#exactly... ue....

[buffyspeak]

favorite jenny looks: season one

[byakuyasdarling]

I hate randomly blocking people that follow me for no reason other than “what they draw makes me uncomfortable” because it illustrates a fundamental misunderstanding of MY SCRIMBLO (/lh). I understand it’s simply conjecture, but people who highlight that part of his light novel (a part that was revealed to be a dream and not close to canonicity) bother me a lot.

[robininthewindow]

Yes

They need to invent more fake celebrities like Hatsune Miku and Gorillaz and the Muppets because it's genuinely the most sustainable way to maintain a parasocial relationship with the entertainer class.

[missing-a-place-ive-never-been]

[whimsical-hysteric]

gods i cant stop thinking about him

[lildoodlecat]

To You, Who Failed to Die

Just stand there, why don’t you. Look at what you’ve done. Are you proud? Are you happy? Did you mean to? Doesn’t matter. Never mattered anyway. So stand there in your blood, in that cinnabar circle. Stand there, surrounded by your own breathing corpse. Why not? They’re dead. They’re dead. Don’t you wish you were dead, too? Of course you do. That’s what this was all about. Death and ruin upon you and salvation for whoever else. It’s all that’s left, you said so yourself. Isn’t this what you wanted? You drew that circle. Stop standing so aimlessly and walk.

[maaarshieee]

OMHDHFYWOFUIFUWUDD SCREAMING

Gasps, omg hi 🤭🤭

Mayhaps... Request?? Hehe... Idea from that previous dottore post... Reader does something very cliche+romantic to dottore for shits and giggles, expecting him to like. Not react at all or walk away,, but reader did not expect him to be... Hella flustered 🤭 like dottore.exe has stopped working HSHDGSJGS

You can ignore this if you'd like, hope you have a nice day/night!!

Also can't help but notice the similar blog theme and dottore obsession we have...

AWFULLY CLICHE, YET MY HEART STILL BEATS FOR YOU... (W/ DOTTORE, CW: BLOOD AND CORPSE MENTION!)

GENERAL WARNING: dotdot, dottie, il dottore shenanigans!

IL DOTTORE sits around in his laboratory's steel chair, scapel at hand, reluctantly waiting for you. the experiment didn't go well. he looks at his bloody hands, disappointed. you did not arrive in time with the supplies necessary.

he failed because you did not bring the supplies. he was patient yet you failed him, he was seething.

the metal door opened, your familiar form stepping inside the room. you were awfully cheery for someone two second away from becoming his next test subject. he looked at you, you were holding a basket. a quaint little basket, a handmade picnic basket in fact. unless you managed to fit the very heavy machinery inside a picnic basket, you were doomed.

what surprised him whatsoever is when you opened a side of your basket, bringing out a checkered red and white blanket and laid it on the cold hard floor, avoiding the corpse currently meters away from you. you carefully slipped out a set of matching decorated china tea cups and cutlery. the pastries you laid out on the little china plates looked cute but-

"you still did not bring the supplies," IL DOTTORE sighed, "i have told you time and time again, we need to finish this project by next week."

you knew that, the tsaritsa was a demanding force, yet you always made sure you had your own share of fun. by extension that also meant he was forced to go along with whatever activity you had in store for the day.

"i know dottie," you grinned, meticulously pouring some of the tea into your teacup, "i already turned in the project you see, i worked on it alone and pretty much finished it results and all."

IL DOTTORE scowled, how come you kept this from him. he geniunely thought you trusted him.

"sorry doc, i know you were angry and pretty stressed so i organized this tea party for you. i settled things out so no work for the rest of the day!", you cheered, but in fact he did not feel any better. but alas, there was no reason not to enjoy the meal. sitting down, he took the teacup and filled it up, steam billowing from the hot liquid being poured.

he raised his cup to his mouth, but you prevented him from doing so, cupping his face gently, your arms entangled with his preventing any movement. he felt his heart squeeze, there it was again, that horrid feeling.

"now, now ZANDIK," you brought out your handkerchief, patting his cheeks ever so gently, wiping the fresh blood out of his face, "we can't have a proper picnic without cleaning up, can we?"

his face was burning, his heart beating loudly in his ear. you took off his mask, revealing his scarred skin underneath. you looked at him with kind eyes that made him melt, holding him like as if he was made of precious china set. he felt... warm. he felt safe within your arms.

you pressed your lips near his ear, your voice a faint whisper, "there. now we can see eye to eye."

ZANDIK swore to hate you, after all you were childish and strange. but if you were to continue holding him like that, he might just his pride go.

[sourpeachsayshi]

(size kink mention; drug use mention - all characters are 21+)

midnight snack {feat. you (yuji's best friend) x older brother choso}

it's late when you sneak into choso's room, finding your best friend's older brother wide awake and glued to his screen playing a video game. you softly knock on his door, and he quirks his brow in your direction in acknowledgement.

upon your arrival he speaks into his headphones, notifies whoever he is playing with that he'll be right back.

he knows exactly what you're here for - can tell from how you shyly gaze down at your feet and bite your bottom lip. he tilts his head towards his bed, "come in," he states sweetly, "shut the door behind you"

you do, as always. anticipation sending shivers all over your body.

you sit down on the edge of the mattress, eyes focused on his large frame motioning towards you. he practically meets your height when he kneels right in front you, the smell of weed sticking to his skin, his eyes a little red from the joint he smoked earlier.

the rings on his index and middle finger sparkle when he hooks them both underneath your fleece shorts, his eyes widening as a smile ticks his lips.

"making it easy for me, huh. you in a rush or something?" he teases.

"I left my underwear the last time. yuji found it while he was doing laundry..."

"I know, I told him it belonged to a friend. I still have it in my drawer," choso admits, looking up at you from underneath his shadowy lashes, and noting how your nipples are also poking through your tank top.

"so, is this how you sleep next to yuji whenever stay over?"

your cheeks burn with embarrassment.

"he doesn't care," you insist, "he doesn't...pay attention to this kind of stuff..."

"or so you think," choso chuckles, arching forward so his warm breath is fanning across your pulsing cunt.

"it's true-ue...ohhh," your eyes flutter close, you tummy coiling at choso's tongue gliding over the source of your pleasure.

"uh-huh," he laughs in a slightly condescending tone, "try to keep it down this time, sweetheart. I'm still in game..."

[mikobeautifulheart]

Megumi x reader 'first date'

TW: leave if you have gojo-phobia because he's going to be anoying in this one.

eh like maybe a 100 words at mosttt

Rblogs welcomed if u were wondering. JUST NO ITS NOT EDITED.

'I'll be at your dorm at 9:00, wear something comfortable' you read the text from Megumi over and over, your heart racing even faster ever time.

It was your first offical date with Megumi and he hasn't said anything about what it is. The only thing you knew was that Megumi was going to be here any minute.

You slipped out your uniform and into an outfit fit for a warm night like tonight. You and Megumi have spent hours the entire school day sending each other love sick gazes and awkward conversations. That's exactly why Gojo was sitting on top of the dormitory, waiting to catch somebody(s) sneaking out.

Gojo already knew something was up after the other night when he caught you guys in Megumis dorm, but he couldn't help but think something was up when Megumi turned red after looking at his phone.

You lied on your bed when you heard a knock at the door. It was Megumi, it had to be.

It was, you opened the door to a casual dressed Megumi holding a small handful of flowers. You could tell they were from the back of the school where plants were over grown and unkept.

It didn't bother you because the flowers were arranged and were wrapped with a blue ribbon tied into the prettiest bow. He must have looked and only picked out the flowers he thought he were the 'best'.

"Aww Megumi" you said taking the flowers he handed you and giving his cheek a quick peck.

His ears were red.

"When your done were going to need to sneak out" He said leaning in your door way as you willed a glass of water for the flowers.

"Okay" you said with a wide smile making his heart skip a bit.

When you looked at him you just realised he was holding two rolled up towels under his arm.

"Are we going to ues those" you said looking at the towels.

