#going to the ocean and looking at seaweed in the water would fix me

[anticidic]

Many a moons we have spoken,

Stories told with our emotions,

Passing glances and sunshine eyes,

Tell me the thoughts you picturize?

"Every song, every sunset, it all just reminds me of you."

“You and me. Together.”

He was young and it was summer when they were down by the water, hand-in-hand. Dazai looked distant, casting his gaze out to the lonely sea with such longing that it smelled strongly of salt and felt like the seaweed slime washing ashore. Chuuya got down on one knee and cupped his hands around sand. Warm. The grains slipped from between his fingers the same way opportunities and the concept of them slipped from their future. The past. The present. And the future. Infinite possibilities condensed into a single moment beneath the sun with a flock of seagulls circling above, searching for a place to roost. The waters lapped at their feet and soaked their toes.

He held Dazai's hand a little tighter. Because if he didn't, Dazai might drift out to sea and be lost like all the other sunken ruins and forgotten treasures down, down at the bottom of the ocean. The way Dazai looked at him and the way Dazai felt—felt so right and looked positively brimming with adoration by evening but by day poisoned with envy—Chuuya ached. Envy for what he couldn't be, but it mattered not to Chuuya. He cared not for what Dazai could never be. He loved what was.

Then, he caught a whiff of cinnamon: reminding him of some bygone spring when they took a dive. Chuuya surfaced first with a gasp, sucking breath into his lungs and coughing out water. To his left, nothing. To his right, bubbles on the surface. A reflection of messy brown curls. Then a hand on his ankle.

It pulled him down under.

Chuuya fought to keep his eyes open underwater, but the salt stung. Almost too much. Dazai held a finger to his mouth. Be quiet. If he could speak. And then a playful smile with hidden intent played on his lips and Chuuya understood.

When they resurfaced, they heard the faraway calling of Chuuya's parents. The king and queen. Wanting their prince back at home. Safe and sound. Where he belonged and where Dazai did not and never would. Dazai was a worker at the end of the day, in suit and tie with tray in hand going around asking members of royal families the same, persistent question: "Refreshments?"

The sun tickled his cheeks with a pleasant warmth. This was their little secret, after all. The same secret they planted and protected from the snow and flooding rains. The secret that blossomed and became soft as rose petals and embraced them in longing. The longing smelled of apricot among the reeds. Of dozens of little fireflies half past dusk. And they were gazing up at a starless sky on a hill with the grass beneath them, bodies touching.

“Chuuya!”

This time, his father called. They always called for him, but never for Dazai.

At the end of the day, Chuuya and Dazai were one. Two entwined souls torn apart by day that always found their way back to one another after sunset.

Dazai was the world by day. Needed. With great expectations upon his shoulders that he sometimes tired of them all. But he lived for watering the garden beneath Chuuya's balcony if only to listen in on the prince humming the quietest melody whisked away on the wind.

By night, he became nothing. An exhaled afterthought once the king and queen put their heads on their pillows and the lights went out.

And by night, he became Chuuya’s everything.

“Forever?”

Home. There was a time when Chuuya wouldn't question that word. Home was here, where his mother and father were. But now? Everything was different. Draped in absence, void, memories of the past. He would never see his mother again fixing her hair at the dressing table. No one browsing old books in father's study. And in the hallways, there was only the spirit of the carefree child who now tried to find himself in a new reality.

“And ever. And ever.”

[iheartyoimiya]

2. BUBBLES FOR BRAINS

( sea salt, yang jungwon )

the next morning, jungwon woke up early, the heavy scent of salt and dampness still lingering in the air. the storm had passed, but the damage was undeniably everywhere.

his grandfather had already made breakfast - eggs and toast with a side of salty bacon - and nodded toward the back door as he handed jungwon a plate. "go clean up the backyard after you're done eating. we can't leave it like this."

jungwon sighed, but nodded, shoveling a forkful of eggs into his mouth. "yeah, i know." he leaned back, gazing at his duties from afar.

after finishing, he put his plate in the sink and headed outside. the backyard looked like a disaster zone. the storm had tossed everything around. there were pieces of driftwood, fishing nets, and plastic debris scattered everywhere. the air still felt thick and heavy, a leftover chill from the storm that made jungwon wish he’d grabbed a jacket.

his sandals squelched as he walked, the mud sticking to his soles with every step. a large piece of wood was wedged against the side of the house, and the yard was littered with broken bits of seaweed and algae. even the old wooden deck had warped slightly in places.

and let’s not talk about the pool, because if you were looking for an ocean copy, it was right here in the backyard.

jungwon grabbed a trash bag and started picking up the mess. it felt like a losing battle, the debris just kept coming. he winced as he saw a few fish washed up in the mud, struggling to breathe. he wasn’t great at dealing with this kind of thing, but there was no choice. his grandfather would send him to do something equally as disgusting.

as he picked up a large plastic bottle, he heard a voice. "hey, jungwon!"

he looked up and saw jay walking over, a lopsided grin on his face. "looks like the storm really wrecked the place."

jungwon sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. "yeah. shouldn’t you be cleaning at your house though?"

"there isn’t much to do, besides, my dad hired someone for it already.” jay stepped closer, picking up a fish from the mud and holding it up, its tail still flapping slightly. “well, hey, at least we’ve got some fresh fish for lunch," he said, smirking.

jungwon rolled his eyes, shaking his head. "get that thing away from me or leave," he pushed jay out of the way.

jay shrugged, tossing the fish back into the mud with a laugh. "why are you mad now? is it still because of eunj-."

jungwon turned to him before he could finish his sentence. “don’t even mention it, i’m serious, i’ll really ban you from ever coming here again.”

jay raised his hands in surrender. “i’m just saying, forget about her so we can have fun alright? it’s our last summer before we go back to the city to different universities and most probably won’t see each other,” he walked towards jungwon, who tied the bag securely, before grabbing a net to clean the pool.

"yeah, i know," jungwon nodded, his eyes still fixed on the dark water. his mind was elsewhere, lost in thoughts he didn’t want to deal with right now.

jay observed him. this summer was supposed to be the one we’re jungwon finally confessed to his crush, but it all went downhill when he saw her days ago at a restaurant with the head lifeguard, holding hands.

jungwon had insisted on talking to her about his feelings anyway, but that hadn’t gone well either. to say the least, she hadn’t even remembered his name when he approached her. she’d laughed it off and humiliated him in front of her friends like it was nothing, and he’d walked away feeling smaller than ever.

jay shifted his weight, his gaze softening. "listen, won," he said quietly, "that little voice of hers inside your head? drown it, 'kay? don’t let her mess with your head like that."

jungwon’s shoulders slumped as he stared at the water. he didn’t say anything, but jay could tell he was still thinking about it. it was always easier to bury stuff than face it head-on, and jungwon was no exception.

jay clapped him on the shoulder, trying to break the silence. "we’ll go to the mall later. buy some stuff, get something to eat. it'll help, trust me." he gave him a small nudge, trying to pull him out of his thoughts.

jungwon finally looked up, giving jay a faint smile, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes. "yeah. maybe," he muttered, and then his gaze went back to the water, the dark shape still moving beneath the surface.

"you gonna keep staring at that thing, or...?"

"uh..." jungwon hesitated, his attention split between the water and jay. "it's kinda... weird, right? like, what if it's still a shark? or something else?"

jay rolled his eyes playfully. "won, it's probably just a fish or something. or some junk that got caught in the current. but hey, if it is a shark, we’ve got… a cookie, right?" jay pulled a cookie out of his pocket and held it up with a grin. "i’m pretty sure sharks love cookies."

jungwon snorted "yeah, i’m sure they do."

jay rolled his eyes, and threw it inside the pool as bait. the two of them stared at the water for a few more seconds, waiting to see if the shape would move again. but then, just as suddenly as it had started, the movement stopped, leaving the water eerily still.

"guess it really was just some junk," jungwon muttered, his mood lightening ever so slightly.

"told you so," jay said, his grin widening. "or maybe it ate the cookie. you’ll never know." he laughed. punching jungwon playfully.

“i bet i know what it was.”

the two froze, slowly turning their heads towards the new voice at the other end of the pool, who definitely wasn’t there before.

"i should think it was a mermaid," you said casually, taking a delicate bite of the cookie in your hand, allowing the unfamiliar taste to linger on your tongue. with an elegant, almost imperceptible motion, you raised your tail just enough for them to see, its shimmering scales catching the sunlight.

the two looked dumbfounded, and one of them tried pinching themselves to see if they were dreaming. they definitely did not just see a beautiful mermaid on the edge of the pool.

you glided toward them with the fluid grace, the water parting around you as you dived in, sending a splash of water in all directions as your tail shined, glittering like a jewel beneath the surface.

jungwon moved closer to the edge of the pool, peering down into the murky water, though he couldn’t see anything through the cloudy, disturbed pool.

you then came out of the pool once again, stopping right in front of him. “please remain calm, do not scream or panic,” you softly said, remembering the words from a safety manual that had appeared at the bottom of the sea.

“uh huh…” the cat-eyed bot slowly nodded, looking pale. “y-you’re a-”

pursing your lips, you nodded, urging him to continue, but his breath got caught in his throat. “i see we will have to take this slow, i am a… mermaid…” you pronounced the word deliberately, allowing the weight of it to sink in, as your tail swayed gently in the water, catching the light. their eyes flickered between your face and the fin, unable to settle on either.

“okay, okay, okay, okay,” jungwon said, taking a deep breath, and gulped. “w-what are you doing, here?” he asked.

jay shot him a look, clearly not thinking it was the best idea to talk to you.

“very long story short, the storm,” you smiled. “but i bet you already knew about it, did you?”

“wait- you did that?! this?!” jay exclaimed, motioning at the whole mess with an incredulous face.

you shook your head, “no i did not, i would never do that. i was just… caught in it. right place at the wrong time, they say.”

the two were about two speak, but a voice interrupted. "jungwon! how’s the clean-up going, son?"

the boy named jungwon panicked, his eyes wide. before jungwon could respond, jay shot you a frantic look. "hide!" he whispered, pointing toward the water. "under the pool, now!"

you rolled your eyes but did as instructed, slipping gracefully back into the water with barely a ripple, your tail disappearing beneath the murky surface. they watched as you sank out of sight, and jay whispered to jungwon, "keep him busy. we can’t let him know about her or whatever that was."

jungwon nodded quickly, rushing toward the trash he picked up. "yeah, yeah, i’m coming!" he called, trying to sound normal. "just, uh, a little slow with the clean-up... give me a minute!"

but jungwon’s grandfather came out of the house, and started scanning the area. “hm… good. make sure it’s all cleared up before lunch." with a grunt, he turned to jay and gave him a nod. "hey, jay. good to see you, kid. your folks doing alright?"

jay gave a quick nod in return. "yeah, they’re good. thanks, sir."

with that, jungwon’s grandfather turned and started heading back toward the house, grumbling something about checking the garage door. "remember," he called over his shoulder, "don’t leave any mess around here."

as soon as his grandfather was inside, jungwon let out a deep breath, turning to jay with wide eyes. "that was close," he whispered, shaking his head in disbelief. "he was about to catch us, for sure."

jay laughed quietly. "man, you’ve got to learn to relax. no one’s gonna find out anything if you stop panicking."

jungwon sighed, glancing back at the pool. "yeah, but... this whole thing is crazy. what now? how are we supposed to explain..." his voice trailed off as he thought about you still lingering nearby, but there was no movement in the pool.

"uh... where'd she go..?" jungwon dropped the bags of trash, looking around in confusion.

just then, they heard a soft voice, faint but unmistakable, coming from the direction of the shed. "hey, jungwon and jay, was it?"

both of them froze, turning to the small shed at the far edge of the yard. the door was half-closed, and they could see a shadow moving behind the small window. it was you, walking around.

"you’re in there?" jungwon said, stepping closer, eyes wide. "what are you even doing in there?"

"it is... complicated," you replied, your voice carrying through the still air. "but i could use some help." there was a pause, then you added, "this is a bit embarrassing."

jay glanced at jungwon with a raised eyebrow. "you gonna let her just stay in there?"

jungwon bit his lip, hesitating for a moment, but then nodded. "we have to help. it’s... not like we have a choice." he walked toward the shed and slowly opened the small window at the top. as it creaked open, the view through the glass made both of them freeze in their tracks.

you were inside, submerged to the waist in the shed's shadow, but your upper half was bare, covered by your now-dry hair. both boys stared at you, wide-eyed.

"uh... you... you’re not wearing anything," jungwon stammered, his face turning a deep shade of red.

you looked up at them through the window, an amused glint in your eyes. "well, it just so happens mermaids do not need dry clothes, or clothes at all," you said with a smirk. "i prefer not to be seen like this, so could you help me out?"

both boys stood still for a moment, unsure of what to say. finally, jungwon shook himself from his trance. "there should be some of my old clothes from surf camp in there. you can look around... maybe something will fit."

you nodded, disappearing into the shadows of the shed. "i will be quick."

moments later, you reappeared outside, now dressed in a long-sleeved aquamarine shirt that hung just above your knees. the fabric shimmered faintly in the sunlight as you stepped out, looking a bit more at ease but still carrying an air of quiet grace.

"better?" you asked, turning to face them with a raised eyebrow.

jungwon let out a quiet breath, clearly relieved. "yeah... but uh, the sleeves..."

“what are sleeves?” you asked, looking down at the dress, not knowing what the two were talking about.

“the- uh, the things- hold on…” jungwon stammered, and then walked over to you. he gently grabbed the sleeves of the shirt and, with careful hands, tied them behind your neck, avoiding any contact. he was still cautious, unsure of what might happen if he touched you directly. "that’s much better," he muttered, his voice barely audible.

you smiled, watching him retreat back to jay. "well, thank you, you."

“it’s… nothing…” he whispered awkwardly.

you gave a small turn, still getting used to having human legs and walking around. it was awkward at first, but not as difficult as you had expected. the sensation of standing upright on two legs was strange, but you adapted quickly.

jay nudged him playfully, trying to mask his own embarrassment. "well, it’s definitely an upgrade."

jungwon sighed, glancing around the backyard, eyes flicking nervously toward the house. "yeah, but... we need to hide her, somehow."

!

but that was the first thing they didn’t do. and you three were at a place called ‘mall’ searching for clothes.

“this is ridiculous,” jay groaned, rolling his eyes.

never in a million years did he imagine he’d be wandering around a mall in summer with his best friend, trailing a mermaid who could somehow turn human.

you wore sandals too big for your feet, courtesy of jungwon. you had learned that the pool you ended up in was his, in his beach house.

he seemed kind, kind enough to let you use his money.

and so you were jumping from store to store, still not knowing what to buy. you could offer him gold in return or even pearls, but you doubted it would be the same value to him as the little plastic thing he used to pay for things.

“are you going to pick something?” jay spoke. “you both have bought useless things and i’m hungry.”

you and jungwon both turned to him, your chat being interrupted by jay.

“yeah, seriously, we need to get you some clothes until you figure out what to do or where to go.” jungwon nodded, looking at you.

“but the clothes you wear appear rather uncomfortable. is there not something more befitting?” you inquired.

“yeah, there’s the women’s section… why have you been looking at men’s clothing?” jay asked, his brows furrowing in curiosity.

“i’m looking at the clothes that look like the ones you have on,” you trailed off, going into another store.

three hours and many fashion shows later, you took a couple of things, something’s they called dresses, shoes and clothes from a store they refused to go inside with you, apparently it was something you wore under the clothes. it seemed unnecessary to you, but they knew more about humans that you.

jungwon and jay were carrying all the bags, as you stepped out of the mall, letting the summer breeze hit your face, a new sensation you were dying to feel everyday for the rest of your life.

the place was so calming, as palm trees swayed from left to right, the air carrying the smell of something sweet and hundreds of flowers decorating the whole place.

you didn’t miss the ocean at all, the human world was much more interesting, they had machines they drove around in, and a device they used to call each other, similar to a conch.

