#eyes drifting across the sand — flickering to the sea. looking for something. or maybe another someone?

[valeress]

ramble

[nixies-creations]

For @onemuseleft, Who won one of my @marveltrumpshate Auctions. This the second of eight aesthetics, I’ll be making for Muse, for MTH 2020!

Steve Rogers x Tony Stark - Mermaid AU. 

On Ao3. 

Steve smiles as he watches Tony as he sheds the button up he’d stolen from Steve months back and his linen pants before walking gingerly into the ocean naked. As he watches, he drops both pairs of flip flops he’d been holding as he and Tony had been strolling along the beach, waiting for the sun to set, and moves to drop down himself as he waits for his love to return to him.

His eyes stay on Tony, till he’s nearly waist deep before there was a bright flash of nearly electric blue light surrounding him. It’s so bright Steve can’t help blinking, head tilting away for just a second before he looks back in time to see Tony jumping head first into the water, his red tail swishing back and forth before suddenly he’s beneath the water.

Settling back, he moves to rest back against his palms as he bends his legs, digging his toes into the sand and settles in for a long wait. He hums softly, taking a deep breath of the salty sea air and lets his eyes flutter close.

“You should have brought your book, sweetheart.”

Startling, Steve opens his eyes to see Tony bobbing in the water, only about twenty, maybe thirty, feet out from him. “Why?” he calls back, face soft and open, as he smiles. He can barely make out Tony make a face before it settles into something fond, he thinks. “I’ll be fine, doll, don’t worry about me. You enjoy your swim, yeah?”

“If you’re sure,” Tony calls softly. He stays there for another moment longer before giving Steve a little wave with his left hand — the metallic of his band giving a little glint from it’s bright shine in the dying sunlight — and ducks down once again beneath the calm sea.

Settling back into the peacefulness of the little beach they come to when in California, Steve lets himself breath in the air once again, letting it out slowly after a moment and lets the calmness of the ocean let him again find the moment of serenity he’d been in the process of letting take over once again.

He’s not sure exactly how long he sits there, letting himself drift in the serenity of the moment stretched out, but he does know as he comes up, back to himself, that it’s clearly been some time. Chuckling quietly at himself, he blinks once, then again, as his eyes adjust to the darkness of night, of the moon’s light shimmering across the stillness of the water.

Shifting Steve adjusts, letting out a quiet groan as something in his back pops. Reaching around he rubs at his lower back before he pushes himself up. Stretching, he looks around to see Tony’s clothes, and both pairs of their shoes still sitting next to him, before moving his gaze back out to the ocean, flickering it around rapidly before spotting a body cutting through the water quickly towards him.

He waits till Tony’s not far out from where he stands at the waters edge — the coolness of the water lapping at his feet — before he calls out to him, “Good swim?” A grin spreads across Steve’s face as he catches a flash of blue beneath the waves as Tony comes striding out of the water naked.

“Amazing,” he says warmly, only shivering slightly as the cool breeze seems to hit his wet body.

Bending down, Steve snatches up the button up, pulling it open to slip around Tony’s shoulders. It wouldn’t do much for him — even with how his body seemed to run at a normally higher temp than a regular human did — it would still help slightly until they could get back to their beach house.

“I haven’t had a swim like that in too long,” Tony murmurs, letting Steve shift his body this way and that as he helps him redress, so he wouldn’t be making the trek back completely naked and risk one of their possible neighbors from seeing him.

“I’m glad,” Steve says before moving to drop a quick kiss to Tony’s forehead. “But come on, let's get back and dry off. No sense in us risking you catching a cold, even if it’s harder for you to get sick.” He bends to grab at their flip flops in one hand, before sliding his other arm around Tony’s shoulders.

Laughing warmly, Tony nodded, leaning into Steve’s bulk, “Mother hen,” he teases gently as they start making their way back down the beach to where they’d come from.

[thewheezingwyvern]

OOO OOO PICK ME PICK ME!

I would like Bakugou or Kirishima please 🥺

Imma pick number 13 for inspo unless that's been done already. SFW or NSFW whatever you want I'm just excited to read 👀 can you take my Katsukikitten blog when/if you answer this?

🖤 Katsukikitten

Ooooh @katsukikitten you gave me some good wiggle room to work with. I ended up going SFW because I had an idea! Hopefully this helps fill your Bakugou needs!

𝘈𝘱𝘰𝘭𝘭𝘰'𝘴 𝘊𝘶𝘳𝘴𝘦

Oracle!Bakugou x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Angst, Mention of blood and death

It was midday by the time you and Bakugou reached your destination. Rather, you reached where your partner had intended to take you and until that moment you had no idea what place it was he had in mind. Turns out, it was an old canyon that speared through the vast expanse of the Aural Desert. Sweat was pouring from your skin and Katsuki was no better, having shed his shirt during the travel some time ago. The horse you two had taken, a northern dunn that was bred to travel in the desert, nickered softly in approval once shade eclipsed over you. It was still blazingly hot but the further you strayed into the craggy paths tucked away from the sun’s glare, the cooler it grew. The change in temperature was a blessing, small on paper but large in practice.

“Keep up.” He snapped back at you over his shoulder.

A frown twisted across your lips, brows furrowing. Katsuki was not known for his calm nature but he had been far more irritable and snappish in the past few weeks. And not once had he even given you a hint of answers until today. It was slow work picking through the canyon, razor ferns creeping through cracks in the rocky walls that threatened to slice your flesh if either of you brushed against their leaves. Your mouth was incredibly dry and you wished you had the proper gloves so you could pluck those leaves off their stems and cut them open. When carefully handled, razor fern leaves stored a lot of water and could help slake your thirst.

“Where are we going Katsuki?” you asked for the fifth time that day.

“If you ask me one more time, I’m going to leave you behind, brat.” He snapped back at you, “Now shut up and follow me.”

Crestfallen at another question unanswered, you followed with a scowl. Katsuki had come and found you just before you joined your father in his tent with his retainers. Your absence would surely be noticed so you felt that you were owed at least something of an explanation. But your friend, crush and body guard was impossibly stubborn and you knew you would sooner have luck asking a mountain to move for you than get him to change his mind. Bakugou, however, was going out of his mind himself. As your bodyguard , appointed by the chief himself, he knew it was risky to bring you into the desert. A calloused hand touched the hilt of his curved scimitar sheathed at his hip. If anyone or anything tried to touch you, he’d make them regret it.

“We’re here.” He finally said.

‘Here’ was a rocky alcove, the wall of the canyon stretching up to blot out the light of the sun. Buried in the wall were long bands of vibrant color, smoky purples, vivacious reds, shimmering golds and streaks of laughing teals that were like the captured spirit of the seas so far away. It was a stunning alcove. And the cliff was clearly formed of the rocks and clay that your people used to craft their paints and makeups for use. But it was still just a wall and you couldn’t figure out why Katsuki would want to bring you to it. You folded your arms beneath your breasts, looking around once before turning back to your protector.

“It’s a wall.”

“Heh, shows what you know.” He sneered.

The blonde advanced forward to a large stone slab that was settled up against the wall. It didn’t look any different than the other rocks in the area. That is until he started sliding the rock to the side, fine granules of sand on the ground helping fill the air with a crunching sound. When he was finished, he revealed a tunnel that was worn into the side of the canyon. Katsuki smirked smugly at you before gesturing towards the opening of the hidden cave.

“After you, princess.”

When you glared at him as you walked by, he closed in behind you snickering. The light from outside streamed in enough to illuminate your first several steps into the cave. But just around the bend there was a distant light as well, it pooled on the walls and beckoned you forward. You’d never seen a glow like that and it was entrancing, urging you forward without being nudged by your companion. The passage snaked deeper into the rock, bands of the same color following you along until the both of you emerged into a chamber. Above in the ceiling, a small hole allowed a beam of sunlight to stream through until it gathered on a large pool of water that was nestled in the center of the chamber. At first you thought the water was glowing because of the single ray of sunshine that struck the calm surface of the pool but closer inspection revealed that wasn’t the case. Mesmerized, you feet carried you forward without your permission to see that this was more than a simple pool. There was a sharp drop cut into earth, almost like a sink hole that led deep into the ground. The water glowed in a myriad of icy blue, deepened violet and fractals of starlight.

“What is this place?” you whispered softly, your voice echoing off the walls.

“This is a sacred pool.” Katsuki supplied, falling beside you, “This is where oracles like me used to go to magnify their foresight. They used to be everywhere but they’ve been drying up more and more as the years pass.”

“I thought those were a myth.”

“They’re real…”

A far off, haunted expression flickered over his face, leading you to touch his arm, “Katsuki…what did you see?”

His foresight had proven invaluable for your clan and he was almost never wrong. But never before had you seen him look so tortured. Silence fell over you both for several moments before he started to walk forward. Even with his back to you, the pool bathed him in an ethereal light, shadows gathering along the contours of his back. Bakugou turned his head and looked over his shoulder at you.

“It’ll be easier to just show you. Come here.”

Tentatively you drew closer to him until you both were standing at the edge of the sacred pool. It swirled before you, begging for you to enter it’s depths and see the it’s wonders. But it was really, really deep and it was hard not to feel nervous. Bakugou seemed to notice your hesitation and snorted with disdain.

“You really think I would have you do something dangerous, brat? I’m supposed to protect you.”

“Well there was that one time-”

“That was your idea, dumbass, not mine.”

You giggled, “It worked out didn’t it?”

Katsuki let the corner of his mouth twitch before he turned to face you. Suddenly you were aware of how close he was to you and how he still wasn’t wearing a shirt. The tanned plains of his chest begged for your hands to touch and wander but the serious expression in face made that thought evaporate. A rough hand came up and clapped you on the top of your head gently, shaking you a bit in a display of affection.

“Trust me, princess…”

“…Ok.”

Bakugou pulled you to him and the both of you leapt into the pool. The initial contact was like normal water, refreshingly cool and it chased away the heat that had built up in you from the desert sun. But soon the feeling evaporated and it was like the two of you were floating in the night sky. With surprise you found yourself able to breathe and you drifted with Katsuki, sinking deeper down into the embrace of the sacred waters. Flecks of fiery red flaked off of your companion, swirling around the two of you until they shattered into fractals to form intricate images. Images of fire and blood. Thick plumes of smoke were rising from the the caravan of tents that your clan made their homes in, blotting out the sky in inky clouds. A flash and you saw your father with a sword hilted into his chest and the culprit was one of his own retainers.

The pool shifted colors then to golden yellow, showing Bakugou trying to warn your father. It showed him being ignored, dismissed that his vision was incorrect and that he just didn’t know what he was seeing. Your body guard hauled you against him, your back pressed up against his chest as he cradled you close. His arms squeezed you tightly, as if he were afraid you would drift away from him if he let go. The fractals of light continued to swirl, shifting to paint out your future, each more grim than the last if you stayed to fight. A thousand and one ways you could try to save your clan and a thousand and one ways you would fail.

“There is no hope for them…” he whispered out hoarsely, “But there is for you…runaway with me.”

“But…but maybe with me there my father will-”

“I’ve already tried to warn him. And I’ve already tried to see that way too. He won’t listen.” Katsuki buried his face into your shoulder, his arms squeezing you even tighter to him, “If you don’t leave…your death is the nicest fate out of all of them.”

“Is there really no other way?”

“No…No there isn’t.” Was he crying? “I’m supposed to protect you but even I can’t stand against an entire fucking army. Princes…please. Runaway with me.”

“But-”

“I can’t save them,” he interrupted, “but dammit I can save you. Don’t be stupid.”

Tears were flowing from your eyes as you felt reality crash down around your ears. Live with your clan wandering the sands was over no matter what choice you made. But the thought of leaving behind your family without even trying left a bitter taste in your mouth. But there was really no way out. And that was how you decided to leave your life and clan behind: bathed in starlight and sinking into a never ending pit.

((Want to participate in Arcane April? Check out my post here about the event and send in your requests!))

[chaseatinydream]

pirate king (26) || atz

You drift in and out of consciousness.

Dreams flash through your mind, juxtaposed with reality and hallucinations. You can no longer tell what is true or not, simply choosing to accept them all as you continue falling endlessly into nothingness.

You sit on a rock in a small cove. Men and women clamour around you in the water, tails flickering in beautiful jewel tones as they eagerly offer you all sorts of precious gifts, mother of pearl, a beautiful bouquet of colourful anemone, a silvered shell. You laugh and accept them, your tail shimmering with silver scales under the sun.

You feel a hand holding yours, cool metal brushing your soft skin. A pair of lips, soft and warm, brushes against your temple.

“Wake up soon, alright?”

Storms rage all around you. The sea heaves with massive, turbulent waves, the water grey with froth and lightning flashes. You scream with rage, despair, absolute loneliness and the seas respond, swirling around you as if they’re alive with fury.

There’s someone next to you. He’s reading to you in a chair at your bedside, a book about essential oils distilled from natural plants.

“And the clary sage oil is colourless, with a nutty smell. People say its effects feel euphoric, you know, do you think it’s true?”

You’re at the beach of a small island, sitting in the sand. The blue sea stretches on for miles, not another ship in sight. A young boy smiles and asks for your name. You don’t have one, but you tell him what you are. He can’t repeat the word to you with his tongue.

“Please, be okay. Don’t go without letting me thank you.” Someone sobs, wetness soaking into your shoulder. Another person reassures him quietly, his voice a little more gruff and rough around the edges, but still soft.

A man with green hair, San, you think his name with, dances around the ship wearing nothing but two starfish and a skirt of seaweed.

Okay, that’s definitely just a nightmare.

Someone’s singing. His voice is beautiful, striking high notes with ease and pulling you into the melody of the song. The notes wrap around you like a lullaby.

You’re in a prison cell, the place dank and dirty. In your hands, you hold the cut crystal, running your fingers along the words inscribed into it until you find the catch that separates the chain from the gem. The crystal reveals itself to be a tiny vial, containing a mixture inside that sparkles like liquid diamonds. You close your eyes one last time, remembering the little boy’s face, and swallow the contents whole.

“Please wake up.” Someone whispers to you. He holds your hands against his forehead as he pleads with you, and your fingers brush cloth. “Please, Chin Hae, wake up.”

Chin Hae.

Is that your name?

No, it’s not. I don’t have a name. But I am ****.

Chin Hae?

Hurry and wake up, Ch*n H**.

Why are you calling me that? My name isn’t C*** H**.

Hurry up, hurry up, ****.

Your eyes fly open.

You’re in a bed, staring at the ceiling. For a moment, you stay like that, suddenly uncomprehending of who you are or what you are. Every limb feels heavy, as if you haven’t moved them in months, and when you finally muster the strength to turn your head sideways, there’s a head of green hair there.

You scream.

“Wassgoingon?” The head of green hair mumbles, lifting his head to look for the source of the commotion. His eyes are bleary, tired, until they meet yours, then he freezes in shock.

The two of you stare at each other for a moment.

A word forms on your lips instinctively. “M…” Your voice is rough and scratchy from disuse. “Master?”

The man continues staring at you in shock for another few seconds. Then his eyes widen and he finally lets out a massive scream.

“What’s going on?” A young man with dark hair bursts into the room with a club over his shoulder, looking around for the source of the green haired man’s discomfort. When his eyes fall on you, they widen almost comically.

The club drops to the ground.

“Jongho-hyung?” You ask, and suddenly memories come flooding back to you, sitting in the square with a cream puff in front of you, entering a fortune teller’s booth together. The maknae simply keeps staring at you, before he finally reaches forward to pinch your cheeks.

“Ow!” You shout in pain and bat his hand away, but it’s like trying to move a ship by blowing at its sails. “That hurts!”

His hand falls limply to the side, mouth hanging open in shock. “I’m not dreaming.” He turns to San, who still hasn’t moved from his seat, jaw dragging along the floor. “You’re not dreaming.”

San nods confirmation, just as shocked. You frown. Did you turn into a ghost or something?

Then Jongho tears out of the sickbay before you can ask his what the commotion is, and you can hear him screaming outside. “Everyone! Chin Hae is awake!”

You blink owlishly at them in confusion. Honestly, you just woke up. There’s nothing special about it.

San catches you in a crushing hug, so tight you can feel every rib creaking, but you simply put your arms around him. You’re stunned for a moment, but raise a hand to stroke his back to comfort him.

You feel him sob against you.

“Thank you. Thank you for being alive.” He wails into your sleeve, and your shoulder is damp with his tears. You can barely bring yourself to ask him why he’s crying, confused to as why everyone seems to be overly excited about you waking up. Then it comes back to you.

The whipping.

Captain.

Betrayal.

Wooyoung.

The gunshots.

Blood.

Yeosang.

You force yourself into a sitting position as fast as you can, glancing around the room desperately. It’s empty, except for you. Your heart sinks.

Yeosang isn’t there.

“What happened to Yeosang-hyung?” You demand, turning to your master. “Oh god, is he dead? Did I fail? Did he-”

San opens his mouth to reply, but he’s cut off from answering you when someone bursts in through the door of the sickbay, panting hard and hunched over on his knees. When he finally does catch his breath, he looks up, and then he sees you.

It’s Yeosang.

It’s Yeosang, still looking a little pale and ashen and weak. It’s Yeosang, who looks like he hasn’t slept in days. But it’s Yeosang, who’s blessedly and wonderfully alive, and that’s all the matters to you.

“Yeosang-hyung-”

He takes three steps to cross the room and wraps his arms around you, delicately and gently, as if he’s afraid you might dissolve into nothingness if he touches you too hard. San moves away so Yeosang can take his place, and the navigator stares at you in wonderment. You turn a little red in embarrassment.

“You’re alive.” He says, still stunned. You nod in reply, a sheepish smile on your face.

“Yeah.”

“You’re not a ghost.”

“Mmhmm.”

“I’m not dreaming?”

The way he says the last question, as if he’s so sure that you’re nothing but a figment of his imagination, how he doesn’t dare to trust what he sees in case it’s all a lie breaks your heart. You grip his hand earnestly, warm blood flowing under yours.

“You’re not.”

Then Yeosang is cradling you to him tightly, silent tears running down his cheeks. “Don’t ever do that again, you dumbass.”

A laugh pulls at your lips. Yeosang is swearing, and maybe that’s a bigger miracle than you actually coming back.

“I won’t if you don’t save me the next time.”

Yeosang pulls away from you a little, just to look at you, sniffing as he wipes his eyes with the hem of his sleeve. “I can’t do that.”

“We’ll have a rotation.” You tell him, as you help him dab dry the tears, an amused smile on your face. “I’ll sacrifice myself for you on Mondays, Wednesdays, Fridays and weekends. You can have the others.”

Yeosang hiccups a little through his smile and tears. “No fair, you get so many more days than I do…”

The two of you sit in silence, both of you having gone through the same trial together has forged a bond between the two of you no one else has. Yeosang is smiling so brightly, like a small sun, and you can’t help but laugh at how happy he looks.