"Yeah." He said

You walked out the door and closed it behind you before linking your arm with Megumi's and walking down the doors hallway.

Megumi slowly opened the front door not letting it make a single creak. He held it open for you to walk through before shutting it gentely.

"So, where are we going" you whispered over the sound of crickets.

"You'll see" he said, a small smile growing

you both walked through the forest at the side of Jujutsu high and carefully stepped through bushes.

"I don't get it Megumi, where are we even going? There's nothing surrounding jujutsu high" you said looking down to try not trip over a fallen tree branch.

Just then a small gust of wind blew your hair back and you looked up to see a small beach infront of you.

You were astounded the sound of waves calmly leaving the shore made you feel like it was all a dream.

Megumi put the towels down near the forest and walked over to you holding a frisbee. You looked at it and started to walk backward with your arms up waiting for him to throw, but instead of catching a Frisbee, Megumi summoned his demon dogs that chased after you also waiting to catch the frisbee.

In the woods Gojo walked carefully hearing yours laugh and maybe most importantly, Megumi's laugh. Gojo was there for most of Megumi's life, he had been through alot, so hearing him laugh whole heartedly made him proud. Sure you weren't supposed to be out this late but he couldn't help but smile at the sound of Megumi laugh.

Fine, he'll let it slide, but not before getting a picture of you two and his dogs playing.

THANKS FOR READING ♡

AUTHORS NOTE: This is appart of my Meguimi growing up in Gojos eyes series. Don't worry most of the fics have little to no correlation, we build as we gooooo. If u have ideas or what u wanna read PLEASE REQUEST my inbox is so empty I'll die. Thanks for reading ig.

[deathlysallows]

Multiple MC's/posing tutorial:

Since people ALWAYS ask, and no one ever gives an in depth description on how to use all these mods I thought I would go ahead and make one! It always feels like everyone is gatekeeping their methods but really it's just a lot to explain and no one wants to type all that out so....

Anyway! Here's how I added multiple MC's into one shot and posed them all pretty!

1. You need the following mods:

2. Once you have all of the mods working you will start out making your mc into the first character you want added to your picture using the character editor mod, then get the outfit you want on etc. (You cant edit it once its out there so get it just right)

3. Youre going to use UE tools to duplicate your MC. press f10 to pull up the command bar and the in: "uetools_summon bp_biped_player_c"

(without quotes) Exactly like that then hit enter.

4. You should now have a second copy of your character hanging out by your original one. Now press f8 to open the animation mod, it now moves the most recently summoned mc instead of the one you are controlling. Use the postion and animation settings to move them where you want and find a pose you like. You won't be able to edit them once you summon the next character so make it look pretty!

5. Once you have posed your character, repeat steps 2-4 until you have posed all of the MC's you want. You cannot pose NPC's, but with other mods you can make an mc of them!

BONUS:

For the lighting, you dont have to wait around all day for the sun to light you up just right either. Type in "uetools_setworldsettings timedilation 20" to make time fast forward until the lighting is just right, then type "uetools_setworldsettings timedilation 1" to put it back to normal.

If you want to take a pic at night you can spawn a floating light source with the command "uetools_customlight pointlight 100 180 true"

This one you will want to mess with and practice with first. The first number where i have written 100 is a number representing the intensity of the light. 100 is very soft. The second number where i have put 180 is how spread out it is, so making it bigger will cause it to effect a greater area. Where it says true - that is what determines whether the light source you add will cast shadows. Type false is you dont want them - i usually do. The light spawns right in the center of your characters body, you will want to set custom lights up before posing any characters. Just walk around and spawn them, use "uetools_ghost" to let you fly in order to make yourself go higher or lower to change where you place the lights and then type "uetools_walk" to walk again. Custom light usually only shows up at night but in extra shadowy areas it works fine.

Sorry that was so long winded, I hope it helps someone! Doing the poses takes a really long time sometimes but its still fun to me lol

[red-dia]

YOU GET IT

Feeling like there's some untapped potential in a gem that's so brittle and tender they're only bound to live for a few hundred years because the erosion is getting to them fast..... knowing you're only there for a second when everyone else's lifespan is eternity... but being shielded so you can get a chance to live like them nonetheless.... even though you can feel time getting to you more and more and being aware that things can only get worse.... ough

[inexplicifics]

hi inex that one warlady milena and noble lambert ask has my brain whirling. i'm trying to think of how that would even come to be, and what milena's court might be like, because i can't imagine it'd be entirely like the kaer morhen we know.

and i keep thinking about how much happier lambert would be there, against his best wishes, without having to keep a polite face on since the nobles/witchers there would be much harder to offend, and finally being free of the pressure that comes with being third in line -- not the heir not the spare, but knowing that he'd be married off anyway.

(on that train of thought, i'd love to know exactly what his father's reasoning for sending him and not geralt or eskel instead) (or maybe they're brothers at heart, but he is his father's only actual son? the only one who might make political alliances, and lambert would hope that his father would keep him as an heir rather than have his cousin or wtv on the ducal seat, but he doesn't? that'd be so fucked up)

but anyway i'm heavily thinking about. warlady milena who is still a gently bred noble lady, as much as she has toughened up over the years, she'll never be as coarse as the men and women she leads, and her tribute which... what is she even meant to do with a noble tribute who doesn't seem to want anything to do with teaching witchers/warriors about political acumen or manners? the answer is to let him learn about alchemy and bombs, but that probably only shows up ue to circumstances, not right away. so lambert is in a sort of precarious position there and it's sooooo delightful

and i'm thinking about geralt and eskel who i'm assuming would be like. guards ? in the eventuality where they're really just chosen family, and them quitting lambert's father service days after they learn where lambert has been sent, and making the trek by foot which lambert would have done by portal, showing up a month or two later to their little brother being reluctantly happier now than he ever was before, and resolutey out of his father's crutches

this is so long but i'm thiinking so hard

I gotta admit I'm going in a very different and rather more batshit direction with this concept, but yours is awfully fun! Poor confused both of them!

[y-rhywbeth2]

Naming Systems

For the humans and tieflings of Baldur's Gate (and half-orcs and half-elves who follow human naming systems rather than that of their non-human culture) Dwarves, elves and others will be done another time to save space.

Obviously I imagine you've all named your Tavs and Durges by now, but idk, I felt like doing this and maybe you've got random background OCs to name.

Sometimes people like to name their kids after gods. Like "Helm" and "Torm".

Chondathan

By far the most common names and surnames in Baldur's Gate (including non-human names).

Quite often people have no official surnames and use locations and vocations as surnames, like in real life (Blackgate, Cliffgate, Tumbledown, Tailor, Gardner)

Families of Cormyrean descent usually favour portmanteau surnames: Evenwood, Breakwood, Ironwinter, Summergate, Amblecrown, etc.

Residents of the Dalelands who move abroad often use the name of their Dale and shorten it. For example, Barantra from Tasseldale upon moving to Baldur's Gate would call herself "Barantra Tassel" and her descendants might continue to use that as a surname.

Dales: Archen, Scar, Tassel, Deeping, Harrow, Battle, Feather, High, Mistle, Shadow, Moon*, Sessren*, Tarkhal*, Teshen*, Dagger, Merry* *These dales have fallen to history. In the case of Merrydale, the name was changed to Daggerdale after an incident involving a brutal vampire infestation that led to a lot of violence and made everybody suspicious and hostile, so these surnames would indicate it's been a long time since your ancestors left the Dalelands.

Sembian families like to invent newer and grander surnames, in an attempt to make themselves look rich and important. This is less likely to be seen in the Western Heartlands, but I suppose it still may occur. Families often hyphenate their names so you might meet "Shandri Clarandal-Tarlroyal", or "Roakyn Dauncrown-Sardar"

-

Canon common given names: Masculine: Darvin, Dorn, Evendur, Gorstag, Grim, Helm, Malark, Morn, Randal, Stedd. Feminine: Arveene, Esvele, Jhessail, Kerri, Lureene, Miri, Rowan, Shandri, Tessele. (Plus a few dozen more I'm not typing out)

While the following isn't exactly canon I feel like you can get a name that "sounds about right" by breaking the syllables down and shoving on a syllable that goes on the end.