“is that good?” jungwon asked, taking you out of your trance, and making you glance down to the drink he had gotten for you.

you brightened, sipping from the straw again. the sweet flavor danced on your tongue. “it is so, so, so good! i mean, i do not know what a lychee is, but i think i love it,” you smiled.

it felt strange to have someone from the opposite gender genuinely ask about you. the only person who had ever done that was the eccentric old merman living on the outskirts of the kingdom, but that didn’t really count.

jungwon looked like he was actually interested in your responses, and he truly was. he doubted he’d ever see a mermaid again, and go to the mall with her, just like he’d do with any of his friends.

he smiled so warmly at you, and laugh at every thing you pronounced wrong, then correcting you.

a loud honk then came your way. as a white machine stopped right in front of your three, some girls sitting in it, with objects covering their eyes.

you didn’t know why they did that, until you tried to look at the sun yourself, and almost got blinded.

the girl who was behind the round object that drove the car took them off, and looked at your new friend, jungwon, up and down, then at you at jay.

the girl behind the wheel removed her sunglasses and gave jungwon a once-over, then turned her gaze to you. “is this your girlfriend now, yang jungwon?” she asked, her tone laced with sarcasm, making you sense she wasn’t being friendly.

“what do you want, eunji?” jungwon replied, stepping in front of you as if to shield you from her. “you can’t possibly humiliate me more.”

“i just can’t believe how insensible you are! you just confessed your love to me days ago and now you’re running around with some other girl, huh?” she said, getting out of the white car, strutting over to the group.

eunji was the classic mean girl, always ready to ruin your summer. she wore tiny heels and even shorter shorts, pulling off the look with an effortless confidence that only added to her intimidation.

“eunji, leave her alone,” jay warned, pushing you behind him.

but eunji seemed unfazed by the fact that jungwon could like someone else, she was only fixated on how stunning you were, compared to her. “who even are you?” she sneered, invading your space. you didn’t step back.

you had no idea this was how an angry human looked like, or a jealous one of it is. if anything, you were curious about her and why she acted the way she did.

“my name is y/n, princess of aq-" you stopped yourself forgetting you were supposed to be a normal human, “i meant, my name is y/n aqualis, full name. it is a great pleasure, and you are?” you placed your hand in front of her, expecting to do something called a handshake.

“ew, get your paw away from me,” she said, swatting your hand aside. “who do you think you are, talking all high and mighty?” she snorted.

“excuse me?” you let out a laugh, “i am afraid i do not understand, paw?” you asked, truly clueless.

jay and jungwon, who were watching from the side, still carrying all of your bags, looked terrified at the scene, they knew that it never ended well when other girls crossed eunji, but you seemed like someone who wouldn’t understand if they told you to leave it.

“yeah, that’s right, some advice your you, never touch me with that dirty paws of yours, princess,” she spat, shoving you back, as her friends laughed behind in the car.

you gasped and blinked in confusion, then understanding she was referring to your hand, most probably, and also understood she was insulting you.

but you never let it go when mermaids spoke to you like this, so you wouldn’t let a human, who didn’t even know you, treat you and your new human friends this way.

you nodded at her, faking innocent, and spoke, “i know not why your head if so full of bubbles that the only entertainment you have is to try to make fun of others, but some advice for you, eun-ji…” you then took a sip of your lychee drink, and spat it at her.

her friends all gasped, as the water made contact with her shirt, leaving a huge wet spot, most likely ruining it.

jungwon and jay gapped, stunned at what you pulled of, expecting anything but that.

eunji nearly lost it, screaming as she jumped into the car and sped away with her friends. leaving you waving goodbye, and still wondering however did a car worked.

the two boys approached cautiously, clearly afraid to say anything that might earn them a splash of lychee drink. so you broke the silence first.

“you confessed your love to... that?” you asked jungwon, your face scrunched in confusion. “that human must have seaweed in her head, or maybe a crab controlling her brain. crabs can be pretty mean…” you pouted.

before, whenever spoke of eunji, ill or good, he’d always daydream about her, but right at the second, his attention was on you, and he was anything but mad.

“yeah, i think i did. crazy, right?” he laughed, and for the first time, he had denied eunji.

“i think that’s enough eunji for you both, i want some ice-cream so we’re leaving before that drink gets in someone else’s shirt,” jay stepped in, dragging the two of you away along the sidewalk to head back home, as you and jungwon laughed along at what had happened moments before.

TAGS: @jwonistic @garrdenwon @laylasbunbunny

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[grimm909]

Deep In The Sea - Part 1

Hey guys! I don't have much to say here, not to mention that I will be answering your requests as soon as possible. I'm sorry for those who wait, but I had made a promise to myself that I would do, first of all, a horror and drama story where Jade would be the main attraction. Sorry for the delay and please don't give up on me! I also want to apologize if there are any English mistakes. As I said in my first post here on tumbrl: English is not my native language. Happy reading~  WARNINGS: female gender reader, violence, yandere, obsession, non-consensual, mind break, horror, drama, mutilation, mention of pregnancy.

The creature's eyes glowed with fervent attraction, which you thought were like a child's after being given a new toy. That same heterochromatic gaze met two other eyes fragmented between fear and fascination, but equally deep as the ocean. Those eyes were too fixed to dare to look away. Those eyes were yours.

Apparently attracted to you, little by little the creature's slippery tail began to wrap itself around your body, similar to a seaweed that simply wraps itself around things, without actually squeezing them. It was almost like a preventive measure to not let you get away from him, preventing any attempt by you to escape – which you thought was a possibility.

The penknife still present in your hand — firmly attached to your fingers as the only weapon you had in case you tried to defend yourself against him — was something seen and admired by the merman, as it had been exactly the object that had saved him until a few moments ago.

And of course, you.

[...]

It should have been just another normal day of swimming for you. As a marine biologist, sometimes your job allows you to explore and catalog the different types of fish in the sea.

You don't know exactly when this desire to explore the intriguing and dangerous ocean started, but you know that's what you wanted for your life. The emotion, the adrenaline, and how enchanting the beauty of the things that existed below the water was not something that made you tired.

You also usually had the help of your friend and co-worker, who was responsible for steering a small speedboat, to take it to the middle of the ocean. Sometimes you took turns swimming, as it was not a good idea to leave your only means of transport floating in the sea. 

Really, nothing had been much different from that. You put on your wetsuit, waved goodbye to your mate, and dropped into the ocean with a waterproof camera slung around your neck. 

You dove as far as you could to the bottom of the ocean, for enduring the cold and high pressure down there was not something a human could do without the proper equipment. And his were good, but not the best. 

Nevertheless, for someone with affinity and custome, trying to go more than a hundred meters deep was reasonable. As far as you knew, the longest record ever broken by a person was 320 meters. But honestly, it's not like you're too interested in beating other people's records, if they weren't your own. 

So you were tempted to go deeper than ever before. Checking his blood pressure gauge and what oxygen he had left, he realized that a longer round trip would be possible, as long as there were no interruptions along the way. 

However, it was from this decision that things started to take another turn. 

So, well, your fault. 

You've successfully managed to bear the huge weight on your back and take some great pictures, which you use to take some daily notes later on. However, just as you were about to swim back to the surface because of the oxygen, a tiny high-pitched sound was captured by his ears.

You thought at first that it might be a whale, dolphin, or any other creature that made relatively loud sounds like that. However, this hypothesis was soon dismissed on its own when the sound again resounded in a more strangely shrill and profound way, that even the earplugs could not rid him of the momentary headache caused by the noise. 

This was unlike anything you had ever heard, recognizing that it was not an aquatic animal ever cataloged by man. You were extremely tempted to want to know what it could be, perhaps even discovering a new species of sea creature and being able to photograph it. 

Curiosity overcame your logic and you tried to guide yourself through the animal's "screams", noticing that as you swam deeper, the sound increased. Darkness began to cover more and more the entire route, due to the lack of sunlight. And you were forced to turn on the flashlight housed above your head, so you could see what was before your eyes. 

The vision was of a tortuous path with many stones, but his biggest concern was the excess of mesh nets present in the environment and other types of garbage improperly discarded, which continued along the way to where the source of the sound was. 

You checked the oxygen in the cylinder one more time and realized you had to race against the time. The movement of your feet and hands became more erratic, yet quite painful due to the pressure of being even further down than you could have anticipated. 

By the increase in speed, in the distance you noticed a strange sea shape, which for you exactly resembled an eel. However, eels didn't "scream" that way. They didn't even look as huge as this one. 

You became more cautious as you knew the good reputations of these creatures and taking an electrical shock was not in your plans. Then he tried to approach more slowly, until he noticed that the creature's shape was starting to get even weirder. 

You hid behind a rock and turned off your flashlight so the animal wouldn't see the light, then turned on the camera. Your intention was to zoom in as far as you could and try to take the picture right there in the darkness, through the flash.

Squinting your head a little, you positioned the camera towards the animal and in a quick fraction of a second, the light emerged through the click of a button. You get your photo and quickly go back into hiding, analyzing the image. 

It is not completely clear, let alone sufficiently illuminated, but the shading of the animal is quite noticeable and it would be possible to make an analysis of which species is. That is, if you knew any sea animals with arms. 

Yup. Damn arms. 

Aside from an apparently human head, of course. 

Is it possible to choke under water, breathing through a tube? Well, you almost did. 

You eyes widened in absolute surprise and her hands that were still holding the camera trembled with anxiety. 

You thought that, like every child, it was always normal to hear and even be interested in fanciful stories of mermaids and mermen. But the fact that somehow these creatures could be real stirred you in a strange way. To make matters worse, none of these stories portrayed the mermaids as friendly beings, but rather as ship sinks and fishermen killers. Especially, if you disregard the entire "The Little Mermaid" movie. 

However, you are abruptly kicked out of your own thoughts when the sound made by the creature is even worse than before, causing your eardrums to ache due to the distance of only a few meters between the two of you. 

No way. That's ridiculous. It should just be a misunderstanding on your part. It was all so dark in the image, that simply assuming it was a mythological creature without even seeing it with its own eyes, was evidently gross neglect on the part of the animal that was screaming for apparent help. Yes, animal. 

By this reasoning, which you tried to tell yourself was the only absolute truth, you put your camera in place, turned on your flashlight again, and came out of your makeshift hiding place to complete your objective. 

However, for a second surprise that day, in less than a few minutes, you realized how foolish you were, to think that your eyes had been deceived with the truth demonstrated through a blurry photograph.

It was real. The stories were really true.

For a few seconds, time stopped for you and your body remained stagnant, as if you were just some object floating in the water. The image before your eyes would be etched in your mind for a long time, both for the stunning beauty of the creature and for how deadly it looked, but especially for the deplorable state in which he found himself. 

His neck and wrists were tied to a large mesh net, linked to a generous amount of rubbish tangled around a rock. It was impossible to escape that trap caused by the illegal disposal of men, if the stone was not obstructed or if those wires were not cut. And the fact that the merman was struggling to get out of there didn't help, it just made the situation worse so that he was more and more trapped. It was like he was in quicksand, how funny. 

However, time didn't stop for him, who noticed your presence precisely by the light that the flashlight emitted, directing his attention to you and immediately growling as a probable warning. 

Soon, it all happened just too fast for your eyes to follow. One instant you were fine and the next a dull ache shot up the side of your face, so that totally unprepared by the force of the blow, you fell to the sand. 

His goggles ended up cracking a little on one of the lenses, perhaps from the fall or the attack by the merman's tail — who else could it have been and what? Furthermore, the creature's tail was the only thing it wasn't attached to, enabling it to attack anything that came dangerously close.

Afraid, you quickly sat up and crawled across the sand to get away from the monster, then raised your hands in the air and shook your head frantically from side to side, trying to indicate that you weren't there to hurt it. This didn't seem to have the slightest effect—probably because those signs didn't mean shit to him, or he wasn't a rational creature as mythological stories always suggested—whereupon the merman was now stretching his arm and tail toward him to try to reach you. Like anyone in this situation, you feared for your life, but you weren't angry at the creature for its hostile actions and you knew there was no way it could hurt you, precisely because it was trapped. 

Actions speak louder than words, however—even though there was this tremendous irony that you couldn't even speak because you were underwater, just as you seriously doubted the merman would understand you if he could—and you pulled out of the pocket of your latex coveralls a switchblade, grabbing a piece of net on the ground that luckily was close to you, and cutting it with extreme ease, then pointing at the blade and then at the net it was tangled up with, signaling that he wanted to help you. 

The merman somehow seemed to understand you bad mime, relaxing his muscles and stopping his growling, yet still giving him an extreme look of distrust. Surely, one wrong move with that object and your neck would be broken. You were just lucky this time, because you weren't close enough to take the full weight of that monster's tail in one slap.

A third time, you checked your oxygen and realized that you would now not only have to be careful to help him, but very quickly. However, fast and careful were two words that couldn't always keep together. 

You thought a little about getting close. Is it ok to untie it? Until a few moments ago, he seemed quite willing to kill you. However, you stopped to once again analyze the situation he was in. If by chance his movements in his hands and neck were not entirely restricted, he might even be able to cut the net with his teeth or sharp nails. And if he wasn't released, he might starve to death or some other predator even bigger than he would make him a snack.

You forced yourself to swallow your own fear. If I were in his shoes, I would also like to be released. Maybe he wouldn't kill you in retribution, right? 

You got off the ground and swam a little closer, breaking the safe distance from your body to his. You looked into the merman's eyes, trying to convey serenity and confidence, then looked away at the hammock around his neck, deciding that first you would free him from that agonizing suffocation he was probably feeling. 

You lift the pocketknife in your hand and carefully begin grinding the line of his neck, breaking out in a cold sweat at the prospect of accidentally cutting it. If that happened, he'd get a little cut and you'd get a broken neck. Haha, it would even be funny, if it wasn't for a cruel possibility. 

Taking longer than you'd expect, when the last line of mesh on its neck is removed, the merman looks strangely relieved and you almost swore you saw him heave a sigh. Inside, you smiled at it and then proceeded to cut the net from one of your wrists. 

When the job was done, the creature raised its webbed hand and pushed you away with a light shove to the chest. You were slightly startled by this, but then realized that he would finish the job himself, using the claws of his free hand and sharp teeth to instantly rip apart that net, much faster and more aggressively than you had done with the knife. So that was it, he was on the loose. The merman massaged his neck and wrists, relieving the likely pain he was feeling. His face, no longer nervous, looked strangely indifferent and serious, as if he had stepped in mud and soiled his shoes—that is, if he had been on land and had feet.

Then he hovered over his person and approached with a single, brief flick of his tail. At that moment, the apathetic face gave way to a brief curve of lips in a polite smile. 

And you didn't like it.

[...]

So, here was your person. Facing a potentially dangerous and definitely carnivorous creature. However, now was not the time to remember the events that had stupidly gotten you into this situation. 

After all, you were starting to run out of oxygen in the cylinder. You widened your eyes and lifted your free hand and pointed at the tube in your mouth, then up, then at the tube again. Repeating this sequence more than three times so the merman could understand his despair. 

You shook your head from side to side and touched its slippery as well as sticky tail to push it away. That bad choice only made him tighten around you even tighter, not enough to hurt, though. You thought you could use your pocketknife to hurt him, but from the look of it, he was just holding you there out of sheer curiosity, with no pretense of attacking. 

Desperate, you gave him the best pleading, desperate look you could muster, trying to let him know that you really needed to go. And all he did was just widen his smile. 

Oh no. 

From then on you swore you would die, but it was then that he surprisingly proceeded to unroll his tail from his body. The merman swam dangerously closer until his face hovered inches away from his own, causing his eyes to widen and a nasty shiver down his spine. 

His big, sharp, smacking hand touched your face, then tenderly caressed the side, in the same spot where it had hit before—and which now was a huge red smear. You noticed: he was apologizing through this act of affection. 

In another situation, you would find this very cute. But not in this one, certainly. And it didn't help much when the creature decided to break the distance, opening its mouth to lick the entire reddened expanse, with a tongue you found to be extremely long and strangely soft. 

Is this supposed to be really cute? Now it felt more like psychological torture.

You felt a tightening around your waist, this time realizing it was his arm. And it wasn't long before the merman's other arm came around his back as well. You had no idea what he wanted, however you understood when the merman began to swim up, with you in his arms. 

Apparently, he had the vague idea that you definitely wouldn't survive if you stayed there much longer, so he was giving you a ride. He was so fast! So fast that even the pressure made her head ache, needing to hug him back so she would feel less likely to end up having a stroke. You would never have had a chance to escape him if he wasn't being so friendly. Killing and eating you wasn't in his plans, apparently. 