Then San clears his throat. “Yeosangie, she needs to change.”

Yeosang glances down at you, only to realise that you’re wearing a thin white shirt over your bindings and nothing else. His face turns cherry red and he leaps away from you, scrambling to avert his eyes with his hands and immediately knocks his nose into the door frame.

“I’ll be going now!” He squeaks, and you laugh at how sweet he is. He glances back at you one last time, shyly peeking through his fingers as a real, genuine smile blooms across his face. “I’m really, really happy, Chin Hae.”

Your breath catches in your throat.

“I know.”

With one last smile, the navigator exits the room, leaving you and San in silence.

Your master stares at you for a long moment. Then he opens his mouth to speak.

“That should have killed you.”

You had known that the moment you’d started the link between you and him. What you were intending to do, what you were trying to get back, and the price you’d have to pay. You had known all of this, and you’d still gone ahead with it anyway.

“I know.”

He fixes you with a stern look, as if you’ve just made a mistake in your healing theory or you’ve done a bandage wrong. “That was the stupidest thing I’ve seen anyone do, and I live with Wooyoung and Yunho.”

A snort forces its way out of your mouth.

“But you did it anyway, and you’re still here.” San smiles gently, his strict facade cracking. He looks so relieved, as if he’s been carrying this weight on his shoulders ever since you attempted the healing. Then something strikes you.

“How long have I been out?”

“About a week or so.” Your master replies as he places a bundle of clothes on the bed. Your eyes fly open in shock. Exactly how close did you come to completely draining yourself that day?

Your master jabs a finger at you.

“I should expel you as my student.” Fear wells up in you for a moment at the thought, but then he shakes his head and smiles. “Get dressed, apprentice.”

With that, he leaves the room.

You change your clothes slowly, your muscles sore and limbs stiff. As you take off your shirt, your fingers brush the silver chain of your necklace.

The words inscribed on it leave your lips.

“I will be with you every step of the way.”

Suddenly, excitement wells in you as you fumble with the necklace, brushing your fingers across the silver, trying to find the hidden clasp. And as though it knows you are looking for it, you find it faster than you thought you would, and there’s a small clicking sound.

The tiny crystal vial falls to the bed.

I want a name, you hear a voice whisper around you, carried on the wind as it swirls around you and fades.

Your mouth falls open.

Because the voice was yours.

[llamagoddessofficial]

Happy belated birthday @aka-indulgence​! I initially intended to get this out two days ago but I lost the flow a little. Luckily, it came back... hope you had a good day!

Nightmare!Sans/Reader

... It was so quiet. Dark... but you could hear something. It sounded like...

...

... Waves. Gentle ocean waves.

Something warm washed over your toes, and it made you open your eyes in surprise, looking down at your feet- water. Crystal clear water, streaming over perfect white sand... bubbles of foam popping in sparkles of light. 

You looked up, confused... and found yourself looking out onto a gorgeous sea under a clear glowing lavender and orange sunset sky. You gasped, quietly, without even realising- it was so beautiful. The ocean, mild and clean, faded from sandy yellow where you were standing to green to a brilliant turquoise, and the deeper waters were a warm pink as they reflected the sky that seemed to stretch for infinity... your lips parted, awe overtaking everything. You could see little silhouettes of seabirds wheeling in the distance... Directly above you, where the sky was lilac and purples and deep blues, a few lone faint stars were beginning to make themselves known.

... It was so beautiful. 

You inhaled through your nose and sighed, happily; fresh, salty sea air. The sound of calling gulls and water... the glow of the sunset on your skin, the lapping ocean at your feet... you closed your eyes, happy, calm...

You could just stay here forever... you should stay here forever...

...

Something was wrong.

You opened your eyes again, confused, turning around to look behind you. Some trees, tropical-looking, palms... nothing out of the ordinary. But why did you feel... wrong? It wasn’t a feeling you could put your finger on. Something was off. You stepped away from the water’s edge and began to walk up the beach, the sand pleasantly warm and soft underfoot, not loose enough to stick between your toes and not clumpy enough to feel damp and gross...

...

Something was wrong.

You had a terrible feeling in your chest, your eyes kept darting around to look at the scenery as if expecting to catch something. You couldn’t stop here, your heart was pounding- like something was out there, something awful would happen if you gave in here and rested. Maybe you were just being stupid... maybe you were just panicking... something’s wrong, something’s wrong-

... A noise.

... It was a sigh. A deep, breathy sigh; it sounded frustrated, but amused. And it wasn’t coming from behind you, or next to you, or in front of you... it was inside your head.

Someone else was inside your own mind- someone else was speaking to you, echoing in your head.

“every time.” It said, in a long-suffering tone. The voice was dark, silky... almost too soft. Like he was patronising you. “i’m getting tired of this, darling.”

... You froze.

Not willingly. Your feet sank into the sand the moment you stopped, and suddenly it was as hard as concrete- you let out a little frightened sound and tried to pull your legs, with no luck whatsoever. What the hell is going on!? You couldn’t think straight, your head was fuzzy, like someone had thrown a woollen blanket over your mind- over your ability to process what was going on. You were confused, nonplussed, things that should be making sense just weren’t connecting.

“nothing’s ever enough...” It whispered.

The landscape began to cycle, warp, stretch around where your feet were locked in place. You desperately wanted to stagger back... An empty roof restaurant overlooking a glowing city, you barely had a moment to appreciate it because after a second’s wait it changed again, a mirror-flat lake at sunrise speckled with pink petals from a flowering tree, giant misty emerald-topped mountains that seemed to defy the laws of physics, a waterfall as wide as the grand canyon that roared with power, your head was spinning, it hurt...

... It stopped on what seemed to be a salt flat after rain; a perfectly blue sky peppered with cotton candy clouds, everything reflected below you in the world’s largest mirror. Nobody around for miles.

“i can control this world down to each molecule.” The voice continued. It seemed almost gleeful... showing off, enjoying boasting about all he could do. “i can give you anything you want. i could take you anywhere, show you anything... there’s nothing we can’t do together, here.”

... You felt something on your stomach.

The scenery changed again; a flower field, at night. An endless galaxy overhead, purple and blue and pink blooms shifting in the gentlest of breezes.

But you couldn’t concentrate. The fear that had suddenly gripped you was icy; and it wasn’t just the fear that had a hold of you. Something wrapped around your middle, your waist, something thick and long, you looked down...

... You had no idea what it was. A tentacle of some kind? It was as if someone had coated the body of a giant snake in a viscous, gooey, tar-like substance. Thick, black, slimy, it was cold where it touched the skin that wasn’t covered by your riding-up shirt, so cold... you wanted to shove it off you but you didn’t want to touch it, you were scared you’d put your hands on it and they’d just sink straight in and stick.

“... i could give you anything...” The voice wasn’t inside your mind anymore. It was behind you, like it’d escaped from your head, whispering into your ear so close you could feel hot breath against the skin. Another thing, appendage, tentacle, curled around your neck; it was so cold you sharply inhaled, a harsh contrast from the warmth of his breath. And when you tried to reach your hands up to it to grasp at it, to pull it off in a blind panic, no longer caring about the consistency... more curled around your wrists, snatching them back and holding them tight by your shoulders.

“and yet...” ... It shifted from playfully teasing... to something else. Something... angry.

A growl. 

“you just keep on defying me.”

The tentacles around you squeezed- your neck, your stomach, your wrists- you cried out, but you weren’t sure whether it was in pain or in terror as a squeak-like sound was forced out of you when your breath escaped. You didn’t understand what was going on, you could barely focus on not losing yourself in pure, unadulterated terror.

“i could be doing anything right now.” He continued. The landscape started to change again; but not into something beautiful. The stars started to flicker out and die one by one, flowers began to brown and rot and wilt, sinking into the grassless slick dirt and triggering a foul smell that invaded your nostrils and made you cringe. The gentle breeze vanished, replaced with a thick, uncomfortable heat that only worsened the smell. 

“i could be destroying whole universes- amusing myself by making them all bend to my will...” He squeezed tighter, you were starting to struggle for breath, wheezing and tearing up, you could feel more wet slimy tentacles curling around you... your legs, over your hips, across your chest... he was going to choke you, squeeze you to death. “billions of lives begging for mercy at my feet.”

You expelled a precious breath in a weak sob.

...

... The tentacles loosened. But they didn’t let go. You gasped in air and gagged, the awful smell making your eyes water and stinging the back of your throat... You didn’t understand, nothing made sense, your mind felt fuzzy and confused and lost. As you sucked in breath after breath, you didn’t notice the smell fading... the air becoming clean again, the mud and rot fading away like...

... like a bad dream.

Instead, it was pitch black. The kind of darkness that pressed in on all sides, that made you somehow feel both hopelessly lonely and like something was watching you. 

He moved, the voice moved. In front of you, in the darkness... a ring appeared. A ring of blue light; cold light, unfeeling, unfriendly... a single eye, partnered with a smile of giant ice-white teeth.

“but instead of all that...” The face came closer. And as it did, you could see more... you could see the ooze-covered skeletal face, the slick black substance all over him, even his clothes... you could see the way the tentacles restraining you came from his back. He didn’t stop approaching until he was inches away from your face again... smile looming over you, close enough to kiss your forehead... cold, cold hands pressed against your ribs and slid around to your back. Like he was holding you. “instead of ruling universes, i’m here again. playing with you. making intricate worlds for an ungrateful little human who won’t just give in to me... every night, something new. every night, something beautiful. and every night, you resist...”

One icy hand stayed on your back, the other... drifted up, cupping your head, weaving his giant phalanges through your hair at the scalp. 

“it’s infuriating.”

You felt terror clench your chest again, harder than before. What was he going to do? Was he going to tear it out? Snap your neck, dig those slimy claws into the back of your head and kill you? You felt your lip trembling, your eyes welling up with hot tears...

He was so close to you, pressed so flush, that when he shuddered you felt it. His grin only spread wider, inhumanly wide, that bright blue eye contracting like a snake squeezing a kill...

“that’s right, pet...” He said, voice a purr that barely hid his glee, tentacles beginning to squeeze again like the claws of an excited cat. “that’s it, fear me... i could squeeze you until you snap, i could tear you into bloody ribbons...”

His hand tilted your head upward, toward the face that took up your whole vision. In a strange way, it was a good thing he was holding your legs... you were certain that your feet wouldn’t hold you up any longer.

Whatever patience was holding him back seemed to snap when you pressed your lips together- the moment his glowing eye moved to your mouth, it twitched, and he closed the precious distance you had from him. A predator striking, a monster moving to eat you whole...

... He kissed you.

...

You startled awake, heaving in breaths and slick with cold sweat, staring up at your ceiling while gripping your mattress with white knuckles.

...

Oh fuck...

The sigh you breathed in relief racked your entire body from head to toe. Shaking, close to tears... Like you were expelling the tainted, fearful air from your lungs.

Just a dream. Just a nightmare.

The tentacles were just your bedsheets twisted around you, as you’d turned in a panic. The cold and ice was just your bare, sweat-dotted skin meeting air... even as you laid there, bathing in your own relief, you began to forget the terrible dream.

Just a nightmare. Just a nightmare. Just a nightmare.

... You sorted out your sheets, turning your pillow over to the cold side to nestle back into it, calm once again. You still had a few hours before your alarm would set off... now the bad dream was out of the way, you’d surely sleep peacefully.

It didn’t take very long for you to drift back into unconsciousness.

...

...

The shadows by your bed started to thicken, gathering into a form sitting by you on the bed. He stroked your hair behind your ear... icy blue eye watching silently. Adoringly.

He... had planned to make that encounter a little bit... softer. He’d gone into your dreams intending to keep you calm, keep you open to influence; and then he’d make himself known to you gently, acclimating you to his presence in your mind. Maybe strike up some nice conversation... He had it all planned so neatly...

... But your fear was just so... delicious. Your terror when he held you, those wide, doe-like eyes staring up at him with you totally under his control, at his mercy... what was supposed to be one of the lighter encounters quickly spiralled as he lost himself in your skin and breath and warmth and life, feeding like a parasite on the negativity pouring out of your Soul.

... He sighed. He’d let you sleep, for tonight... he had to think of a new place to take you to. A new world to make for you... hopefully, this time, it would be enough to keep you under his spell.

“... sleep tight, doll.” He purred, leaning down to press a toothy kiss to your forehead... before his form melted into the shadows of your room, like a ghost.

[lluvguts]

Cool Blue ; Chapter Two

⤹⋆⸙͎۪۫｡˚۰˚☽˚⤹⋆⸙͎۪۫｡˚۰˚☽˚⤹⋆⸙͎۪۫｡˚

sunlight on your face

⤹⋆⸙͎۪۫｡˚۰˚☽˚⤹⋆⸙͎۪۫｡˚۰˚☽˚⤹⋆⸙͎۪۫｡˚

☽ warnings: none

☽ fic masterlist

⤹⋆⸙͎۪۫｡˚۰˚☽˚⤹⋆⸙͎۪۫｡˚۰˚☽˚⤹⋆⸙͎۪۫｡˚

The sun had crossed Luca's mind many times before, but he was just too afraid to see what it looked like. He'd asked his grandmother what the sun felt like once (or twice, or three times even, Luca had lost count). She would only give her grandson a gentle smile and stick out one hand so Luca's tail would brush along her forearm affectionately.

"That is something for you to find out one day," She winked. "But I'll tell you a little bit about it for now. Sometimes the sun is brilliant and warm on your scales...and other times, it'll burn you." She ended her sentence with another toothy grin and one hand to her breastbone to quiet her knowing laughter.

Luca gaped at her solemnity. "The sun...burns?" He couldn't possibly fathom the idea.

But the sun was so...bright! He imagined it was a big creamy ball in the sky, full of sugar the seeped into the Earth. And the more he mulled it over the harder it was to accept that maybe it wasn't as delightful as he'd dreamed.

"Sure, Bubble," His grandmother chuckled. "It's gotta keep the humans warm somehow, right?"

Luca thought about her answer then. That must be why Alberto smelled so honey-sweet. Nice, he corrected himself. Alberto smelled nice.

But it was the sun dripping all of that sunshine and ardor into Alberto's pores, through the tiny dark spots that spanned across his cheeks and shoulders. Little dashes of the sun. But if he thought over these things too long that fiery sunshine would melt his insides into a pitiful pool of need to see him again and Luca decided not to ask her anymore.

He was a good kid, after all. He didn't need these infectious ideas running through his head.

Luca passed by the herd of goatfish, all grumbling and surrounded in swarms of their own bubbles. He swam by Giuseppe, clearly the favored one, and gave him an endearing pat before glancing over his shoulder. It seemed as though his grandmother had distracted Luca's parents for the time being with some obscure task that he knew granted him a few hours of precious alone time.

He'd dreamed of seeing The Surface before. Herring, he'd actually tried. And once was all it took. A brief sequence of minutes that felt as if they were hours, fluttering toward the crystal glittering skin of the ocean above him, only to doubt his choices and duck back down. But the edges of his mind persisted, Luca the Curious Fish, the one to get caught.

And his mind continued to nag and nudge him toward the parts of the farm that were cooler, left a bite on his scales as he hurried to find that same spot as yesterday. His surroundings flooded again as he was flanked by the jutting sections of the island below the water and into a cave opening leading to the same pool as before.

Luca's eyes fluttered shut past this point. Though it was childish, he feared by whim that a chunk of ominous island rock were to come undone and shatter on top of him, leaving him squished flat in the sand like some scaly water anole scattering for purchase. Luca let the thought, much like his other more intrusive ones leave his head as the temperature lifted around him. His face welcomed the sunlight drifting from the pool above along his fins and closed eyelids.

In a recess of the rock Luca had hidden the purple wooden stick (with the feather-soft bristles that, once Alberto had left, Luca ran along his cheeks until his scales were an embarrassing blue) that Alberto had so kindly gifted him, wedged between the sharp spaces so it didn't float away. He smiled at it sitting there, patiently waiting like he'd been, for a slice of attention.

"Hello again," Luca murmured in greeting to the paintbrush, tracing one finger along the smooth edge of painted wood.

The beams of light flickered along his teal scales, making the darkness of the pool shine pleasantly. But a flash of color even brighter than the sun passed across Luca's dorsal fin so harshly that he yelped aloud in the water and shrunk back from the odd thing. Was it lightning? Another thing Signora Paguro had cautioned him over, something painted quite scary from her perspective in his mind.

But the sun was there, so surely it wasn't lightning.

But even still the flashes appeared once, and then again, with a subdued pop from being underwater.

Wiping the back of his neck, as if the action were to rid him of the itchy feeling the blinding flashes sent along his scales, Luca looked up.

There was Alberto, his silhouette distorted along the water, gripping something bulky in his arms that appeared to be the object of Luca's discomfort.

/ / /

"W-Woah! Hey! What are you doing?"

Alberto leapt back from the mouth of the pool but the boy had swiped for Massimo's polaroid camera. He clawed for it in Alberto's quavering hands, while Alberto was still stunned by the fact that the creature had actually jumped up from the water and attacked him.

Well, he attacked the camera.

He tried to attack the camera.

"What is that thing?" The boy growled, his brows pulled low and angry while it seemed like above water the color of his eyes dimmed to a dark yellow. But still as striking. He had managed to knock Alberto down to the rocky ground where he felt the film in his back pocket crush under the combined weight. Oh hell. That was his last cartridge.

"It's--It's my father's camera! So you can't have it!" Alberto choked out.

"Why does it hurt like the sun?" The boy questioned, his grabbing motion and bared teeth bringing to mind a raccoon. Alberto tried to peel the creature's body from him but it was no use, he had Alberto's legs pinned with his tail.

"What are you talking about?" Alberto shimmed under the boy's weight, taking in a generous amount of air so he didn't gape at his assortment of teal and blue scales inches from his heaving chest, dripping salt water and something slimy. "I was just taking pictures for reference."

"Pictures?" The boy cocked his head, losing some of his fire. Alberto offered a shaky smile, using one hand to press into the ground to wiggle free. The creature got the hint and his vertical pupils widened in shock and wonder. He rolled off Alberto's lap, deflating. "Oh! Sharks, I'm really sorry. I don't know what got into me...I just hate that thing."

"The camera?" Alberto wiped his hand on his shorts, now soaked in water, and scooted a little ways from the boy. He waved the camera around in the air for effect, perhaps a bit carelessly, and the other boy flinched. "This takes pictures of things. It's cool!"

"Well, why were you taking picture things of me?" He said slowly, tasting the new words.

Under the sun Alberto was distracted by the creature's scales, so opalescent on the surface with that deep undertone of his true teal color. His dorsal fin, with no buoyant water to trail along, was flopped to one side casually. Alberto avoided looking at his tail, because this thing had a tail like an animal but could converse as lightly as any kid playing soccer by the fountain.

In short, he was beautiful. But also was a sort-of-fish and Alberto worried he was going to turn into someone's next fillet for the dinner table if he cooked out in the summer heat for much longer.

