything but bitter ... yet they are so distant and faded that she can’t help but wonder whether they’re even real, whether she imagined them, dreamt them. She and Noah remained friends, after all, up until he left for school. She thought he would never return, but he did...

“Hair!” Val’s already deposited the mug into the dishwasher and procured the hairbrush, out of one of the kitchen drawers. Suki keeps on putting the brush away, but it always ends up back here. 

It’s a tradition: for Val to sit on the same chair in the staff kitchen and for Alice to style her long tawny hair into a half-up crown braid. It’s been a tradition since Val still had to climb the chair instead of simply sitting down on it. 

“Would you like something different today?” Alice always asks her, and the answer is always no. 

“Yes!” says Val. Today, she wants her hair ‘all down and pretty’. 

Coffee is done. Most mornings, when she needs to unwind, Alice pours herself a full cup and goes to the square. With a book or with her thoughts; doesn’t matter. This ritual allows her to level her mind, calm down, and cope with the upcoming day. Always to the square. But today she can’t help but feel that this morning routine could use some variation.

The pier looks so inviting, bathed in the summer sun, framed by a glittering expanse of turquoise blue. Alice decides to take her coffee to the pier today. 

Outside, the soothing, persistent sound of the ocean waves rolls into her ears. It’s been a while since she last noticed, really noticed it. How long has it been since she’s last gone for a swim?

Walking the length of the pier, she sits at its furthest edge, her bare legs dangling above the water.

The pier is old, and it might remember things which Alice forgot. Old, but not neglected; Valentina’s favorite uncle Rafi is making sure to maintain it in neat condition. The wooden planks might be worn from decades of use, but they’re still safe and sound, and they will last. 

The breeze tugs at Alice’s hair and makes it sway about her face, tickling. Taking care to not let any of her coffee spill, she brushes the strands off to the side with her free hand. Perhaps today she should have done something different to her hair, too, instead of leaving it down as usual. 

Inhaling the tang of the salty brine, she watches the gently swaying water. The sea is as endless as the sky, but more alive. It seems like a gentle, almost imperceptible pulsation is going through it. The waves are shifting in sync, as if the sea itself is breathing ... Breaking its surface, a couple of merfolk emerge in the distance. Alice tenses, praying that she will neither be waved at nor, as that would be much worse, approached and forced to partake in meaningless small talk; praying that she’d be left alone. Luckily, the merfolk dive back into the depths in seconds, having not noticed her. Alice exhales in relief.  

A strange sensation is stirring in her chest, and Alice isn’t sure what to call it. 

It reminds her of anxiety, of nervousness, but lacks the distinct prickly edge of either. An overwhelming, breath-stalling kind of anticipation that borders jubilance; she might have experienced this feeling as a child ... If she absolutely had to, she’d have called it ‘waiting for a miracle’.  

Although she tried, Alice can’t shake this unexplainable premonition: today will be a day unlike any other. 

Unlikely.

Sure, there are some days which stand out from the rest and are especially vivid in her memory. Days when everything that could possibly go wrong — does go wrong. The toaster in the breakfast hall breaking down along with the coffee machine, a guest bringing in an infectious disease, a guest getting drunk and rowdy, a guest starting a fight, a guest trying to take a picture of a stone statue and getting a stone punch in the groin because the ‘statue’ was a stone giant who didn’t appreciate being gawked at when they’re meditating; Alice being the one who has to remind the guest to read the Terms of stay when he yells to be given monetary compensation, Alice being the one who has to endure verbal abuse from him, Alice trying not to cry, Alice failing; Suki requesting this, Suki demanding that, Suki making decisions for both of them, Suki shaming her, Suki pushing her into doing things that make Alice want to ball up and bawl, things like making calls and yelling at suppliers and demanding things from them and shaming them. 

Alice gets such days quite often. 

Best she can hope for is a quiet day without too much stress. There is no tangible reason to expect any miracles. 

No reason to expect anything out of the ordinary, even. 

But Alice is convinced. Something is going to happen. Something big and profound. Something— She sighs; although the waves are masking the sound, although there is no noticeable shaking, she can still feel the weight of the footsteps through the interconnected wooden planks, and knows that someone stepped onto the jetty and is about to approach her. 