And lucky for you, in less than five minutes, the sea started to be less dark and brighter, indicating the brightness of the Sun and how close you were to the surface. 

The oxygen time in your cylinder runs out completely, but unbelievably coincides with the time your head finally emerged from the water. You hastily take the tube out of your mouth and suck in a significant amount of air. 

How stupid of you to take such a risk, as you had taken today. 

The feeling of pure relief makes you forget for a moment that you are still facing and in the arms of a mythological creature, resting your head on the merman's shoulder and breathing heavily. 

When the world in your head finally seems to be at peace, you take your distance from the merman and this time he lets you go. Lifting your goggles, you once again stare into the creature's eyes, this time without fear. 

"Thanks." 

You thanked him and smiled, gracing the merman's ears for the first time with your thin voice, even though you were uncertain if he would be able to understand it.

He then mutters something totally incomprehensible to you, however you imagined it was his "disposition". 

You start looking around the sea, identifying to your right a distant image of what looked like a speedboat. 

Immediately turning your back on the creature without saying another word, you proceed to swim towards your only mode of transport. 

Distant enough, you turn your head back one last time to confirm that the creature was still there and that for a moment, none of this was your imagination. And to her surprise, he was. However, showing a terrifying, sharp-toothed grin, exclusively for you in delight or gratitude. You wouldn't be able to identify it anyway. Maybe you didn't even want to. 

However, you are polite to smile again—however forcedly—and give him a brief wave of your hand, thus saying goodbye to him definitively and returning to swimming without looking back. 

You hoped never to see him again.

[...] 

Telling what happened to your friend was not a complicated task, because it would be really difficult for him to believe his story. For sure, he would just think that the water pressure started to affect his head in a negative way, making him notice things that weren't there. 

And by those thoughts, you omitted the truth. Even if you had that blurry photo intact—and showed it to prove the integrity of your words—your colleague would momentarily be surprised, but then quickly dismiss the possibility of being a merman by saying you were confusing seaweed with arms. Sea shadows are never to be trusted, he would say. 

Extremely skeptical he was, just as you were. Although, now, maybe you weren't as skeptical as before after seeing that sea monster in person, touching it and still hugging it. 

You decided to frame the creature's photo in a photo panel you had in your room, to always remember that certain "things" really existed and to remember that the sea floor might not be as friendly as you thought it would be. 

You almost died, idiot.

Still, it didn't shake you as much as it should have, for after a week since your encounter with the merman, you continued to do your usual job at sea. 

You didn't find him either and didn't risk swimming too deep, fearful that she would see him again or find another creature no longer as "generous" as the first. 

However, fate seemed to have other plans for you. 

Cruel plans.

Thanks for reading this far! But if you're frustrated that you don't have any smut, know that part two will be full of it. I had to split it due to how long it was. So next time be careful with the depth!

You don't want to drown, do you?

Eventually, my work will also be posted on Ao3, in the form of two chapters. So, don't be surprised if you find him there.

See you~💙

[mollydsails]

March 22 - Molly D has been in St Augustine for about a week. The ICW travel from Vero was 3 days. Molly D left Vero a week ago today. Our first stop was Titusville.

We were able to get one of 3 available moorings in Titusville. Experience has taught me that the mooring pennants here are gross, with seaweed, slime and marine growth all along the pennant. I know this, so I dress accordingly. Foul weather pants and coat . Check. Sailing gloves for palm protection. Check. Rubber soled boots to prevent slipping on slime. Check. I know it may sound like overkill for picking up a mooring line, but trust me it isn’t! After the one and only time getting my clothing slimed and slipping on slime, I learned how not to dress. I had luck on my side this time, as I was able to hook the mooring pennant just below the ball float. When I hoisted the pennant close to Molly D, I was able to feed our mooring line through the thimble and secure it to a cleat without having to touch any slime!!! Victory!

Can’t tell me that this pennant isn’t gross.

Titusville moorings are first come, first served. Pick up an empty mooring, note its number, and phone the harbormaster. Easy peasy and inexpensive at under $19 a night!

We were in Titusville on the night of a rocket launch from Cape Canaveral. Front row seating!

Rocket trail in the sky

On Saturday Molly D made her way north for our next overnight stop in Daytona. Weekends are NOT the ideal time to travel the ICW. Weekends are busy with boat launching ramps, fishermen, pleasure boaters, jet skiers, and parties on sand bars. The ICW from Titusville to Daytona is narrow in many spots and can become congested with boat traffic going in all directions. Friends of ours traveled the route from Titusville to St Augustine a day ahead of us. They dubbed this travel the “asshole Olympics”. I understand that term. Molly D anchored just north of the twin Seabreeze Bridges in Daytona. The anchorage we favor can handle 3 or 4 boats at most. That night there were 3 of us in the anchorage all respectfully distant from each other. No drama.

Daytona anchorage

On Sunday we made the trip from Daytona to St Augustine. Another beautiful day. Another congested day on the ICW. Our route this day took us through some shallow water areas. Our friends clued us in on areas that they found “skinny” and the route they took to avoid going aground. Extremely helpful. Navigation on this day was tense for the Captain, but Molly D has an excellent Captain and she didn’t even come close to running aground. On this day we passed under 2 fixed bridges that had more than 65’ clearance! A rare occurrence! It sure helped to have low tide conditions.

Look! A rare sighting of over 66’ of clearance!

Molly D has been hanging out in St Augustine since Sunday.

On a mooring in St Augustine.

In all our stops in St Augustine, we never knew that a Publix Supermarket was a short dinghy ride north of the municipal Marina. Thanks to Dan and Marsha for telling us about the Publix! We took a short dinghy ride to a public dock just south of the Vilano Bridge. Publix was a short walk away and in sight of Publix was the Atlantic Ocean. Vilano Beach is undergoing redevelopment. The buildings that have been remodeled or that are newly built have an Art Deco vibe to them.

View to the Atlantic from Publix

An art deco style hotel on the right

Vilano Public Pier

A visit to St Augustine would not be complete without lunch at the Cellar Upstairs restaurant at the San Sebastián Winery. They have the best burgers!

Rooftop dining at The Cellar

As guests of Dan and Marcia, David and I were able to tour the Castillo de San Marcos fort. Hard to get my head around the fact that the fort was built over 300 years ago by hand from coquina stone quarried from the nearby Anastasia Island. Some of the walls are 12’ thick. The fort’s construction began in 1672 by the Spaniards. The fort changed ownership several times over the years, being owned by the Spanish then the British and then back to the Spanish and then to the United States. A very interesting visit.

Tomorrow (Saturday) Molly D will be on the move again. We’ve been waiting for a good weather window to make the offshore trip to Fernandina. Hasn’t happened (well there was one yesterday but we had important stuff to do like laundry and eating at The Cellar; priorities, you know). Offshore conditions will put Molly D on the ICW to Fernandina. How long will Molly D stay in Fernandina?? Depends on how long it takes to get decent conditions for the 160 mile, 22-24 hour offshore trip into Charleston. I sure wish “Go go Gadget” were a real thing and Molly D could be airlifted from Fernandina and put down irectly into Charleston harbor. Wouldn’t that be nice?

[jackrrabbit]

cooking at 3am /// Osamu x f!Reader

Request: Imagine cooking together with Osamu at 3am because neither of you could sleep (or because ‘Samu got the midnight munchies lol). You don’t have anything specific in mind; you’re just playing around and feeding each other little bits of what you make.

A/N: bruh you said munchies and my mind said [[ h i g h o s a m u ]] sorry this went in a kinda different direction? but still fun 3am cooking project vibes :P

Tag/warnings: fluff, light drug use (weed), you and Atsumu are lowkey Bros™️, Osamu's kinda baby 🤧

Osamu’s not good at smoking.

He doesn’t really know how to inhale—you know, hold it in his lungs so it can soak in or whatever—and when he does, he coughs. Except he tries to repress the coughs. Even if he wants to hide it, he’s always close enough to you that you can feel his chest moving from trying not to cough when he takes a hit.

And also, like every baby smoker, he can’t really tell when it’s kicking in until he’s off the deep end.

“Can you feel it yet?”

“No.”

You shoot Osamu a glance where he’s sitting on the ground in front of the couch, watching a nature documentary on Atsumu’s TV with a glazed-over look on his face. “You sure? Your eyes are super red.”

“I can’t feel it. Give it—“ He holds out his hand and honestly you’re pretty sure he’s had plenty, but it’s Atsumu’s vape so who cares. You hand it over and Osamu holds it up to his mouth and sucks, eyes fluttering closed as the light on the side of the Pax glows yellow.

God, he looks hot when he does that. Something about a hot guy smoking, yeah? Actually, no. Something about your hot boyfriend smoking.

Except 'Samu holds his breath a second too long and you can see the urge to cough hit him… Wait for it, you think to yourself, and a second later he hacks and wheezes the vapor out in a wispy cloud that reflects silver against the semi-dark. You coo in sympathy and pat his back. “Want some water?”

Osamu shakes his head, hand over his mouth to stop the coughing. On the tv, David Attenborough talks about penguin courtship rituals and Atsumu (who’s been draped on the couch next to you for the past few hours) gives a light little sigh in his sleep. You check the time. 3am. Bedtime. Too bad you and 'Samu are both too high to drive home…whoops. Guess you’re spending the night at Atsumu’s place.

Osamu rubs his bloodshot eyes like they’re itchy, which they probably are. “Hey, can we— uhh… Do we have pancakes.”

“Pancakes, babe? You mean the ones you made for breakfast?”

“Yeah, there’s leftovers…I made you extra and you didn’t want them.” He twists around and gives you an incredibly dirty look, like this is something you did on purpose to hurt his feelings. “If you don’t want them I’m going to eat them.”

“Wait, 'Samu—“ But Osamu's already getting up off the floor to wander over to the next room. You debate pausing the show—it’s a really good scene—but you leave it going for Atsumu's sake because you’re pretty sure the narration is the only thing keeping him asleep. He’s kinda drooling on your shoulder and you have to push him off to go follow your boyfriend to the kitchen.

“What is all this stuff? Ugh…” Osamu's pawing through the fridge. There’s a lot of crinkling, plastic sounds—you catch a glimpse inside and all of the shelves are stacked up with plastic bags and styrofoam containers.

You yawn and hop up to sit on the kitchen island. “Takeout? I don’t think he cooks.” Atsumu's going to get a lecture tomorrow for keeping 2-week-old Indian food in his fridge. God knows you heard it way too many times before you and Osamu moved in together. You don’t envy 'Tsumu.

Osamu sits down in front of the fridge, fumbles with a drawer, and pulls out a bag of moldy grapes. “Gross…who lives like this…”

You snicker into your hand.

“I can’t find the pancakes.” 'Samu's pulling the plastic drawers all the way out now, setting them down on the floor as he inspects the contents of the fridge.

“They’re not here.”

“You ate them?”

“No, I— Hey, put those back in,” you tell him helplessly as he shuts the door of the fridge, ignoring all the leftover food he took out. Yeah, half of it was probably off anyway, but Atsumu's gonna be pissed if he wakes up and there’s takeout going bad all over his kitchen floor.

“You threw away my pancakes?” Now the look on Osamu's face is utter betrayal. He stands up off the floor and glares sulkily at you. “I made those for you…”

“I didn’t throw them away, they’re—“ You hold back a laugh and wish you had your phone on you (where did it go?) so you could take a picture. He’s so cute when he smokes. “—they’re at home.”

“At home?”

“Yep, at home. The place where you and me live, remember?”

“Oh.” Osamu pauses, reaches out absently to grab the edge of your sleeve. You’re wearing one of his hoodies. “We’re not at home?”

“Nope. We’re at Atsumu's place,” you tell him through a giggle.

He plays with your sleeve, contemplating. “Why?”

“Because we’re out of weed and he said he’d smoke us out. And we like hanging out with him.”

“Oh. We do?”

“Yes.”

“…’Kay.” It takes Osamu a second to accept this, but then he nods seriously. “(Y/N), I'm hungry.”

“I know. What do you want to eat? You could probably have any of that stuff, I don’t think he’ll miss it.”

'Samu thinks about it for a moment, scanning the array of takeout containers spread out across the kitchen floor. “I want pancakes.”

“The pancakes are at home, remember?”

“Yeah…” Osamu flips over his grip on your sleeve and traces his thumb down the lines in your palm. “I could make some?”

More pancakes? “I don’t think 'Tsumu has eggs, babe. Or flour. Or…baking soda?” You’re not really sure what ingredients go into pancakes. Whatever cooking skills you possessed pre-Osamu have deteriorated significantly since you moved in together and he took over any and all food preparation for your household.

He pouts at this, and his hair is a little messed up, and he’s so pretty that you can’t stand how much you like him in that second. Mine mine mine, something in the back of your brain says. He’s mine.

You reach up and Osamu obediently ducks his head down so you can smooth his hair back into place and fix the bits that are flipping over his part. “Is there anything else you want to eat?”

“Onigiri.”

“Oh…” Well, at least Atsumu probably has rice. “Sure. Ok. That’s your specialty.”

“I want ya to make it for me.”

“What?” You frown and pull your hand out of his. “You know my cooking sucks.”

“No it doesn’t. (Y/N)’s food’s the best.”

“You own an onigiri shop, come on—“

“Please?”

One of his bangs falls back in his eyes and without thinking you reach up to put it in place. “Okay, fine. But you can’t complain about it if it’s not good.”

He smiles and you want to blush. “Yes! I promise.”

So you do it for him. Even though you’re high too. You measure some rice and water into the rice cooker (Osamu has to give you pointers on how much of each to put in) and you scrounge around Atsumu's depressingly bare kitchen for a few sheets of seaweed and some easy fillings. Osamu pulls a stool up to the island counter and rests his chin on his hands so he can watch you with a bleary look of adoration on his face.

It takes you…maybe half an hour to be done? It’s hard to gauge time when you’re high. You and 'Samu both jump when the rice cooker finishes and plays the little rice cooker song, which will remain stuck in your head for the foreseeable future. 'Samu hums it in a loop while you shape the rice into lopsided triangles and wrap the nori around it.

“Here,” you tell him when you set the plate down in front of him. He looks entirely too happy to be eating your mediocre food for someone who literally does this for a living, but who cares.

He picks one, takes a bite, swallows. And blinks.

“What do you think?” you ask in spite of yourself.

“Umm…salty,” Osamu says.

You grab one to try yourself and it’s salty. Like, ocean salty. Yuck. “I told you it would be bad,” you complain, trying to tug the plate away but Osamu grabs it and pulls it back.

“Noooo…it’s good,” he lies, although his face is giving him away. Still, he takes another bite and chews enthusiastically.

“Shut up.” You tug a little harder but Osamu doesn’t let go.

He swallows, pulls a face, and takes another one. “So good. I love it.”

“Shut up. You sound so fake. You’re going to get sick if you eat that.” You keep pulling, but he insists on pretending it’s edible so you admit defeat and help him finish the onigiri off. God, they’re awful. But he keeps eating and so you do too.

When you’re done, your mouth feels dry as fuck and you want to sleep almost as much as you want to drink about a gallon of water. “Is it bedtime yet?” 'Samu asks, wiping his mouth and then rubbing his eyes again.

The clock over the oven says it’s past 4. “Yes. It’s bedtime.”

“Wait—we’re…we’re not at home, right? We’re at 'Tsumu's?”

“Mhm.”

“I prolly drove here…I dunno if I can drive now,” Osamu tells you slowly, like he’s apologizing. “I think I'm kinda high.”

“Oh yeah?” You hold your laugh back and put your hands up on his cheeks. “How do you feel?”

“Dizzy. Blurry? Like…you’re in slow-motion.” His hands come up to layer over yours. “You’re pretty in slow-mo.”

“Prettier than usual?”

Osamu closes his eyes, scrunching them up to think and then looking over your face intently. “Same amount, just slower. So it’s easier to see.”

“That so?” You slip your hands around to drape over his shoulders and get up on your tiptoes to give him a little kiss on the cheek, because he’s earned it. “You know what, I think I'm kinda high too. I think we’re going to have to have a sleepover.”

“On the couch? S’not big enough for us both.”