Like with the names "Lureene" and "Arveene", the ending is "eene" and you get the syllables "Lur" and "Arv". Then you could get new names by taking, idk, "Kerri" and "Miri". Ker+ri, Mi+ri = Lurri and Kereene and Arvri. Mieene doesn't really sound right, but idk.

Syllables Dar, Dor, D, Even, Gor, Gors, Gr, Mal, M, Rand, Ran, St, S, Arv, Esv, Jhes, Ker, Shand, Bev, Tes, Al, Ald, Alvae, And, Gal, Galag, Cath, Coran, Bold, Bol, Elbas, Ind, Jath, Ont, Prend, Baran, Coel, Dar, Em, Shar, Galiy, Hael, Saldv, Dal, Torv, Varan, Joy, Sar, Pip, Nan, Zor, Nok, Rorn, Far, Soor, Mi

Endings Masculine: -in, -vin, -orn, -dur, -ur, -tag, -stag, -im, -ark, -al, -dal, -edd, -arl, -rel, -rus, -us, -or, -ion, -stion, -ond, -dor, -yn, -dyn, -yk, -ryk, -ke, -il

Gorion, Darvin, Malryk, Tesor, Jathstag...

Feminine: -eene, -ele, -sail, -ri, -dra, -tra, -ra, -la, -ria, -ara, -arra, -one, -ue, -due, -syl, -ala, -ys, -ae, -naem, -ice, -e

Shandra, Miele, Darla, Arvone, Sarice, Cathtra, Bevra...

-

Alzhedo

The second most common group of names heard in the Gate, although early in the city's history I suspect Calishite and Illuskan names were more common. I note that "Jaheira" is likely an Alzhedo name (which makes sense, she's from Tethyr).

So, Calishite filial piety and subsequent naming standards are very detailed and specific: "A person is worthless without the identity gained by his name and that of his family."

A slave will have their given name and the name of the family that "owns" them. A large part of the population of Baldur's Gate are descended from former slaves, exiles and dissidents of the Calishite Shoon Empire, and would likely have originally borne names under that system.

In this case it's [name] adh [master's surname] So for example, Hamlil adh Tahandral. It's possible that it Hamlil had migrated northwards with her family that one of her descendants might be Miri Tahandral or something.

A freeman would list their title/s, their given name, their matronym or patronym, their family name, and their home town.

So if your name is Aseid, your father is Haseir, you're of House Dumein and you live in Baldur's Gate then: your full name, in the traditional manner, is "Aseid yn Haseir el Dumein yi Baldur's Gate," while if you have a sister, Ceidil daughter of Atala is called "Ceidil yr Atala el Dumein yi Baldur's Gate."

Adding your hometown onto the end is usually not necessary, and using it all the time is a sign of civic pride.

Diaspora, such as the Baldurians, usually drop the articles. Aseid Haseir Dumein Ceidil Atala Dumein.

Aseid may chose to use a matronym, Aseid Atala. This deliberately draws attention to her identity over her husband's which is unusual. It implies that his mother is particularly high ranking or infamous. Likewise Cidil may name herself Ceidil Haseir.

Clergy traditionally replace their family with their god, so if Aseid decides to go to the Rose Portal shrine and take up life in service to Lathander, he will be "Aseid el Lathander" or "Aseid Lathander".

Syllables As, Am, And, Bard, Has, Khem, Khe, Meh, Sud, Sudei, Zash, At, Ceid, Cei, Ha, Ham, Jah, Jas, Mei, Meil, Seip, Sei, Yash, Bash, Dum, Jas, Khal, Kha, Most, Mos, Pash, Amj, Tah, Tahan, Bhal, Mjo

Endings: M: -eid, -eir, -ed, -med, -en, -men, -man, -ad, -id, -al, -ein, -an, -ar, -ein, -san, -ir

Amen, Mehsan, Khemad, Zashein...

F: -ala, -edia, -eira, -eda, -il, -a, -ma, -al, -lil, -ida, -eina, -ana, -ara, -eina, -sana, -ira

Jaheira, Bhalil, Yashana, Tahma...

?: -sha

Canon common names: Masculine: Aseir, Bardeid, Haseid, Khemed, Mehmen, Sudeiman, Zashtir. Feminine: Atala, Сеidil, Hama, Jasmal, Meilil, Seipora, Yasheira, Zasheida. Common house names: Dumein, Jasan, Khalid, Mostana, Pashar, Rein.

-

Illuskan

Third most common group.

I can't find much of anything about how naming systems are supposed to work for Illuskans.

Some don't use them at all.

Some go for patronyms and matronyms: -sson and -sdottir, so you get like, Malcersson and Cefreysdottir. These do not seem to be common. Some surnames are: "Kurth", "Helder", "Rethnor", "Stornar", "Rhuul"... This is entirely headcanon/guessing, but maybe they're patronyms and matronyms with the suffix removed? Luthin Cefreysdottir -> Luthin Cefrey?

Some gain names for themselves, self-bestowed or bestowed by reputation, based on aspects of themselves or their deeds that they're proud of or that give them fame: Nimoar "the Reaver", Ornar "of the Claw".

Most have surnames of some kind, some are portmanteaus: "Tenfeather", "Hornraven", "Windrivver", "Hathwinter", "Brightwood", "Lackman", "Stormwind", "Gnarlybone." This seems to be the most common form of surname. I'm entirely hypothesising, but Illuskan cultures value bravery and strength (particularly in battle) so I'd assume those are deed-names, possibly inherited from a famous ancestor?

Syllables: And, Bla, Bl, Br, Fr, G, Lan, Land, L, Mal, Malc, Sto, Tam, Am, Ama, Be, Beth, Ce, Keth, Mar, Ol, Sili, West, Wes, Or, Alas, Aga, Jaun, Von, Oj, Ost. Uth, Nash

Endings: M: -er, -ath, -ran, -eth, -uth, -der, -or, -an, -nar, -gar

Nasher, Oruth, Landgar, Ander, Vonor, Westran...

F: -frey, -tha, -ra, -ga, -tra, -da, -in, -ya

Agatha, Ojya, Malda, Stoya, Ceda, Luthin...

Canon common names: Masculine: Ander, Blath, Bran, Frath, Geth, Lander, Luth, Maler, Stor, Taman, Urth. Feminine: Amafrey, Betha, Cefrey, Kethra, Mara, Olga, Silifrey, Westra.

-

Rashemi (Gur)

The Gur still speak a variant of the proto-Rashemi tongue amongst themselves in private, so depending on how much they assimilate or not I imagine at least some of the names might be similar?

I can find even less about Rashemaar surnames than I can anyone else right now.

Surnames used by Rashemi are: Chergoba, Dyernina, Itazyara, Murnyethara, Stayanoga and Ulmokina. Names like that might be Gur tribe names?

Syllables: Fyev, Bori, Bor, Faur, Hulm, Hul, Jand, Jan, Im, Kanith, Kani, Kan, Madi, Mad, Nav, Madis, Ralm, Shau, Shaum, Vladis, Vlad, Dyna, Min, Tam, Yul

Endings: M: -vik, -gar, -ik, -ar, -islak, -ak, -evik, -insk

F: -arra, -mith, -ith, -zel, -el, -dra, -ra, -heir

Canon common names: Masculine: Borivik, Faurgar, Jandar, Kanithar, Madislak, Ralmevik, Shaumar, Vladislak. Feminine: Fyevarra, Hulmarra, Immith, Imzel, Navarra, Shevarra, Tammith, Yuldra,

[whiskey-tango-matcha]

Then & Now (M, cold)

Hiii, hope you like A LOT of hurt followed by 2-3 sentences of comfort lmao. This is Greyson fic - Grey is sick on a day he and Reed are supposed to have a date, and he's sure Reed is going to be angry with him because Trauma(TM). It's told in a flashback sort of format which I really enjoyed because I love writing blurbs of colds at different times in life lol. I hope you guys like it, please let me know what ya think, good, bad, or otherwise :)

CW: Male snz, cold, pneumonia mention, coughing, contagion mention, lots and lots of whump lmao. A little over 4K words under the cut.