"Uh, aren't you going to dry up or something up here, sea monster?" Alberto pointed to the droplets of water quickly drying up on his scales.

The boy blushed, but from the sun's rays it wasn't as brilliant as it was the day before in the water. "It's Luca. And I think I'll be fine." He tapped the space below the fins on his cheeks, to some hidden part of his scales that Alberto was too shy to inquire about.

"What's Luca?"

The boy wrinkled his snout. "I'm Luca. That's my name, you catfish. Luca Paguro."

Alberto chuckled and let the polaroid camera rest beside him on a soft tuft of grass. "Catfish? Ouch. You know, I think I know someone who actually looks like a catfish."

Luca grinned his pointy teeth at him. "A real catfish? Can I see him?"

"Oh..." Alberto pulled his knees closer to his damp tank top and frowned at the puddle of water beside him. "I don't know about that..."

"Well, why not?" Luca questioned. He pointed to Alberto. "The Surface isn't so bad. I met you! And...And-" He tried to form the right words, looking so cute with his yellow eyes scrunched close. "And what are those things?"

Luca had abandoned his previous statement and crawled over to Alberto's travel hutch of paints, now propped open for him to admire. Alberto watched in silence as Luca tentatively stuck his webbed hand into the box, staring with raw curiosity at the shiny metal tubes of acrylic and the ceramic saucer serving as his palette.

He picked up Alberto's newest tube of red, examining the plastic top, unbroken.

"That's my paint box. I was thinking of doing a portrait--"

Luca turned the tube of paint so it was horizontal in his claws and took a bite from the top.

"...Of you," Alberto finished, shoulders slack. Luca's eyes flung back open when the pressure sent a burst of red acrylic across his fingers and into his mouth. He dropped the tube with a cry, teeth now stained an alarming red.

"You're not supposed to eat it," Alberto commented. He picked up the ruined tube with Luca's teeth marks still in it and set it in a corner of the box. "Here."

He handed over a towel he'd brought to clean his brushes so Luca could clean his face. Luca blinked wildly at the towel in Alberto's hands, not knowing what to do with it, so Alberto took the liberty to dip the cloth into the pool and wipe the red paint off his scales.

"That feels kind of weird," Luca whispered, eyes flickering up to the muscles lightly moving in Alberto's arm as he worked. His skin turned blue again, the odd freckles spanning along his bright cheeks flushing.

"Well next time don't take a bite out of my paints. Besides, it's for painting, obviously. Not food."

Luca sat on the back of his legs and quietly watched Alberto roll the cloth up and set it in the grass. "Can I paint? It looks like fun."

Alberto's eyes widened and bit his lip to hide his excitement. He fished inside his bag for a piece of paper for Luca then a small flat canvas for himself.

"Sure, I guess," He brushed it off. "Just don't get upset if it doesn't look like my paintings. I'm pretty good."

Luca snorted but eagerly snatched the paper from Alberto. He set it on a drier edge of the pool and slid back into the water. Spinning back around, he flashed Alberto a grin and held up the paintbrush he'd taken the day before, the wood soaked and paint chipping in places from water damage.

"I don't think you can paint with that, buddy," Alberto tsked. "The wood's probably rotted."

Luca's face fell and he jammed the paintbrush back into the crevice from before and scanned Alberto's palette he'd been depositing small portions of paint onto, grumbling.

Alberto started to paint and Luca just sat there watching, confused. Luca hid his face below the edge of the rock and used his index finger to dip into the well of green paint, then placed it on the paper. He let out a tiny noise at the discovery, now smearing globby splotches of forest green all along the page.

"Look Alberto!" Luca tugged on Alberto's toe to get his attention. He looked up from his canvas at Luca's paper. It wasn't much, but the look of pure glee on Luca's features was enough for Alberto to reach out and gently brush the fins on his head, like Luca had done with his hand, and smile.

"Nice," Alberto said softly. Luca blinked at his hand touching him, retreating a little into the water in surprise, but he soon floated back up and was adding blues to his messy painting. Luca couldn't be much younger than Alberto himself, only sixteen, and there still hung a childish innocence to him that was because he was so sheltered.

He knew he could never take Luca back to Portorosso. It was a fishing town.

Full of harpoons, nasty blades, monster-fearing Portorosso.

[cutegirlmayra]

Sokai AU cause unfathomable reasons.

Prompt:

The sandy grains of home were carried by the beach’s breeze in the night, before carefully dropping down and remaining still as the dark cloaked the earth but kept the heavens abright.

Sora and Kairi lay on the cooled sand opposite the other, their faces side by side but upside down from one another, looking up at the sky.

Sora had just finished talking about all the different worlds he’d been too, and Kairi finished mundane talking about life back home and school, some friend chit-chat here and there about their lives and what they’ve been up to… but nothing compared to the glittering hues of blue, purple, and green that sprinkled itself like a paint brush across the skies, in ribbons of glory, only being drowned out by the light radiating in their hearts… the only distraction on this otherwise beautiful galaxy seen in the night.

The two were chuckling quietly beside the other, before Kairi lifted a hand to point at the moon, “Look! It’s teasing the sea again.”

“Teasing?” Sora looked up, dumbfounded, “How?” He scooted his head a little closer to hers, but kept his eyes on the moon. “It looks like a glowing rock to me.”

“That doesn’t mean it doesn’t have it’s own attraction, though.” Kairi also, ever so delicately, and being too shy to pay much attention to it, let her cheek tilt lightly towards his upside-down from her direction forehead as well.

He looked up, unable to help but notice the warmth from her body heat pierce the cold and soothe his growing need to be with her. In all his travelings, this feeling never waned. Even when he was young, he always wanted to be close to her… but it was never quite at potent as it had been when he returned so many years back.

“The waves pull and tug between their emotions for each other.” Kairi continued, digging her fingers into the sand and showing resistance, before letting go and scooting her palms to push the sand forward. It was similar in rhythm and movement as the tide, “It keeps trying to tell itself it’s not possible to reach the moon, but then it goes back to reaching for it again. It’s a beautiful love story, isn’t it?”

Sora peered up, pushing his head against the sand and letting his hair get messy to tilt his chin up and get a better angle at what her hands were doing behind him on the sand.

His own hands were on his stomach, and he moved them off to lean himself for a better view.

“You could just turn around, you know. Silly head.” Kairi giggled, and her laughter rang through like a bell to his ears, her being so close, the music of it delighted him into laughing himself.

“Haha, I know.” He laid back down, “I always thought the sun and the moon were a thing… Always chasing, never meeting.”

“The sun meets the moon, and vise-versa.” Kairi turned her head to him, “That’s when we get an eclipse-ah!” in that one, miscalculated moment… Kairi’s nose lightly hit against him.

She swiftly turned her head back up, covering the lower portion of her face as Sora could feel her cheek on his forehead warm up.

His eyes wanted to look, and lightly did a few takes, but he heard her sneeze and snicker quietly to herself. He was unaware that his hair had tickled her nose and caused her to sneeze, which she was laughing at. She felt it was a funny act, and played it off as such.

He closed his eyes and smiled, enjoying being with her again after all this time had passed. He reached up his hand to point directly across from her, since they were laying in front of the shoreline, but positioned at it’s right. His arm lifted up along the sandy beach to be above her own laid head and pointed out towards the ocean, “But then… don’t the moon and sea meet at the horizon?”

Kairi thought about it, turning her head away from him as he looked at the back of her head, his own mind racing with thoughts of her as she admired the twinkling stars reflected on it.

“It still must pine for more, though… don’t’cha think so?” when she turned her head back to him, he still had his head fully turned to her, so their eyes, although upside-down, were parallel to each other.

A galaxy left unexplored rested in the light of their own inner minds, swirling out in speckled stars within the color of their own hues…

“Y-yeah… guess it is kinda a lame story… huh?” Sora knew he had to speak but didn’t really want to reply, he was too invested in the warmth from her. “It’s warm.” he finally stated, before heat swarmed his own cheeks at blurting out his admiring thoughts.

He looked down and away, pulling in his lips at his embarrassing folly, but Kairi’s light breathing revealed her own ‘pull’ of attraction and her eyes batted and quickly looked away to try and sedate the sensation. “I-It is an island, Sora.” she smiled and closed her eyes, feeling his hair tickle her chin now that she was tucking it down and withdrawing slightly.

Her forehead brushed up against the corner of his nose and cheek again, and he could smell the salty breeze in it.

He smiled too, relaxing and closing his eyes… “Yeah… Or maybe I’ve caught something.”

“You’re sick?” She leaned her head back up, lifting it slightly off the grainy sand. “Are you sure?” She lightly touched his cheek and the cold dissipated into a soft, low burn that made his eyes widened slightly, his pupils dilated as she then touched her own cheek.

“...That’s not how you tell if someone’s warm or not.” Sora couldn’t help but grin widely like a fool, clearly in the depths of the sea, bathed in the light of the moon.

Kairi blushed a little and lowered her fingers that had pushed lightly against her own cheek, nervous… but as her eyes lowered and rose back to meet his, she nudged herself closer and put her cheek up against his.

It was so soothing he thought he could fall right to sleep and dream forever.

Who needs blankets?

“...Hmm… You feel warm.” she admitted, looking away as he saw her eyelashes from the framing of her eyes bat again. He couldn’t see where she was looking, but lightly moved his nose and felt her eyebrow’s hair glide against it.

“I feel cold... compared to you.”

The small, miniscule gesture could have gone completely unnoticed, but as though drawn to the touch, Kairi gently and also very carefully joined the nuzzling sensation, each moving in tiny increments as though trying to disguise from the other what they were experiencing.

There was a soft sigh… barely audible, and when Kairi opened her eyes, she felt too many static pulses and rose up, breaking off the sliding of their cheeks and tapping of their noses together, their foreheads sharing warmth and rubbing against the sand…

She covered her face again and then brushed herself off, almost as though pushing the feeling back and getting up.

Sora immediately leaned up too, worried he had done something wrong, and sat upon the sand while she put her hands behind her back, and walked back passed him.

“Kairi..?! I’m-!” he wanted to say he was sorry, in case he really did overstep something, thinking maybe he had frightened her and she caught on to his careful play, not realizing she was enjoying being close to him in her own hidden way too. “Are… you okay?”

His hand lowered to between his resting legs, seeing as she stopped walking just a small ways away from where they were previously laying.

“Em-hmm.” Kairi’s hair drifted as she paused her walk, falling up and then down to rest from the movement. She was looking still as the night… but beautiful, ever just the same… even though he could only see her back-view. Was she looking down? Away at something? Had he made her uncomfortable..?

He was wracked to his core, thinking she may have caught on to him, and didn’t know how to explain himself. He pushed down his lower lip again and furrowed his brow, regretting the poor moment of weakened judgement, “Em…” He was about to call out his supposed error and apologize, not wanting to let her go but keep by her side until she spoke out again.

“I’m just going to cool off at the pier. I got a bit… too warm… you’re just so full of heat, Sora!” she turned to tilt and twist her body back, closing her eyes and giving him the brightest smile.

He grinned too, surprised and not following what she was implying, but was glad she wasn’t leaving him behind.

He got up and raced to catch up to her as she waited for him and they both walked blissfully at peace by the other.

Sora put his hands behind his head as Kairi sat down at the edge of the pier, kicking her feet off and getting comfy.

She looked up at him and then the stars, which made him look down and back at her, deciding to sit next to her.

“Sora… The stars don’t change… people shouldn’t either.” She nodded, and he listened intently, looking back at her as he kept one knee raised up with it’s foot still on the pier, letting his wrist rest on it.

He studied her words and then nodded more enthusiastically back, strongly looking out towards the night sky full of stars too. “Yeah… but people don’t really change, they grow. Things get bigger… more…” he suddenly felt her fingers move over his resting hand... 

His eyes twitched as though to blink but didn’t, he felt her pinkie and ring finger glide over his knuckles and then stop, inching with brief stops as though unsure if he was accepting this gesture or not.

He lifted his hand lightly, tilting it on it’s wrist, and allowed her fingers to curl under and hold him as he did the same, gripping them from underneath his palm.

Like a shell, closing under the pearl to blanket it, he lowered his hand back as though to lock her kind expression of affection there and not remove it from his side.

“Expanded..?” Kairi replied, looking away but nudging her head down cutely, realizing he was accepting the invitation.

The touch kept that flickering flame aglow, but strengthened it deeper in their hearts.

“Yeah…”

The two didn’t look at one another, possibly too embarrassed and shy to say anything, but it was clear they understood the other to perhaps like them mutually back as they secretly did the other.

But… was it so much a secret?

The two smiled in glee off from the other as Sora raised his other hand from his knee and scratched behind his head… this was something he’d always wanted to do… hold her hand… be there for and with her… but then-

Kairi tugged on his hand, pulling him down off the pier and into the water as he plummeted down, not letting go of her hand.

“Ahh!”

She laughed and gripped the pier with her free hand, turning her body as to not fall in.

He was half submerged from his waist down before flailing a bit to move back up towards the surface, but with her hand as an anchor, it wasn’t too hard to get back to the pier.

“Hey! What’s the big idea, Kairi?” he seemed startled, but that childish complaining made her laugh even more, trying to keep her strength about her and not laugh off the pier.

“Just cooling you off.” she had felt he was her moon, and she was thrusting him into the sea... 

But to Sora, he was like the ocean… and this time-

A sly and playful smile spread across his face as he curled his fingers tighter into her hand, readying as he lifted his foot to the wood under the pier, holding it steady.

He was going to pull her into him.

“Then maybe you should join me!” he ripped her from the top of the pier and the two dived into together, Kairi twisting to face the sea’s surface but sinking down gently into the blue with her eyes closed from the impact.

Sora floated over her and opened her hand up to intertwined his own into it, and while her eyes squinted a moment from the shades of shadow and moonlight, she could see him eyeing her from above, as though asking permission.

Entranced by the dream-like floating, she opened her mouth slightly and pulled into him, and when he noticed her soft lunge for him, he joined it and the two shared a quiet, but heated declaration of affection…

Needing air again, Sora and Kairi released their holds, Sora pulling her from below and Kairi whisking her hands through his hair and moving from his head to holding from around his neck.

They both came up to the surface before Sora balanced his arms and swung them to keep himself afloat. Looking around, he reached up and grabbed the edge of the pier, then returned his determined arm to protectively holding Kairi up without her needing to kick or swim.

Hooked onto it, he looked down at her and skimmed his nose down the bridge of her own, making sure she was okay.

She bundled her hands to hide her face, peeking up at how close he was and tenderly surrendering to his hold… letting him keep her up from drifting into the push and pull of the waves again.

“Riptide.” Sora gently whispered out, “I hear they’re deadly…” He tried to be charming, but she splashed water in his face and grabbed the pier, pulling away from him and swimming off.

“Were you thinking I’d let you hold me all night?” She teased, sending the flame through the gunpowder wire and shooting him off like a rocket after her.

She laughed, before seeing him summon his keyblade and disappear under the water. She stopped and looked around, unable to see anything. Usually, the water was so clear during the day, but at night, it was like swimming through a mirror of the universe.

A large blast followed swiftly by her and she lifted an arm up while the raining splash pelted her quickly, and looking up, Sora had jumped and spun his keyblade to move swiftly through the water and double-jumped into a glide to find her.

He flew around her infinitely a few times, and she shook her head at his antics.

“Hehe… You gotta teach me how to do that.” She moved to swim towards the shoreline but he cut her off, aiming and positioning himself to lightly drift to the water like a swan to a lake. “H-hey..!”

He offered her his hand and she took it, then placed it on his shoulder and used his keyblade to propel them through the tide towards the shore.

“Quite a propeller you have there.” she teased.

“Would have come in handy when we had the raft.” He kid right back, and the two slugged their way out of the water, soaking wet, but enjoying the night, just the same.

“Maybe you could train with me tomorrow?”

“Why tomorrow?” Sora looked back at her but then realized she was asking him on a date. He flipped a little, wigging out but composed himself after a second and walked back up to her, gesturing his an awkward but excited hand as he spoke. “I-wah-oh-uh-y-yeah! That would be great! I’ll see you first thing tomorrow!”

She smiled, seeing he understood her. “Great, I’ll bring a picnic.”

“For breakfast?” he tilted his head, innocently naïve.

She chuckled into her hand, “No, goofball, for lunch. But if you’re that in a hurry to see me that you won’t at least have breakfast… then I’ll bring some of that too.” It would be a long but fruitful day tomorrow… in fact, the date might just last… for the rest of their lives~

He scratched the back of his head and smiled with a huge red streak across his face, and she darted up expertly to the side of him and delivered a farewell peck on his cheek, before rushing off and once again, covering the bottom-portion of her face with one hand as though unable to hide her feelings anymore.

[itstheendofthegoddamnworld]

Silver In The Sea (Julian Devorak! Pirate x Mermaid! Reader) 3

Summary: A year into his travels at sea, Julian Devorak is faced with the highs and lows of sailing across the southern sea; facing the dangers that come with it. As a physician, he is given many opportunities to live out the days in surviving for himself - especially against many things that want him dead.

Notes: Now that he knows mermaids do exist, Ilya goes out of his way to try and befriend his new fishy companion.

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Prologue -  1  -  2  -  4 

Silver In The Sea Chapter 3 (Bargaining)

The sun rose beyond the horizon of the azure sky and seafoam sea, drifting it caught in Julian's eyes with a groan of frustration when he was awoken by the rising heat. Five minutes, please. I don't want to face another day in the dying heat. 

His skin was prickling and burning from the heat, and he had applied mud until it dried, wearing it as if he was wearing new skin. It didn't help that much when he had to apply it every five seconds; layer after layer.

My skin will blister and I will look like one soon. Julian groaned, throwing a hand over his eyes as he screwed them shut. Oh, Pasha, when will the torment end?  

A plop came from not too far to where he resided, the sound that made him lift his head briefly, but keened when his head begun to hurt. I shall need some water soon, and by then, I'll know I will be truly insane.

He wanted to imagine what his younger sister would think of him when he returned back to the mainland, where he would be surrounded by humans once more; a savage they'll call me, and one I will welcome. 

He wanted to imagine being back home, in his bed and safe and sound with his family, not left in the wasteland on an island away from all. 

Perhaps I have been dreaming all along and I've been drifting in the sea since the beginning? That would explain why I have been imagining a mermaid here.

There was a shifting of sand that came coming up the sandbanks, closer and closer, Julian could hear how whatever it struggled with a lack of being able to pull themselves up higher from the water. 

Anyone else would look up and try and understand what was going on, but Julian had found that there was nothing that would gain his attention.

When did the sun go in? Heh, have my prayers been answered? Julian wanted to praise whoever was there to help the sun cool down, but when he felt a large shadow drift over him, he wanted to assume that there would be a storm brewing.

It was only until he felt a heavy drop land on the side of his face that he finally ripped his eyes open upon the sight. When did this island hold pretty maidens?