Alice doesn’t want to turn or look over her shoulder in order to see who that is. It could hardly be Suki. Suki would have shouted from the boardwalk. Taco, a mountain spirit inhabiting the body of a dog, does come over sometimes, but he always politely inquires whether he’s allowed to enter private property, or if his presence would be disruptive today — before stepping on the hotel’s jetty. So it’s likely a guest who’s either feeling flirty or wants to complain or demand, or Suki’s ex-husband Antonio, who, despite them being divorced, still lives at the Inn and likes to grumble or cry into Alice’s shoulder, although Alice’s shoulder never gave Antonio consent to do that. Whoever that is, the magic will be disrupted. She is clinging to the last threads of the pleasant and mysterious feeling, while strongly suspecting that it’s about to be washed off and disappear forever. 

She can feel the threatening presence behind her back, the footsteps light, quiet, and confident. When a shadow falls over her, Alice shrinks into herself, as if she could turn invisible this way, and inadvertently looks up.

“Hey, Allie.”

Her rigid shoulders sag and the tightness within her uncoils. Right before her body tenses in an entirely different way. 

As a child, Noah would have grinned ear to ear at her, or roughhoused her, or grabbed her wrist and pulled her away to the beach or to look at something fun, or to nick sweets off the tavern’s kitchen, or play a new game he’d invented. He would have done many things, and would have had no reservations and no second thoughts.

As a child, she would have thrown herself at him and hugged him, or asked if he’d like to go snorkeling, or insisted that he read a book to her today, or made him listen to a song that she liked. She would have done many things, and would have had no reservations and no second thoughts.

But now she just stares, with no clue as to what to do or what else to say except for ‘hi’.

Now he just smiles softly and asks if he’s allowed to stay a while and keep her company.  

Now Alice finds herself nodding and then nodding some more. Now, raising her unsealed thermal cup as Noah lowers himself to sit next to her, she asks, “Coffee?” 

Now Noah shows her the sealed thermal cup he’s brought with him.  

He’s been back for a while, but it’s the first time they’re one-on-one since his return from uni. 

The first time she’s seeing him from so up close. 

As teenagers, they were awkward, neglected and miserable, and believing that the entire world was against them, and always pretending to be mad at everything but each other, and always lying to their parents and siblings, and sneaking out, and drinking beer and smoking cigarettes, and listening to shitty music way too loud, and trying to act grown-up and tough, and failing at it together, and always saying ‘I hate this island, I hate this world, but I don’t hate you’, and they were allies and accomplices. 

As a child, she was pudgy and plump, and always dirty from head to toe, and her hair was always tangled, and she had chubby cheeks and a huge gap between her front teeth, and was always sporting bruises and scratches, and always getting new ones as soon as the old ones would start to fade, and always wearing mismatched hand-me-downs, and always telling Noah that he was the coolest and that they would be best friends forever. 

As a child, he was gawky and clumsy, and his feet were too big, and his arms were too long, and his hair was a mess, and he had pockmarks from varicella, and he was always chewing on a piece of gum and scowling a huge white-tombstone grin, and always blowing pink bubbles in her face, and always threatening to stick the gum in her hair, and never doing that, and always wearing mismatched hand-me-downs, and always teasing her by calling her his future wife and saying that one day they would marry, and always being gawky and clumsy and not caring about it, and her hand never strayed from his, and she always felt so brave when by his side, and they were equals. 

And now ... now he’s one of the most handsome men Alice has ever seen. Now, Noah is tall, lean, and graceful. His face is all but perfect. His arms are strong and toned. His skin is smooth and clear. His black hair is a row of neat lopsided spikes on top of an even neater undercut, and the golden glow of the sun is giving it a mirror sheen. His clothes — the snow-white trainers, the expertly fitted black jeans, the ironed polo shirt — are immaculate. His voice is warm and mellow. He looks and sounds so confident, so composed. And his smile is dimpled and easy, and he is not her best friend anymore, and Noah is his own man. 

Now Alice is all too aware how his thigh brushes against hers, and she can barely breathe, and she can barely focus, and she can barely manage not to let her coffee spill or to choke on her words, and she can barely notice anything at all except for how beautiful he looks, although she’s known him all her life and never ever noticed. 

“How’s it going?” he asks.

Alice’s reply is an eloquent, “Huh?”

“How are you holding up?”

Alice thought that he would never come back; his eldest brother, Eddy, left the island, his older sister Aaliyah, having spent a few years away and tasted of the outside world, has been thinking of leaving for good, too, and likely would do so soon. Alice thought that he would never come back, so she let him go. Or so she thought. She did her best to feel happy for him; a new and exciting life awaited him out there. Or so she told herself.  