Then & Now

Now

“Morning, Chef.”

“Huh-! HhITSZHH-ue!”

Elijah turned towards Greyson, who was doubled over into his hoodie sleeve, and gave him a sympathetic grimace. “Cooks finally pulled you under, hmm?”

“Ugh, like way fuckin’ under,” Greyson muttered, rubbing his eye and sucking in through his nose. “I feel like ass.”

“Sorry, dude,” Elijah said, tossing his counterpart a box of tissues. “Sucks.”

Greyson caught the box and pulled out a few just in time. “HITSZHZH-uhh!” This one, he managed to catch in the handful of tissues. He wiped his nose and shrugged. “Yeah,” he said, tossing the used tissues. “Mbostly because I was supposed to have a date tonight.”

Elijah smirked at his friend, who was pushing past the GM into their shared office. The two of them sat in unison. “Do you guys still call them dates? You’ve been official for, like, six months.”

“It’s our six-month anniversary,” Greyson said, his voice flattened by congestion. “We were going to do EMP.”

“Awww, now I’m depressed,” Elijah said. “Also, why didn’t you tell me earlier you were going to Eleven Madison? I still know people there.”

“So does Reed,” Greyson said, massaging his temple. “That’s why we were goigg. Fuck, mby fuckin’ head is pounding. Do we have any -?”

Elijah placed the ibuprofen in front of the chef before he could ask, along with a bottle of cough syrup and a decongestant. “You know we have it all,” he said, pushing an old cup of water across the desk for Greyson to swallow his arsenal of pills. “And fair enough. Well that fuckin’ sucks, dude, I’m sorry. Hey, at least you can leave early, right? Matt’s closing?”

“Yeah,” Greyson said, unwrapping a cough drop and popping it in his mouth. “I’ll head out once the rush is over. I still have to text Reee – hh...hhNTSHH-ue! HGTSHH-uhh!” Greyson doubled over, sneezed into his arm, and groaned. “I’mb gonna kill the guys when they get in,” he said, mostly to himself.

“Don’t do that,” Elijah said, placing a hand on Greyson’s shoulder on his way out of the office. “Then you’ll have to stay all night.”

Greyson huffed out a laugh and pulled out his phone. He clicked on his conversation with Reed, sighing. He did not want to have this conversation.

Greyson

9:31AM

hey babe. gonna have to cancel tonight, the cooks infected me w their plague :( im rly sorry.

The chef set his phone on the desk, prepared to either be ghosted or gaslit – two of Collin’s favorite pastimes whenever Greyson had had to cancel their plans during their relationship – and was shocked when the phone buzzed with a text almost immediately. He was almost afraid to look at his boyfriend’s response.

Reed

9:32AM

Oh, baby don’t be sorry!! what time are you off? I’ll pick you up and take you home :) we can do a sick day little date night instead!

Greyson stared at the phone, stunned. He couldn’t help it; he read the message again, then out loud said, “What the fuck?”

Then – Ten Years Ago

“Chef?”

The Executive Chef looked up from his paperwork at Greyson and sighed. “What is it, Abbott?”

“I, um – hh! HTSHH-uh! HGXTSH-ue! Snf. Umb, I just wanted to see if it was okay if I… left a little early today?” Greyson asked, his voice barely above a whisper. His chef raised his eyebrows and put his clipboard down. Oh, no, Greyson thought.

“Leave...early? And leave your clean up and prep to whom, exactly? Me?” The Executive Chef huffed out a laugh. “That’s rich, Abbott. Why the fuck would you need to leave early?”

“I…” Greyson started, but his voice gave out on the single syllable. He attempted to clear his throat. “I just… I really feel like shit? I was hoping I could, like… sleep it off, I guess. I mbean, I wouldn’t want to get anyone else sigck.” Greyson felt a cough bubbling to the surface; he tried to quell it, to no avail. The younger man collapsed into a coughing fit that felt like it lasted a lifetime.

The Chef remained unmoved. “My guys,” he said, placing a hand on his chest as Greyson attempted to compose himself, “don’t get sick, Abbott. And if they do, I don’t fucking hear about it. Understand? Because I really don’t give a shit. If you’re here, you’re here. If you decide to leave early,” he shrugged, uncaring, “then you leave for good. And Abbott, if you try to get a job after walking out of my kitchen, I promise you I will make it impossible. I know you’ve only been here a couple months, but here’s what you need to learn: put your head down and do your fucking job, and you can work anywhere in the world after this. Be a whiny piece of shit who tries to walk out on his shift, and you’ll be working at McDonald’s for the rest of you life. Got it?”

Greyson, too shocked to rebut, just bobbed his head up and down.

“Let me hear you say it,” the Chef said. Greyson cleared his throat.

“Yes, Chef,” he said. The Chef nodded.

“Now get the fuck out of my office.”

Now

“Elijah. Look at this text.”

The GM looked up slowly from the iPad where he was going over reservations for the evening. “...Why?” he asked, taking the phone from Greyson’s hand.

“Just look. Tell mbe that’s ndot weird,” Greyson said, crossing his arms over his chest. Elijah looked down, confused, and read the text. He pinched his eyebrows together just a little, and read it again. “See? Isn’t that weird?”

“Greyson…” Elijah said, handing the phone back. “That’s not weird.”

“Seriously?” Greyson asked, reading the text yet again. “It’s bizarre. He’s ndot even a little mad? C’mon. That’s weird.”

“He’s being sweet,” Elijah explained, slowly, as though he were talking to a toddler. “Did you want him to be mad? Because that’s bizarre.”

“Ndo I don’t want him to be mad. I jus – HTSZHH-ue! HRRSHH!” Greyson wrenched to the side to sneeze, which sent him into a fit of hacking coughs. “I just figured he’d want to, like, yell at mbe or something. For canceling,” Greyson finished, his voice strained against another cough. Elijah didn’t respond, not at first, and instead pressed a hand onto the chef’s forehead.

“I think you’re sicker than we thought, because you’re acting fucking delusional,” he said as Greyson slapped his hand away. “Greyson, normal people don’t yell at each other for getting sick, or having to cancel a plan. That’s, like, really twisted.”

Greyson rolled his eyes. “It’s ndot twisted, Lij you fuckin’ drama queen,” he said, then held up a finger. “Onesec – hh! Hh...hnn.” Greyson sniffled, a let out a little irritated cough. “Lost it.”

“Go back to the kitchen,” Elijah said, pointing towards the swinging doors. “Sit down. Rest. Let your medicine kick in. I don’t want people seeing this -” he gestured to Greyson, as if to allude to his entire being – “when they walk past the restaurant. Alright? Text your boyfriend something nice. Not something unhinged.”

“Oh, fuck you,” Greyson muttered, turning toward the kitchen, his phone still open to the conversation with Reed. He turned towards Elijah again before pushing through the kitchen doors. “I still say that this is the unhinged thing.”

“Go to therapy, Greyson,” Elijah said, not looking up from the iPad. Greyson rolled his eyes, pushed into the kitchen, and regarded his phone once again.

Greyson

10:07AM

thanks, babe. it’s ok, I can take care of myself. it wont be a long day, ill just grab some nyquil omw home and sleep it off. ill reschedule our rezo too, don’t worry about that. im really sorry again for canceling. if I could taste the food id still go lol.

Figuring that sounded at least relatively normal, Greyson hit send. He sat down at his desk once again and placed his head in his hands. No way he’s not pissed, Greyson thought, and he really believed it. In all his years of dating, he’d never met anyone who would respond that way; they’d at least have a snippy remark about the last-minute nature of the cancellation.

Greyson’s phone pinged once again, and he couldn’t help but grab it right away to assess the damage.

Reed

10:08AM

honey, please don’t apologize, seriously. youre sick, it happens, its no biggie :) I already moved the reservation to next week but if we need to ill move it again. james at emp said to tell you feel better btw.