The mermaid he had witnessed yesterday was not only here and existing, but hovering right above him, those piercing eyes staring directly into his own being with such a euphoric power but Julian didn't believe he would ever understand. 

There is a beauty in this world that holds such danger, and I'm dancing with a creature that not many would say would exist.

There was a feeling pressed against his chest, and when Julian looked down, the mermaid had their webbed, clawed hands pressed up against and resting on him, their flesh flush to his that if he concentrated hard enough, he could pinpoint the feeling of her chest pressed against his-

He dismissed the thought before the blood poured to his head and made him red like a balloon; certain that such thoughts should be too provocative. I am a doctor, and my imagination at sea has been left unattended.

"You know, if you're going to sit there and watch, you could at least say something." Julian hummed, mumbling to himself like a deranged man. The mermaid gave a tilt of her head, one such image of a dog he found in Vesuvia, from the times he had fed the stray. The view alone made Julian's heart soar from the cuteness. Still, the mermaid gawked, giving no indication she was listening nor comprehended what was said to her.

"Like maybe... tell me what your name is, or, how many others are there of you? Or, whether I'll get off this island alive or just bones in the sand." His voice grew hoarse at the end of his ramble, quickly trailing off as he looked away. He sighed in discontent: if I am to befriend a mermaid, they could at least give me one who wanted to talk back, or even want to be my friend.

There was shifting once more in the sand beside him, and when Julian looked up, he witnessed the mermaid drag themselves back towards the water, like they were a sack of heavy sugar and they were trying to drag the weight back. The sight alone was rather comical. 

"Hey, where are you going?" Julian called, but yet, the mermaid did not answer nor look back on him, leaving him to himself as she disappeared once more when she was fully submerged in water, and he waited once more for a couple of minutes, then hours, until he grew bored of waiting and assuming she wouldn't return.

He wandered from his spot around the small forest area of the island, looking for more twigs for the fire and rock and stone he would use for a weapon of some sort to crack stuff like coconuts open. He was rather disappointed to find no coconuts on the island.

When he returned, the sun was still high, but the day was coming to an end, and the hunger building in Julian was rumbling in his stomach. He knew he would have to cook once more, but hunting and fishing like last time didn't go so well. When he returned to his spot, the sand still had curvatures in a movement of something crawling and twisting with effort, dampness in a spot when he sat down.

When he looked to his poorly set-up fire, was when he thought he was truly hallucinating. There, sat perfectly on a large smooth stone, were two degutted silverfish, waiting as if on a platter for him to eat.

Where the gods truly playing a cruel joke on him? Were he to eat it and the touch would become to sand rather than what he had not been expecting? Another plop came from behind him, and when he looked back, into the rocky waters, there, sat on the rocks awaiting him was his new fishy friend.

"Did you get these for me?" He stood from his spot, walking towards her until he stood just a good distance that wasn't to scare her off. She was soaked to the bone but unbothered by it, her long hair keeping her modesty, as he silver tail flickered in and out of the water below; like when Pepi had been played with and was ready to strike. 

"I-- thank you, this was not what I was expecting." Julian gave a grin, expecting her to not even bother giving him a look that told him she understood, but instead, she looked to him, and with a broad grin, opened her mouth, and music fell from her lips.

"You're welcome."

[unstoppableforcce]

waves crash, ships don’t ( 7 )

The Mandalorian x reader

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wow okay, so I was going to have this up last night but then I made it so much worse, oops. enjoy ? I still really love all the feedback so please keep it coming !

The lightning that night woke you with a thunderous clap.

In your own defense, you had barely been asleep. After hours of laying on your sad excuse for a bed, simply staring at the ceiling, you had managed to briefly drift off and that was when the weather woke you back up.

By then, you knew no sleep was coming and you weren’t one to waste any more time waiting for it. You had to stay busy. Sitting… Lingering in it… It would all come back.

Who were you kidding? It was back the second the Razor Crest cut its engines on your front lawn.

The fire had nearly begun to die out, you noticed it the second you stepped out of your small room. But all of the firewood was still drenched.

It wasn’t a cold planet, quite the opposite, the steamy jungle surrounding the house and the hot winds off the coast kept everything plenty warm on its own. But the smoke was necessary to keep the natural insects away, not that they were dangerous, more of a nuisance than anything else.

But since you had taken up a home there, you had never once let the fire die out.

It was hard during the wet season, but you had managed. But not this year. Not with them here. You just weren’t functioning at your highest capacity and the mee thought f it made you uneasy.

Trying to keep a silent step, you inched closer to the central pit and watched as the embers continued to flicker, not much of a fire but still something small and warm. They each laid out around the room. Mando stayed on the couch, occupying one side while Cara took the other, a reasonable distance between the two of them which the child filled. Karga was on the other side of it, laid out across the floor strewn around with blankets.

But within seconds of standing over them and watching, you knew he was awake. You could feel his stare, even from where he laid down.

And you let it linger, pretending you didn’t notice, keeping your stare on the fire and nothing else. You weren’t sure why you did it, why you wasted the time playing into his hand, but you did. Wrapping your thin blanket even tighter, you stayed still, just letting him stare.

He may have been hurt still, but he knew you knew. You always knew.

Yet the silence lingered.

Every so often, a thunderous clap would echo, accompanying the violent downpour of rain against the roof or the child would let out a faint snore. In the briefest periods of silence from the storm, the waves could be heard crashing violently against the shore.

There was no rhythm to it. It was crude and disjointed. Nothing like the gentle lull you had been so easily encapsulated by the day prior while sitting on the damp sand.

This was as aggressive as the storm.

As a particularly large wave crashed, the wind whipped a gust of rain into the side of the house and lighting struck, a bright flash of light coating the room before an unsettling rap of thunder followed.

He sat up with a faint groan, incapable of letting the game of pretend linger any longer between the two of you. You were both too adept for that.

But you surprised him with your raspy morning voice, speaking first.

“I didn’t mean to wake you.” Even as it came with gravel in the tone, as tumultuous as the sea raging outside, it felt soft as it coasted to his ears.

Maybe it was because you looked particularly soft where you stood with your arms wrapped around your torso, keeping yourself encased with just the blanket, the dying fire casting an almost warm glow across the half of your form which faced it. Or maybe it was because you intended it to come out as soft, though he couldn’t wrap his mind around that idea for long.

You wouldn’t be soft, he told himself, not with him. 

“I couldn’t sleep either.”

You nodded slowly along with him, trying to not linger too long of the thought that he had been listening to you toss and turn in your bed, incapable of falling asleep the entire night. But you couldn’t help it. He laid out on the couch in a very specific direction, the direction facing your small room.

The ambient silence returned, him staring at you and you staring at the fire while the storm seemed to ravage the jungle and coastline outside the thin walls of your house.

But it wasn’t that noise which bothered you. It was the faint snores from the child that wouldn’t escape your mind. The small green creature which had been so bright. So happy.

That was a sound you needed out of your head, a sound you need to talk over. And suddenly the words fell from your lips before you could stop yourself.

“Why did you come here?”

Out of your peripheral, you could spot the slight change in sparkling reflection across his helmet as he quirked his head.

“We needed somewhere to lay low.” He answered quietly, another low groan escaping through his modulator as he managed his way to his feet. “Somewhere off the radar.”

You nodded again, still refusing to glance his way, even as he got closer to where you stood. From the corner of your eye, you could see he still had his chest plate and undershirt off, not replacing anything after you cut it off to save him. Instead, he had a blanket tossed over his shoulders, loosely shrugging over his form.

He looked warm. You forced your focus back to the crackling of the last remnants of wood in the pit.

“She apologized for you.” Again, the words came before you could stop them. But once they were out, you couldn’t take them back, nor did you have any intention to do so. 

He quirked his head once more, angling himself to you instead of the pit you stared at.

You answered before he even got the question out, “Cara… She said you were thankful I let you stay, that you felt bad for breaking whatever promise you made to me.”

Your voice was barely above a whisper, toeing the line of audible once the thunder surged through the sky again. But he heard you. He was standing to close to miss it, and his stare followed the flex of your lips with every word you spoke. He didn’t miss a syllable.

Which was why his heart sank the way it did.

He stole a brief glance to where Cara had passed out, face inwards to the bend of the couch. He couldn’t tell if she was awake yet, he was trying as hard not to wake them as you were. But if she was awake, there was no way she would show it. He knew she would try to eavesdrop for as long as possible in place of disturbing them in any way.

He wasn’t sure whether he was mad or not. It wasn’t that her comment was out of place, or even wrong, it was that they had been words he was incapable of getting out, of telling you directly the way he wanted to and she told you before he got the chance. He wasn’t mad. If anything, he felt slightly inadequate.

“You consider it a broken promise?” Your meek voice eked out before he had a chance to assemble any version of an adequate response. “You told them you broke a promise to me but-”

“Yes.”

Your stare finally disconnected from the fire and turned to him. Half cast over in shadows, half burning with the warmth of the fire given the way he turned towards you.

Another calamity of waves against the shore crashed down and another violent strike of wind and rain hit the windows, giving the house a slight shake that neither of you paid any attention to now that your stares remained fixed on one another.

“I promised that I would keep you safe, and I didn’t.” He managed out through a clenched throat. His brain didn’t even know how he was managing it as he traced the intricate details across you equally as shadowed and fire painted face. “I failed you.”

You didn’t know what strength you were pulling from to keep his stare, but you couldn’t look away from the small slit of his helmet, knowing his stare behind it had never left you since you walked in.

A bright strike of lighting cast the two of you in a bright light for the briefest of seconds before fading back to the warm light of the fire, getting smaller and smaller each and every second, then the thunder came.

The memories were there as soon as the bright hue of the lightning hit across his beskar, illuminating him from the shadows briefly.

How the aggressive artificial lights of the stolen imperial ship had cast him in the same glow. Three years ago. The day he made the promise.

The ship was soaring through space at hyperspeed, he had abandoned the controls to come to the back of the cargo hull and watch you tend to your own wound. You knew he was staring. You always knew.

A bounty was placed on you. That was why he came to find you. What you had done in the two months since he had last seen you, he didn’t know, nor did he care. And he had absolutely no intention of freezing you in carbonite aboard his ship either. He found you to warn you.

Unfortunately, running with the paranoia of a hefty bounty on your head made you much more skeptical of the beskar covered hunter. The second he entered the cantina you were hidden in, you started a bar brawl, using it as a distraction to escape him. The long wound across your chin came as a broken bottle skimmed your throat and caught your jawline, a consequence of the battle you started to escape him.

Him. The man you had the least to fear from in the bar. You just didn’t know that at the time.

You managed to get out, but so did he, following you back to your ship just as you collapsed in the hull. A stolen imperial model. Not that there was any empire anymore, but it was certainly not a ship you bought with your own credits.

Futilely, you tried to fight him with blood cascading from your chin. He shut that down easily, but with hunters still following, he had no choice but to get you to safety aboard your own ship. Which was how he ended up flying it while you applied your own bacta in the hull.

And now, he just watched.

As soon as you had the last of the patch covering the wound, you looked back to him and sighed. He took that as an invitation to approach, whether it was or not, he didn’t care.

“So, how much are you getting for me?” You shot back carefully, eyeing him as he came to standstill in front of where you sat.

“I’m not.” He sighed, groaning briefly as he bent down onto his knees in front of you. “I came to warn you, not to bring you in.”

You scoffed, directly into his helmeted face, shaking your head as much as you could before your cut began to sting against the patch.

“I could never hurt you.” He tried again, placing his hand gently to your knee, waiting for you to hit it away, but you didn’t.

You let it linger as you always allowed his stare to.

“I don’t know who put the bounty on you, but I won’t let anything happen to you.”

And in that moment, with his gloved fingers drawing tiny shapes into your skin, you believed him. Worse. You trusted him.

You didn’t trust anyone. But you trusted him. 

For a year, you trusted him. You heeded his word and stayed put on a small planet, immersed in the religious culture as you traded labor for the monastery in exchange for privacy.

He knew hunters better than you did. He said you would be safe there. He promised you that.

A year later almost exactly, two hunters set fire to the entirety of the village to flush you out.

You woke to the sound of screams, screams of children and adults alike. The same children and adults who had accepted you so easily, who had been so bright and happy, who had been screaming with excitement as they celebrated their holidays just a mere hours prior to the current calamity.

The village was gone. Almost everyone was dead. And they did it to get to you.

Mando showed up two hours too late, finding you covered in blood, kneeling over the bodies of the two hunters responsible, a knife in your hand. The blood wasn’t yours. None of it was.

He didn’t bother trying to explain himself, he knew you wouldn’t hear it.

He just waited silently as he watched you wash the blood from your body in the still water of the lake.

Since the day the bounty was placed on you, he had only seen you smile when playing with the village youth. Now, as you washed the dark blood of the men who killed them from your skin, he knew he wouldn’t see you smile again.

He didn’t bother telling you he eliminated the one who put the bounty on you in the first place. It didn’t matter to you anymore. You knew he would only be back if he had done that, if he was sure you would be safe now, he had said just that. You didn’t need him to say it, you knew.

And it didn’t matter.

You pushed the knife into his hand as you walked with a drenched form out of the water, you were nothing like he left you.

He did that to you. He knew that. He had ruined you. 

As much as you wished it was a memory only brought back by him being there, you couldn’t lie. It was the highlighted plot of each of the nightmares that plagued you when you laid in bed desperate for sleep on this hot planet. It wasn’t even worse now that he was there. You couldn’t blame him like that. They were always bad. With him there, they were still bad. No worse. They couldn’t get worse.

He promised to keep you safe and failed. He knew that. 

Two years and he still didn’t realize that he hadn’t failed you in that respect.

“I’m alive.” You muttered out, pulling your blanket even tighter around your form. It wasn’t cold. You weren’t cold. You just needed to.

“That wasn’t what I promised you.” He sighed, taking a half step closer. “Everything that happened was my fault and I promised you.”

“I didn’t meet you at the door with a blaster because you broke that promise.”

He didn’t need to quirk his head to get you to continue, the dam was already broken, the words were coming now.

“I don’t blame you for what happened. I know how to accept responsibility for my own actions…” You inhaled and kept going. “But you left me here alone.”

“I thought that you wanted me gone.”

“You left me like I was some broken piece of equipment.” Your throat had gone dry, but you tried to muster through it. “You couldn’t look at me, that was why you left, don’t blame me.”

“I don’t blame you-”

“You can’t say you left because I wanted you to. I didn’t. You left because your guilt consumed you, so don’t blame me.” You huffed one last time, eyes finally dropping from where they had stayed on his helmeted stare. “I know what I was, I know what I did to get that bounty, I know they died because of me… But I never blamed you and you left me because you convinced yourself I did.”

You stepped around him and moved out of the living area before he had a chance to stop you. He was frozen, incapable of thinking of a single word of response as his heart tore in half.

He let you go.

The waves crashed again on the shore. Ragged and turbulent just like his breathing now. 

tags

@im-the-nerdiest-of-them-a11 @bva14 @steve-thotgers @bonkybaaarnes @persephonehemingway @scintilla-morningstar @sarcasm-n-insomnia @jellyfishpoptart @tedpicklez @morgannope @vaultingphilosophy @fan-g0rl @theladyofmanyfandomsofficial @ginger-swag-rapunzel @afootnoteinyourhappiness ( again, I think this is all of them, if I missed you or you want to be added, please let me know, either in the replies or send an ask)

[shitpostsfromtheinvisiblelibrary]

Day two: anniversairy

Tags: fluff, implied sex

Rating: T

Pairing(s): Kai x Irene, implied one-sided Silver x Vale

The speech droned on and on, Irene knew that they would, everyone who was anyone would want to make one. She’d been asked if she would have a few words to say and she immediately shot down that line of thought, there was no way that she was getting up and speaking to a several dozen dragons, Fae and Librarians. That wouldn't happen except perhaps in her nightmares.

“Well, thank god that is over.” She sighed as soon as idle chatter began to fill the room again. 

“I thought that you would have started to like these things a bit more,” Vale remarked as they began to circle the room again, Irene searching through the throngs to try and find Kai again, who had made a speech and was likely somewhere nearby his father. “Plenty of practice over the last year.”

Irene shot him a glance out of the corner of her eye before accepting a glass of wine off a waiters tray. “I have been far more worried about the security of this whole thing than the speeches and partying. Kai has taken to it like…” 

“A fish in water?” 

“I was trying to think of a better metaphor, but yes. Exactly like that.” She said. She had been very worried about security when it had been suggested that they host a party for the one year anniversary of the Paris treaty. His majesty Ao Guang had volunteered a location, a quite modern mansion on a solitary island just off the coast of Japan. Kai had jumped at that suggestion and started making arrangements as soon as Sterrington voiced her approval. 

Leaving Irene to worry about the things such as assassins, poisoners and outright assaults. She had barely relaxed all evening. 

The stilettos were not helping. Sure she could probably keep pace with Kai in them, but her toes were hurting and it was a distraction.

Kai was with his father, stood a little way off as Ao Guang and the Cardinal were engaged in a discussion about some minute detail, something about the architecture of the home. Nice and bland, much to Irene’s relief. 

She dipped into a curtsey and Vale bowed. Ao Guang signalled for them to rise with an idle wave of his hand. “You have managed to put together quite the celebration, madame Winters.” He said Irene ducked her head. 

“That was mainly your son, your majesty, I have no mind for such things.” Ao Guang looked to Kai, who shrugged.

“Madame Winters did have some input toward the party planning, but she mainly focused on making sure that this event was secure, efforts that I believe to be necessary as it has given everyone chance to enjoy themselves.” He paused. “She helped pick out some of the wine.” Irene looked down at her glass. 

“I will admit that I do have good taste in that.” She said, looking to Kai. “There is nothing wrong with sweet wines.” 

“No, I didn’t say that there was. I just wouldn't pick it.” He toasted to her with his glass. “I am grateful that you changed my mind. It is rather good.” The conversation drifted off after that, Kai waited a few minutes more before slowly and quietly making his exit. They slowly circled the room until nearby a balcony where the smell of the sea swept into the room and Kai smiled, deeply inhaling it. 

“May I steal Irene?” Kai asked Vale. Vale shrugged. 

“I think I will retire for the night,” Vale said, glancing over to where Silver was quite clearly attempting to seduce two dragons, and his shoulders slumped. “I may break into Silver’s rooms, just because.” Irene touched his elbow. 

“Thank you for your company this evening.” She looked over to Silver too. “Maybe he’ll have something that interests you in there, and if he doesn’t, maybe you can have some fun messing with him.” 

“Maybe.” 

They both took the time to kick their shoes off and leave them by one of the side doors into the house before making their way across the sand. They waited until far enough away from the house before Kai reached over and laced their fingers together, pulling her closer toward the ebb and flow of rising tides. 

“I haven't been back here in years,” Kai said. “We used to come here for a few weeks every year when I was a child.” He looked back up at the house, and then to her. “Did you always live in the Library as a child?” 