“You can sleep with 'Tsumu in his bed…or I guess you could sleep on the ground?”

'Samu's mouth twists and his brows draw together. You can practically hear the gears in his mind turning while he considers alternatives. “Can we share the bed?”

“I think Atsumu's gonna want it. It’s his house.”

“But he’s already sleeping.”

True, you can hear Atsumu snoring lightly from the living room underneath David Attenborough’s description of endangered falcons in the Philippine rainforest. You should really wake him up—matter of fact, you should really clean up the kitchen because it’s a huge mess—but 'Samu's already pulling you away. And you’re so sleepy.

“He’s going to be pissed tomorrow,” you tell Osamu through a yawn, but you let him steer you in the direction of Atsumu's bedroom, holding your hand.

“Don’t care…I hate sleeping without you.”

“Yeah,” you say, and you squeeze his hand and he looks back at you like you’re the literal best thing in the entire universe—and you decide you should get him high more often. “Same.”

[fandomwriterstuff]

“We’re a well-oiled team of military-grade kindergarteners,” his best friend, and the only other human on the ship who would understand what kindergarten was, continued chastising him and his companions. “The level of education and training among the three of you eclipses that of the entire rest of the members of this operation,” Annabeth continued, pointing her finger individually at himself, his pilot Jason, and his Chief Science Officer Nico. “You know, I’m not that surprised with you, Percy, but you are our XO so you should really be more responsible,” he winced at that, still feeling a bit of imposter syndrome at being the Commander of the USS Olympus. “Jason, shouldn’t you be piloting a ship or something?” At that, he saluted her and did an about face before scampering off to get into more trouble. “And you, you’re definitely way too responsible to have gotten mixed up with this Seaweed Brain and Sparky, so what’s in this tomfoolery for you?”

Nico, the only Neptunian on the ship, shifted his large black wings self consciously under the scrutiny of their Chief of Operations. Percy, as the Commander of the vessel, felt obligated to protect his usually stoic and well-behaved… acquaintance? Di Angelo was reserved, almost standoffish, and resented anyone who tried to stick up for him for some reason, but that didn’t stop Percy’s stupid seaweed brain from doing so. Hence the acquaintance. Percy was 99% sure Di Angelo didn’t consider him a friend. But he was nice to Percy and a great officer, so Percy considered him his friend.

“It was my fault, Annie,” he used her childhood nickname carefully, not knowing whether it would soften her up or piss her off more. He was hoping for softening. “It was just another one of Jason and my dumb ideas that we thought we would need a scientist to help with, and we didn’t want to piss off Leo by involving him in it. You know how he is about his engineer and warp cores and whatnot,” Percy held his hands up placatingly. “Leave Di Angelo out of this, he has sciencey things to do, isn’t that right?” Percy side-eyed his companion who (not surprisingly) rolled his eyes.

“I try not to get involved with human pranks or even Jovian mischief, but Officer Grace and First Officer Jackson were about to be meddling with my linguistics team. It isn’t my duty to tell my superiors what to do, so I sought out the next best option, supervising and ensuring no lasting damage was done to the physical or emotional state of the linguistics team. Now,” Here Percy held in a smirk as Di Angelo shrugged. “If they caused interference with the machinery of the ship, that wouldn’t be my expertise, so I allowed it to happen and-” Percy held back a laugh as the other male started speaking even faster to get everything out as Annabeth turned redder and redder. “I’m very sorry about that, truly, but I had no control over the situation.”

“No control over the situation? You three broke our LIT machine and now we have to go back to Earth as soon as we pass close enough to fix it. Soon enough nobody on this ship will understand each other,” the woman across from them crossed her arms and Percy shrunk back a bit.

“I want to make a joke about a machine being called “LIT,” but I feel like it isn’t the right time,” he muttered. “I know the Linguistic Inhibition Technology is important, but most of us have a working understanding of at least one other language, so it shouldn’t be a huge issue, right?”

“You know it works by connecting to the implant technology in our brains, so as it shuts down one by one, members of this ship from spaces stations and planets far and wide will have no clue why they suddenly can’t understand their XO, or their Chief Officer, or their best friend. So you better explain this. And you have to tell them that we’re going straight back to Earth to fix it because no nearby planets have the same brain implant tech as us. Damn Terrans and their brand name technology copyrights,” Annabeth grumbled and finally turned around to walk off.

“Hey, you’re Terran, too!” Percy shouted after her, but she just flipped him the bird.

“She can do that?” Di Angelo asked, side-eyeing Percy.

“Yeah, she’s been my best friend since we were twelve. As long as she doesn’t undermine my authority in front of everyone else, I don’t really care. I’ve done way worse to her,” Percy laughed at the other man’s frown. “Nothing bad, just pranks and things of that sort. Maybe when we get back to Earth we can show you where we’re from. You never set foot off of the training grounds while you were in school.”

“I would… like that,” Di Angelo paused and gave Percy a soft smile.

“Great,” Percy patted the younger male on the shoulder and made his way to the Command Center.

Percy sat himself down in the rotating chair and pressed on the comms device.

“Gooooood evening crew of the USS Olympus, this is your Commanding Officer, Percy Jackson, speaking,” he smiled at the engineering crew that was scuttling by, only for one of them to pause and look at him like he was speaking a different language… Whoops.

“There was a malfunction with the Linguistic Inhibition Technology and we will be returning to Earth henceforth to repair it before the damage becomes problematic. You may experience glitches with your implant technology and may revert to only understanding your first language and those you have studied extensively. If somebody looks like they’re not understanding what I’m saying right now, please escort them to the linguistics team in Science Bay 3. Carry on. Jackson, out.” He clicked again and the mic turned off.

He sighed, this would be one of his bigger mistakes. They were supposed to be exploring, but they couldn’t do that if nobody could speak to one another. One trip home couldn’t hurt him, and he was sure Annabeth would be happy to see her father.

It wasn’t until later after the Chief Officer meeting when someone finally asked Percy about Earth. For many of the non-humans on the ship, Earth was a place to get education and training to go out in the star fleet, and they never set foot outside the campus grounds, just like Di Angelo. But people had stopped asking him questions because Earth was basically “Space Australia,” as Annabeth had explained to him. The adaptability of humans and their need to pack bond astounded many and horrified many others. So, he stopped talking about home.

It was a new member of their ship, Novax (a Vulcan who was a part of Leo’s engineering team), who asked him about it first.

“I hear Earth is 75% made of pure salt water, and is filled with animals of all kinds. Do you have a favorite water animal?” he asked Percy excitedly.

“Definitely dolphins, though they aren’t underwater creatures. Like humans they need oxygen to breathe, and come up for air very often. My favorite actual underwater species would have to be a hippocampus from Neptune. I’ve always wanted to go and see one, but my human anatomy prevents me from going on-planet,” Percy explained and sipped on his hot tea.

“There are a million creatures in the ocean and you pick one that doesn’t breathe underwater?” Clarisse grunted. His Chief Tactical Officer was a brutish Martian, but very specialized in weapons. “And your second favorite isn’t even Terran.”

“What else do you know about the ‘ocean’?” Novax breathed, leaning forward.

“Eh, not much,” Percy shrugged.

“I’m not sure I heard that correctly, maybe my LIT unit isn’t functioning well,” another member of engineering asked, Nyssa. “Your planet is 75% water and you don’t even know what is inside it?”

“I could tell you about the people who spend their life learning about what survives in the deep depths,” Percy looked up, knowing he had all of the non-Terrans hooked on every word. Even Di Angelo had paused in his note taking and was staring wide-eyed at Percy. “But I don’t know if you’d want to know.”

“No we do!” Nyssa exclaimed. “There are people who dedicate their lives to a place that’s literally not navigable by humans, the main inhabitants of the planet?”

“Well as you said, most of the planet is water. Which means that coastal communities are filled with fisherman, whalers, swimmers, and more. I could tell you about some of those. I could also tell you about the scientists that spend years of their lives building bots that can’t even come close to withstanding the pressure at the deepest depths without imploding, or I could tell you about those that do come close,” he shrugged.

“What happened to those?”

“The video feed cut out after only seeing multiple rows of sharp, jagged teeth,” Annabeth answered, her sharp grin frightening those who hadn’t noticed her. Some forgot that she was Terran, because she was also half Minervan.

“I could tell you about whales. Beautiful, they come in black and white or grey or blue. But they can be as big as almost 100 feet long. That’s as long as most pirate ships. And they could fit about 400 average sized humans in their mouths. You don’t want to cross one of them. And they only live on the surface. The things that live in the deep,” Percy shuddered for effect. There were no Neptunians on the ship, so there were no natural water dwellers there, so all of his rapt listeners were shocked by this information. “There’s the anglerfish. They light up the dark with an antenna on top of their heads, and the light lures in prey. But it’s so dim elsewhere that you don’t see their big sharp teeth until you’re right up against them,” he murmured. “Giant squids are almost as big as whales but not nearly as peaceful and beautiful. They have eight arms and two tentacles that could wrap around any boat and crush it.”

“Ten limbs?” Nyssa whispered, clearly disturbed.

“Plus, the Portuguese Man o’ War,” Percy shrugged nonchalantly. “Also known as the floating terror. It’s like a big blue jellyfish that sits innocently on top of the water with huge blue tentacles that sit just underneath with a sting strong enough to kill a full grown human.”

“Don’t worry,” Annabeth grinned that shark grin again. “Percy won’t tell you about the stories of the old days. He doesn’t want to scare you.”

“That was the not scary part?” Novax gulped.

“Anyway, I just got notified that we’ll be back on Earth in a few days, so brace yourselves,” and with that, she stood and left them all staring after her. When the door clicked shut, Percy had all eyes back on him. He shrugged.

“Don’t look at me. I wasn’t going to tell you about the kr- nevermind,” he stood. “Di Angelo, with me,” the younger officer stood, back to business and was at Percy’s side again in a moment. “Clear your schedule, you’re spending shore leave with me, pal.”

“Great,” came the deadpan reply.

“Don’t sound so somber,” Percy rolled his eyes. “I’m just going to show you the beach and maybe a good gay bar. You need to let off some steam my dude.”

The other male reddened.

“That is so… That is…” he huffed. “Highly inappropriate.” he glared down at the ground and Percy felt a little bad, maybe the guy wasn’t out? But it was clear he had a preference for males. Oh well, that foot was already in Percy’s mouth.

“Fine. But I will be attending and I am a great dancer so you’re missing out,” he winked at the flustered officer and made his way back to his cabin. It would be an interesting few days.

He made a plan with Annabeth. Day one before shore leave, Percy would spread a rumor to Novax about the kraken. Bigger than a giant squid and meaner. Known to crush entire pirate ships in the olden days.

Day two, Annabeth would mention sirens to Nyssa. Hideous creatures that could lure you in with their voices and lead you to believe you were bringing your ship in to everything you ever wanted, when in reality you would crash your ships and then drown.

Day three, Percy would tell Leo about the Megalodon. A definitely very real shark so big you couldn’t even imagine it. Percy shuddered at that one.

“But, there are some good things,” Percy was speaking to Nico Di Angelo from his Commander chair, in ear shot of some of the participants of the conversation a few nights prior. “Mermaids, the siren’s nicer cousin species. And the lost city of Atlantis. Known to be a great and bountiful city, lost to the sea and cursed by the gods to be stuck down there forever. Some believe it still exists, but it’s within the Bermuda Triangle.”

“What, pray tell, is the Bermuda Triangle,” Clarisse sighed.

“Hard to explain. Ships just… go in… and they never come out,” Annabeth shrugged. “Planes go down. Ships wreck. People who go in don’t come back out, so we don’t know if Atlantis is really there or not.”

“That’s… terrifying,” Novax whispered as he walked by.

Percy was sure he had created a healthy fear of Earth’s oceans in his crew. And he meant to, because while he loved the beach and swimming, he did want to make them shy away from the depths. They wouldn’t do well to explore it.

[khaotic-kitsunes]

Drifting

I had so much fun writing up the introduction to this request! You’ll probably see why in just a minute too...but, fun fact, the lovely Khaos, the newest addition to the blog, helped me out with this request when I found myself a little stuck!

Khaos added a helpful amount of amazing to the ending scene, so be sure to thank them for their amazing input! Oh, and make sure ya let us know what you think, okay?

I would also like to add that I know it’s been quiet here on the blog and I’m sorry for that but personally, I’ve had some...curveballs thrown at me health wise so you probably won’t see a lot from me. So, yeah.

Navigation 

Cheeky Kitsune 🦊💋

.

 Tamaki slowly peeked up above the ocean’s surface, keeping as quiet as possible to remain unnoticed while he allowed his eyes to land upon the object of his curiosities and affections; swallowing thickly when he realised that you had shown up at exactly sunset yet again, just like always.

 And, as always, you were alone. You had no companions that could prevent him from stealing you away to his secret cave and no one to help you if he decided to keep you to himself. An idea that appealed to him more with each of your visits to the beach.

 What interested Tamaki most, however, was the fact that with each of your visits, you made sure to only come by the secluded beach at sunset; when everyone else had gone home for the day. Tourists seemed to believe all the local’s stories of monsters beneath the water’s surface, waiting for the sun to go down so that their attacks could go unnoticed until it was too late.

 Of course, it was all nonsense. Tamaki was the only merperson to occupy this particular beach and he had been for quite a few years now; any and all monsters were long gone, migrated to places that weren’t so aware of the dangers that lurked beneath the depths.

 But it was also because of the late hour that you came to the beach, that Tamaki couldn’t approach you. He was all too aware of how a human woman might react to a random man approaching them in the water when the sun was beginning to set, shadows casting over the sky and melting the beautiful orange hues into an inky blackness.

 So, instead, Tamaki had to be satisfied with watching you from afar. Appreciating your beauty and daydreaming about all the different possibilities of meeting you; how he could befriend you and get closer, all while knowing it would be an impossibility.

 .

 ~  ~  ~

 .

 Tamaki stared at you with wide, saucer-like eyes, his mouth hanging open while you swam towards him slowly; your body remaining below the water’s surface, hiding the fact that you were without your bikini top.

 The very same bikini top that he held in his hands, a scrap of clothing that he had been inspecting out of confusion given that it was nearly midnight and he had thought that you had left the beach hours ago like you normally would.

 “…I think that’s mine” Your softly uttered words startled him, making him jolt and sink down further into the water while he released the bikini top; allowing it to float up to the surface, harmlessly bobbing up and down with the waves between the both of you.

 “Sorry, I uh, didn’t realise that someone else was here” He muttered out a pathetic excuse for an apology, trying his best not to let his tentacles move into your line of sight; desperate to at least seem normal, even if it wouldn’t be a lasting impression.

  Tamaki gulped nervously as he watched you reach for the floating bikini top, averting his gaze when you shuffled around to put the piece of clothing back on; the hurried movements of your fingers catching his attention with how the water splashed from the clumsy actions. The silence beginning to feel awkward while Tamaki tried his best not to look at you before you were ready, not wanting to come off as a pervert. Not to you.

 “It’s okay, I didn’t realise anyone else was here either. Not this late at night anyways and certainly not with the way everyone goes on about the monsters that are waiting for sunset so they can eat you” You rolled your eyes as the words left your lips, briefly giving Tamaki a once over before nodding your head to yourself; making Tamaki wonder if you were giving him the benefit of the doubt despite how strange it was for him to be here at this time, more so considering that he had technically been holding onto your bikini top.

 Then again, it would make sense for you to assume that he had thought it was a piece of seaweed; because honestly, that’s exactly what Tamaki had first thought when he picked it up.

 It wasn’t uncommon for people to investigate strange and/or suspicious objects that were found floating in the ocean, only to cast them away as quickly as they had been found. Tamaki had seen humans do so more times than he could count and luckily for him, he had had the brains to immediately release the skimpy piece of clothing; a guilty man would have tried to hide it, or simply kept held of it. Not Tamaki though, he had dropped it, allowed you to take it back and even averted his gaze so that you could have some form of privacy while fixing your top; even if it hadn’t been a great deal of privacy. There was only so much he could offer given the circumstances after all.

 However, even with these facts in mind, Tamaki could easily see that you were still on guard and he was happy to see such a thing. It reassured him that you didn’t trust random strangers in the water just because they had been polite enough to look away while you were topless.