Greyson blinked, dumbstruck. He started typing without thinking.

Greyson

10:10AM

you REALLY arent mad? seriously?

Reed

10:10AM

im really not mad. who gets mad at someone for being sick…? is someone at work mad at you? am I supposed to be mad..? lol

Greyson

10:11AM

I mean its a last minute cancellation. id understand if u were mad.

Reed

10:11AM

welllll….im not. is that ok? haha

Reed

10:15AM

grey…? you believe me, right?

Reed

10:21AM

greyson..?

Then – Seven Years Ago

He was moving through molasses.

Greyson placed a sluggish hand to his own forehead – you can’t check yourself for a fever, dumbass – and blinked painfully. He’d made it to work, he’d made it through the day, and he’d made it back home, against all odds. Now, he was stuck on his couch, unable to even crawl to the bathroom for a thermometer.

It had all compounded on him, was his guess. The endless fourteen hour days for the better part of two years at his thankless sous chef job. The shitty Chicago-suburbs apartment with no heat, where he froze for the few hours a week he slept. The near-constant drinking. Sure, he was only twenty-five, but what was it they said about this industry? It ages you in dog years. Yeah, that was it.

“Hh-! Hh...ITSZHH-ue! HTSHHH-ue!” Greyson sneezed helplessly into the blanket he’d wrapped around himself, and groaned. This was not what he’d imagined when he moved here from Minnesota. He’d thought it would be glamorous, working as a sous chef at a high-end hotel in a big city. He thought he’d have friends, or a girlfriend, or something. Instead, he was trapped on his couch, benched by a sinus infection and seasonal depression that seemed to last the whole year round. Fuck this, Greyson thought. He couldn’t get off the couch, but he could reach his phone; Greyson pulled up Indeed and changed his search parameters.

Actively searching for work. Location: Any.

Now

“Um… Chef? What’s, uh… what’s going on?”

Greyson paused for a moment, a crate of spoiled food held on his shoulder. He turned towards Matt, keen to answer, but instead held the crate tighter and wrenched to the side. “HRTTSHH-uh!”

“Bless you,” Matt said, an automatic reaction. Greyson nodded, turned towards the dumpster, and dumped the food in before beginning the cycle anew: pick up crate. Turn to sneeze. Dump old food. Matt wasn’t sure if he should help his boss, or go inside for backup.

He chose the former, picking a crate filled to the brim with rotten tomatoes off the ground and hoisting it into the trash. “You gonna tell me what’s up?” he asked as the two of them continued gathering and tossing.

Greyson sighed, pulled a hand down his face, and shook his head. “I thingk Reed and I are over,” he said, voice soft and throaty. Matt’s eyebrows shot up.

“What? Seriously? What did you do?” Matt asked, prompting a stuffy laugh from his boss.

“I just don’t thingk it’s going to work,” Greyson said, shrugging. “I… I don’t want to, like, play gambes. I can’t do that again, ndot after Collin.”

“Chef,” Matt said as he gathered and tossed the last milk crate, “what are you talking about? Reed is, like, the most straight-shooting guy I’ve ever met. How is he playing games?”

Greyson, left without anything to occupy his hands, just shrugged and pulled out his phone. He handed it to Matt without explanation, and the sous quickly read through the text conversation Greyson and Reed had going. Matt furrowed his brow.

“I don’t get it,” he said, handing the phone back. “He wants to take care of you, what’s the problem with that?”

“He doesn’t want to take care of me, he wants to have the upper hand,” Greyson explained, pulling out a pack of cigarettes and sitting on the step just outside the back door. “Want one?”

“Sure,” Matt said, sitting beside his boss. “I mean, you shouldn’t be smoking if you’re -”

“HTSHH! Hh-! ITZSHH-ue!” Greyson turned into his elbow, taking a long moment to gather himself before handing Matt his cigarette.

“-sick,” Matt finished. The older man shrugged, and Matt plucked the lighter out of Greyson’s hand to light both of them up, not daring to push his boss any closer to the edge. For a moment, they smoked in silence, only Greyson’s sniffles and coughs interrupting the quiet.

“Boss,” Matt said, finally, “I think you need to talk to Reed.”

“I did,” Greyson said, stubbing out his cigarette. “You saw.”

“No, I mean actually talk to him,” Matt said. The two of them stood, looking at each other – a face-off without the malice. Matt continued. “Not ignore his texts and clean out the walk-in.”

Greyson scoffed. “Matt, just because you have sombe fairy-tale love story doesn’t mbean everyone else does, too. Okay? If it’s over between me and Reed, it’s fine. I’mb better off alone, anywaa – hh! Hh… Hhhii-!” Greyson stood with his elbow poised at his face, stuck in pre-sneeze agony for what seemed like an eternity. While he was incapacitated, Matt took his phone and typed out a message that his boss couldn’t see. Finally, Greyson lowered his arm and sucked in, fruitlessly, through his nose. “The fugck are you doigg?” he asked, snatching his phone back from his sous.

“If you’re not going to talk to Reed,” Matt shrugged, unapologetic, “I will.”

Greyson looked down at his phone, which buzzed twice in his hand. Reed’s face popped up on the screen. Call from: reed <3

Then – Three Years Ago

“HTSHH! Huh! ETZSHH-ue! HRTTSHH-ue!”

“Bless, bless, bless you. Allergies?” Collin asked, not looking up from his phone. Greyson sniffled in vain, and coughed painfully.

“Ndot exactly,” he croaked from the doorway to Collin’s living room. “Baby, do you thingk you could drive mbe to urdent care, actually?”

Collin looked up and slowly raised an eyebrow. “For what?” he asked, obviously annoyed. Greyson swallowed as best he could and placed a hand on his throat.

“I thingk… I mbight have strep. Or bronchitis, or sombething. I, uh… I’ve had a fever for like. A week.” Greyson had to stop to close his eyes and grab onto the door frame, a sordid attempt to keep from hitting the floor like a rotten sack of potatoes. Collin rolled his eyes.

“You’re such a drama queen. You seemed fine when you came over last night.”

“You were asleep whend I came over,” Greyson said, his eyes still closed. “Did you ndot notice that I haven’t been over in like five days?”

Collin shrugged. “I mean, yeah, but I figured you were busy with work. You’re always busy with work,” he said, the venom in his voice making clear that he wanted to fight.

Greyson, physically incapable of fighting at that moment, just slid slowly to the ground and nodded. “Yeah. You’re right,” he said. “Ndow I’m paying the price. Please, baby. Can you please just take me? I… I really don’t feel well.”

It was pathetic. He knew it, but he couldn’t stop himself; he was fairly sure he was moments from passing out. Collin turned and made himself comfier on the couch.

“I’ll call you an uber,” he said, pressing some buttons on his phone. “You barely make time for me, and now you’re asking me to be your chauffeur? Please, Greyson.” He showed his ailing boyfriend the phone. “He’ll be out front in five minutes. Better make your way down.”

“Okay,” Greyson said, pulling himself slowly to his feet. “Thangk you.”

Collin didn’t say a word as Greyson let himself out of the apartment. He made it downstairs, and into the uber, and into the waiting room at urgent care. He made it out by himself, too, with a laundry list of prognoses – strep, sinus infection, walking pneumonia – and a handful of prescriptions. When he texted Collin later to fill him in, his boyfriend didn’t text back.

Greyson fell asleep on his shower floor and awoke to freezing water pounding on him, and a courier pounding on his door. When he toweled off and answered it, chicken soup from the local bodega and a note that read feel better -c sat at his feet. Greyson breathed a sigh of relief; at least he had been forgiven.

Now

Reed had dated plenty of men is his thirty-five years of life, and had found that there were two general categories when it came to sick men: there was the Baby, and there was the Don’t Look at Me.

Greyson though, an enigma since the moment they met, seemed to fall into a third category, a category that was, to Reed, yet undiscovered: the You Hate Me.