Then he came back, changed.

Instead of ‘good’ or ‘same old’ she blurts out a “Why?”

Terrified of conflicts, she avoids them at all costs. Habitually bracing for impact, Alice winces; the word came out sounding harsher than she intended. She’s about to follow it up with a desperate ‘Nevermind, I mean, it’s fine, everything is great, just livin’ life, you know, uh, thanks for asking, how are you?’ making use of the fact that he’s taking a sip — when Noah briskly lowers the cup, turns his head, and the phrase gets stuck in her throat. 

She’s staring at his stylish, minimalist, browline-rimmed glasses, this tiny chin cup beard, and the thin and tidy patch under his plump lower lip. Since when— 

He takes a deep breath, as if he’s about to dive. “I’m sorry, Allie. ‘Tis the season, so I know that you’re busy, and I know that this is why we haven’t gotten a chance to properly talk and hang out and all.” Noah’s voice is low, and soft as velvet, and Alice finds herself wishing she could listen to it for hours. Isn’t it the same voice he’s had since his teenage years? He couldn’t have changed his voice, as well, could he? “I know, I get it, and I hope it’s okay that I dropped by. But I just— I’ve recently gotten this feeling that you’re avoiding me. Tell me I’m paranoid?” His forehead creases; Noah tilts his head to the side, with a small, sheepish smile. 

Her lips unpin. “You’re—”

It was Noah who seemed like the busy one. After his return, Alice has been watching from the sidelines — or shadows — of the tavern’s hall, not approaching. Only a couple of times, though. Mostly, she’s been hearing things about him, and, judging by these things, he was indeed a new man. The way others described him, calling him suave, witty, charming, full of energy, but also responsible, level-headed, thorough, slow, mature ... felt alienating. 

Noah inherited a family business alongside his brother, and, by all indications, took to it as a duck to water. He keeps it running smoothly, is doing books and handling suppliers now, and gets along well with Frank. 

Alice inherited a family business alongside her sister, and it’s a never-ending, slow-motion nightmare. Always stressed and strained, Alice can hardly deal with the simplest, most mundane tasks, and Suki gets mad at her every single day. 

She and Noah used to be equals, allies, and accomplices. After his return, she couldn’t help but feel inferior to him, couldn’t help but wonder if maybe she was only slowing him down. 

She’s supposed to act polite and to say to this confident, strange, handsome man, ‘Of course you’re being paranoid. Please don’t worry. How’s work? How’s your mom doing?’ And she’s about to spell out this white lie, but—

“I just miss you a lot, Allie,” he adds so quickly and quietly that she needs to strain in order to hear him. 

Noah was never a skilled liar, but what if he’s grown out of this, too? 

“You ... miss me?”

Her body feels like a shell of lead, and the sound of the ocean and the beating of her heart suddenly become deafening as she meets his gaze. 

Everything else about him seems so different. Noah looks like a carefree supermodel now, but his eyes are as earnest as they have always been. Deep and kind and soulful, and just a little mischievous as he quirks an eyebrow; it’s the same eyes she remembers. Is this an illusion?

Or is it truly the same boy who taught her to swim? 

“Like crazy.”

She and Noah started growing apart long before his departure. His dad passed away, then Eddy left, then Frank got married and moved out, then Aaliyah’s conflicts with Betty started. Noah was trying as hard as he could to be there for what remained of his family. And Alice barely had a spare minute, what with all of that inheriting-the-hotel business and taking classes online ... Whenever she and Noah had time to meet and talk at all, they only talked of how stressed and wrung out they both were, and half-assedly joked about how much they both wanted to be abducted by aliens so that there’d be no need to deal with any of this, but aliens favored big cities and continuously ignored their corner of the world, and those meetings were growing more and more scarce. Then he left... She could not blame him. She did not blame him, not for a single second. 

Lately, there have been days which Alice spent in complete silence, having said zero words to zero people. She’s come to consider days like that positive. They’re less tiring. No words means no conflict, or at least it means a one-sided conflict which is destined to fizzle out soon. No words means no shallow small talk, no empty questions about how she’s doing, coming from people who don’t actually care how she’s doing. 

Alice hasn’t felt relaxed in ages. She’s so tired. She is tired of feeling like a failure. Tired of feeling out of place, like an outsider in her own home, tired of feeling that nothing she does is good enough, tired of being told off for every single transgression, tired of living in her sister’s shadow. She is so tired of—

“Allie?”