 “Still, I am sorry…about your top, I mean. If I had of known what it was…” Tamaki trailed off as his face flushed with embarrassment, the tips of his pointed ears beginning to turn a similar shade of scarlet while he dipped further into the gentle waves of the night’s warm ocean waters; only stopping when his nose was beneath the salty waters.

 “It’s fine, okay? No harm, no foul” You hummed out the words in a soft voice, swimming around to face the embarrassed merman; all the while being completely unaware of what he truly was.

 “So…what brings you out so late?” Your question made Tamaki’s body go stiff, anxiety rushing through his system while his brain scrambled to think of something, anything to say in response to such an innocently asked question; anything but the truth, that is.

 There was no way known that Tamaki could tell you the truth behind his daily visits to this beach, especially when he could live happily and stealthily beneath the ocean waves for the rest of his life if it weren’t for your presence on this beach.

 Tamaki wanted to slap himself. Here he was, minding his own business in the ocean when the opportunity that he would have killed for, landed in his lap. The chance to speak with you, instead of just stare at you from afar and yet here he was, completely and utterly unable to get a single word out; instead, the fears of what could happen filled his mind.

 The terrifying what ifs of you hating him if he opened his mouth and said the wrong thing tormenting him into a nervous silence. Tamaki’s only relief from the situation, was that he would have the memories of having gotten close to you without making you scream and panic; though that also meant that no one would notice if he were to steal you away in that moment, if he took you to a place that no one would ever hope to find.

 But that was something that he couldn’t do and definitely something that Tamaki shouldn’t think about, unless he wanted to fuel the desires that he so often pushed aside. You would surely hate him if he were to do even half of the things that he had thought about.

 “Well, I guess I’ll see you around…” You mumbled out the farewell awkwardly, turning away from Tamaki in order to swim back towards the shore, no longer able to enjoy the solitude of an empty beach.

 “Uh, wait!” Tamaki called out to you again, finally able to find his voice once more as he reached out for you, his hand closing around your arm. Sealing his choice of interaction with you when you turned to face him. He should have let you leave.

 “Your…um, your strap, it’s loose…” He barely managed to mumble out the words without humiliating himself, averting his gaze when he found himself unable to meet your eyes; not needing the added kick of self-loathing on top of his nervousness.

 “You’ll lose your top again if you don’t fix it…”

 .

 “Oh. Well, do you mind?”

 .

 Tamaki gulped nervously as you turned your back to him once more, allowing him to reach for the loose strings belonging to your bikini top; needing to untie the knot that you had created in a rush minutes ago. If Tamaki were telling the truth, the knot probably would have held, but at the same time, he wouldn’t get another chance to let his skin brush against your own.

 Now, he was in heaven, making sure to tie a strong knot while at the same time, being sure that it wasn’t so tight that you wouldn’t be able to undo it yourself later on.

 “There…all done” He mumbled out the words under his breath when he was finished tying the knot, his fingers lingering on your skin for a brief moment, wanting more; though you pulled away before he could get ahead of himself.

 Leaving Tamaki to breathe a sigh of release, all while silently cursing both himself and all of his pent-up desires. More so when you spun around to smile at him, the radiance you gave off nearly blinding his mopey self.

 “You’re beautiful…!” Tamaki blurted out the words before he could stop himself, quickly slapping his hands over his mouth with his eyes going wide in a mix of shock and horror. Mortified that he had said something like that without realising.

 Your eyes went wide, the smile fading from your lips and making Tamaki wish that he had legs so that he could kick himself. Unaware that you weren’t upset, but rather the opposite, never having been so earnestly complimented before; it brought an unfamiliar warmth to your cheeks and to your heart.

 “Um…thanks…” Tamaki watched you as you swam closer to him, torn between escaping to the ocean’s depths and closing the gap between the two of you; desperate for both, yet knowing better than to actually reach for the object of his desires.

 With his mind struggling to choose between the two options, Tamaki froze in place at the worst time; allowing you to move closer until he felt your warm toes brush over his wriggling tentacles, fear filling him when you jolted back in surprise. Your eyes scanning the dark waters for seaweed.

 “What’s…wrong?” Tamaki mentally slapped himself for asking while he watched you lower your head closer to the water’s surface, still searching for seaweed that he knew you wouldn’t find. He was just thankful that it was so late in the night, making it nearly impossible for you to see anything below the surface; you weren’t like him, you didn’t have eyes unaffected by the dark.

 .

 “Well, it’s just…I thought that something touched my leg…”

 .

 Tamaki moved his tentacles as far away from you as he could, praying that the darkness would be enough to push aside your curiosity, but apparently, it was too late; your hands closed around two of his now squirming tentacles as he tried to pull them free of your hold.

 “Y-You…you’re a…” You breathed out in amazement, eyes wide as you stared at him and though it wasn’t in fear, Tamaki couldn’t take it. He wriggled his tentacles free of your grip and dove deep into the water; fearing what you would do now that you knew what he was.

 .

 “Wait!”

 .

 Tamaki ignored the muffled cry for him to stop, determined not to lose the strength it took to leave you behind instead of dragging you into the depths with him.

 Before Tamaki could get too far away however, he felt your hands close around his tentacles for the second time, causing him to freeze on the spot; heart thundering in his chest. He was already struggling to keep himself contained after having his tentacles grabbed the first time, but now it was too much; his tentacles were sensitive after all.

 Tamaki turned around in the water to look at you with a hunger that he had been pushing aside for far too long; using every last ounce of willpower he had left not to grab you and take you with him to his cave.

 The two of you remained submerged for a moment longer, staring at each other through the impossibly dark ocean water of the night. Tamaki knew you couldn’t see him, but your hold on his tentacles was enough to give you a direction to look at and like this, he had the rare opportunity to take in your breathtaking appearance; enjoying it as much as possible before wrapping some of his tentacles around your body and swimming for the surface.

 You were a human, which meant that you needed oxygen. A fact that he had nearly forgotten for a moment there, but either way; Tamaki wasn’t going to let you die. Not now, not when he could prevent it.

 “I’m not…I’m not gonna—” Tamaki motioned you to stop speaking as you tried to cough at the words, a suggestion that you decided to follow given that it was hard to regain your breath and speak at the same time. Given that Tamaki was no longer trying to swim away and that his tentacles were still wrapped around your body, keeping you afloat so that you didn’t have to put any effort into swimming yourself; you figured that you had time to catch your breath.

 “I was trying to say that I’m not going to turn you in. I was just…surprised, I guess” You rubbed at your neck as you explained yourself, your words making Tamaki’s stress melt away while thoughts of adoration towards you filled his mind.

 It was mind blowing to him that a human that had just discovered his secret wasn’t about to go running off telling everyone that merpeople existed and it certainly made him love you more than he already did.

 “Though, I am a little confused. I’ve heard those stories for years, listening to them as a little girl…how going out into the water at night is a terrible idea because monsters from the ocean will drag you beneath the water and steal you away” Tamaki grimaced as you giggled at the thought, clearly having no idea how close you had come to such a fate; even if the end result would have been different. Tamaki wouldn’t have hurt you, or eaten you alive like the old monsters of the ocean would have; no, he would have done so many different things to you. Things that would surely have you slap him if he dared to say them aloud to you.

 “Well, you know…don’t believe everything you hear I guess…” He managed to get a light-hearted chuckle out as he spoke, deciding that for the moment it would be better to keep you entrapped in his tentacles; mostly so that you couldn’t grab a hold of them again and push him into his instincts more than you already have.

 “I guess so, but I don’t know…you don’t seem so bad. Maybe having you steal me away wouldn’t be so terrible” Tamaki’s features twisted into unfiltered surprise at your giggled words, blood rushing through his ears and completely blocking out whatever it was that you were currently continuing on with.

 It seemed you managed to notice the faraway look in his eyes while his mind worked overtime to process your joke. Going as far as to reach out with your hand to brush your fingertips against his cheek, ripping him from his thoughts and dragging him back to reality; your eyes locking with his heated gaze the moment his attention was back on the present you instead of his fantasy version.

 “…You would let me steal you away?” He pulled your body closer to his with his tentacles as he spoke, the slippery limbs tightening their hold on you ever-so-slightly while you gulped nervously; unable to look away from the merman in front of you.

 “…I…yes, I guess so” You spoke softly, unsure words tasting foreign to your tongue but unregrettable all the same. There was a certain air of importance surrounding the spoken words and now you found yourself slowly beginning to sink into the water with a smiling Tamaki.

 It was amazing, how his eyes had lit up with joy at your uttered words. Though it made you think vaguely of the old fae stories, where your word was a binding contract and if that were to be held in the same regard with mer-people, then it seemed like you had agreed to a new way of life.

 .

 “You won’t regret it, I promise. I’ve got the perfect place in mind for you, you’ll be safe with me…I won’t let anyone steal you away…”

[wasithard]

Percy wakes up on his seventeenth birthday in his own bed.

One year ago today, he’d woken up in a room at the Plaza Hotel from a vision of the Titan Lord Kronos planning his attack on Manhattan. One year ago today, he’d woken up in the middle of a war – and that’s not even the most recent war he’s fought.

Percy wakes up on his seventeenth birthday and immediately goes back to sleep.

**

His day goes like this: waking again to blue pancakes and waffles and eating them with his mom and Paul. Having a picnic lunch with Annabeth and Grover in Central Park, then driving with them to camp for dinner and a bonfire with their friends. Roasting marshmallows and singing songs and kissing Annabeth by the fire. Getting too lost in the way the firelight tinges her grey eyes red to notice the rest of the campers gathering around them before they pick them up and throw them in the lake, just like last year. Sitting around the dying embers of the fire, remembering the friends they lost in the war that ended one year ago today, the heavy silence of that moment burying itself in the middle of his chest, sitting there like a weight. Going to bed in his cabin, Tyson snoring in the bunk above him, wishing the love he’d felt from his friends that day would be enough to silence the voices in his head yelling it should’ve been me.

**

Percy wakes up on his nineteenth birthday, three years after the war.

He wakes up and wonders if he’ll ever stop thinking of it as the anniversary of the war instead of a celebration for another year he’s lived, or another year he’s spent with Annabeth.

Annabeth, who’s living on campus in the city they almost gave their lives defending three years ago now and comes over for breakfast that morning with Sally and Paul. He’s sitting at the table with them all, laughing and grateful to have them, but wondering if he should be worried that it’s been three years and he still wakes up on August 18th with a tightness in his chest at the thought of getting another year older than his friends who will never see another day. He knows they’re in Elysium. The thought should bring him peace.

Breakfast trickles into the afternoon and he and Annabeth go for a walk in Central Park before driving up to Camp. On the way there, Percy takes a detour to a small beach he’d scouted out a few weeks before and surprises his girlfriend with a picnic on the sand. He helps her build a sandcastle that’s almost taller than he is, holding the waves back so that they can use the hard, wet sand near the shoreline to make their castle stronger.

By the time they get to Camp they both smell of salt and seaweed and his spirits are high. It makes it worse, somehow, when they have their annual memorial to those they lost three years ago that he’s had such a nice day so far. Annabeth notices his change in mood, presses a kiss to his shoulder as she entwines their fingers.

After the campers start to trickle off to bed, Chiron catches his eye and Percy follows him to the Big House. They are sitting on the balcony, crickets chirping around them and a glass of cool blue Coke in Percy’s hand when Chiron fixes him with a stare that has seen countless tragedies and asks him if he still blames himself for being alive.

It’s jarring to hear someone so bluntly say out loud the thoughts he hasn’t dared to speak for so long. He swallows, can’t bring himself to hold Chiron’s gaze so flicks his eyes down to his feet instead, the only part of his body that doesn’t feel like it’s shaking. His fingers clench around the clear glass in his hand and he watches beads of water slide down the outside of it. Chiron doesn’t speak, but the silence is heavy and Percy feels like it’ll suffocate him if he doesn’t break it.

“I don’t– ” he clears his throat. It sounds too thick. “I don’t blame myself.”

He takes a sip of his Coke, swallowing it completely. “I don’t blame myself. I just don’t understand…”

He doesn’t want to finish the sentence, doesn’t want to say the words, I don’t understand why it wasn’t me, but when his eyes meet Chiron’s again he knows the centaur understands. How many other heroes has he seen feel the same way? Does he feel the same way?

“Percy,” Chiron says, his voice steady and deep with thousands of years of wisdom and loss and hope. “You help no one by holding on to guilt that isn’t yours.”

Percy exhales roughly, running a hand through his hair. In his head, he understands this. He just doesn’t believe it. If he had been a little bit better, in any sense of the word: faster, stronger, smarter. Maybe Charles wouldn’t have gotten caught in the engine room of the Princess Andromeda. Maybe Michael wouldn’t have been caught in the earthquake Percy had caused on the Williamsburg Bridge. Maybe Clarisse could have been convinced to fight in the war earlier, so Silena wouldn’t have had to impersonate her.

“Percy.” Chiron repeats, voice firmer. “You might be a hero, but you are also a person. And all a person can ever do is their best.”

Percy closes his eyes, bows his head. Chiron continues speaking. “The gods have done wonderful things, but they have also made many, many mistakes. More and far more devastating mistakes than the ones you have made in your short life. The benefit and curse of immortality is seeing how the actions of a moment can fade over time. How they can be made up for when a similar situation arises in the future. How it is not one’s past that defines them, but how they learn from it.”

Percy doesn’t want to look up at Chiron now, because there are tears in his eyes and it’s embarrassing, frankly. But he owes it to him.

He looks up. Chiron’s gaze is as steady as before, and Percy exhales one more time, releasing air all the way down to his belly. One tear slips down the side of his face and stops at his upper lip. He licks it away, using a hand to wipe his eyes as he turns his face to the now quiet camp. He can see the volleyball court, the rock climbing wall, the smoking embers of the campfire and the beginning of the circle of cabins. He sees his home: safe, intact. Filled with his friends, the survivors. He breathes it in.

“Thanks, Chiron.” He says, turning back to the centaur who gives him a soft, understanding smile in return.

Percy finishes off his drink and leaves the empty glass on the same wooden table he saw Chiron and Dionysus playing pinochle at when he first arrived at Camp, all those years ago. He stands up, wishes Chiron goodnight and starts walking back to the cabins.

Cabin 3 stands there: dark, alone and familiar. He feels tiredness tug at his eyelids and muscles but inside he still feels too wired to lay down just yet. He heads for the beach.

Annabeth is already there. Her legs are bent in front of her, arms tucked underneath them and chin resting on her knees. He sits silently beside her and they stay there, no sound between them except the gentle crash of the waves on the shore. After a few minutes she leans her head against his shoulder and he rests his atop hers, closes his eyes.

“Do you remember when we were in the Sea of Monsters and I wanted to hear the Sirens?” Annabeth asks, voice quiet. “I would’ve killed myself on those rocks swimming to their island but you dove into the ocean and pulled me out of their range, even though I was kicking and screaming at you to stop. We were thirteen.

“And remember in Mount St. Helen’s? I know you didn’t have a plan, but you made me get out anyway. You made sure that I was safe before even thinking about how you would survive.”

He feels her weight leave his shoulder then, glances over to see her sitting up and turning towards him, crossing her legs under her. The light of the full moon washes her in an ethereal glow, and her eyes are gleaming wide and bright as they lock onto his, pinning him in place. Annabeth is always beautiful, but when she’s determined – whether in battle or in convincing her boyfriend that he doesn’t deserve the pain he inflicts on himself – she has a face that could launch a thousand ships.

“And in Rome,” she says, her voice catching. “You wouldn’t let me face Tartarus unless we could face it together. I don’t know how many times you saved my life down there…” Percy sees her eyes begin to well with tears. “When we were fighting the arai…” She closes her eyes as a few tears escape them. Percy reaches forward and wipes a few away with his thumb. She opens her eyes into his again and gives him a small smile.

“My point is,” she continues, her voice thick. “Being a demigod is a high risk life that none of us asked for. An occupational hazard of us just being alive is death by monster attack. This is the first thing we learn when we find out who we are. All the friends we’ve lost over the years…they knew that too.