Reed was good with the first two categories; the Don’t Look at Me, you left medicine outside their room and texted them funny memes. The Baby, you laid in bed with them and spoon-fed them soup. Easy. Understandable. Truthfully, this was one of his favorite things about men: they were easy to crack. He figured Greyson would likely fall into the Baby category, which was fine by him – there was nothing he’d like more than to look after an ailing Greyson, to be honest. This third category he seemed to embody, though, was not something Reed knew what to do with.

“He didn’t answer when I called him,” Reed said into the phone receiver. “I just want to know what’s going on, I mean, did I say something wrong?”

On the other end of the line, Elijah sighed. “No, you didn’t do anything wrong. This is just… it’s just Greyson being Greyson.”

Reed wasn’t about to take this lying down. “Hey, are you guys super busy tonight? I mean, I don’t want to be that boyfriend, but, like, can I come get him? We really need to talk, and if what Matt said is true he probably shouldn’t be, like, working anyway, right?”

While Elijah paused, Reed pulled the phone away from his ear and once again re-read the text Matt had sent from Greyson’s phone: hey reed, it’s matt. grey is sick as hell, so DO NOT take any of the crazy weird shit he says seriously, k? his temperature needs to lower by like 5 degrees before you do this, but u guys need to actually talk. he’s being stupid.

“Please,” Reed heard Elijah’s tinny voice on the other end and put the phone back to his ear. “Please, come and collect him. I’m begging.”

Reed stood from the couch and grabbed his keys. “Give me twenty minutes. I’m on my way.”

Then – Two Years Ago

“Heyyy, baby, cand I buy you a dringk?”

The girl leaned back, her face marked by disgust. “No, thanks. Save your money and get yourself some NyQuil,” she said, disappearing into the crowd. Greyson huffed out a sigh and coughed into his hand – a long, crackling sound that made the other bar patrons inch their chairs away.

“She’s right, you know,” the bartender – Skip, Greyson had learned his name was a few weeks back when he had started coming in every night – said, filling Greyson’s shot glass yet again. “You need to go home.”

“And yet you pour mbe another drink,” Greyson said, knocking back the shot. “The duality of mban. NGTXSH! HTSHH! Huh-! HRRSHH-ue!” Greyson covered his mouth lazily with one hand, wiped it on his pants, hand held the glass up to indicate ‘another’.

“Bless you,” Skip said, not pouring the shot. “Greyson, seriously: go home. You sound fucking awful.”

“Are you cutting mbe off?” Greyson asked, his rheumy eyes meeting Skip’s over the bartop. “Because unless you are, I’mb staying.” He coughed again, into his elbow; the cough was quickly becoming a problem. He’d had a cold two weeks ago; the symptoms had been mild, but the cough had hung around. When he caught whatever-the-fuck this was two days ago, the cough had turned from an annoyance to a pressing issue; he should go home. He should go to the doctor, he should take a day off, he should, he should, he should.

But he wouldn’t. He would stay, and he would drink until he was kicked out, then he’d pass out on the train and not make it home to sleep. He’d go to work at seven AM and stay until midnight and do it all again.

“I’m not kicking you out,” Skip sighed. “I’m just saying… you should take care of yourself.”

Greyson blinked slowly. He could feel his lungs, heavy with fluid, gearing up to cough again; his head, pounding in spite or because of the alcohol; his heart crushed into a million, Collin-sized pieces. Take care of yourself. It felt impossible, when you’d never been shown how.

“This is mbe taking care of myself,” he said, clearing his throat. “I’ll have another.”

Now

Greyson rested his head on a case of lettuce in the corner of the walk-in. He knew he should be continuing his madness of cleaning, but he’d accidentally sat down on his fifth trip into the refrigerator, and now he wasn’t sure he’d be able to get up again.

Fucking Reed, Greyson thought as he allowed the cold salad box to sate the fever he had burning in his brain. Why can’t he just be up front with me? If you’re mad just say it, don’t fucking torture me.

Perhaps deep down, he knew he was being ridiculous; Matt and Elijah were most likely correct. The simplest answer – that Reed truly was just a good guy – was probably the right one. But he just couldn’t get out of his mind all the times he’d reached out, needed help and asked for it, and been shot down. He certainly couldn’t allow himself to believe that the person he was dating was truly good; he knew he’d never deserve that.

“Greyson?”

Speaking of Reed, that sounded a lot like him – was Greyson hearing things? Had he, in his fever-addled state, conjured a hallucination of his boyfriend to have a fight with? Bizarre, Grey, he thought to himself. That’s really fucking bizarre.

“Grey? Elijah said you were in here but I don’t – oh!”

Either this was a really crazy hallucination, or that really was Reed standing over him, in the walk-in. Greyson blinked hard, then blinked again, and suddenly Reed was on the ground next to him.

“Babe...it’s really cold in here. Do you think we can, um, leave?”

Greyson furrowed his eyebrows together. “Leave… and go where?” he asked, his voice cracking. “I have to… work. What are you doigg heeee...HRTSHH-ue! Huh -! HTSHH! NTSHH! IGXTSH!” Greyson attempted to stifle over and over, until Reed gently took his hand and pulled it away from his face.

“That has to hurt,” Reed said, his voice quiet and calm. “You can just… sneeze, you know. Like, regular.”

“Tryigg ndot to get you,” Greyson croaked, his eyes glazing over once again. “Youbettermov – HRRETSZCHH-ue! ITSZZHH-ue! Fuck – NGTSHHZ-ue!” Greyson sneezed into his lap, then coughed until his lungs felt sore. Reed didn’t move; he came closer and rubbed Greyson’s back.

“Bless you, baby,” Reed said, eventually.

“Thangks. Sorry,” Greyson murmured, pushing his hair out of his face and turning to look at Reed. “Why are you here?” he asked, levity out the window.

Reed let out a little laugh. “Umm, why do you think?” he asked. “You’ve been ignoring me since this morning. I got worried, since Matt said you were super sick – no lie detected, by the way, you sound truly awful –”

“Sorry,” Greyson said again, wiping under his nose. “I kndow, it’s gross.”

“Please, Grey,” Reed said, taking both sides of his boyfriend’s face in his hands and looking him in the eye. “Please. Stop apologizing. It’s okay to be sick. I don’t understand why you think I’m angry at you. I’m not.”

Greyson swallowed, painfully, and gave a little nod. “Okay,” he said, finally.

“Okay,” Reed repeated. “Anyway. I called Elijah. He said to come and collect you.”

At this, Greyson couldn’t help but cough out a laugh. “Collect mbe?” he asked. Reed smiled a little.

“Yeah,” he said. “His words, not mine.”

They both laughed, softly at first, then ramping up to near-hysteria. They only stopped when Greyson started coughing again and couldn’t seem to stop.

“Let’s go get you some water,” Reed said, helping his boyfriend to his shaky feet. Greyson allowed himself to be pulled out of the walk-in, and given a bottle of water that was sitting on his prep station. Greyson drank until the fit subsided, then regarded Reed once again.

“So… you really aren’t mbad?” he asked, rubbing his goosebumped arms up and down. Reed shook his head and shrugged off his windbreaker. He draped it over Greyson’s shoulders.

“I’m really not mad,” he insisted. Greyson nodded, seemingly satiated. Reed sighed through his nose and slipped his arms around the chef.

“Life’s done a number on you, huh?” he asked, quietly enough that it could’ve just been to himself. Greyson huffed out a sad little laugh.

“Like you wouldn’t believe, baby,” he murmured, pressing his hot head into Reed’s hair. “Like you wouldn’t believe.”

[wish-archives]

Mermay: Sumeru Edition!

Summary: Mermaid-themed content! Each character has their own different narratives/scenarios separate from each other - hope you’ll like these!

Characters: Alhaitham, Kaveh, Tighnari, Cyno, Wanderer/Scaramouche

Wordcount: ~700 each

My coworker is a mermaid?!

You’re one of the few merpeople who’s moved to the human city—so long as you avoided being submerged in water, you had enough control over yourself to prevent your legs from shifting back into a tail.