—of having no one to talk to about how tired she is. 

“I was, Noah. I was avoiding you. I’m ... so sorry. But I—” Words rise to her throat, words spill and spill and spill out of her in batches. Much like pearls and spherical rubies out of the mouths of half the townsfolk did, during that nasty epidemic last year, one which gave Yuri and Charles so much trouble and a lasting addiction to coffee. 

The stream seems never-ending, but it doesn’t feel like an ailment. It feels like it used to, long ago, when his presence was making her brave. Alice tells him what she’s heard about him, she speaks of all the praise and compliments the townspeople have been directing at him, and how she got an impression that the things which she never had the strength or confidence to do, he now does effortlessly.

“I just felt like I had nothing to offer anymore, like maybe you were avoiding me, because you’re so brilliant, and all I can do is—”

Noah laughs. He laughs, and his deep, braying laughter, so familiar, so forgotten, resonates inside her with a nameless ache. She missed this sound so much. She missed his unabashed, white-tombstone smile, his dimples, and the way the skin around his eyes crinkles. He laughs, and it’s a dam to the stream. 

Silent, mesmerized, she watches him. Alice is terrified of conflicts; Noah used to de-escalate conflicts and any tense situations in seconds, with a smile on his face. No, not ‘used to’—

“Oh Gh-awd, Allieeeee.” Pinching them by a corner, Noah raises his glasses and wipes a tear of mirth off his left eyelid. “And here I thought— First of all, you know they’re praising you just as much, right? Ohhh dearest Alice, always so polite, so composed and patient, so dutiful and respectful! Just the other day I overheard Wataru using you as an example to shame his son. His son is a goddamn STEM academic! Who, by the way, says he doesn’t ‘believe’ in aliens, as if that’s a question of belief, but that’s beside the point... Secondly, we both got stuck in the hospitality business, come on, you must be aware by now that it’s a crapshoot that’s all about window dressing! Horeca is hell. But you gotta fake it till you make it, and, you know, we gotta show visitors a good time and be there for them, there’s no choice, because our families depend on this, on us. But did you really think— I’m sorry. Allie, I’m so sorry. But come on. Come o-on! Even if I was this brilliant and suave hero, which I’m so not, I assure you, you know it wouldn’t have changed a thing, right? Like I would leave you in the dust to be all high and mighty?! We were buddies, you and I, we were— We are. I would never, not in a million years, think less of you, for whatever reason, I would never want us to stop being buddies. You’re amazing, you’re legit the best person in the world, precisely ‘cause you hate window-dressing, you’re so real, no one gets me like you do. Come on, I know you, don’t you know me? I’m still me, and you’re still you, and no matter what, it’s gonna be you and me, because that’s just the way it is.”

Someone else in his place would have acted offended or annoyed at her presumptuousness. Someone else would have scolded her. Someone else would have clicked their tongue, formed a grimace, and shaken their head ... Alice is speechless. Not fumbling for words, not avoiding words, not scared of words. It’s not some stranger. It’s him, it’s Noah. 

Noah, who taught her to swim and to count. 

Noah, whom she taught to read and write and to ride a bicycle. 

The same Noah whom she stole Frank’s moped with — and then they crashed it while learning to drive. Together. 

It’s the same man she’s known all her life, possessing the same unshakeable confidence and faith in their friendship.

While she almost threw it away. If not for this moment of bravery— Alice feels like a fool. She feels like a child who got scared of her own shadow.

“I don’t know why I’m like this,” she mutters. 

“I do.” Tilting sideways, he nudges her shoulder with his own, and the gesture is as familiar to Alice as her own breathing. “‘Cause you’re tired A-F, that’s why.”

The feeling of relief is so intense that for a moment Alice is worried her bones will melt.

The silence which follows is not strained in the slightest. It’s as comfortable as a warm blanket on a cold and stormy night. It’s the silence of two people who know each other so well, they barely need to worry about talking. With but a hint of concussed silence. 

For a time, they sit sipping their coffee, looking at the water, listening to the gentle, steady cadence of the waves. Alice remembers; this is not the first time the two of them are on this pier. They used to spend hours here, as kids. Although never in silence. 

“So. Tourists being a pain?” he finally pipes up. Alice turns just in time to see him adjusting his glasses again. Do they not fit well or is it a nervous habit?