“And that doesn’t mean that their deaths were ok or justified or that we can forget about them, but I think that shouldering the burden of their deaths is stopping you from remembering the beauty of their lives. And it’s stopping you from remembering all the people who haven’t died because of you. Every single person in this camp owes their life to you, either directly or indirectly. Yes, a lot of people died on this day three years ago, but even more people were saved, and you had more to do with the last thing than the first.”

Percy’s getting teary again, but he doesn’t feel embarrassed this time. Annabeth shuffles closer to him on the sand and grabs both of his hands, squeezing them tightly, bringing them up and pressing her lips against them. “Percy Jackson, you have the purest heart of anyone I have ever met. It’s glaringly obvious to anyone who knows you – except yourself, apparently. I will spend the rest of my life trying to help you see it, but until then you’re just gonna have to trust me.”

Her face changes. It goes from open and pleading to playful, one eyebrow raised and a challenge in her eyes that makes his heart skip a beat, even when the rest of his system is in emotional overwhelm.

“Do you trust me, Percy?” Annabeth asks him.

He lets out a laugh, shaky from tears, and nods, “Yes, Annabeth. I trust you with my life.”

She beams at him, sitting up on her knees to bring her face closer to his, until it’s close enough that he can feel the warmth of her breath as she speaks, her eyes still locked onto his. “Then believe me when I tell you that you deserve forgiveness. And you need to give it to yourself.”

It’s too much. Percy swallows, jaw clenched and glances down. Annabeth releases one of his hands and grabs his chin, not letting him get away that easily.

“You. Deserve. Forgiveness. More than anyone in this world.”

He’s searching her eyes, frantically almost. It feels too easy. There has to be a catch.

“Ok?” Annabeth prompts, her voice still soft but firm, uncompromising.

He opens his mouth to speak but any words get caught in the knot at the base of his throat. Tears are leaking down his face and he can’t. He can’t. It can’t be that easy. It shouldn’t be.

Annabeth exhales, removing her hand from his chin and instead running it through his hair, stopping at the back of his head and bringing it forward until their foreheads touch. She doesn’t say anything else, just sits there with him.

With him, while he closes his eyes and thinks about the Minotaur choking his mom when he was twelve. Thinks about imaging Tyson drowning in the Sea of Monsters when he was thirteen. Thinks about losing Bianca di Angelo and Zoe Nightshade later that same year. He thinks about the campers that fell in the Battle of the Labyrinth whose names he didn’t know, and the campers that fell in the Battle of Manhattan whose names he made sure he did. He thinks of a Titan and a Giant at the Doors of Death, sacrificing themselves so that he and Annabeth could get to safety.

Percy sits on a beach at nineteen years old and thinks of all the death he’s seen in such a short time, all the death that’s been haunting him for years.

A cool breeze passes by him, coming from the water. As it brushes his skin, he comes back to the warmth of his best friend’s forehead pressed against his, her hands: one clutching his, the other tangled in his hair. He feels her soft exhale of breath and thinks about how she is alive, here, with him. Against all odds. He thinks of the campers asleep in the cabins just metres away: alive, here, with him. He thinks of his mom and Paul and Rachel, his friends from Camp Jupiter, all the people he cares about who are alive, here, with him. He thinks about the fact that they outnumber the dead, and realises he’s never really thought about that before.

Percy lifts his head and looks at Annabeth. She cups one side of his face with her hand, eyes still trained on his intently.

“I love you.” He says. “I’m so happy you’re alive.”

Her smile is small and bittersweet, her eyes wide grey pools of understanding.

“Me too,” is all she says.

It is enough.

[amintyworld]

I'm Like You - Origins SMP Oneshot

A/N: So... Origins SMP may be over but that won't stop me from posting this-! :D

Origins SMP please come back

Anyway here's some hurt/comfort more on the fluffy side. - Minty

TW: Blood/gore, mention of death, kidnapping, mention of chopping one's wings off, mention of selling body parts, almost drowning, cursing. (Let me know if I need to add anything else!)

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

Phil remembered the day they found him - he was tangled in some seaweed and reeds, floating along in the water, leaving a trail of crimson red in his wake. The teenager's right wing was a shamble of blood and feathers, bruises and cuts littering his skin that ignited Phil's anger - he had half a mind to find that damn village and set it ablaze. But, his mind made sure the boy was the priority. Phil untangled him, thankful that the ocean hadn't let him float out to sea, and pulled him on land, quickly searching for a pulse and practically sighing in relief when he'd found one. Phil wondered how long the kid had been out here - he felt ice-cold to the touch, skin ghostly pale.

He remembered, holding the teenager close in his arms as he took off in the air, wondering why. Why would someone hurt a kid, a child, for something they couldn't control? Why would someone have so much hate in their hearts to land deadly hits on a defenseless person? Why then, after everything they did to him, did they leave him in the river to die? Phil never really got an answer that night as he returned toward Ghostbur's mansion on the mountain. He guessed that maybe the world just didn’t have an answer, or rather, they just didn’t have an answer he wanted to hear.

Phil’s roommate, a good-natured phantom called Ghostbur, practically rushed the kid upstairs to a bed, grabbing supplies before Phil even had a chance to explain what happened. “Ghostbur, you really shouldn’t-!” Phil huffed as he launched himself to the second level, grabbing his friend by the arm, feeling his friend’s body shake with adrenaline, emotion. “Wil, he’s got a broken wing - wings are very sensitive and extremely delicate, we need to be careful.” His hand reached up to steady his phantom friend. “Can you grab a couple of potions, bandages, as well as a needle and thread for me? I’ll work on cleaning him up.”

The phantom took a deep breath, silently phasing through the floor beneath his feet to grab the items Phil requested. He understood Ghostbur’s worry - damaged wings for winged creatures could quickly turn detrimental, it was a natural part of who they were, how they felt, and sensed danger around them. Without it, they’d feel incomplete, empty, but most importantly - they’d be in their most vulnerable state.

Phil’s fingers were soft and light as he cleaned out the wounded wing, picking out and straightening feathers that were stuck, misshapen, or out of place. Gently, using lukewarm water, he washed the dirt, rocks, and dried blood from the wound, careful to move slowly so as to not cause alarm to the kid. Ghostbur floated up next to him, placing the things he asked for on the bedside table, crossing his arms, and looking over to the teenager. “Is he gonna be okay, Phil?”

“I…” Phil sighed. “I dunno. The wound’s deep, half his flying feathers are gone… thank gods whoever left him had a shit aim, it looks like they were trying to take the wing off at the source.”

“Can you fix it?”

“...I can try.”

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

Tommy’s head pounded, his body wrapped in a comforting warmth that practically screamed at him to sink into. His muscles ached for rest, but Tommy knew he needed to get moving. His head ached so much it made his brain go fuzzy as he struggled to remember what happened yesterday. He and Tubbo were moving to go collect some honey… Did he fall asleep again?

Tommy would admit it wouldn’t be the first time he found a good sunlight patch to catch a nap and the shulker hybrid had to carry him back to their base on the mountain. How long had he slept? Why was he still tired?

His ears perked up as he heard shuffling around him. His instincts began to flare, sending signals up his spine. Wait… the hunters… the hunters took him… Tubbo’s in danger-

He felt someone touch his wing, gently moving it toward themselves. His wing… they tried to take his wings, they wanted to sell them for money-! Tommy’s eyes snapped open. He wasn’t home. He didn’t know where he was and a stranger was touching his wing.

dangerdangerdanger-

Ignoring his body’s protests to rest, he leaped up, surprising the attacker as he tackled him toward the wall quickly to restrain him, pinning his neck with his arm. A crash sounded behind him but Tommy didn’t care. He was getting out of here and saving Tubbo no matter what. His eyes bore into the ill-intended stranger, ready for a fight. “Where am I?!”

The stranger’s eyes flicked up toward Tommy’s, at first matching his intense gaze before quickly softening, silent as he became acutely aware of the razor-sharp talons digging into his leg. “You’re in my house.” He did his best to keep his voice calm. “I didn’t mean to startle you.”

“Where’s Tubbo?”

“Who-”

Tommy slammed the man back against the wall. “Don’t act dumb you fucker, where’s the shulk?!”

“I don’t know, okay?! Just-!”

Tommy’s eyes flicked over toward the window - an escape! He needed to get out of here, clearly Tubbo got taken somewhere else if the stranger didn’t know him. He needed to get free and… and come up with some kind of plan...yeah! Adrenaline pumping like mad from the close encounter, the stranger noticed his gaze as realization hit him.

“Wait… hold on, you really shouldn’t-!”

Tommy felt the wind flow underneath his wings, perched on the window ledge. They were achingly sore - who knows how long he’d been trapped here? Moving to crack a tense spot in his back, Tommy felt a sense of relief. He smiled, knowing that his wings wouldn’t be sore for much longer. They just needed to stretch.

Phil rushed forward, an inch too late as Tommy leaped from the building.

The teenager stretched his wings out to catch himself on the breeze, confident for the span of at least a minute. He closed his eyes like he usually did to better focus. Why couldn’t he feel his wings picking him up? Why wasn’t his body doing what he needed to - it was as simple as taking a step! Just stretch and glide on the breeze.

Stretch, and…

For the first time since the avian learned to fly, Tommy found himself crashing down onto the grass. Shame welled up in his stomach, paired with confusion. Hearing the door bang open behind him added to it all a twinge of fear. He stumbled, trying in vain to gather his bearings. Ignoring the sting of scratches from the crash, he ran into the forest.

“Wait! Mate, just wait for a second!”

The wind picked up through the trees, tangling through hair and setting practically every nerve on Tommy’s wings aflame. There was danger. He needed to fly. He needed to fly away, but… but he couldn’t. He was trapped and alone with hunters chasing him down to finish the job they started. He couldn’t stop running. He couldn’t, because if he did he could say goodbye to flying ever again. He’d never grow his wings back, and he’d look like a useless disgusting human.

He’d be normal.

Flying was the only hybrid skill, the only uniqueness about him. Tommy would rather die than ever have that stripped away from him. Chopping away bone, muscle, and feather - all in the interest of earning a few gold coins! Well, fuck them. His body barely running on energy as it was, his legs gave out on him as he fell to the ground again.

No. Please.

He heard footsteps, flipping around to see the blonde man. Pure fear gripped him for the first time in his life. He scooted backwards as the man tried to approach. Another pathetic attempt at escaping - why was he even trying anymore? His back hit a tree trunk, his wings shrinking back, as scared as he was. Yet, the blonde man moved closer.

“Stay back! Stay back, or…” Tommy struggled, quickly moving to grab a rock, holding it up in some sort of threat. As if a rock could take down a hybrid hunter. “...or I will mess you up, bro!”

The blonde man stopped walking forward. “Look, I know you’re confused and scared, I would be too. But I promise, I’m not gonna hurt you.”

“Liar! I won’t let you take them!”

The man’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “Take them…? I…” He looked down at the teenager in sympathy. “I don’t want your wings, I swear!”

“Bullshit!” Tommy yelled. “I know your game, stop acting so innocent! You can’t lure me in, you can’t make me trust a single word you say, hunter!”

“I’m not... I’m not a hunter, okay?” Phil said, stepping closer and making Tommy tense. He sat down four feet away from the teen, taking a deep breath before shouldering off his green robe, leaving the white tank. Immediately, a pair of translucent, metallic wings unfurled from his back, so large Tommy almost felt intimidated. Tommy wanted to say something, but words died on his throat. Phil shrugged his shoulders after stretching his wings out looking up toward the avian. He awkwardly smiled. “...well mate, I’m like you.”

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

General Taglist (Tell me if you want to be added/removed!):

@bones-sprouts

@benzel

@foolishcaptains

[hajimeiwaswife]

SCALES

Word count: 2,1K

Warnings: mermaid sex, tail touch.

Summary: Prince Oikawa Toru wants you as his mermaid Princess.

Contrary to the popular believe, there is light at the bottom of the ocean. The sun's light and warmth does not arrive, but the lightbulb corals engage the dark water in beautiful and colourful rays that give life to the society of the deep.

Among the pink, turquois and yellow water you danced, your beauty surpassed that of the reef you lived in. Ever since you were born the reef had been your home, that little space of the ocean being your haven, your safe place. You wanted to die in the same place you were born, so you weren't planning on ever leaving the reef.

You knew everyone around, from your parents to the seaweed seller, from the librarian to the human-things seller. A little community of mermaids where no one was out of tune with the rest, a place in the ocean to live a peaceful life.

That was until the prince Oikawa fixed his eyes on you. There had been rumours for some time about him having to find a suitor, how he would be the next in the throne. His search had been intense, no one was enough for the strong and handsome merman, for the prince, for the next in the line of succession.

You were unaware of his decision; you didn't even know that he had passed your reef at all. Again, in the life you were living you really didn't care about princes or princesses, those royals were too far from your lifestyle for you to pay attention to them.

So why, why were you now under his custody? Why had he locked you down on his bedroom? What had changed so much for you to be away from your reef and family? No one did a thing to stop his army when they came for you.

"At the behest of Prince Oikawa Toru the First, you are claimed as the new bride and heir to the throne."

After that, the knights took you to the castle in a dolphin drawn carriage. You were aware of the danger these animals pose, even domesticated they were known to rape all species, under water or terrestrial, they didn't care. There many cases of mermaids pregnant by dolphins.

That thought occupied your mind the whole trip, taking you away for a moment from the horrible fate that waited for you on the Prince's chamber. You felt dizzy and nauseous, scare as the nights carried you along the place.

The castle was breath-taking, you had to admit. White walls and Corinthian columns decorated the hall. You could dissipate the statues of ancient kings and queens, the torsos build in white marble and the tails decorated in colourful gems. If it wasn't for the situation you were currently living, you would have admired with more deliberation the marvellous surroundings of the castle.

At the end of the corridor of the third flour, a giant wooden door stood. The brown and golden stood out among the white foundations. You knew, it was the door of the Prince's chambers. You didn't try to scape, there was no use; even if you tried you could get beheaded. But, wouldn't that be a better fate than what awaited in there? Only time would tell.

"Go in." ordered on of the knights, pushing you inside the room, "Prince Toru will be here in a few minutes. Don't you dare move."

They locked the door after leaving you near the king-sized bed and you ran towards the windows to see if there was any way you could swim out of there. What a surprised to see all of them guarded, what were you even thinking?

You waited there for some time, each minute agonizingly painful, thinking that at any moment the Prince could enter and that you would have to face your destiny. Millions of questions passed your brain, the next one more perturbed than the previous one. 'Will he just marry me and leave me be? Or will I be his sex slave? What if he makes me have hundreds of kids? Is that even allowed in monarchy?'

Anxiety was eating you alive, that was until a shiver passed your whole body when you heard the door opening. The enter the most handsome and ethereal being you had even seen; however, he was the most intimidating and scary monster under the sea at the same time.

Brunet hair moved along the dance of the water; porcelain skin shining like the corals of your reef; perfect nose scrunched as he smiled in a oh-so-beautiful smirk; his brown eyes gazed at you the same way a hunter looks at his pray, intense and amused. His broad shoulders paved the way to his muscular arms and veiny hands and to his toned chest and torso. His pectorals were defined, pink nipples greeting you from afar. His abs were those of a God himself, it was noticeable he took care of his body. But his tail, oh, his tail. Turquoise, light blue, white and light green were combined in his scales, bright and beautiful. His tail was one of a kind. Larger than any you had even seen, thicker, too. A golden aura surrounded his entire body.

Not a word could come out of your mouth, too occupied trying not to salivate at the sight of the man in front of you. He chuckled at your pathetic form, he expected that to be your reaction as he had had the same one when he saw you for the first time, even if he didn't want to admit it. Passing by your reef had caused him a hard-on the moment he laid his gaze on you.

"Good evening, sweetheart." he greeted, breaking the silence and welcoming you to the real world, "How was the trip?"

"Uh?" it wasn't what you were expecting, you thought he was going to introduce himself first.

"Oh, I see, too tired to talk." he chuckled again, mischief in his eyes augured no good, "And here I was, hoping to have a long night with you." he sighed, laying on his bed dramatically without tearing his eyes from you.

You stiffed. Yes, he was attractive, but you weren't going to sleep with him after knowing him for a minute and a half. He noticed your reaction and smirked, sitting up, his tail swimming from left to right.

"What a dirty minded we have here! I meant talking, honey."