“My parents had a few long term assignments,” Irene said, the foam from the sea was cold on her toes, almost a relief after high heels and hours walking around. “I think my favourite was in Prague. It’s a beautiful city. We had a tiny little flat. Nothing like this. I can’t even begin to imagine what it would have been like to grow up somewhere like this.” 

“I want to say that it was good.” He shrugged. “And it was. Just lonely sometimes.” 

“I could see why.” He walked out into the water until it was a few inches up his legs. “A midnight swim?”

“Why not? I can show you somewhere that no one else has ever seen. Where I used to go.” He held a hand out to her. “Don’t worry. I won't let you sink.” 

“Swimming, in this dress?” Well, it couldn’t be any worse than that dip in the Neva, she thought as she took his hand.

“I thought you’d say no to skinny dipping. Or accuse me of being tipsy.” 

“Both.” She said. The sea was surprisingly warm once she got used to the temperature, as the water kept climbing up her legs until it was waist-deep. “Is it a long swim?” She nervously looked back to the beach.

“Trust me, Irene.” He smiled. “I’ll keep you safe.” She took a deep breath and nodded. It wasn't that Irene was scared of deep water, but she knew well enough that her own ‘swimming’ abilities were not up to scratch for it, especially if there was a current. Kai must have sensed her nerves because he stopped and wrapped an arm around her waist. 

He rested his forehead against hers. “I can’t believe that we have made it over a year now.” He said softly and she knew that he wasn't talking about the treaty. She wondered if he had wanted to do something for their anniversary, but Irene had never been a romantic or the sentimental type and hadn't suggested anything. Kai hadn't either and she thought that maybe he had been waiting to see what she had wanted to do, what she would have been comfortable with since she was much more private than he was.

“Me neither.” She breathed. The waves seemed to be slowing around them, only around them. “I…” She didn’t have the words for how she felt, Irene and emotions was not a good combination, at least not when she tried to talk about them. It was easier to shut them away and not open her mouth. 

So, instead, she kissed him. 

Kai’s hands moved to cup her face as she clung to his spray soaked shirt, pressing themselves together. She loved it when Kai made soft sounds, almost like he was purring, before parting his lips against hers and sliding deeper into a kiss that was a rush of passion and adoration and everything between them that went unspoken and likely always would.

A wave hit Kai’s back and they went down, but Kai never let go of her, keeping his lips against hers as they were swept away by a hidden current that was only half natural. 

Blind, unable to open her eyes under the water, but luckily still able to find air thanks to Kai, Irene rid him of his suit jacket and it was quickly swept away from them. He was fumbling with the fiddly buttons down the back of her dress when they broke the surface. Irene tilted her head back to gasp for air, more on instinct than a necessity, and Kai took the opportunity to press his lips to the side of her throat, nipping at her soft skin with sharp teeth and making her gasp for another reason. 

She felt rock against her back and opened her eyes. It was dark, almost pitch black, she could see Kai, almost luminescent in the dark, watching her with lidded eyes and a smirk on his lips. He was flushed. 

“What do you think?” He asked and Irene looked around. “I don’t think anyone else ever comes down here, I don’t know if they know it exists.” It was a small cave, the seawater had created a pool in the centre of it but there was a rocky ledge maybe two metres wide and Kai helped her out onto it. 

He started looking around for something whilst she tried to get up in a sodden and unwieldy mess of silk. “Care to let me a hand?” She asked, thinking that he’d just use that nifty trick of forcing the water from the fabric, but he kept his back to her.

“Ah-ha! Here we go, they are still here.” He said, turning back to her with a small box. “Oh right, your dress, give me two minutes.” The box contained candles and he set some of them out before lighting them, the cave was small so it only took a few of them to be able to fill the place with the flickering glow. “That’s better.” 

Irene held her hand out and he helped her to her feet. “This is probably the most private place on the entire island. And it is all for us.” He smiled. “Just for you.” He kissed her again. One of his hands was on her hip and the other returned to the buttons of her dress. It became a rush of kisses and gasps and wet clothes being dropped to the floor as she discarded his tie and then shirt and he finally worked her dress undone. 

“Kai.” His name was a breathless gasp as he carefully lowered her to the floor. She twisted her fingers into his hair and pulled him into a rough kiss, bruising hard, rushed and messy. They knew that no one would find them here so they had all of the time in the world but that didn’t slow them down. 

“Kai.” She spoke almost against his lips. “I…” 

“You don’t have to say it.” He said. “I know.” He ran his hand up her thigh, hooking her leg around his hip as he leant closer and kissed her much softly this time. “I know.” 

[feedmecookiesnow]

drink up, me hearties, yo ho

For @clintscoffeepot who prompted: “Coming at you with a challenge. I’m giving you four to choose between but I want at least two in the fic. Bonus points if you can fit all four. “At least we have this fire to keep us warm.” + “Scoot over.  I wanna sit next to you.” + “You need to control your temper.” + “How do you get your skin to be so soft?””

Here you go, all four of them in a Pirates of the Caribbean AU, featuring Bucky as Jack Sparrow and Clint as Elizabeth. I regret nothing.

***

Clint hums softly to himself as he gathers more palm fronds. He has no idea if they’re decent at burning or not, but it’s at least something to put on a fire. He grabs a couple pieces of driftwood for good measure, then hauls it all back to the pile.

Once it’s somewhat arranged, he steps back and surveys the heap with a brief nod of satisfaction. “Good enough.”

He turns and looks out at the ocean, hoping against anything to see the white of a sail coming over the horizon. But there’s nothing to see except the setting sun.

They’ll find you, he assures himself. Steve’s probably got the whole fleet up in arms right now. Natasha won’t let him do anything less. They’ll find you.

“What are you doing?” asks a voice behind him, and he turns to see Captain Barnes dropping an enormous pile of wood onto the ground.

“Looking for a rescue,” Clint says irritably.

Barnes snorts. “No one’s coming to save you. Or me.” He waves an arm at the ocean. “This is it for us.”

“That’s not true,” Clint tells him. “Unlike you, I’ve got friends who will be looking for me. Quite fiercely, I might add. I’m a very important person.”

Barnes doesn’t say anything. Clint’s gaze drifts to his waist, and with a slight shock, he notes the pistol is back in Barnes’s belt.

“I hope you don’t plan on using that,” he says, pointing at it.

Barnes looks down and smirks. “My pistol, or my---”

“Pistol,” Clint says quickly, ignoring the remark even as he can feel his ears heat up. “They left you with only one shot, right?”

“That’s the tradition.”

“Well, you’re not going to use it, right?”

Barnes sighs. “Ask me again in a few weeks,” he says, and turns the other way.

Clint stares after him, then stumbles over the sand in pursuit. “Captain Barnes! We have to get off this island, immediately!”

“Don’t think I’m not already working on it,” Barnes says, walking into the trees. Clint follows him, unsure of what else to do.

They keep going, Barnes clearly looking for something. He counts palm trees, and takes oddly large steps, muttering something to himself as he does so. Finally, he stops at a pile of sand, using his hand to sweep it away. There’s a large iron ring underneath; he grabs and pulls at it.

“What is that? Is there a boat under there?”

Barnes grunts and pulls again, dragging up what appears to be a trapdoor. He drops it open and dusts off his hands, then looks inside. Clint watches as his face goes from hopeful to crestfallen in about two seconds flat.

He looks inside too, seeing nothing but a pit lined with dusty bottles, cobwebbed and ancient. They’re all full of some kind of amber liquid.

Clint doesn’t get it. “What? What’s wrong? How will this help us get off the island?”

“It won’t,” Barnes sighs, cracking open one of the bottles. He takes a swig of whatever’s inside, and makes a face somewhere between disgusted and intrigued. “It won’t, and so we won’t.”

“But...” Clint doesn’t know what to say. “But you were here before?”

Barnes shoves a couple of bottles at him. “I was.”

“You got off the island then, right?” Clint dismisses the sea turtle story for the fantasy it is. He’s spent enough time around Barnes to know that while there is something fantastical about him, using sea turtles as a raft is still an utterly ridiculous story. “How did you do it?”

Barnes grabs his own armful of bottles and hops back out, striding back towards the beach. Clint runs after him to keep up. “Captain Barnes!”

“Leave it,” Barnes growls at him. “Alright? Just leave it alone.”

“No, you have to tell me---”

Barnes turns quickly, dropping the bottles onto the sand. He pins Clint against the nearest palm tree, one hand against his chest, and other hand wrapped tightly around his upper arm. “Last time,” he hisses, eyes flaring with anger, “I was here a grand total of three days. Last time, the rumrunners who use the island as a cache came by, and I bartered passage off. But from the looks of that, they’ve been out of business for a long time, and so that won’t be happening again.”

Clint sucks in a breath, dropping his own bottles to push at Barnes. Barnes holds him there for a moment longer, then lets him go. Clint drops to the ground, one hand going to his arm. There’s going to be bruises. He can already feel them forming.

“We probably have your friend Rogers to thank for that,” Barnes adds, impassively watching Clint kneel at his feet. Then he picks up all the bottles and takes them back to the firewood.

Clint gathers himself after a moment and scurries after him, tripping over the loose sand. “So that’s it,” he finally gets out once Barnes is in earshot again. “That’s the secret grand adventure of the infamous James Barnes?” He glares at him. “You spent three days lying on the beach drinking rum?”

Barnes takes another swig of his bottle and offers him a lazy smile. “Welcome to the Caribbean, doll.”

Clint can hardly believe what he’s hearing. Joking. He’s got to be joking. But there’s something in the way he’s standing, and the resigned gaze that’s directed out to where they last saw the Black Pearl disappear that makes him think maybe not.  

“Think of it this way,” Barnes says, taking another drink. “We’ve got shade trees, thank the Lord. We’ve got some food on the trees, thank the Lord again. And we’ve got rum, praise the Lord.” He raises the bottle in Clint’s direction. “We can stay alive a month, maybe more. Keep a weather eye open for passing ships, and our chances are fair.”

“A month?” Clint gapes at him. “Tony doesn’t have a month! We’ve got to do something!”

“You’re right,” Barnes agrees, and for a moment Clint thinks he’s going to be reasonable. But then he hoists the bottle in the air and adds, “Here’s luck to you, Tony Stark.” He takes a drink, meeting Clint’s furious gaze with a calm expression.

Then he sits heavily in the sand next to their pile. “Don’t think I’m happy about this, Clint. But I see no use in wailing and gnashing my teeth over something I can do nothing about.”

“Not when you can drink instead,” Clint says acidly.

Barnes shrugs and tosses him a bottle.

Clint catches it, turning it over in his hand. The sun is almost completely set, and it’s getting chilly now. A drink would help to warm him a bit---either that or it’ll make him go blind, there’s no way this stuff is any good, not after all these years---

Barnes is looking at him with a contemplative expression. After a moment, Clint makes a decision. He unseals the bottle and takes a drink, pulling a face at the truly nasty liquid inside. “Oh God,” he mutters, fighting the urge to vomit everywhere.

“Goes down easier the second time,” Barnes tells him, smirking as he takes his own drink.

Clint makes a face again, but tries another sip. Barnes is right, it does go down easier. It’s still awful, but not quite as bad.

“There you go,” Barnes says encouragingly. He sets his bottle down and gets to his feet. “Go on and sit, I’ll get the fire started.”

Clint parks himself on a nearby piece of driftwood and watches as Barnes kneels down by the palm fronds.  He’s a scoundrel, Clint thinks, eyes drifting to the curve of his pants, and a good-for-nothing pirate, but I have to admit, he looks damn good in those---

As if on cue, Barnes raises his head to meet Clint’s gaze, a slight smirk playing across his mouth. Clint flushes and looks away, cursing the rum. That’s the only explanation for this.

Barnes gets the fire started, then comes back over to Clint. He drops to the sand, leaning against a palm tree. “Nice view,” he says with a knowing smile.

“Shut up,” Clint mutters, taking another drink. It’s the rum, it’s just the rum.

They sit in silence for awhile, watching the fire slowly burn its way through the wood and the leaves. For as awful as this situation is---being marooned on a desert island with a notorious pirate and little chance of rescue---Clint finds himself at ease. It might be the rum, sure, but after the stress and terror of the last few days, it’s also just nice to take a moment to breathe.

Barnes apparently feels the same way. He’s steadily working his way through the rum, a contented look on his face. His shirt is half open, revealing his chest, and there’s just a light dusting of hair that Clint finds oddly appealing---

Clint lets out a little groan and shakes his head like he’s trying to dislodge the thoughts from his mind. Stop thinking about him like that, Barton. Come on.

Barnes raises his eyebrow, then offers that same knowing smile. Clint is pretty sure his face is on fire, but it’s probably too difficult to see in the flickering firelight. Still, the way Barnes is looking at him...

Clint takes another drink. Maybe if he finishes the bottle, his brain will be drunk enough to think of something besides the long, lithe way Barnes is stretched out in the sand, one hand resting casually on his hip, one knee bent up---

“Christ,” Clint mutters out loud, and sets the rum down.

“Problem?” Barnes asks, his tone highly amused.

“No,” Clint says. “No problem.” He shivers from the wind.

“Are you cold?”

“No.” He shivers again.

Barnes sighs. “You’re cold,” he says. “Come sit over here.”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“Because it’s not proper,” Clint tells him, trying and failing to sound like he cares about those kinds of things. He does, to some extent, but all of that also feels very far away right now. “You know I’m promised to Commodore Rogers.”

“Well,” Barnes says, hurling a stray bit of driftwood at the fire. “When he shows up, you’re more than welcome to sit by him. Until then, you’re cold, and it’s warmer over here.”  

Clint scowls at him, but he’s right. His driftwood bench doesn’t offer much protection from the wind at all.

“Fine,” he sighs, getting up. He stumbles over to Barnes, the rum making him loose-limbed, and practically falls on top of him. “Oh. Sorry.”

“Don’t apologize,” Barnes says, sounding very pleased.

Clint makes a face and rolls off him, arranging himself the proper distance away. He takes another swig of his rum. It doesn’t taste foul anymore, and he’s not sure if that’s a good thing or a bad thing. “Still cold over here,” he mutters.

“At least we have the fire to keep us warm.”

“And the rum.”

“And the rum,” Barnes agrees. He turns to look at him, then focuses on the set of bruises. “These look new. Did I do this?”

“You need to control your temper,” Clint tells him as he tilts his head up. ”Seriously.”

Barnes nods, looking apologetic. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to.” He sighs, tilts his head back. “It’s just that that’s the second time I’ve had to watch Pierce sail away with my ship. It’s got me a bit on edge.”

“We’ll get it back,” Clint says.

“We?”

“Yeah.” He flops a hand over Barnes’s arm, thumbing over the faded tattoo of a bird. “You and me. Once we’re rescued. We’ll go get it back.”

“I don’t think your Commodore Rogers will be very pleased with that.”

“He’ll do it,” Clint says. “And if not, we’ll take his ship.”

Barnes bursts out laughing at that, shaking Clint a little bit as he gasps in air. “I’m a bad influence on you,” he says once he gets himself under control, wiping his eyes. “We’ve been spending too much time together.”

“Probably,” Clint agrees. He thumbs over the tattoo again. For whatever reason, Clint had expected Barnes’s skin to be rough and rugged under his fingertips. But other than the pirate brand, it’s surprisingly smooth and soft to the touch. “How do you do it?” he mutters, dragging his fingers up Barnes’s forearms.

“How do I do what?”

“How do you get your skin to be so soft?”

Barnes looks down at him, that fond smile playing over his face again. “Maybe we should stop with this,” he says, tugging the bottle away from Clint’s hand. “Just for now.”

“Give it back,” Clint says, swiping at it. “It’s mine.”

“Alright, doll.”

Clint feels like he should protest the informal nickname, but he likes it too much to really be angry. So he just takes another swallow, and shivers as the wind blows again. “Ugh,” he says. “Fine. Scoot over. I want to sit next to you.”

“You are sitting next to me.”

“More.” Clint moves closer, closing the short distance between them until he’s practically curled up on top of Barnes. It’s so not proper, he knows, but he doesn’t really care. He’s cold, and Barnes is warm. It’s just survival. And if it makes his heart beat a little faster, well...not like anyone but him can tell.

They’re quiet for awhile, listening to the crackle of the fire and the roar of the surf. Barnes’s arm is wrapped around him, and it feels very nice.

Clint raises his bottle to the light, squinting at it. It’s almost empty. “Drink up, me hearties, yo ho,” he mumbles, and finishes off the last of it.

“What was that?”

Clint grins and tosses the bottle aside. “Nothing.”

“Share,” Barnes says, grinning back at him. “Please.”

“It’s just a song I learned as a boy,” Clint says. “A song about pirates.”

Barnes snorts. “I know a lot of songs about pirates, but not one I’d ever teach a child. Let’s hear it.”

“It’s silly,” Clint says, blushing a little. “Back home, we didn’t know anything about pirates. They seemed so romantic, and daring---“ He blushes more, and Barnes’s grin gets a little more wicked.

“That was before I met one, of course,” Clint adds. “Now I know better.”

Barnes snorts. “I want to hear it,” he says. “An authentic pirate song. Have at it.”

“I need more to drink, first,” Clint says, and gets reluctantly to his feet. He trips his way over to their bottle collection and grabs another, taking a long swallow before turning to face Barnes again. He’s still leaning against the tree, but now he’s propped up on one elbow, and the firelight is reflecting off his skin---

You have a problem, Clint tells himself, but at least it’s a problem he’s somewhat enjoying, right?

“Well?” Barnes asks.

Clint clears his throat, suddenly a little self-conscious with the way Barnes is looking at him. “We pillage, we plunder, we rifle, we loot. Drink up, me hearties, yo ho.” He takes another drink, then carries on, his voice a little more sure. “We kidnap, and ravage, and don’t give a hoot. Drink up, me hearties, yo ho!”

Barnes looks absolutely delighted, and he stumbles to his own feet. “More,” he demands, swaying a little bit. “More, I want to hear the rest---”

So Clint teaches him the rest, and they have more rum, and somehow they end up arm in arm, screaming the song at the top of their lungs as they twirl around the massive bonfire. Clint keeps tripping over his feet, and Barnes catches him every time, hands steady despite the amount of rum he’s consumed.

Clint eventually ends up on his ass in the sand, grinning like a madman as Barnes grabs another bottle. “I love this song!” he announces, collapsing on the ground next to Clint. “When I get the Black Pearl back, I’m going to teach it to the whole crew, and we’ll sing it all the time!”

“You’ll be positively the most fearsome pirates to sail the Spanish Main,” Clint laughs, knocking his bottle against Barnes’s.

“Not just the Spanish Main, love,” Barnes says, and okay, Clint likes the sound of that word far too much. “The whole ocean...the whole world. Wherever we want to go, we go. That’s what a ship is, you know. Not just a keel and a hull, a deck and sails. That’s what a ship needs. But what a ship is...what the Black Pearl is...is freedom.”