“No. I mean, yes, I mean it’s—” This time, she does stutter. They say he is the perfect son. They say Betty is the luckiest mother on the island. Alice has no trouble believing this, and a small part of her is still reluctant and cautious in regards to his boundaries. He hasn’t badmouthed his family directly since the two of them were angsty hormonal teenagers. Tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, in what unmistakably is a nervous habit, she starts, “I’m grateful to Suki. She keeps the business running, she’s always so determined, full of energy. She’s a problem solver. She’s my sister and I lo—”

“Don’t,” interrupts Noah briskly, startling her. “Don’t do that.”

“D-do what?” She turns her head to find him looking at her not with a judgmental crease in his brow, but with a small sardonic smile. 

“Come on, Allie, it’s me. You don’t need to preface a rant with excuses. Just say it, say what’s on your mind. Go nuts.”

She has been apologizing and groveling, sometimes in advance, trying to appease so many people, to explain herself, for as long as she can remember. With Noah, she never felt the need to do that. Why start now?

“She’s pushy, Noah, she’s pushy, and it’s so hard on me,” Alice breathes out on a long exhale, peering right into his eyes. 

And just like that, words start to flow from her again. Alice talks about the many little things that bother her, that wear her out. The phone calls she hates making, ones Suki insists she makes. Suki ordering her about, Suki making decisions for them both without Alice ever being consulted, Suki calling her out in public, or demonstratively humiliating her by asking strangers for advice on what Alice needs to do — rather than discuss the issue in private or just let her off the hook. Suki berating her whenever she believes her inefficient; telling her off for not working as fast as she works, for not doing as much as her. Suki saying things like, ‘It’s time you learned how to put your foot down and take charge of things, or at least how to hold a pen right!’ or ‘What’s wrong with you today? Can’t you do a simple math sum?! What are you, five?’ or ‘Chop-chop! It’s fine to be a klutz from time to time, but if you keep on slacking, you’ll let the whole family down!’ 

Alice talks about feeling like a failure — while at the same time starting to believe that she isn’t. She talks about how much she wants to stop feeling like a failure, because she knows she isn’t. Noah listens almost without interjecting. He nods along, in acknowledgment, and once in a while manifests a scowl or an ‘Oof’. He’s right there with her, he knows what’s expected of her, of them, and he relates. There is no doubt in her mind anymore. 

It’s so liberating to talk about it all openly, and witness no judgment. It’s exhilarating.  

In a few words, a few gestures, and through his sheer presence, he grounds her, puts her back together, and imparts some of that bravery in the way only he knows how. 

“It’s hard to love them, sometimes. I know.” His voice is low, and it trembles. The smile on his face is fragile; Noah is looking down at his knees, at the water below the pier, at his cup. 

She finally notices, behind the beautiful veneer, and the stylish glasses, how puffed up his eyelids are from lack of sleep. This small detail strikes her. Alice’s chest constricts, her stomach clenches. Noah is just as tired. He’s exhausted. 

He’s not some superhuman, and the past two and a half years were just as hard on him. And he had no one to confide in, either.

“Noah,” she whispers, poking him in the shoulder, while at the same time registering the puzzling and alluring wish to cup his cheek instead — something she’s never done; a gesture that is so not them . “Your turn. Go nuts.”

Tossing his head up, he snorts. “You’re not gonna believe this, but it’s a-all the same shit—”

Alice listens to him talk about customers and suppliers, as rowdy and capricious as the ones she deals with; about how he handles them, and how tiring it is at times to keep a straight face, to be friendly and welcoming when all he wants is to strangle a dude. About equipment breaking down, about the days when everything at once goes wrong. 

She listens, hoping that for him, as well, a shared burden would no longer be as heavy. 

“Remember how we were teens, talking shit, saying all of the time about how we want to leave? That we hated the world and hated the island?” 

But did not hate one another. 

“Ow, man. Leaving is just not an option, even if I wanted to. But I had to go and learn and bust my ass for two years at uni, just to get a solid grip on how things oughta be handled, ‘cause I had no other choice, it was me or no one else, otherwise that mess of a tavern would have collapsed, now I’m bustin’ my ass here, but they—”

He talks about his family, for a long while. Noah tells her of how Betty still perceives and treats him as her baby boy, despite him being an adult and, by all known definitions, the most responsible sibling of them all, the one who always looks out for them; he talks of Aaliyah being moody and full of doubt, and getting into fights with their mom; about Frank’s devil-may-care attitude and the stupid experiments he pulls in the kitchen, trying to ‘expand’ the menu and fix what isn’t broken.