He was teasing you, you could feel his amusement at 'playing with his food'. He knew that what he said could be taken in another sense. Then, why were you getting excited?

"Would you like anything to drink? I don't like to show off, but we have the best red seaweed wine of the seven seas."

"No, thank you." you said, not trusting drinking alcohol and less in his presence.

"You talk! And you have a very melodic voice, my love." Toru sighed again, smiling cheekily at you.

You shivered, the feeling of being in constant alert and of wanting to give in both in your mind. There was something about him that didn't let you at ease, but that was driving you crazy for his attention.

"Are you sure you don't want anything? After such a long trip you must be thirsty," he offered again, a fake pout on his lips giving him a childish aspect.

"... Okay." you finally accepted, the need for something to drink too strong.

"So, tell me, Y/N," he started, coming closer to you, "are you glad I chose you to be my future wife? You can say the truth, I won't be mad."

"How do you know my name?" saying you were shocked would be an understatement, you hadn't told him anything about you yet.

"Let's say that when I'm passionate about something I can get very... invested in knowing everything about it. In this case it's you, Y/N."

You didn't know when he started, but his left hand was touching your tail. You could feel pleasure growing inside you, too aroused to tell him to stop, hands so smooth against your scales that everything you wanted was for him to touch... Wait, what?

"Prince Toru, what are you...?"

"Toru."

"What?"

"You can call me Toru, darling." you could feel his breath against your neck, his tongue licking it when he was wetting his lips.

"Okay, Toru, could you please stop?"

He moved a little so he could look you in the eyes, his brown ones so dark because of lust that his pupil was impossible to detect. You hissed at the sight, he really was beautiful, but you didn't know him, so why were you thinking about letting him use you?

"For the look in your eyes you don't want me to stop," he whispered, closing the gap between your faces and giving you a small peck, "I'll trust your body language."

Next thing you know, his lips are on yours kissing you fiercely. An unknown force within you pushed you to kiss him back, his taste too sweet for you to decline. His tongue licked your bottom lip, asking for you to give him access, something you needn't to think about. Tongues intertwined, his hands continued to touch your tail, fingers too close to your pussy.

At some point, maybe between his incessant kisses to your neck and his bites to your nipples, he stood with you to the middle of the room, swimming elegantly. When his abs touched your belly, you knew there was no turning back, but why would you want to?

His mouth around your right nipple, teeth biting it until he was satisfied. He locked his gaze with yours, desire clear in his eyes, something else in there. Was he asking for permission? Now? You just nodded.

He entered you with delicacy, his long and thick dick paving the way until he bottomed out. His breathy moans mixed with yours, feeling the veins at the base of his cock too much.

He started thrusting, the mating dance making it look as pleasurable as it was. Wet sounds from your pussy and the water around you accompanied the whines and groans you both were mouthing. His hands still touching your tail were too overwhelming, his delicious thrusts were making you mind foggy.

Up and down, snake like movements flouting in the middle of the room. "Moan my name, c'mon, don't be ―fuck― shy."

"T-toru," you whined, a wonderful feeling rising at your stomach, "I'm close."

"Let me cum inside," he begged, his movements sloppier, sweat mixing with water, bubbled forming around the two of you, "let me breed you."

"Fuck, Toru, yes, breed me please." you moaned, too dizzy because of the pleasure, "I want your child."

At that moment your orgasm exploded, the most delicious feeling you had ever felt wrapped you in the form of Toru's arms. He came not too much later, dying your walls in white, breeding you.

You both stood there, his dick pulsating inside of you, your walls clenching at it, a sense of euphoria in you. He pushed his cock out of you, looking at you with a small, genuine smile on his mouth.

"You want to have my child, uh?" he chuckled, bringing you to the bed so you both could lay.

"I didn't―"

"I know, it was in the heat of the moment."

Silence took over the atmosphere. You didn't know him one bit, but after the mating dance you shared, you were more at ease with him, calmer, maybe he wasn't that bad. However, that didn't mean you were going to marry him without getting to know him better.

His tail wrapped around yours, after your orgasm it was still too sensitive, but you decided to let him do what he wanted. Scales against scales, chest against chest, sharing the cold of the under-sea creatures.

"I was thinking about showing you around tomorrow," he commented, smiling a little at you. He was adorable, and you discovered in that moment that the facade he had shown you at first was nothing but fake.

"That sounds nice. But I won't marry you unless―"

"Don't worry, I wasn't planning on forcing you."

"Excuse me, sir, we had just fucked because you touched my tail out of nowhere."

He felt silent, lips pressed in a line, his tail moving nervously as he giggled a little, like a kid who had just been caught playing mischief.

"I won't force you to do something you don't want to do."

"You're insufferable, Prince Toru."

"Just for you, future Princess Y/N."

[fatefulfaerie]

A Century Apart Part 1/2

Kakariko without the stench of blood in the air was frankly sickening to Zelda’s lungs. 

She had trouble breathing in the air that took so long to clear, that had forgotten the war of a century prior, that was normal to an entire country of people that had become accustomed to a post-apocalyptic Hyrule. 

When she had first arrived here, Link draped as best as she could manage over his horse, she was frankly overwhelmed with nausea, some of it due to her worry at Link collapsing moments after an unanswered question, some of it due to the blood caked on his tunic, and some of it due to her terrible, terrible, stomach twisting guilt for making it here alive. 

It was night now, and the twelve hours that Link spent recuperating in his slumber had felt to Zelda like an entire week. She tossed around a circular slice of orange carrot as she sat with worry twinging her heart. Normally sitting on the floor to eat as the Sheikah were accustomed to would have made her back hurt, but she paid little mind to her back.

Impa cleared her throat, and so Zelda looked up and across the table. The noise was so familiar that she almost expected to see the Impa she knew, in her twenties and incredibly agile.

Yet this Impa had eyes that had aged, eyes that had faded from a red as bright as cranberries to a hazel, a common side effect of Sheikah aging.

“You’ve hardly touched your food,” Impa said, wrinkles and all, her face more spotted and much more round nowadays. “I know the carrots aren’t your absolute favorite but you always used to love when I made Seafood Rice Balls.”

Zelda nodded, and faked a small smile, although it came off as a simple pursing of her lips.

“Yeah, I…I remember,” she muttered quietly as she tore away her glance, looking back down at her plate. The scientist within her knew that she was, in fact, hungry and needed food to sustain herself, yet the princess with her wasn’t quite ready for such indulgence, for such luxury. 

She began with a carrot.

It was soft, obviously well-cooked as her teeth bit upon food for the first time in a hundred years. It was buttered and salted and spiced with something she didn’t recognize, something they wouldn’t have typically served at the castle.

She almost forgot how to swallow as the chewed-up orange mush threatened to trail down her throat, but she gulped the single slice of carrot down nonetheless. 

It felt strange, eating, and it felt strange that it felt strange.

She could tell Impa was watching her eat, especially as she dove the chopsticks into the Rice Balls that, over a hundred years, she forgot she missed.

“When was the last time Link was in Kakariko?” Zelda asked, reacquainting herself with the texture and taste of the white rice, the seasoned fish on top of it, the leafy seaweed around it. She didn’t dare to meet Impa’s glance.

“About a week ago,” Impa said. “He came to restock, as he does occasionally. It wasn’t a long visit, though. I suppose he had places to be.”

Zelda nodded, using the cloth napkin on her lap to wipe away any stray particles of food from her mouth. It was almost an instinct, the way she was trained to always be proper, the way her back was straight were she sat, the way she refused to let herself be and just put her elbows on the table. Paya obviously had no problem with it when she ate earlier. Zelda envied her casual manner, living decades upon decades away from a kingdom.

Zelda didn’t expect Impa to reach out and grab her hand, and thus she almost ripped her hand away she was so unaccustomed to it. Zelda looked up.

“He is going to be okay,” Impa insisted slowly and calmly with eyes aged with wisdom. Zelda had no choicest to truly trust them. “He pushed himself very hard to save Hyrule and to bring you back. I would wager he hasn’t slept in days…and the injuries he ignored, well, it’s about time they caught up to him.”

“S-sorry to interrupt,” Paya stammered. Zelda didn’t even hear her come back down the stairs. “It…it’s Link.”

“What’s wrong?” Zelda asked standing up completely panicked. “Is he okay?”

“Oh gosh I shouldn’t have phrased it like that,” Paya said. “He’s fine, he’s just stirring. You said you wanted to be there when he woke up?”

“Yes,” Zelda said, nodding, her hand lightly fisted at her chest. “Y-yes, of course. Please lead the way.”

He didn’t look any different when Zelda finished the last steps of the stairs, Link coming into view. His face was still terribly scratched up and bruised. The only difference now was that Paya had-and she would have to ask later how a Sheikah could be so stealthy as to wrap a person’s chest without waking them up-dressed Link in bandages to brace his broken ribs. There was a fair amount of blood on the bed from the gash on his leg, but it seemed to be well-sewn up now, the wound cleaned and covered with a fresh bandage. There was also a half-empty bottle of a familiar dark purple elixir, a common painkiller among Hylians. Zelda used to use it for headaches.

She could she the way his blue eyes had begun to shine through eyelids. The room was dark, lighted only with candles that smelled of lavender and honey. It seemed so long ago that they had brought Link in, Zelda suggesting they keep the main lanterns in the room doused so that Link could perhaps sleep sounder.

“Link?” She asked as she stepped forward, the combination of her lack of stealth and her thin brown sandals making the wooden floor creak.

She knelt at his bedside and repeated her query.

“Link,” she said. It was now a whisper, like she was pretending to be the lover she never was to him.

The fatigued hero hummed as he blinked open his eyes lethargically.

“Zelda,” he said, softly in his half-awake state with a small smile. The former princess assumed it was because he knew of her presence before his head rolled over to her and he flipped out with wide eyes. It was as if someone had put smelling salt underneath his nose, the way he bolted upright.

“P-princess! I…” Zelda watched with equal parts awe and glee as he ignored the extremely likely pain in his ribs to fix his messy bedhead. Not to say he was in any way successful. “I’m sorry, I…”

“Link,” Zelda said, in such a soothing way that Link froze immediately. It may have also been because she placed a hand on his cheek. Zelda gently guided him back down to lay on the pillow.

“You look fine,” she assured him. “And you are in no condition to do anything but rest.”

Link’s icy blue eyes pleaded for something Zelda couldn’t place. They looked at her, studied her in a way Zelda wasn’t used to.

“Princess, I…” he began, but his words faltered, as if his intended sentence just walked off a cliff, accidentally ran out of room on the ledge and was now falling and forgotten. “I would like to call you Zelda,” he finally said. “Is that all right?”

Zelda nodded, and had to keep from tearing up.

“Yes,” she said, water making her green eyes shine like emeralds. “I would actually prefer that.”

It looked as if Link had something else to say, and yet he hesitated with a hitched breath. Zelda hesitated too, not what to say, but whether or not it was fair to reveal that she could read him like a book. It was a byproduct of their time together a hundred years ago, a time he may not have any recollection of at all, a time he may even be scared of. It was for those reasons that she demonstrated her patience instead, taking his hand and fooling herself that she was conveying her care with her eyes.

“I remember you, by the way,” Link said.

Zelda shifted slightly. There were so many memories between them and so many things that could be assumed between the memories that she couldn’t help but fear what story he had construed.

“I remember you not liking me,” Link continued, Zelda sighing, opening and closing her eyes with a slight cringe. Of all the things for him to remember. 

But he didn’t stop there.

“I remember you warming up to me and us becoming friends…at least I think.”

Zelda had looked down at her hand, the way her thumb ran up and down his palm.

“Do you remember anything else?” Zelda asked, tilting up her head. Link seemed genuinely out of answers and that’s what broke her heart the most.

“Is there something I should remember?” Link asked. Zelda shook her head.

“No,” Zelda said quietly, detaching her hand from Link’s. “It’s nothing of consequence.”

She moved her hand to his forehead, brushing aside a lock of his dirty blonde bangs. 

“I’m glad you’re recovering well, Link,” she said softly. “I’ll leave you to your rest. We can talk more later if you’d like.”

She stood up to leave but didn’t get far, Link’s hand grabbing her wrist and seizing her heart.

“Wait,” was the word he spoke to explain himself. Zelda turned her head to look over her shoulder. She couldn’t help but be surprised that Link had indeed, meant to grab her, was entreating her with those soulful blue eyes, deep as an ocean and filled to the brim with conflicting emotions.

“There’s more to it than what I remember,” he said. “There’s…well there’s how those memories make me feel.”

“What do you mean?” Zelda said, turning her body but refusing to kneel at his bedside, her cautious heart already shattered enough to not risk being broken even more.

“Whenever I remembered something that happened between us,” Link began. “I would try to draw you, would try to capture your beauty, but the image of you was always fleeting. Sometimes I forgot whether your hair was truly blonde, whether your eyes were brown or green, whether or not freckles dotted upon your nose, your cheeks, what the shape of your face was. But each time I tried to draw you I felt like I was getting both closer to and farther away from perfection.”

“Link,” Zelda said as she shook her head. “I don’t understand.”

“I didn’t either at first,” Link continued. “I didn’t understand why I was so enthralled by your beauty, why the sound of your voice twinged my heart, why the thought of your touch made me feel the warmth of my blood.” 

Zelda knew what he was describing, and she knew it well. It was for that reason that she couldn’t believe his words, that she searched within her lungs for the ability to breathe.

“Link,” she said breathlessly, finally kneeling down. “A-are you saying…?

She couldn’t even finish her question but Link nodded nonetheless.

“Once I realized it was a crush,” he said. “I tried to ignore it, telling myself that nothing in my memories indicated anything more than an obligatory friendship, that it was disrespectful to think in such a way of someone who was royalty, but…” He bit his lip. “No cliff was as easy to descend as the one that dictates love. I fell quickly and I fell fast. It felt familiar too, like something was in ruins inside me but this time, it was simple to salvage, to rebuild and to…” Link chuckled. “I can’t think of another word.”

Zelda was speechless, her mouth slightly parted and her eyes frozen. Link didn’t expect his declaration of love to be so paralyzing.

“I-I guess I,” Link said, continuing in the absence of Zelda’s words. “I kind of got the feeling that you also have similar…” Link looked for another word, but it didn’t exist in his brain “…feelings…” He inwardly cringed. “So I figured I would bring up the subject...but maybe I...shouldn’t...have?”

Zelda was quiet, almost too quiet, before she stood and finally said five words, five words that left Link in the dust of such an anticlimactic response.

“You never talked this much,” she said, before shooting him with green eyes filled with conflict and pity and turning around to walk back down the stairs.

[lazarusemma]

Aziraphale stares out toward the horizon. It’s almost imperceptible in the darkness, only identifiable because it’s where the faint glimmer of starlight fades into the fainter shimmer of reflection. There is no moon tonight, and just the slightest breeze to stir the water. The waves are quiet; their crash at the shore is hardly a whisper. The air smells of salt and seaweed. Beneath his feet, the sand is cool. The tide’s going out, so the beach remembers dampness. The ocean is withdrawing. Aziraphale can understand that.

Without realizing it, he has folded his arms. It’s a bit chilly out, late night or early morning as it is, and he’s only wearing his nightclothes, but his body language has nothing to do with the cool, wet air. He closes his eyes as he lets the gentle wind play across his hairline to carry away the sensation of stickiness. He, too, smells of salt.

He draws a deep breath. Holds it. Holds it a little longer. Then lets it out, slowly, carefully, allowing the action to linger and become a moment. Another inhale, another exhale. Another moment. Again. Again. Aziraphale clings to these. They taste like sea air and interrupted sleep. This is not why they are valuable.

When he opens his eyes, the stars have shifted in the sky. It might not be noticeable to anyone else, to anyone with poorer eyesight or with a less comprehensive knowledge of the night’s patterns. Aziraphale has had an excellent guide to these. If he wished, he could use this shift to trace the passage of the precise amount of time he has allowed to slip away. He does not. Some things do not need to be measured. Some time has more worth uncounted. It is enough that the stars have moved. It is enough that the earth has moved beneath his feet, moving him with it, moving through space and time with its billions of passengers.