Clint lays his head on Barnes’s shoulder. “It must be terrible,” he says quietly. “Being trapped on this island all over again.”

“Ah well...” Barnes takes a drink. “The company is better than last time. And the scenery has definitely improved.”

“Glad I could help,” Clint says, leaning over to pick up his own bottle. It’s empty, and he scowls at it before tossing it aside.

When he looks back, Barnes is eyeing him with an unreadable expression on his face. Or maybe not entirely unreadable, not with the way his gaze keeps drifting to Clint’s mouth, like he’d possibly like to kiss it.

He’s a pirate, Clint tells himself. He’s a pirate, and an absolute bastard, and you are supposed to be promised to someone else.

Barnes sits up a little and reaches out, wrapping a hand in Clint’s shirt. “Come here,” he says, and Clint goes, because what the hell else is he going to do? His resistance crumbled a long time ago, if it was ever even there in the first place. They’ve been heading towards this moment since Barnes pulled him out of the water at the fort.

Barnes tastes like rum, and smells like smoke and sweat, but it’s somehow the best kiss Clint’s ever had anyway. He lets those strong hands tug him a little more until he loses his balance and falls forward, breaking off the kiss with a surprised noise. Barnes grins and rolls them easily until Clint is flat on his back in the sand. “Don’t worry, doll,” he says, his mouth barely inches away. “I got you.”

“I know,” Clint says, and reaches up with uncoordinated hands, sliding his hands under Barnes’s shirt. “I know you do.”

He doesn’t know what’s coming tomorrow, or the next day, or if they’ll even get off this cursed island at all. But for now, at least, he’s happy to put those thoughts aside in favor of losing himself to this moment.

“Pirate’s life for me,” he mumbles, and hears a quiet huff of laughter.

“Drink up, me hearties, yo ho,” Barnes says back before capturing his mouth once more.

[lizablee]

Choices (Linked Universe) pt 1

Characters derived from the Linked Universe AU by @jojo56830​ (@linkeduniverse)

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

The sounds of the forest seemed to swell in the late afternoon. Light filtered through the canopy, glittering off the damp leaves and illuminating the swirl of sea mist blowing in from the sea. The Hero of the Winds could smell the ocean. He forgot his exhaustion from the long day of walking and dashed ahead of the other eight heroes, shouting into the wind. The Hero of the Wild and the Hero of Hyrule both perked up. Hyrule called after the boy, running forward to join him as his blonde head bobbed away through the leaves. Wild hopped up the nearest tree, climbing to the highest branch.

“We’re almost there!” he shouted down, grinning. The Hero of Legend breathed an exaggerated sigh of relief and threw down his pack.

“Finally. I’ll light a fire.” He kicked away at some leaves to clear a spot. Wild jumped down in front of him.

“Almost,” he insisted. Legend groaned. The Hero of Time clapped his shoulder as he passed, eye sparkling mirthfully. These were his kind of woods – deep but bright, and teeming with hidden life.

Epona grumbled restlessly, swaying her head. The Hero of Twilight stroked her absently. He looked to the sky through the canopy. Golden mist swirled overhead, glowing brightly in the afternoon light against a backdrop of bruised clouds.

The Hero of the Four Sword appeared at his side.

“Looks like a storm,” he mused, fiddling with his tunic. “Maybe we should be looking for shelter.”

A whoop echoed through the trees.

“I saw it first!” Hyrule crowed.

“Well, I’m going to touch it first!” Wind proclaimed, setting off at a sprint. The Hero of Warriors sighed, jogging ahead.

“Hold on, sailor!” he shouted. “Nobody’s running off anywhere until we’ve set up camp.” Wind scrambled to a halt, glancing back sheepishly. Hyrule laughed nervously, tugging at his hair.

The Chosen Hero stumbled over a root. “Psshh,” he chuckled.

“You right there?” Legend smirked. Sky nodded.

“Yeah. Wasn’t watching my feet. Look at the sky,” he said, distracted.

The group wandered out of the forest into a rolling field of shimmering grass. The world opened before them. Legend sucked in a breath.

It was amazing. The sun rested low in the sky before them, a glowing peach coloured orb nestled over dark purple clouds. Gilded wisps rolled in from the horizon. Beyond the slope of the field, a flicker of the ocean could be seen, winking back the sunlight in bright bursts. The group paused, taking in the sight.

“Look at the colour of those clouds.” Sky seemed enamoured. Lightning flickered, almost too far away to see. Wild popped out of the field, humming and fiddling with the slate he kept on his belt.

“It’ll rain soon,” he confirmed. “And storm in the night. There’s a cave down this hill. It’s pretty deep.”

“Is it cleared?” Twilight asked. Wild laughed nervously, his hand floating to his hilt.

“It is now?” 

Twilight rolled his eyes at his protégé. Four smacked his forehead so hard it hurt.

Legend scowled. “And you didn’t invite us.”

“Here I thought you were tired,” Time chuckled.

The walk to the cave took longer than expected, and was more uphill than it was down. By the time they reached the mouth, the sky was lilac, and a soft rain had started to fall. Wild looked to the horizon, stretching his arms. Sky cringed as his joints cracked.

“You know, you’ve got a habit of underestimating travel time,” Four moaned. Hyrule took off his tunic, threw it down and collapsed onto it. “Someone else make a fire.” He mumbled into the ground.

Wind hesitated outside. There was still light in the sky, and the sea was so close. He turned to the group. “I want to head down to the water.” The others threw him pained looks.

“I’ll come,” Wild volunteered, impossibly energetic. “We can fish.” Wind’s face lit up. He turned and sprinted down the hill without hesitation. Wild bounded behind, cloak billowing behind him and hair whirling in the sea breeze.

“Come back before the storm hits, alright?” Sky called after them. Wild turned and yelled something inaudible before tripping over a rock. A vein twitched in Twilight’s forehead.

“How have they still got energy?” Warrior tutted. Time smiled knowingly.

“They’ll sleep very well tonight.”

-

The water was further away than it had appeared. Wind and Wild had to slow down as the field steepened, the slope becoming slipperier with every falling drop. Trees seemed to claw out of the earth, their trunks almost horizontal and their branches bursting out like fingers pointed to the sky. Wind chattered about how the trees grew shorter because the earth had more sand in it. Suddenly he lost his footing, slipping on some loose sand and skidding down the slope. The young hero dug in his feet and dropped onto his back, cringing. A small avalanche of earth and sand proceeded to roll down the hill from his feet.

“It’s a bit steep, but we’re really not far off.” He insisted.

“I know,” Wild said, following him gingerly down the slope. Wind watched as water trickled down the sand, ferrying along tiny pieces of earth.

“It’s too wet to keep going, isn’t it.” Wind looked morose. Wild looked around. The hill to the water had fallen away steeply, ending in a sharp cliff. They could climb down further, but the trek back would be perilous. He sighed.

“It might be dry tomorrow,” he said kindly, shuffling onto the sand next to wind. He leaned back on his forearms and looked to the sky. “In the meantime, this isn’t the worst place to watch the stars rise.” Wind smiled tiredly.

The stars had only been out for a few minutes before clouds swept them away. Wind had dozed off. Wild was just beginning to drift off when a fat raindrop fell directly into his ear. He sat up spluttering and shaking his head. Wind stirred, looking at him groggily. His eyes bugged out.

“WATCH OUT!” he gasped. Wild looked up just in time to see the Stalmoblin’s club rushing towards his head. He dropped backwards onto the sand, feeling the club catch his hair as it swept over. Wind scrambled to his feet, drawing his Phantom sword with a growl. Wild rolled to his feet, staggering away from another swipe. He drew his sword. The moment it left the sheath, it fell apart in his hands. Damn it!

The Stalmoblin roared, swiping clumsily. Wild darted to the side, drawing his bow. He glanced behind him. No room for a downhill retreat, not without ending up in the sea. The Stalmoblin lunged forward again. Wind let out a battlecry and rushed the monster, jumping from a rock and bringing the full weight of his swing down across its spine. The monster howled and split, its head bouncing down the slope and right arm tumbling to the side. Wild aimed for the head, loosing an arrow through its skull. The creature crumbled to the ground, arm still clawing at nothing.

The world fell silent. The heroes looked at each other. “You alright?” Wind demanded. Wild nodded. “Thank you,” he said breathlessly. They stood awkwardly for a moment.

“Did we fall asleep?” Wind said incredulously. Wild snickered.

“The others are going to be pissed.” Wild broke into laughter. Wind giggled hysterically.

“I’m too young to die,” he laughed.

An arrow slammed into Wind’s back. His hand floated to his chest, lips parted in surprise.

Wild dragged him to the ground, standing between the boy and the enemy. Three Stalmoblins had risen silently behind them, their bows drawn. Wild let out a feral roar as he drew his bow, firing off arrow after arrow. He ducked an arrow and caught another with his forearm just inches from his face. He didn’t feel any pain. He got two headshots in before the third Stalmoblin reached him. He lunged for the severed arm of the first creature to attack and wielded it like a greatsword, spinning it wildly. The skeletal arm burst against the Stalmoblin, detaching its head. The blowback sent Wild rolling down the slope, the rocks slick beneath him. He felt open air and scrambled wildly for purchase. He ground to a halt, hands and feet like claws against the cliff edge, his jaw rattling as his chin hit rock.The sea roared somewhere in the darkness below.

The headless Stalmoblin clawed at the air above Wind. The boy was struggling on the sand, reaching for his sword. Wild forced himself climb, leaping up the rocks only to lose traction and skid down, so far that he could no longer see his friend. His body screamed as he pushed past his limits. There was a tree, with a branch just out of his reach – if he could just grab it -  he had to. He had to make it!

He heard a shout and a crack, and screamed into the rocks. He was out of energy. He’d failed.

There was silence, then the sound of approaching feet. Wild felt the weight of his bow on his back. Once the monster crested the cliff, he could jump back and shoot it. Maybe he’d use his paraglider to try and fly to the bay.

Maybe he’d just fall.

“Wild?!” His head snapped up. Wind stood silhouetted against the sky, sword in hand, his shield punctured by a single arrow. His shield. Of course. Shame and relief flooded through Wild’s veins.

“Are you ok?” Wild shouted.

“Are YOU ok?” Wind yelled back. “You’re bleeding!”

“I’m-” Wild laughed so hard he shook. “I’m not going to last on this cliff. I’m out of… I can’t hold on much longer. This is so stupid.” Wind gasped and started frantically sorting through his things.

“Here! My hookshot! It goes on your hand. You can use it to grab onto this.” He slapped the protruding tree trunk. Wild nodded slowly. He’d seen a clawshot in action before, Sky rappelling down from high places with ease. The hookshot must work in a similar way to go up.

A flash of lightning tore through the clouds, illuminating the world for a brief moment. Like something out of a nightmare, the silhouette of the Stalmoblin appeared behind Wind. The boy spotted the shadow, and spun to see the monster loose an arrow. He thought fast, jumping backwards off the cliff and shooting his hookshot into the tree. The arrow flew over his head and into the darkness, falling to the sea. Wind crashed into the cliff feet first, screaming as jarring impact dislocated his arm. He braced himself with his other arm, shuddering.

“I thought I’d got it,” he gasped. “I broke right through the ribcage. It cracked apart!”

“Did you take out the head?” Wild grunted. He felt his left foot slip an inch. Wind cursed.

The Stalmoblin took its time, looking at them carefully. It nocked an arrow and drew its bow slowly, aiming straight for Wind’s heart. Wild made his choice.

He kicked off the cliff and snatched his bow off his back. Time seemed to slow. He loosed three arrows. One burst through the Moblin’s hand, knocking the bow into the sea. One tore through its neck. The final arrow went clean through its skull.

The wind screamed in Wild’s ears as he fell. He reached for his paraglider, but his arms couldn’t take it. He was done.

He barely felt himself hit the water.

-

The party in the cave was restless. They had arrived exhausted, and had rested gladly in the evening, snacking on campfire fruit. When night fell and their comrades hadn’t returned, a few of them had suggested looking for them, but the rain had worsened before they’d made their move.

“They’ll be back before the storm hits.” Sky repeated. “They agreed.”

“I thought that was just Wild tripping over.” Legend mused. “Maybe they didn’t hear you?”

Twilight sat with Time, watching the darkness. The younger hero shifted uncomfortably.

“I can’t track them well in this rain,” he said quietly. Time nodded.

“I don’t like this either.”

“He’s not armed,” Four said suddenly. The others turned sharply to him. “Wild, I mean. That sword at his belt,” he explained quickly. “- I think it was damaged. I assumed that’s why he was being shifty.”

“I thought it was because he got into a fight without inviting us,” Hyrule said.

Warrior stood, drawing his sword. “We’re going to look for them,” he said firmly.

A clap of thunder rang out, light illuminating the world. Epona made a distressed sound, shifting around in the small space. Twilight soothed her, trying to ignore his pounding heart.

“Put that away,” Legend demanded. “No metal weapons. There’s too much lightning.”

The heroes went through their packs, arguing about which weapons could safely be taken outside, removing metal armour and preparing to bear the rain. Four watched as Twilight slipped outside. He exchanged a glance with Time. The old man nodded. Four palmed his boomerang and stepped into the storm.

A wolf emerged from the darkness. Four wasted no time in following. The pair were quickly saturated, following the signs of their friends down the hills towards the sea. Wolfie stopped suddenly, growling.

For a moment, there was nothing but darkness, the howling of wind and the roar of thunder. Four grounded his feet, drawing his boomerang and staring into the darkness, wishing he could see what Wolfie sees.

The wolf whined suddenly, rushing forward. Lightning burst through the clouds, revealing the staggering form of Wind, right hand bracing his left arm. He yelped in surprise, stumbling to his knees. Four rushed forward and caught him by his good shoulder. Wind was gasping for air.

“He’s dead!” Wind gasped. Wolfie let out a vicious growl and disappeared into the darkness at a run. Wind lent into Four’s chest. Four tried to clear the shouts in his head. He’s hyperventilating. Deal with that first.

“Just breathe.” Four said soothingly.

“I can’t!” Wind sobbed. Four ran a hand through the boy’s hair, drawing him close.

“You can. Breathe with me. In… two… three… four… Out… two… three… four…” Wind’s rapid breathing began to slow. He slumped forward.

The flicker of torchlight alerted Four to an audience.

“What’s happening?” Time demanded. Four looked to Wind.

“Explain kid, quick as you can.”

Wind shuddered.

“He fell into the sea. There were… we were attacked. He – Wild fell into the sea. I couldn’t see him.” Wind’s voice turned bitter. “I thought I saved him. I thought we were safe.”

A wolf howled in the darkness. The heroes exchanged looks and began to run to the noise. Time grabbed Hyrule’s arm.

“Take him back to the cave. He needs healing.” Rule nodded vigorously.

“I’ll defend them,” Four promised. Time’s eye met his. He nodded.

“Be careful.” The old man said softly. He disappeared into the darkness.

---

[threadofdestiny]

The opportunities we may take

(The Picture was a comission I odered from a friend. Check her out -> Fantasiamind_art on instagram)

Part 3

Sinbad x OC

Soulmate AU

The image of her

---7 Years later, in the young Kingdom of Sindria---

The atmosphere at the breakfast table was exuberant and cheerful, as the young king sat down in front of his generals, looking a little tired. When his adviser noticed this, he raised his pale eyebrows and looked at his friend with a disparaging look.

"Long night?" Ja'far asked, knowing what Sinbad's answer would be. In response, he only received a hinted smile from the purple haired king, while Sharrkan began to laugh loudly a little further away. "Of course he had a long night, after all we are talking about Sinbad, the ladykiller of the seven seas", the heliohaptian replied, while he wobbled suggestively with his white eyebrows. Generic laughter lit up the hall, while Sinbad just smiled, as he let his gaze wander over the food that was prepared on the table in front of him. Absent, he grabbed some bread and smeared it with honey, before slowly biting in it. As he chewed, his gaze wandered across the balcony to the sea, not listening to the teasing words his generals has to offer him.

 "Are you alright, Sin?", Ja'far asked after a while, now a little worried. Nodding, Sinbad stretched out before looking at the younger man inquiringly. "Honestly, I would like to go to sail this morning. Please delete my plans until noon, Ja'far", Sinbad replied as he rubbed the last breadcrumbs from his fingertips. Ja'far began to protest, when his king raised abruptly, ignoring his younger friend. "Well, then," Sinbad said, as he nodded his farewell, before leaving behind a bunch of confused generals. 

"Whats wrong with him?", Pisti asked, looking curiously at Sinbad's departing figure. Sharrkan shrugged his shoulders before starting to guess, while Masrur silently drank from his water filled goblet as if he didn't care about Sinbad's strange behavior. "No idea, maybe he didn't get laid yesterday after all" "Let him, guys. Maybe he just needs some rest. The last few days had been exhausting", Hinahoho added, receiving a general concordance.

There was something that draws him to the sea today

Not far from the shore of the island, a small sailboat drifted on the quiet southern waters. Leaning against the mast, Sinbad looked over the reflecting surface of the sea, watching as the sun slowly climbed up the sky. 

The calm atmosphere was like balm for his overworked soul. The last few days felt heavy in his bones, but he was satisfied nontheless. Sindria was still young, but so far the country has prospered, proving that the hard work has paid off. His people were happy and motivated to contribute their part to their society. He couldn't have been prouder. However, for some time he felt more and more that something was missing. His days became quieter now that he was driving less to sea. As king, he now resided most of his time in his palace. He had achieved one of his greatest goals. But here he was, as he had been so many times before, focusing on the waves that revealed themselves in front of his inner eye, asking himself where to go.

Carefully, he followed every single strand, looking at the faces he would encounter along the way, just to discover again with a dull pain that lingers in his heart, that certain paths, that had been lost to him in the past, were no longer available. Although he questioned some of his past decisions, he had successfully talked himself over the years that those losses had been necessary to archive his goals. He had got his hands dirty many times before, while already knowing, that he wouldn't have done it for the last time. With each passing day, he became a little more cunning, a little more sophisticated, a little more manipulative... trades he had loathed in others as a teenager. But politics and life experiences changed a human being over the time. He had started to accept this a long time ago.

He was no longer the man he once was

Sighing, Sinbad blinked as he became more aware of his surroundings. With cracking bones, he rose before stretching himself extensively. "I should return to the castle", he muttered to himself as he tried to reach for one of the ropes to get the sails up, when something shiny caught his attention. 