“And my sister-in-law is using me as a lab rat, and I let her, ‘cause she’s family now. But I swear, in comparison to everything else, that’s an upside, and—”

“Wait, what?” Alice stops him short, rewinding. “Lab rat? For what?”

“Everything.” Shrugging, Noah rubs the patch under his lower lip, with the pad of his thumb. “Hair and whatnot.”

Reclining, Alice freezes and stares at him, at the side of his head, at the neat, precise line-up. Suddenly, she’s wishing to run her hand over his undercut, just to find out if that neatly trimmed stubble would tickle. To learn what it feels like under her fingers. His hair used to be such a long shaggy mess... 

“Everything?” 

She sees his hand move in slow-motion. Noah aims to raise it to her face, but then stops midway, as if unsure. Alice holds her breath. Her heart is beating fast. He lowers his hand and fiddles with the lid of his empty cup instead.

A gentle breeze brushes past them, tugging at the hem of Alice’s blouse, flapping the collar of Noah’s shirt. She draws in a sharp breath as, distracted, she’s lost track of, well, everything. 

The tempo of the ocean waves is speeding up. The tide is rising. 

“Uuh, yup, everything. Nails and skin and all. Lucky for me, she’s a decent stylist.” His eyebrows jump, and she sees that they’ve been trimmed or plucked too. “So how’s my new look? Do I look like a proper douchebag?”

“Not even a little.” 

“No douchebag vibes, even? So much for all the crap that sister’s put me through.”

Shaking her head, Alice lets out a solitary chuckle which instantly turns into a fit of laughter. Eyes roving over her features, Noah joins her, and it feels so good to laugh with him again. So right.

“Aww, poor you. I should drop by Erika’s and save you by heroically volunteering myself,” she teases, still laughing.

“My sister-in-law might be a decent stylist, but even she can’t improve perfection,” Noah counters, and for an additional second that grin is still stretching his face, before faltering and then flattening. 

So does hers as the words sink in. Noah’s lips remain unsealed. He does not turn away. Instead, he holds her gaze. Eyes wide open, Noah is looking straight at her. 

This is brand new. Completely new and unexplored. 

Alice can feel heat rising to her cheeks, and she’s certain that it shows. She’s certain that he can hear her pulse pounding wildly in her veins; she feels like her heart is about to break out of her ribcage and jump right at him, and maybe a part of her wishes for Noah to keep looking at her like this forever, and, for another fleeting moment, she wants nothing more than to grab the collar of his shirt and to pull him close and taste his stupidly perfect mouth ... Exhaling, Alice ducks her head, hiding behind her hair, hoping that the sun will mask her blush.

Meanwhile, she can hear him clear his throat. Noah’s hand lands on her shoulder and squeezes it, and rocks her gently. “Anyway. It gets better. It’ll get better, Allie. We’ll pull through. We’ll make it, you and I.”

De-escalated. 

But what if she doesn’t want him to fully de-escalate it? 

Following an overwhelming, courage-fed impulse, Alice leans into him and wraps her free arm around his upper back, and nuzzles into his shoulder.

His breath catches. It takes him a few moments to relax, but he does: she can feel his lean muscles uncoil, can feel him ease into her half-embrace. Noah’s hand slips around her lower back. 

“Noah.”

“Mhm?”

“I don’t actually hate the island. I never have.”

“Me neither. I love the island. I do hate you a little now, though,” he mumbles into the top of her head.

“Yeah. I hate you too.” 

“Allie.”

She feels him shift; he is looking at her now.

“Mhm?”

“I have an idea. We both need a goddamn break. Let’s ditch our joints today. Let’s go somewhere.” Noah sounds resolute and gentle at the same time.

“Where?” Alice asks, but doesn’t dare raise her eyes to look into his.

“Does it matter?”

“I suppose not. But I’d have to tell Suki, and I—”

He squeezes his arm around her back. “It’s just an afternoon, Allie. We’re all grown up now, we don’t need to ask for permission.”

“But Suki is expecting me to—”

“Suki. Will. Be. Fine.”

Alice takes a deep breath, still nuzzling into his neck. He smells so good. Like fresh laundry, and a hint of cedar, but mostly, he smells like Noah. Like courage, like mischief and promises of an adventure, like venturing into the exciting unknown; like that low thrum of joy in her heart, so familiar, so forgotten. Like home. 