It’s an interesting life, working at a detective agency with Alhaitham as one of your co-workers. But one day when you’re feeling sick from the hot weather and skip a meeting, Alhaitham visits your apartment himself to deliver investigation files; it's the first time you guys have been assigned to a case together despite how long you’ve both been in the company, so he thought it’d be quicker to visit you himself and inform you as such, being the efficient man he is. (You also weren’t answering your texts so he was a little worried—you’ve always been a prompt replyer otherwise.)

…What Alhaitham doesn’t expect however is for you to ghost him at the door despite the lights indicating that you were definitely home. Did something happen? Were you safe? Within this line of work it was definitely possible to get mixed up with enemies of some sort, so with that in mind Alhaitham managed to find the extra key you kept outside (organized as ever, and also something Kaveh mentioned to him while the blonde was drunk) and entered your home.

He calls out your name a few times, at first hearing nothing in response—before the sound of something dropping against the ground echoes from another end of the apartment. Alhaitham follows the clue, bracing himself for a surprise attack if this was really the worst case scenario, and kicks open the bathroom door where he hears scrambling and water splashing—

The first thing he sees is your tail. Glistening against the light, more beautiful than he’d care to admit in the chaos of the moment. Then his gaze falls to your face, your eyes widened in surprise before shifting into panic, and it takes Alhaitham a moment to register that when you struggle to sit up and leave the tub, the tail that lashes water everywhere and flops against the cold tiles is yours. 

Suffice to say, he had a lot of explaining to wring out of you once you calmed down. Alhaitham hasn’t heard about merpeople being real since he was a child, and maybe a random conspiracy theory from an unreliable source—but the moment he realizes you’re running a fever, Alhaitham settles his doubts to tend to the matter at hand; picking you up and settling you back into the tub, he avoids your gaze and asks what temperature of water you needed to cool down.

It’s the first of many times that night Alhaitham calms you with his objectiveness. You don’t have to know that his heart was pounding the entire time, unsure if he’d finally gone insane from years of working in the field.

He leaves, promising to inform you about work the next day after you’ve gathered yourself together, and when you arrive at the meeting point Alhaitham almost forgets you weren’t human—dressed in your usual way, smiling like you always would, though with a nervous edge to your tone.

Everyone had their secrets. He wouldn’t benefit much from exposing yours right now—Alhaitham helps you with avoiding water, covering for you by volunteering himself at times. He insists it’s not from a sense of heroism but rather convenience for himself (having drama over your secret being exposed would only interrupt the case)—but how far can he stretch this excuse in terms of keeping an eye on your health, asking if you’re feeling well when the summer’s heat is blazing, and running to your rescue when the investigation’s been turned on its head?

Alhaitham was a resourceful man, but some things (or people) couldn’t simply be replaced by another so easily. He’d protect your identity and wishes and help you reach a happy end, so that you both might coexist like you've grown to desire.

…What a curious predicament he’s landed himself with indeed.

A familiar story...

Kaveh’s a merman that’s well-liked and recognized within his home in the sea. His feats in architecture are renowned, but it comes from a sort of fascination and appreciation for beauty—after all, why else would he seek to build better structures and strive for wonderful things?

And for a creative and genius mind like his, it’s not a stretch to say that Kaveh’s interest extended to the machines of the human world. During shipwrecks and other storms, items would wash into the sea and be scavenged by certain… opportunists, who would supply to merchants that would then mark up the prices for customers like Kaveh, who saw the good in too many things and had enough empathy to pay for more.

—Nevermind his sometimes empty pockets, but Kaveh also liked venturing out to find items by himself on occasion (times where he needed a break from the bustle of the underwater city, just to soak in the sunlight and sky for himself, and being brought to wonder what else was out there in the world above).

Kaveh would be lying if he said he never considered going to the surface, but the temptation only reaches its tipping point when he sees you for the first time at the beach—he’s seen many humans, but not so many that would ramble to their dog while pacing around the beach, throwing sticks for it and then settling down to sketch the scenery. It’s so… picturesque, of a situation, that Kaveh couldn’t help but stick around longer and enjoy the quietness with you. 

And after you'd left, the sound of jewelry tinkling still lingers in his mind—you were wearing accessories with the most charming gems and color. It’s a shame they don’t have that material on-hand in the ocean—though wearing jewelry in the water itself wasn’t that practical to begin with.

So of course one day, after a particularly tiring series of events, Kaveh travels onto land for the first time and explores; there are foods he hasn’t seen before in the marketplace and Kaveh buys a cloak to help blend in (yes, he borrowed surface-currency from Alhaitham, though he anguishes at the idea that he has to rely on that guy for this), and when Kaveh gets distracted while looking at a jewelry stall’s offerings, he startles at the sound of a voice he’s only heard from afar.

You offer Kaveh a smile as you ask if he’s looking for something—and within his confusion Kaveh blurts out that he quite likes the earrings you’re wearing, so you smile and invite him to the store where you got them. He’s surprised to learn it’s a pawn shop, but the mere idea that you frequent there makes him feel a little more comfortable; perhaps the both of you were scavengers in your own right, looking for something you haven’t quite found yet.

He doesn’t buy anything, but ends up being gifted with a hair accessory by you—because his hair seems like it could use with pinning up, from how he’s been fidgeting with the ends (hair floats in the water, it does not do the same on land)—and Kaveh flusters even more when you mention it’s on the house (you own this place?!) and that it matches the color of his eyes anyways, so he should keep it. 

Suffice to say, Kaveh becomes a regular visitor to the human world after that, forging a type of second-home in the visits to the markets and bringing trinkets he’s found at sea to you. You’re not the main owner of the pawn shop, but your senior is very knowledgeable about the items he’s brought in, even paying a high price for them. It’s all going well until a storm hits your seaside town during an event out at sea—and Kaveh, who had made an excuse to not attend the ship party—rushes to your rescue when you’re the one that falls off the deck—returning you to shore the next morning.

It’s a journey of worries, anxieties and doubts from there on; if you recalled your mysterious savior, Kaveh laments at the idea of you falling for a version of him he has to keep a secret. If you knew it was him, could he still visit the shore so casually again?

Despite everything, Kaveh still has the sense to prioritize the safety of himself and his people. Thus begs the question; did he have the courage to place his trust in you?

Fish in a pool, and a curious fox

It’s not common to find merpeople living in smaller bodies of water, far from the rest of the ocean, but there are exceptions in the town where you and Tighnari lived—where certain species different from humankind created a little haven of their own to coexist and thrive, adorned in nature and springs that one wouldn’t find elsewhere.

What would your friends from university say; you were living ‘cottagecore’ lives?

The first time you met Tighnari, it’d been as kids who wandered away from home. Not to say the town was that big, but there was a little intersecting river between the merfolk and land-habitants, where you swam toward out of curiosity one day, following a stray butterfly. It almost seemed to land on the surface of the water, fluttering before perching still - thus when you carefully tried to resurface from right below it, you hadn’t expected to touch noses with a stranger who sported fox ears and a tail.

Being children, the both of you lacked the initial embarrassment that most people might have in response—instead you simply backed away in surprise, asking for the stranger's name.

There was a short reprieve in which you both spotted the butterfly again—which was flying away in a direction further onto land—but before Tighnari could tell you where it was heading toward, you were both interrupted by the calls of your families to return home.

The next time you met, Tighnari is quick to mention the thought that’d been hanging on his mind—he tried to invite you to the meadow to find butterflies (for you seemed fond of them), before belatedly realizing you couldn’t tread on land. His ears drooping slightly, you quickly told him that maybe one day you could, once you’d mastered how to shift your tails into legs when you were older.

Growing up in your town was a picturesque childhood indeed. The day you first tried walking on legs, you’d been clumsy and needed a hand from your family, who were watching over you that day. Eventually you’re able to run and jump and explore on your own, to which you find yourself attracted to a field of flowers. You haven’t seen so many up close before, and was surprised when a pair of ears peeked out from within them; Tighnari, who was watching ladybugs climbing their stems. 