Curiously, he approached the edge of the boat and looked into the clear light blue water. There! Beneath him floated a small round object. Not thinking about it for long, Sinbad pulled his tunic over his head and jumped headfirst into the cool water. With a few skillful movements, he dived to the bottom of the sea, reaching for the round crystal, catching it. Gasping for air, after he broke through the surface of the water, he climbed back into the boat with the mysterious ball in one of his hands. As he slowly settled on the ground and shoved some wet strands out of his face, his gaze wandered to his newly discovered treasure. Surprised, he noticed some Rukh gathering around the object, as they circled it joyfully. Strangely reverently, Sinbad lifted the turquoise crystal in the direction of the sun, while he watched as the sunlight broke on the reflecting surface staining its surroundings with rainbow-colored flecks of light. "Is this a magical object?, he asks himself as he slowly scrubbed over the crystal with his thumb. He then decided to ask Yamraiha, if she could investigate the subject.

Why did his heart start to flutter while looking at the shiny crystal?

The day slowly turned towards the evening, when Sinbad was finally able to sit back into his throne in a relaxed manner. Ja'far was just escorting the last guest registered for today out of the hall, when Yamraiha stormed in. 

Overly excited, she ran towards her king and held the magical object right under his nose, which he had discovered while he had been sailing in the morning. "Looks like you've found something out, Yam", Sinbad said, amused as he watched how she struggled with her words out of excitement. "Sin... This is- This!", she tried to say, blushing furiously. "Cat got your tongue, Yam? Maybe you shouldn't always stick your nose into old dusty books, so you can learn to talk properly to other people", Sharrkan's voice rang out behind them as he entered the hall, followed by the rest of the generals. Yamraiha threw a nasty glance at to the master of swords, but did not pay any further attention to him, as she turned back to Sinbad. "Sin, you were right, This thing is a magical object. I- I've never seen anything like this before", she explained, while she blushed out of excitment again. "Well, is it dangerous?" Sinbad asked curious as his gaze fixated on the object in her trembling hands. "No! No, not at all. It's just. Well... eh", the blue haired magician rambled, before she held it up to him. "You need to let your Magoi flow into the object to activate it", she mumbled, averting her eyes unusually nervous."You are acting weird, Yam. Are you all right?, her king asked with raised eyebrows, as he received the shining, glassy artifact. "Y-Yes just do it, please" Confused, his gaze wandered from her to the cool object in his hands. Trusting his general, he began to summon his magoi and let it flow into the crystal. 

Shortly thereafter, the ball began to glow, while thousands of small specks of light exited from beneath the glass. Slowly they slipped through his fingers and spread throughout the room. The surrounding air began to flicker quietly when suddenly part of the room in front of the king blurred, while the hall was replaced by another scenery. Before his eyes appeared the image of a market street. The typically busy sounds of people trying to do their shopping, echoed in the room while images of unknown people moving through the space. "What the hell?", Sharrkan called out and dodged a woman whose boneless body simply passed through Masrur, as if he was the one that did not exist.

"It's like someone had captured a moment or a memory and stored it into that crystal," Yamraiha explained as she demonstratively drove her hand through the scaffolding of a market stall. Interested, Sinbad leaned forward and looked at his new surroundings, when suddenly a figure appeared next to him, strolling in front of him with a grin. The young man looked in his mid-20s, with blond curly hair that fell wildly into his forehead. His wide orange and sand colored robes reminiscent of a scholar, shifted as he casually leaned against the metal rod in his hands. But what really attracted Sinbads attention was the amulet that the man wore openly around his neck. It had the shape of an eight-pointed star enclosed in a circle of gold. "Well? Does it work, Isaac?", the blonde man asked, as he looked in Sinbad's direction. Surprised, the king leaned back into his throne unaware of how to react, when a bodyless voice rang out around him. "Seems like it. We'll have to look at the results later", said the other males voice. "You're really awesome, man," the blonde praised as he curiously bent closer to Sinbad and looked at the object in his hands. Then the purple haired king realized that the other person had to hold the turquoise ball, just as he was doing. Suddenly, an arm shot into the picture and pushed the scholar out of the way. "Get out of the picture, Kunar! No one wants to see your stupid face," the voice roared, before the environment began to move slowly forward, signaling that the bearer of the magical artifact seemed to walk. Slowly, they strolled past the individual richly filled stalls. Colorful fabrics, Mediterranean fruits, spices and other goods were laid out on the counters, while interested buyers flocked to the shops. Sinbad had never seen this place before, but the architecture reminded him slightly of Balbadd. "You're an ass, you know that? Hey, don't you listen to me? Don't ignore me, you moron!" sounded Kunar's voice from the side. His companion, however, simply remained silent and continued his way until a large square opened up in front of them.

 Here, where the houses were no longer close to the roadside, it was recognizable that the city seemed to be located in a valley. Far away, one could see the schemes of a high mountain in which a building seemed to have been incorporated. "Wow, amazing", Pisti squealed, while she looked enthusiastically at her surroundings. The large spacious market square was surrounded by more stalls. In the middle was an ornate well, which pumped clear water into the air. Some children laughed, running around the fountain, playing catch, while the adults went about their business. The blonde men, Kunar, ran back into the view and pointed grinning at something outside the shot. "Oi, look who we have there, if that's not our favorite pair of siblings!" he said, raising his hand in greeting. The image panned slightly to the side and fixed on a group of children who had gathered around two youths. A brown-haired boy, whose hair was tied together into a ponytail, noticed Kunar and Isaac and also raised his hand to salute. The other person, a girl, who was mostly covered by the boy, crouched in front of one of the children and gently stroked through it's hair. As the two men approached the newcomers, the young brunette stepped aside and revealed the girl's profile. Sinbad's breath stopped as he watched her brown braided hair fall over her slim shoulder. Realizing that he knows those features, he watched with a wildly beating heart as the girl stood up, slowly turning to him. Turquoise eyes seemed to be looking at him as a gentle smile spread on her lips.

There she stood. Seven years later.

"Good afternoon," she greeted the two men as she folded her hands in front of her body. Mesmerized, Sinbad looked at the girl in front of him, while losing his sense of reality. Thousands of thoughts shot through the young king's head. How could this be possible? This could not be true. It's been years since he saw her image for the last time. Years since she disappeared and here she stood and smiled in his direction as if she were actually standing in front of him. It was her, right? Yes, he had no doubts about it. She was the girl whose paths had always faded behind her. The girl he wanted to met in person, but had never dared to do so for fear of what she would've triggered in him.

His mouth dried, as he recorded every detail that this scene had to offer him. A basket filled with various flowers hung in the bend of her arm. The hem of her rose-colored dress swayed playfully around her ankles as she took a few steps towards him. Some strands had detached from her braid and framed her face in windswept curls. Her eyes captured the light of the midday sun and reminded him strongly of the magical object, which he clasped in his hands. She was the most beautiful young woman he had ever seen. 

As her glowing gaze turned away from him to greet Kunar as well, Sinbad realized again that it was not him she had approached. "What are you doing?", she asked curiously, while his brother stepped next to her with interest shining in his eyes. Sinbad barely listening as the blonde man explained how his companion wanted to try out his new toy, before Isaac took the opportunity to explain how the object worked. The king was too enchanted by the presence of the girl. Her melodic laugh ripped him out of his trance while she bent in amazement to take a closer look at the crystal. Carefully, she stretched her fingers in Sinbad's direction, letting them pass over his fingers, or rather over the object in his hands. With his breath stagnant, he had to painfully realize that he had expected the feeling of a touch, which naturally didn't happen. She wasn't really there. This was just a recording of her. 

"A mixture of light and sound magic? This is truly amazing!", she breathed as she stood upright again. For a moment, her gaze became absent as she lifted her face to the side and appeared to listen to something only she could hear. None of those present seemed to find this gesture strange as they continued to talk until she turned to Isaac again and pointed at the object with slightly blushing cheeks. "Uh... may I....may I borrow the crystal for a while, Isaac?" the brunette asked nervously while her two visible companions looked at her curiously. For a moment, all parties remained silent as the girl insecurely pressed her fingertips together. "Of course, Salome. You can have it", Isaac replied in a calm voice, before the image began to flicker and the scenery disappeared.

Her name was Salome.

Silence spread in the room for a few moments, before Yamraiha's tentative voice broke through it. "T-There's more to come," she breathed, embarrassed, as she stealthily squinted at her king, who still looked forward in a captivated way. 

Once again, the surroundings flickered before a new scenery was built up in front of them. The outlines of a bedroom began to materialize. In one corner was a large four-poster bed adorned with colorful silky fabrics. On the shelves of the tables and cupboards stood several vases filled with various flowers, while in the background a balcony door stood open and let in a light breeze that made the curtains swing. The vision of the brunette girl appeared, squatting in front of Sinbad. Her fingers hovered over the turquoise ball as she made sure it was doing its purpose. 

The young king swallowed heavily, as he watched her retreat and slowly sinking to the ground on a pillow in front of him. As she angled her legs to her side, she took her time to place her skirts in a neatly order. Nervous she bit down on her lower lip as she slowly lifted her gaze and stared straight up to Sinbad. Silence reigned for a few seconds, which was so overwhelming that it could've been cut through with a knife. His heartbeat drummed so loudly in his ears that he thought that everyone in this room could've heard it. "W-Well... Hello, uh", the girl began to speak, as she put her hands flat on her lap. "When you see this, y-you... well, then you're probably already king, aren't you?", she breathed as she closed her eyes for a moment, as she pulled her eyebrows together, over-thinking her question. 

A surprised uproar came from the generals, while Sinbad bent over in a spell. "Yes... Well, congratulations on making it, I think. Your own kingdom. What do they call it again?", Salome asked, with a thin smile on her lips, while she seemed to focus on something in front of her. "Sindria?" "What the actual f-", Sharrkan gasped as Sinbad raised a hand to indicate him to be quiet. 

"Uh, wait, maybe I should explain that? I know about it, because the Rukh told me about you. I can hear them, you know?", the brown-haired girl began to explain as she thoughtfully placed a hand under her chin. Some thin gold bangles she wore on her wrist limped against a wider one as she moved. "I don't know exactly how it works. I am not a magician, but the priests as well as the rukh's themselves said that it is King Solomon's will that I was blessed with this ability", Salome spoke, as she shrugged her shoulders. "Since I was a child, they told me that at some point of my life, I will meet the new singularity. The rukh said that Solomon wishes for me to aid him at some point... The reader of the waves... I don't know why, but deep inside I knew that they were right. Well... at least that King Solomon wished for this link to happen", she breathed as she gazed to the side. For a moment she remained silent, thinking about how to proceed. 

The next words, which came from her lips, stabbed him deeply in his heart. "While time elapsed I realized...You didn't want to meet me. You... Uh..You saw it, didn't you? Those lines? But you decided not to follow them. I w-... well...", she hesitated a moment, before she proceeded again: "It's fine. I think I can understand it...", she continued to speak as she sadly lowered her gaze. Trembling, she clawed her fingers into the fabric of her rose-colored dress. Her thin voice echoed through the room. With each word, it felt as if a sharp knife was being pushed into his chest. But why? Why did he feel so lost when he listened to the words that this girl spoke?

"I mean, why should the man who held fate in his hands, let himself be influenced by it? The rukh said that the reader of the waves can choose his own path, that he is able to bend fate to his will. But even if he can see the path as well as the people he is going to meet on its route, he cannot predict what will happen along the way", Salome said admiringly but with a sad undertone as she looked up as if to gaze at Sinbad again. "For someone who experienced such freedom, this strange  connection we share must be feeling like chains, am I right?", she asked the space above the crystal, while she waited in vain for an answer. With a glassy look, she abruptly whispered, "I wish I could have seen you at least once" His lips trembled as he registered her words. "It's kind of ironic, isn't it? I've been told so much about you. Who you are. Who you are going to be. What... you are going to accomplish. But I don't know what you look like. And you... who can see the people in front of his inner eye, those who might cross his path, certainly saw me standing there and yet... you just don't know anything about me."

Like two sides of a coin

Someone could've heard a pin dropping on the floor, as the people paused their breaths, not daring to make a noise, while they listened to the young girl's speech. Shocked, the king's generals looked back and forth between Sinbad and the person sitting in front of him, when a sobbing breath broke the silence. Desolate, Salome hided her face behind loose brown strands. Her body began to tremble as she tried to suppress her tears. Torn inside, Sinbad reached out to her, just to grasp into the void.

"I-I am sorry", she sobbed, annoyed by her own tears. "You've experienced so many bad things. You've lost so many people, haven't you? I-I just wish I could have been with you, at least to tell you that everything will be fine. I wish I had the chance to-," she pressed, unable to control her breath. Desperately, she rubbed her eyes with her palms as she tried to keep talking: "But I can't leave Dalmasca. I can't just come to you. We both should have wanted it. The priests wouldn't just let me go. Not if Solomon's writings say that you have to come for me! To prove that your feelings are honest", She cried bitterly as she rubbed her wrist wildly across her cheeks. Sinbad, who could no longer bear the sight of the crying girl, turned his gaze away. Her words shook him to the marrow of his bones. Regret spread in him like acid as he frantically tried to keep a cool head. The words she spoke put the generals in shame, knowing full well that these lines were intended only for their king to hear, but Sinbad did not even seem to register this, as captivated as he listened to the girl. Deep breathing, Salome tried to calm down again.

"B-But please, you don't have do regret anything. You've made your decisions and that's fine. You're going to take it very far. I know that!" she breathed, now a little more calmly. Slowly, she raised her gaze again. Her eyes still shone from the tears she had cried, but there were none that formed in the corners of her eyes any further. Carefully, she raised her hands in front of her chest, folding her fingers, a gesture he strangely knew was typical of her. "You know, just recently the rukh whispered to me that you are on your way to the dark continent. I wonder what you're going to experience there. Did you already find a way to shape your kingdom?", she said, a smile on her lips. "You will go your path and no matter what comes, the rukh will accompany you," she tried to assure him. Hesitantly, she straightened up a little, as her fingers reached out to the crystal in his trembling hands. "I wish I 've had the chance to look into your eyes, just once. Just to tell you that you should remain true to yourself. Please... Please stay on the bright side, okay? You are powerful. There will be people out there who want to take advantage of this. You can shape fate according to your will. But watch out, never let yourself be misted by it. Arrogance comes before the fall, so... please take care of yourself!", Salome whispered emphatically. Her fingers that rested on the object looked as if she had placed them in his hands. 

As if she knew instinctively where she had to look, her turquoise eyes looked imploringly into his golden ones, begging him to listen. Sinbad swallowed heavily and nodded as if she could actually see his answer. They remained in this position for a brief moment, when the noise of a knock against a door ripped Salome out of her stupor. 

"Salome, are you in there?" a muted voice pierced through the wood, as the girl hurriedly fumbled around the crystal. "Yes, one moment, please," she shouted, before her image suddenly disappeared. The tiny lights flickered, as they slowly flowed back into the magical object. 

Depressed silence spread through the room, as everyone tried to comprehend what they had all seen. None of the generals dared to say anything when Sinbad slowly let himself sink into his throne, intensely looking at the treasure that rested in his hands. Breathing loudly, the king opened his lips: "Where is Dalmasca located?", he asked. When none of the generals answered, he looked up to them. Spartos, who hadn't said anything until then, moved slowly. "The island of Dalmasca is somewhere in the southern sea between Kou and Balbadd, but..." replied the red-haired knight haltingly. Sinbad's eyebrows raised inquiringly:"But?" Spartos seemed to be searching for the right words when suddenly his visor proceeded:"Sinbad, Dalmasca was the island on which the Vulcan erupted inexplicable a few years ago. There is nothing but ruins to find," Ja'far said, with a sympathetic gaze on his facial features. An awkward silence spread in the hall as Sinbad turned his pained gaze away, looking out of the windows. His fingers dug into the armrests of his throne as he squeezed his jaw together. Suddenly, the king's facial expression changed, rousing resolutely.

"I want to see it with my own eyes!"

[conceptstage]

Trickster’s Gambit

{CHAPTER ONE}

AO3

Coming to Nicodranous may have been the best decision she’d ever made. Second best, perhaps. Spending the last of her money on this meat pie filled with bits of bacon was currently making a very convincing argument to be number one.

Beau leaned back against the metal railing as she ate, pausing to suck some of the sauce off her thumb before it could roll down her arm, shivering slightly when a cold breeze wafted off the sea behind her and sent a chill up her bare arms. She looked back at the ocean as a wave crashed against the stone behind her and just watched the moon ripple in the reflection on the crystal blue water. She’d never seen the ocean until this morning and now she wasn’t sure she could ever go a day without being able to look at it. She spent a moment, as she finished the first bit of warm, cooked food that she’d had in almost three days, daydreaming about a little house on the oceanfront, waking up to do her morning exercises on the warm sand, a beautiful woman standing with her feet in the water and a silk nightgown whipping around her from the breeze and looking at Beau with so much love that-

Something smacked Beau hard in the chest. Normally she was more alert than this, more agile, more careful, but she had been distracted by the warm food in her stomach, the calming hum of the waves beating up against the stone wall, and the thoughts about what exactly she wanted that fantasy lady to do to fantasy Beau later tonight to see it coming. She nearly fell backwards over the railing but grabbed the metal tightly to keep herself on her feet. She looked down at her chest where she’d been hit and found an unripe tomato, wet and mushy and running down the front of her Cobalt robes.

She looked around quickly and only saw three other people in her vicinity. A young couple (a half orc and a half elf walking arm in arm, too wrapped up in one another to see what was going on with her a few away) and an older human woman with arms full of grocery bags who looked just as shocked as Beau felt. The older woman turned away from Beau and looked down a nearby alleyway. “How rude, young man!” she shouted at someone Beau couldn’t see. 

Beau took off down the alley, pausing at the end just in time to see a green cloak disappear around the right corner. “Hey!”

Beau dashed down the alleyway, confident that she could catch him. She was the fastest initiate in training, it was basically impossible to escape her on foot. She flew around the corner and screeched to a stop.

The tomato thrower was standing right around the corner, waiting for her, and she stumbled and nearly fell or crashed into him but managed to catch herself in time.

He was tall, taller than the average human, maybe an elf then. She couldn’t make out any features except for a few stands of red hair that fell out from his hood but his entire face was in shadow. The light from the street lamps glinted against his teeth as he grinned and reached out, wearing a purple cloth glove that covered his arm up to his elbow. In her shock and confusion Beau could only stand there, still as the dead, when he ‘boop’ed her on the nose.

Sneering, she reached up to smack his hand away but all she met was thin air. She hadn’t even blinked but he was gone, faded into the ether or swept away in the night air. “What the fuck?!” she exclaimed.

Beau blinked and looked around quickly. She’d come out the other end of the alley on a dim lit cobbled street, shadowed slightly from the tall, five story building at the end of the road that blocked out the moon from view. It was empty except for some quiet murmuring from inside the houses that lined the sides and the clatter of plates as the families inside sat down around their tables for dinner.

Beau refused to let down her guard, keeping her shoulders tense and her eyes flitting around for danger as she stepped quietly down the route. She looked down the alleyways but there was no sign of the prankster who had attacked her. 