“Flower-spotting?” he pitches, and she’s finally feeling brave enough to draw away and look at him. 

His smile is now so sheepish that it would make any other man seem bashful. It just makes Noah appear boyish and sweet. 

“I’d love to.”

Looking away, Noah runs a hand through his hair, messing up his perfectly tidy spikes, and Alice can see that his palm is trembling, ever-so-slightly. “Remember how we went flower-spotting that one time and I did something stupid that I shouldn’t have done—”

“You kissed me,” she whispers. Was that stupid? Alice’s heart falls; she did not expect it to react with so much intensity.

But then he starts speaking again. “Allie, the stupid thing was, I ran away. So if I—” Taking a deep breath, he finishes, “I’m not stupid anymore. I’m not gonna do stupid things again, because—”

Interrupting him, someone materializes right on the pier in a rustling vortex of pink petals, and then, to Alice’s utter relief, leaves in a haste — right away, without saying a word to either of them or even acknowledging their presence. And yet. So rude. 

Noah slaps his knees, gets up, and offers her his hand. “Let’s go.”

As he pulls her away by the wrist, the way he used to do when they were kids, Alice suddenly understands the cause behind that mysterious anticipation. Why she was waiting for a miracle. 

She remembers now. When the alarm woke her up, she was dreaming of him.

[rippedstitch-s]

Status: OPEN Location: Somewhere near the Harbor

Dots of light shift on the surface of the water as Asa keeps a hand on one of the wooden mooring poles and watches boats rise and fall with the easy flow of the ocean. The salty smell of the docks is nostalgic, the view... maybe not so much. It's a nicer area - houseboats, fancy motorboats, technicolor lights and club music.

Maybe not so similar to the shores off Muir Éireann. He's been there for longer than he meant to, lost in thought, when he hears the clunking of steps on the dock and turns suddenly with a hand over his heart. "Oh, you scared me... thought I was alone out here." A wistful look back at the harbor. "Have y'ever been away from something so long, you're not even sure it still exists like it does in your mind's eye?" A moment of silence as he shakes his head, a sigh at himself. "...Does that even make sense?"

[lindwur-fr]

FR headcanons that I have but aren't supported by any on-site text

Food is measured as "One unit = 100 lbs"

Only User dragons tend to have any genes. "Canonical" dragons have Basics or EXTREMELY common genes that are feesibly "realistic" to see on animals, like stripes, spotting, etc

Dragons tend not to use weapons to fight and they're more showpieces if they have swords or spears. If a dragon is fighting, its ALL teeth and claws and magic. Duels are weapons-based though

SOME dragons out there use Fae Nests in the same way people use cliff swallow nests to make soup

Dragons eating other dragons isn't too unheard of, and ritualistic cannibalism is popular with Nature, Plague, Light, and Ice Clans

Users are dragons of some sort, but we don't know what kind. We've had a few NPCs refer to us as dragons in their text (Higgins, Dustcarve Dig, etc). Personally I believe it's the same breed that used to be on the "T for Teen" rating at the bottom of the site bar

The oceans of Sornieth aren't strictly salt water per-ce, but are highly mineralized depending on where you are, and some lower sections of the sea are salty, or even briny sub-oceans when you go deep enough

Light Flight's territory just REEKS right now. Not in the same, stale, mineral-laced way that the Scarred Wasteland does (The exposed flesh and dead biomaterial there is dried and doesn't produce much of a scent unless you're close to a pustule or wound, so it's more like dry rot), but Luminax is wet rot. Juicy. Leaking. Has a cloyingly sweet smell that sours as it hits your throat.

Luminax WILL eventually die, but not by means of the Light Flight's efforts. Rather, the sun in the Light Flight territory will get stronger and stronger, heating up Luminax's body, the gas builds up, insides twisted shut from all the movement of what is otherwise a decaying body... Pop.

Every species of dragon has a spot that you scratch and it "Starts their motor". Banescales, its under their horn where their ear would be. Gaolers, its their tummies. Coatls, under their chin. Wildclaws, behind their horns on either side of their crest.

Deities have scratching spots as well. But they're a well-kept secret (Stormcatcher's is right behind his ears. Rubbing there will release tension from a headache he's had because he's been clenching his jaw all day and cause him to just uncoil from all the relieved tension. Beware of static)