That’s when your friendship properly blossomed, you supposed. As you were both interested in exploring, you and Tighnari would often go on trips together in your free time. You even brought him to the reefs once, teaching him to hold his breath just long enough to witness the beauty that lay underwater.

When you grew older, you learned that reading as many books as you had—absorbing knowledge—would come in handier than you thought. Tighnari is the first to leave the town to study in the city, a similar path his other family members took—and after a year of your own preparation, it was your turn to venture out to the Akademiya, where you heard Tighnari was.

You were independent in your own right, but becoming close friends with him (and maybe harboring a tiny crush) meant you wanted to at least be in the same city if possible. As luck permitted, you succeeded, and met Cyno during your first day when you’d become lost searching for your classes.

You’re surprised to learn later on that Tighnari has spoken of you before—enough for Cyno to ask if you knew of Tighnari based on your description of your home.

“He’d always talk about how beautiful the scenery was there, and exploring it with a childhood friend.” 

Figures that when you find Tighnari in person, you wouldn’t be any the wiser about his fondness for you in how he acts—or perhaps you’d become so used to his gestures that it’s now hard to tell. But to those that have met him since he’s been at the Akademiya, there is a clear smile in Tighnari’s eyes when he’s talking to you, and a sense of comfort that they haven’t seen from him anywhere else.

Involved in an underwater crime mystery… Mermaids are real?!

CW: missing persons mystery, reader gets kidnapped by a sea creature/villain (they’re fine though!)

Despite Cyno’s suspicions the first time he met you, you truly were just a wandering journalist that got into a lot of trouble; there’s been cases of people going missing near the seaside lately, thus when you ventured to the scene of the crime in hopes of getting some interviews, you end up getting caught by a mysterious sea creature and brought to the bottom of the ocean—at least, that’s how your story might’ve ended, if Cyno hadn’t spotted your kidnapping and intercepted it before it was too late.

The mysterious creature that took you was shrouded in shadow—some type of cloaking magic to hide its real form, but it had left a marked symbol on you from where it was gripping your leg to pull you under; unsure of what side-effects you may experience, Cyno had brought you to Tighnari first to get rid of any traces of magic before returning you to shore, only to realize that you were somehow breathing underwater, without the use of a spell on his part.

When you wake up, you’re understandably confused and perplexed. Unless you were hallucinating this entire thing, you’re now in an underwater city after being found by Cyno, a high-ranking merman guard, who had rescued you from the same creature that was probably behind the other missing persons cases.

Cyno places a hand on your shoulder in a gesture of comfort when he noticed your hands trembling, but your mind was reeling from the information (and sensory) overload.

One thing was clear: You weren’t going back to the surface until this mark was taken off you (which according to Tighnari, could only fade over time or be removed by the caster of the spell).

You had two options: stay here as a patient and wait things out, or join Cyno on his investigations. You weren’t particularly weak to pretty faces so as to risk your life for them, but the resolve that burned in Cyno’s gaze when he spoke of tracking them down helped steel your mind; you weren’t sure if you could hold on to this hope for long while stranded here alone, but perhaps you could be of some use to him with your intel from the surface, and maybe this decision would end with you having less regrets, for at least being moved to action within this crisis and confusion.

Your job was to document the truth, after all. You want to bear witness to this—to help put an end to the crime and mystery that has engulfed both your community and his.

You’re introduced to Cyno’s world and witness his dedication to protecting the underwater city of Sumeru. You hear stories from Tighnari, during your breaks, about how Cyno used to act back in their Akademiya days. It’s hard to imagine that Cyno could be invested in card games and stories of ancient magic when he was off-duty, but you honestly found the idea of it cute.

Perhaps when this whole ordeal was over, you could ask him to teach you about TCG. You get a glimpse of this other side of Cyno during one night when you’re camping out during an investigation outside the city, and he shows you a bit of elemental magic when you ask if he’s capable of such things too.

Admittedly, Cyno is more combat-oriented these days, but he tells you that he’s always liked the sound of adventures and playing a role different from what he’s used to. You think to yourself that out here, with this demonstration of magic that’s like stealing the stars from the night sky to a mortal like yourself, that he could be anything he wanted to be and you’d still follow him to the ends of the ocean.

But when all was said and done, where would your friendship go? It’s a little selfish, but a part of you is starting to wish that this adventure would never end.

Befriending a bad-mannered mermaid… Have we met before?

CW: Reader has trouble sleeping/insomnia. Mentions of drowning but it’s just a quip from Wanderer, not described or actually happening to anyone here. Uh… just him being mean but it's not from a malicious place. Reader technically presumed dead (?) — it’s a little complicated but I swear it makes sense once you read, it’s not angsty don't worry!

To start things off anticlimactically, you met Wanderer one day when you were walking by the shore at dawn, having had another restless night. With your eyelids finally growing heavy as you leaned against a boulder on the sand, you found yourself drifting to sleep…

…Only to be rudely interrupted by a pebble thrown your way, just narrowly missing your leg.

While Wanderer would simply say it’s because you were interrupting his alone time (who does he think he is, talking as if he owned the beach anyways?!) It was really just a matter of safety. He continues to quip at you, making comments about how you clearly lacked self-preservation if you thought sleeping there was fine, and to not complain that he was a quiet bystander when you get dragged out by the current and drown.

You’re obviously confused and indignant at the same time—not to mention he’d just left immediately after that. But hours later you realize he was talking to you really casually. The next time you encounter him and ask as such, Wanderer simply says that all humans were the same, though some were obviously not a threat to him—like you. 

You had half a mind to throw something back at him, only to be interrupted when Wanderer suddenly asked for your name. He’s uncharacteristically silent after hearing it, before telling you his own and disappearing again.

When you couldn’t sleep, you’d go to the beach these days in order to let the sunlight lull you to sleepiness, or—if that didn’t work—you’d draw Wanderer’s name into the sand to be washed away by the waves again and again. You’re not sure who told you this, but there was a saying that whatever message was washed away by the sea would be delivered to recipients in the water. When Wanderer finds you that afternoon, he’s quick to call the belief idiotic—only for you to argue that he did show up anyways.

Perhaps it’s because of how unabashedly proud he acts, but you find yourself responding to Wanderer in a familiar manner as well. You’re not afraid to retort against his remarks, and over time you become friends, though he would hate to admit it so plainly.

…To start things off from a different point of view, your friendship had actually started long before you started having issues with sleep, and perhaps even before you started to live your life on land.

Long ago, Wanderer had a friend who painstakingly wore down his barriers and adopted him as a companion. That is, in the same way a cat and owner relationship might work—though he had no clue what exactly a cat was, for his friend was the only one between them to have ventured far enough into the human world to meet one.

Wanderer didn’t care much about humans, but his friend (who was a merperson), quite liked their creations and stories. They’d always found it amusing to see humans board their cruise ships and pollute the air with their noise, while Wanderer would constantly remind them to not get too caught up in human-watching. What was so great about those land-dwellers anyways?

After a series of events, said friend had gone missing and was presumed dead. So how many thoughts flurried through Wanderer’s mind on the day he saw you at the beach as if to taunt him? How betrayed and confused and annoyed had he felt after rationalizing things in his mind; that if you were a reincarnation of his friend, that you wouldn’t remember anything. That if you were his friend yourself, who’d turned out to have lived, you’d have your reasons for never attempting contact. And if it was neither of those, you were just a look-alike and fate had a really crappy sense of humor for making him stumble upon you like so.

He’d started venturing closer to the surface ever since his friend’s disappearance—partially as a way to get away from the city and the well-meaning but overbearing attempts to comfort him, and also as a little way to feel connected to them again.

Wanderer doubts he’d ever love humans the same way they did, but he’s at least able to appreciate the softness of the morning when the sun filters through the surface just right.

To summarize, yes - you are that friend, though whether you’d been reincarnated after an incident or simply had your memories erased eludes the both of you. The story starts here, and has much to explore henceforth; as much as Wanderer liked to complain, he was quite relieved to be able to adventure with you again. The more time he spends with you, the more he’s convinced that maybe second chances do come true.