She jumped at the sudden sound of laughter and followed the sound up to a window on the top floor of the tall building she’d found herself in front of. She thought at first that the laughter had been directed at her but then quickly realized that it was unrelated to what had just happened. She looked up at the open window and could see flickering fire light from inside. Just before she was about to look away and continue her search for the man in the green cloak, a shape passed in front of the window and she felt her heart stop. A young woman, probably slightly younger than she was, came to stand at the glass and looked out at the sea over the roofs across the street. She didn’t seem to notice Beau in the dark street below and Beau didn’t mean to stare but she was suddenly certain that she’d just caught sight of the most beautiful woman in the world.

She was a blue skinned tiefling with cropped blue hair that was pinned up in curls and dark horns that curled around her pointed ears. She was in a peach nightgown with lace and frills and there seemed to be dried paint dotted up her muscular arms. She was smiling and Beau could tell that she was speaking to someone else in the room but her words were just a low hum that she couldn’t make out.

Beau hadn’t meant to stare and suddenly felt creepy. She was about to turn and leave, give up on finding the man in the green cloak and focus instead on finding a safe place to sleep, but the blue girl moved away from the window and was quickly replaced by a man in a green cloak.

Beau’s eyes widened and the man looked down at her and waved briefly before pulling the window closed. “That motherfucker!” she hissed. She looked around quickly for an entrance to the building and saw some light around the corner, which she followed, still grumbling quietly to herself.

She street that she stepped out to was busier than than the other areas she’d been in the city. A dozen people of varying races and ages were strolling down the street, pausing to glance inside the open door of the building at her side but ultimately continuing on their way. A cart rumbled by and the diver, a middle aged gnome woman, nodded at her in a tired, half-hearted greeting. She couldn’t see the ocean from this street but she could hear the screeching of birds and the slow roll of the tide so she couldn’t have wandered too far from it.

There was light and music drifting out of the open doorway and as she moved closer she saw a tall minotaur standing beside it, a bouncer probably. As she walked forward, she suddenly heard a sultry voice start to drift out of the door, flowing like honey over the cobbles and into the street. A young man that had been walking by froze and looked inside the door, transfixed on the sound, until another man bumped into him from behind and shoved him forward.

“Don’t stop in the road, child,” the other man said in a deep, rumbling voice. “Have you never heard the Ruby sing before?” He huffed. “Tourists.”

Beau frowned. The Ruby? Who was the Ruby? She started towards the front door, and couldn’t even get a glance inside before the Minatuar’s large, furry hand clamped down on her shoulder.

He breathed heavily out through his nose. “2 silver cover,” he said gruffly. 

Beau only had a single copper, not even two of them to rub together. “Yeah, I’m not here for the show, man,” she said, picking up his hand by a single finger and removing it from her person. 

He looked her up and down and frowned. “I highly doubt that you are here to stay the night.”

“Rude,” she said, but she didn’t argue with his assessment. “There’s a man here that I’m looking for.” She gestured to the tomato that was swiftly drying on her clothes. “I was down the street and he threw this at me and I followed him here. He’s inside, I saw him in one of the upstairs windows.I just want to talk to him, promise.” She did not want to just talk to him but she doubted that ‘I just want to beat his ass to a bloody pulp’ would manage to get her in the door. “I’ll be in and out in five minutes.”

The minotaur seemed to believe her but didn’t relax. “What did he look like?”

“Tall guy, green cloak, that’s all I saw.”

“No one like that here,” he grunted. “Get lost.”

Beau sneered. “Hey! I know he’s here, I fucking saw him in that fucking window!” she pointed to the side of the building.

“There’s only one entrance and no one in a green cloak has passed me.” He grabbed her by her shirt and tossed her back. She nearly crashed down onto the street but caught herself and managed to remain on her feet.

“Hey!”

“Go away before I call the Zolezzo.”

Beau growled under her breath but looked around to find everyone in the street staring right at her, including a man in crownsguard armor who had a hand on his sword. Beau rolled her eyes and shoved her hands into her pockets. “Fine! For fuck’s sake, someone assaults me and I get hassled by guards? Typical.” The minotaur took a step towards her and she shrugged and turned to walk away. “Yeah, yeah, I’m going.” She started back the way she’d come, around the side of the building to the dark, empty street. She looked up at the window where she’d seen the man in the green cloak and the room was dark.

Beau sighed and turned away, sneering down at her dirty shirt and wondering if she’d be able to wash it off in the ocean tonight without getting hassled.

When she slept that night, laying down in the sand with her back against the stone wall and her rucksack held tightly in her arms, the woman in her dream, standing in a nightgown with her feet in the water, had blue skin and dark horns.

[sweetcatmintea]

You sink

Flash Fiction Friday! (But not officially. If I have time, I’ll do the official prompt when I wake up)

This is an attempt at a creepy ocean story as requested by @kainablue! It’s supposed to be more an atmospheric dread style of creepy but I don’t know if I landed it XD (If you want some real dread and aw, watch this video I found while looking for inspiration) I hope you like this Kat! Thanks so much for all of your support!  💜 💜 💜

I hope you all have fun in the water! Feedback is super appreciated ^u^

Prompt: This beautiful picture and the genre Creepy

Words: 1600

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You’re falling.

Falling asleep. Falling through clouds. Falling into water. Salt licks your lips as you shield your sun blinded eyes, blinking bleary colours into shapes. Cool ocean water soaks through your pyjamas, brushing your back and ensnaring your outstretched limbs. Float like a starfish. That’s what your mother had told you. Your steady heartbeat is easily drowned out by waves gently crashing against themselves, rocking your floating body. Your eyes have cleared. The sky above an endless blue spotted haphazardly with white wisps. The sea below and endless blue spotted hazardously with mysteries. Even so, you are calm. The ocean has always been a place of peace for you.

You sink.

Back, then shoulders, then cheeks. The water consumes you, drawing you to its core one lapping wave at a time. You relax into the motion, letting yourself be taken. A natural reflex, you take one last gulp of air as the water closes over you. Noise distorts immediately, liquid filling your ears and pressing against your skull from within. You open your eyes, immediately squinting for the oncoming sting. It never comes. You open them gingerly, slowly widening them enough to look around as you continue the descent. Light sparkles at the surface, glittering and beautiful as the ripples capture it in a dance. You consider turning over, enticed by the allure of watching where you’re falling to. But you stay on your back as you are. You don’t know how deep the water is here. You’re not sure you want to.

You continue to sink.

You’ve been holding your breath for so long now. Your chest aches, longing to release its now unwelcomed guest. You don’t want to. Something tells you that it will be okay, to let go. The shuddering in your lungs exacerbates the urging. A string of air escapes you. You panic, just for a moment. There are no bubbles. You release more air. No bubbles at all. You let it all out, deflating yourself as far as your body allows. A tentative inhale. You can breathe.

You continue to sink.

A low, haunting note splits the water’s rumble. Clicks and whistles melding together in an other worldly melody. A currant rolls you off course, affording you two overwhelming sights at once. Below you, deep, deep, below you, there is nothing but murky darkness. Beside you, all around you, there were giants. Gentle grey and white whales gliding as though unaware of their unbelievable mass. You weren’t prepared for their appearance. The sight captures your breath and your heart. They arc and curve in playful rings, so much more agile than you ever imagined. It doesn’t look like they notice you. Not even the smallest tempted by the curiosity of the mouse in their midst. You feel safe, if not a little lonely.

You continue to sink.

Fish swim around you, flickering more colours than you can name. You are engulfed in schools of tuna bigger than your dog. You dare not touch them. No matter how much you want to trail your cold fingers across their smooth, silvery scales. It’s not worth the risk. Sunlight filters through the water in rays. But it’s getting darker. You keep your mouth clamped shut, saltwater having already proved its character against your tastebuds. Your hair tickles your skin, moving in time with the ocean.

You continue to sink.

Sharks slide out of gloom, joining you as they stalk through the blue. They come so close, you can feel the power of their bodies as they pass by. Their black eyes never linger on you. They don’t stay long, the prey is elsewhere today. You try to avoid looking down. It makes your stomach roll. Alone as you are, there is nothing around but water. You strain your eyes. As above, so below. Nothing but ocean. You are so very small. A grain of sand in the wind. There is nothing you can do to change this. Somewhere, in the world you once knew, people are praying for rain. There are deserts, so savaged by the surface, the inhabitants have not even a drop of water in their memories. It is hard to imagine. For you, here, right now, water is all there is. Miles and miles of endless sea.

You continue to sink.

Finally, a semblance of broken infinity greets you when you peek over your shoulder. Long stretches of dark stone column rising out of the nothing. Sand dusts the impromptu sea floor while skitters of creatures are gone too quickly for you to identify. It is too far away for you to reach. Your limbs are heavy with the weight of the water, the weight of the clothe. You aren’t sure you even remember how to move them. You watch as the slabs grow larger as you draw closer. If you were to move, your descent, as slow and calm as it is, is still too fast. You’re too small to reach the shelf before you sink below it. It disappoints you that there are no corals there. The sun is too week to feed them. There is little more than grey, white, black, and blue. So much blue. You pass the top of the stone, sinking lower and lower. Its massive figure looming over you as you go. In some time, you pass another ridge jutting out below the shelf, then another, and another. Each taller than you, taller than anyone you know. Three steps down and your house was dwarfed. They spread further, the deeper you sink. A god’s stairway stolen by the ocean. It’s getting much colder. You shiver but can do little to soothe the ache spreading through your hands. The shadow of the stones saps the heat prematurely from your surroundings. Your jaw is cramping from your determination to keep your lips sealed. You want to let out a shuddering breath into the water but the needle prick on your mouth is warning enough. If nothing else, you can keep your teeth from stinging.

You continue to sink.

In the dim light, you begin to make out the outlines of still, grey, pillars. They are pebbles to the stone fading beside you, whales to you. Sperm whales standing solemnly in the deep dark nothing, a graveyard of living tombstones. They don’t move as you pass, continuing their sombre vigil. You wonder what they are trying to accomplish. You want to tell them you understand. To convey in some meaningful way that you can see them for what they are. You can’t. Because you don’t.

You continue to sink.

The blue, long since navy, then velvet, fades darker still. Soon enough you can no longer see the shadow of the heavenly stairs, nor the outline of the silent whales. You might as well have fallen into the sky, drifting deeper into space than man has ever dreamed of. It’s vast. It’s endless. You are alone. Not even clouds of cold breath to keep you company, to remind you that you exist. Is this death? Your thoughts echo in your head. They’re too loud noise has no place here. Pressure wraps around you, making its presence known against your skull. It doesn’t hurt. The pain passes through you easily, hinting at what it could be, given the chance. Too cold to feel, your limbs are detached. Only the pull of the water to remind you they are yours.

You continue to sink.

Maybe you found the seafloor hours ago. An unknowing passenger in your own skin, you’re not sure. You feel like you’re sinking, if nothing else. Like the illusion of spinning as you fall asleep. You don’t know which you would prefer. Movement darts overhead. The water presses against you in response. A pinprick of sunlight blinds you once again. You squint, trying to make sense of the glowing orb. To have something smaller than you was a foreign feeling. Your eyes struggle to adjust. It is too bright. The light begins to dance, bobbing and wiggling. A shimmer of scales. A fish draws closer, mesmerised as you are by the light. Snap! The fish is gone. A mouthful of broken glass shards closes millimetres from your eye. There is no controlling the shudder convulsing down your spine as you leave the dead-eyed angler behind.

You continue to sink.

Long stretches of isolation. There is nothing but the tiny you in the vast, unending liquid night. You wonder how anything else can exist. How there can be anything other than ocean.  If you are lucky, flickers and glows temporarily accompany you. If you are unlucky, you see their faces.

You continue to sink.

You no longer lament your loneliness. Pale forms shift around you. Big. Glassy eyed. Mostly teeth. There is purpose to their movements. They brush past you. Never touching, but teasingly close. Milky pupils settle on you. The creature’s mouth curves into a natural grin. It looks through you, staring beyond what you know. Beyond what you could hope to understand. You feel small in a whole knew way. A terrible way. The long, long, long bodies writhe around you. Achingly precise, they circle your arms, your torso, your legs. Weaving lazy figure eights into your space. They glue their awful, unseeing, all seeing, eyes into yours. They don’t touch you, only grin. Rows upon rows of too many teeth so white they glow despite the ink. You want them to go away. Paper frilled gills laugh at you. Deep, deep, floating in the void, there are things so much worse than loneliness.

You continue to sink.

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[firebirdsdaughter]

Random Writing Tidbit I’d Like To Make a Formal Apology to MosaRex…

… But also how’s that for a long title?

So… MosaRex really came out as kinda a jerk in this… And I feel really bad, but also I managed to get this out… So… Sorry, dude?

Also Cannoli might be a little shaky on the characterisation in this, and I apologise for that, too. DX Only my second time trying to write him, and the first trying to write from his point of view, so…

The timeline on this is a little hazy, too… It’s gotta be when Cannoli’s still being standoffish, but when Banba has defrosted some more, so… I dunno.

Another mandatory moment of silence for the horizontal line.

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There was a brief moment of shock when he hit the water, but he recovered quickly. Kanaro was of the Sea Tribe, drowning wasn’t something he did. Soon he had his bearings again, and he kicked a few times to steady himself in the water; then a flash of dark in the corner of his eye reminded him he wasn’t alone—and that the other person didn’t have his experience with the deep ocean. Then he got a good look at them, and realised the situation was even worse.

Through the blur of the water, he could see a thick smudge of dark red issuing from the wound in Banba’s abdomen, thinner trails drifting from his lips, spreading swirling tendrils. He was hanging still in the water, his only motions the effects of the currents created by their fall. It was also a safe bet that Black’s ghostly paleness was more than water in Kanaro’s eyes or a trick of the refracting light. He had no doubt that, under normal circumstances, Black could swim just fine—but even the best swimmer would be at risk while badly wounded and unconscious. And bleeding.

Kanaro’s heart shot into his throat as it suddenly clicked. There was blood in the water. Lots of it, too, a thick smear off blackish crimson, pooling out from the other Ryusoulger’s wound like a massive, deadly flower, spreading through the water around them. As if this situation needed to get any worse. On instinct, he kicked again, propelling himself away—then stopped, treading in the water

Kanaro. MosaRex’s voice echoed in his head. Something is coming. If there is a frenzy, not even I can help you.

He saved my life.

That was his choice. You are not responsible for his decisions.

Black was drifting further away from him, more blood pouring into the water. Even he began to feel the vibrations of something approaching them. If he tried to take Banba with him, there would be a trail for whatever predators that were coming could follow—but if he didn’t… He’ll die.

Not necessarily. MosaRex’s words weren’t so much cold as factual; and it was technically true, but…

But why had Banba taken the hit for him? Black didn’t like him, had made no secret of that—but he hadn’t hesitated at all to throw himself between Gold and danger. Kanaro wracked his brain for the last time he’d seen Black react so quickly—and all that came to mind was…

… For them? He remembered Kou and Asuna’s eager expressions when asking him to join, and Melto’s slightly calmer one at their elbow; Touwa had been more curious, but friendly enough. Most of all… They had been kids—innocent, earnest. And Black had hung back, watching all four of them like a mother hawk might watch its chicks, and watching him like he was a potential threat.

Most likely. Agreed MosaRex. Their gentleness would likely make them distraught if you were to die.

If him dying, someone they hardly knew, who had mostly just been standoffish to them, could upset them so much the one who watched over them so fiercely would risk himself for someone he disliked to prevent it… How would they react to losing the one who acted so much like their guardian?

Kanaro! MosaRex interrupted his thoughts again. Hurry!

More vibrations rippled through the water. Whatever was approaching was coming fast, and Banba had drifted even further away from him; he had to make a decision. Fortunately, there was no longer a choice—if he left Black here, he would never be able to look his own younger sister in the face again.

Twisting around, he kicked harder, propelling himself towards the other Ryusoulger, and was quickly within arm’s reach. Seizing Banba’s arm, he pulled Black over to him through the water, tucking an arm around the other Ryusoulger’s waist. With as much strength as he could, he turned back and sped away.

He didn’t stop until he found land, and had dragged both himself and Banba all the way out of the shallows, arms hooked under Black’s shoulders to pull him along. The other Ryusoulger’s wound was still bleeding profusely, leaving a trail of deep red across the sand. Once he had them far enough away from the sea that there was not even a remote possibility of anything crawling out after them—foolish, perhaps, but he wasn’t going to take chances, they had been lucky to make it to land at all—he freed his arms and dropped to his knees in the sand beside Banba, clumsily cupping Black’s  face in his hands.

“Hey… Hey!” But Banba’s eyes remained closed, and not even the slightest flicker of even unconscious reaction showed on his face. Kanaro’s breath caught, and he fumbled for a pulse with shivering fingers, even ducking his head to press an ear to Black’s chest to see if he could hear a heartbeat that way. “Come on… You can’t die… You can’t leave them like this…”

He is perfectly capable of dying like this.

Shut up! He felt the Kishiryu mentally recoil from the sharpness, but didn’t care—especially not when, somewhere deep within Banba’s ribs, he heard the weak beating of Black’s heart. He snapped back up, clamping one hand over the stab wound in the other Ryusoulger’s abdomen, the other fumbling for his Changer. “He’s alive!” Without thinking, he found himself grinning despite their circumstances as he bumped the Changer against his leg to hit the call button. “Kou!”

“Kanaro!” Red’s voice sounded bright and enthusiastic—it hurt more than it should have to know he was about to ruin that. “You called! We were-”

“Later!” He surprised himself again by sounding almost as commanding as Banba did when he shouted for the other four to break up whatever bickering they had devolved into—but he couldn’t dwell on it. “There’s no time right now.” He took a deep breath, forcing his voice to stay level. “Banba is wounded. I can bring him back with MosaRex, but it’s bad. Be ready.” He hung up before Kou could reply. We need to go.

Very well. Was the reply. For a moment, there was silence—then, with a tremendous roar, MosaRex burst from the water, shaking off a few times before sliding forward into the shallows, head down. But I take no responsibility if he dies en route. I warned you taking him was a risk.

Whatever. Kanaro snapped back, bending down to leverage one of Banba’s arms over his shoulders, and heaving Black up while keeping one hand pressed to the wound, and set about dragging him over to the Kishiryu. We can discuss it later. With some scrambling, he managed to claw his way up to MosaRex’s back, dragging the other Ryusoulger up with him, rearranging so that he could keep pressure on Banba’s wound. For now… Let’s just take him home. He felt MosaRex’s discontent in his mind, but the Kishiryu said nothing more on the subject. Pausing just a moment to make sure both the Ryusoulgers were secured, the mosasaurus turned and sped away with another thunderous roar.

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What is coming in the water? I dunno. I’m pretty sure there’s carnivorous sea life at least somewhere in the waters around Japan. Not sharks, maybe, but if you got enough tuna… I digress. The point isn’t complete marine biological accuracy. Esp since Cannoli is aquaman and would probably not actually have been in any danger.

Shhhh. Stop finding plot holes in your own writing, Fire! DX