The sky still contains neither moon nor sun, but there is a suspicious lightness to the edge of the darkness, the horizon line Aziraphale has his eyes fixed on. Dawn is approaching. Streaks of red-gold clouds will appear soon to be doubled by the expanse of seawater below. Beautiful colors, he thinks, and is glad to find he knows why he thinks it. Pleased to be able to think it.

A hand lands on Aziraphale’s arm and he startles. He turns.

“Hey,” says Crowley, smiling in that way he does when he’s woken before he meant to be awake, when he’s still half-lost in sleep and too drowsy to pretend to be anything but soft. “Ev’rythin’ okay, angel?”

Aziraphale smiles. “Yes,” he says, of course. “Yes, thank you, I’m fine. It’s all fine. Go back to sleep. Did I wake you? I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to.”

“Didn’t,” Crowley insists, and shakes his head. “Just felt something was... off. Different. Thought maybe something was wrong. So I rolled over to ask you but you weren’t there. What’re you doing out here?”

“Oh, nothing. Looking. Thinking. Really, go back in, you’ll be cold.” Aziraphale gives Crowley’s hand a squeeze where it still rests on his arm.

“Not until you come back too.” Crowley tips his head. “Bed’ll be cold now, if you’re not in it. C’mon, inside and you can tell me what’s going on.”

There is a brief moment in which Aziraphale considers saying everything. He opens his mouth. He searches for words. He closes his mouth. Eventually he says, instead, “I’m fine. Look at you, you’re shivering.”

Crowley is shivering, a little, his pyjamas even less suited to the chill than Aziraphale’s and his form significantly less insulated. “Why d’you keep saying you’re fine?” he says, rubbing his hands up and down his own arms now to prevent himself from dancing on the spot to keep warm. He pauses. He blinks, slowly, thinking things through, and Aziraphale watches him have the thought before he voices it: “You’ve had another nightmare, haven’t you?”

It would do no good to deny it.  Aziraphale wets his lips. “Yes.”

“Aziraphale,” says Crowley, and it’s amazing how many ways he can say it. This time is all tenderness. He lifts a hand to Aziraphale’s cheek and Aziraphale does not pull away. Low tide can only last so long. “Aziraphale,” Crowley says again, and this time it is a desperation, a pleading kind of helplessness.

“I know. I’m sorry,” Aziraphale tells him, because he is.

“Don’t be sorry. Please don’t be sorry.” Crowley swallows. Aziraphale watches the bob of his throat, the movement of his lips. “You know I want you to tell me these things?”

The way he makes it a question stings in Aziraphale’s eyes like sand. “I do know that. Of course I know that.”

Then why--? Crowley doesn’t ask. He understands a lot of things, Aziraphale’s husband, things like star maps and plant needs and guilt. He says, “Good,” and they don’t mention all the weight that word once held.

“Next time,” Aziraphale promises, and dips his head to press a kiss to the hand cupping his face.

“Thank you,” whispers Crowley, and Aziraphale isn’t sure if he means for the kiss or the promise or both or everything, but he’s pretty sure it doesn’t really matter which of those is correct.

Aziraphale steps forward to wrap an arm around Crowley’s shoulders. “You’re positively frigid, dear,” he says. “Come. Shall I make us some tea, or do you just want to get back under the covers?”

[lluvguts]

Cool Blue ; Chapter One

⤹⋆⸙͎۪۫｡˚۰˚☽˚⤹⋆⸙͎۪۫｡˚۰˚☽˚⤹⋆⸙͎۪۫｡˚

through sunsets we wander

⤹⋆⸙͎۪۫｡˚۰˚☽˚⤹⋆⸙͎۪۫｡˚۰˚☽˚⤹⋆⸙͎۪۫｡˚

☽ warnings: none

☽ fic masterlist

⤹⋆⸙͎۪۫｡˚۰˚☽˚⤹⋆⸙͎۪۫｡˚۰˚☽˚⤹⋆⸙͎۪۫｡˚

By the time Alberto had rowed out into the furthest stretch of waters toward that quaint little island he'd been eyeing for months, it was already nearing dinnertime. He promised his foster father, Massimo, and younger sister, Giulia, he would return to the Marcovaldo home with a lovely new piece for their kitchen or else Massimo's hearty dish of alfredo wouldn't be served to him.

Alberto had grinned at the promise. He knew that even if he came home with a stick figure drawing of himself, sitting cheekily on a beach someplace, they'd hang it on the icebox and love it regardless.

He'd done a few paintings of the sunset from their home, sure, but it was the beautiful curve of greenery this approaching island offered that Alberto just couldn't refuse. There hung something familiar in it's many trees and overgrown bushes somehow, but Alberto just wasn't able to place it. As he neared he hurried to moor the boat by the section of the island mostly taken up by dark, porous shore rocks. He chanced to teeter at the bow before jumping onto the closest boulder, its surface nicking his heels in a few spots but he didn't mind. He hated to wear shoes ever since he was a child, and Massimo had even claimed when he'd discovered Alberto as a wide-eyed toddler, he was absolutely shoe-free. The ground was damp with the constant ebb and flow of the ocean, and for the heat seeping into Alberto's toes from the sparkling sun-kissed sand, he felt oddly at home.

Alberto glanced at the sun, hardly able to resist reaching out a hand to remark on the beauty of it. He spun back to fetch his bag of paint supplies, clutching the case to his broad chest so as not to let anything plop into the ocean. From where he was standing, precariously but full of glee on the rocky shoreline, there was a small alcove just beyond Alberto's line of sight. There were a few times he'd wished he'd brought at least a pair of sandals--or perhaps he could use his work smock and tie it around his heels--as he walked down the beach, because the ground was steadily rising in temperature as the sun baked the sand, but he tried not to complain much when there was so much to marvel around him.

He set his bag down on the ground by a rocky pool, which Alberto promptly sat beside and rolled his pantlegs up so he could dangle his ankles in the warm water. From where he sat, he was given a perfect view of the sun, creeping closer and closer to the horizon, so Alberto pulled out his pad of paper and a few pencils just to sketch for a while. He shaded the trees around him, drew each jagged rock, and perfected the way the sun kissed the ocean and left sparkling trails down the horizon. He could draw today, just to soak up the scenery and get his concepts down, then bring out the paints tomorrow. Massimo would probably joke and ruffle his already messed up head of curls once he got back, with smudged fingers and no canvas, but say all was fine. As he worked he hummed to himself, a song from some old record Giulia played on their gramophone (or, as a younger Alberto favored calling it, the magic-singing-lady-machine) after dinner and the kids were cleaning up. Still focused on the page, steadily filling, Alberto reached out a hand and groped around in his bag for an eraser without looking. When he didn't find one, he grumbled a bit and pulled his hand back, only to realize he'd shook loose a few sticks of charcoal and a paintbrush that rolled across the ground and fell, soundlessly, into the pool. The brush floated along the surface but the rest slipped below the surface.

"Merda!" Alberto hissed, trying to grapple one of the charcoals with his toes but it only sank further into the murky blue below. He shut his eyes and opened them again, more than willing to dive down there and retrieve those precious charcoal sticks. They cost him quite a few allowances and extra shifts at the Pescheria.

But then something happened that made Alberto leap from his spot and hold his dripping knees closer to his chest.

One stick of charcoal was flung from the pool and landed on the grass a few feet from Alberto's bag, soaking the ground in black. Then came up another, this time closer to Alberto. He flinched at the torrent of gravity-defying art supplies, allowing himself to inch closer to the mouth of the pool, reflecting his green eyes wide, breath held, waiting. Another reflection flashed across the pool's surface, something vibrant that made Alberto look up. But there were no trees or even a bird to cast the reflection.

Alberto let his head fall. And, blinking back at him, with the paintbrush that had been bobbing balanced on its nose, was what looked like a fish. But fish didn't have huge yellow eyes that made Alberto think of his cat at home, Machi, but not in an endearing way. Fish weren't that smart. Alberto had seen sea turtles and dolphins many times before, and they were intelligent, sure, but nothing compared to the humanlike stare this creature had fixed on him now. It stuck it's face out of the water, wincing at the harsh sunlight making its scales shine a deep teal. When its big yellow eyes trained back on Alberto, he saw the creatures features darken from underneath the water line.

"I think you dropped this," It whispered, in such a soft and shy way it made Alberto take in a ragged breath. Okay, fish definitely didn't do that. Was this thing...actually talking to him? The creature stuck its webbed fingers from the pool and took the paintbrush, staring at it for a moment before handing it out to a speechless Alberto.

"Woah! Uh...H-Hello?" Alberto breathed, gingerly taking back the brush.

The not-fish waved, only a slight shake of its hand above the surface of the water, and Alberto noticed the thin claws on the ends of its fingers.

"I'm not supposed to talk to you," It whispered again. Alberto watched the stream of bubbles that floated along the pool's surface as it talked. He still had no idea what he was conversing with, the creature seeming less and less like a fish and more as something from his imagination. It waded in the small pool, he noticed, forearms paddling softly without stirring the water. Its movements so effortless it left Alberto in awe. And if he gazed into the deeper parts of the water, he swore he saw a tail lazily lapping behind the creature.

"I...uh, I could only imagine why," Alberto squeaked. The paintbrush was still in his hands but he was now gripping it so tight his tan skin was turning white at the knuckles.

The creature stifled a giggle by placing one clawed hand to its mouth, but even still Alberto caught a glimpse of its sharp teeth. If he hadn't run away now, that was a pretty good red flag to be packing his things and high-tailing home--but he didn't. He wasn't exactly afraid of this thing staring back at him. Just a bit baffled by it, he was dying to look closer but the more Alberto craned his neck down into the pool to see, the creature shied back into the depths.

"What are you?" Alberto asked aloud, more to himself but still he knew the thing heard him. "Sorry! Was that rude? I'm not trying to be mean, but you aren't exactly the type of seal we'd see in Portorosso."

The creature's cheeks turned a darker blue, and it glared at Alberto. "I am not a seal." It hissed, its tiny lip pulled back to reveal that set of sharp teeth again.

"I get it! I get it! I said I was sorry! I'm just trying to figure this all out," Alberto scratched his head, looking back at his sketchbook for a moment.

"I don't even look anything like a seal!" It was still stuck on the stupid seal comment, with its blue eyebrows furrowed and eyes dark. The more Alberto heard the creature talk he realized, with a flush of embarrassment or something else, that it was a boy. Not a thing. Not an it.

"Okay, so you're not a seal. We've established this." Alberto was gathering his sketchbook and supplies to put back in the bag. The paintbrush was resting at the mouth of the pool. "Are you some type of...seahorse? Or an overgrown fish?"

The boy spit out a stream of water into Alberto's face.

"I'm a monster," He said promptly, his voice on the edge of staying shy or holding a grudge for the seal comment. "So...you should be afraid of me."

Alberto let out a laugh. This cute little thing? "Sure, sure. That makes much more sense." He stuck out his hand at the boy. "Well, nice to meet you, sea monster...Or, uh, whatever you are. I'm Alberto Marcovaldo."

"Alberto..." The boy repeated in a hushed voice, looking down at the water now as he said it. He flinched backward at Alberto's hand, looking up at his fingers with burning yellow eyes. Without knowing much of what to do, the boy kicked his legs until he was treading the water, letting the top of his head graze Alberto's open palm. The small fins around the crown of his head brushed Alberto's hand, smooth and slippery like seaweed. Alberto decided he was quite pleased with the weird texture of it.

The boy closed his eyes and let out a small noise, the side of his face now pressed to Alberto's hand. He had a fin on his cheek that neared his fingertips, and when Alberto touched it the boy trilled, almost in greeting.

"Oh, uh, are you ok? I think you're supposed to shake my hand." Alberto stated. He found his face felt uncomfortably hot watching the weird gesture the boy had just made, and even more so at the soft noises rumbling in his throat.

For a moment the creature considered extending his hand and taking Alberto's outstretched fingers, but stopped with a low growl, blushing blue.

"I'm--ugh! I'm not even supposed to be out here!" He wailed. "If they find me out here with, with a land monster? My mom's gonna kill me! I've uh, I've got to go, so um..." The boy looked at Alberto's paintbrush sitting within his reach and took it.

"Goodbye."

He ducked back under the water. In a second his head of blue fins dashed back up.

"Forever."

Land monster? Alberto could laugh. He'd never heard that one before. But he scanned the mess before him, the slimy puddle of water next to his leg that the boy had left when he took (stole) his paintbrush, the droplets scattered along his sketchbook, all blazing in angry red as the sun finished its journey along the sky.

Alberto scrambled up from his spot, mentally slapping himself. He had a hard time rowing the boat this far out while it was daytime, it was sure going to be hell finding his way home in the near darkness. As he stumbled along the shore and dropped his things into the boat, he wondered if he had the right paint colors for the boy's eyes.

Wait, he hadn't even gotten his name! Do sea monster-things have names? Like humans do? Oh, what did it matter? The boy said he could never come back to the island again. Their awkward five minute interaction was all they had. But Alberto was still stewing it all over as he made his way back to Portorosso, now relying on the oil lamp beside him and the glowing stars above.

/ / /

"Figlio, you're late."

Alberto rushed to hang up his bag and wash his hands. Giulia seemed to have been stuck with doing Alberto's dinner chores in his absence, setting the table and pouring waters. When he passed her she stuck her tongue out at him and smashed his offending pinky toe with her sandal.

"Ouch!" Alberto steeled his eyes at her from across the table, but she only grinned devilishly. Massimo was still expecting some sort of apology for almost missing dinner so he cleared his throat and pulled back the chair for his father to sit. "Sorry, Papa. The place where I set up my paints was pretty far, and I got carried away and lost track of time."

"Blech, Alberto, you stupido, at least change your clothes...you reek like fish..." Giulia sneered as Massimo handed them their plates.

"Hush, Giulia." Signor Marcovaldo gave her a small pat on her shoulder then turned to Alberto. All concern lost, he asked. "Where did you go to paint?"

"The island...?" Alberto chanced a look across his water glass to see their equal expression of shock and horror.

"The island?" Giulia shrieked. She let her fork fall and alfredo sauce splattered on the table cloth. "Fratello, that place is swarming with monstro marino!"

"Sea monsters, really Giulia?" Alberto tried to sound calm, but his heart rate picked up. "There's no such thing."

"Actually, Alberto, there is." Massimo pointed to the newspaper clippings decorating one kitchen wall, still frames of what appeared to be creatures with glistening teeth and bloodied scales.

"But Papa, those papers are fake! You said so yourself! Ercole's father only made those to scare people." Alberto argued.

"They are a menace to this town." Massimo stared into his plate of pasta. "My only hope is that you never get to see so yourself. They are killers."

Well, the one I met today didn't seem like a bloodthirsty monster, Alberto wanted to spit back, but held his tongue.

"Did you at least get to draw anything?" Giulia asked. Alberto sighed, glad they let the subject on sea monsters drop for the time being.

"Y-Yeah! I actually did," He boasted, rising from the table to fetch his bag. He undid the latch and took out his sketchbook, walking while flipping the latest page open for Giulia and Massimo to see.

Giulia's eyes widened and she barked out a laugh. Massimo smiled faintly, giving Alberto a solitary thumbs up.

"What? What are you laughing about?" Alberto turned the paper around and gasped. The entire page was warped and still damp, the lovely pencil drawings now only faint grey smears along the paper.

"That's-That's not funny!" Alberto growled at Giulia, who was wiping a tear from the corner of her eye. "It was the boat! A wave must have hit the side, or something!"

"Oh, yeah, Alberto. Blame the boat," Giulia giggled.

Alberto huffed and slumped back into his seat. That sea monster.

Machiavelli sashayed into the kitchen, smelling the dinner on the table or perhaps the laughter lightening the air. He curled up next to Alberto's leg on the ground, rubbing his cheek and whiskers along his bare ankle, purring for a taste of the alfredo sauce.

"No, Machi. You can't eat human food." Alberto chastened him, nudging his face away from the table leg. Giulia laughed harder.

"Hah! He smells the fish on you, 'Berto! Were you taking a swim with Papa's catch today, hmm?"

"Giulia, I said that was enough!"

He smells the sea monster on me, Alberto thought. He glanced down at Machi again and stiffened when he realized his purrs had really been growls.

/ / /

"Oh, Giuseppe, I'm so stupid!" Luca dropped his head into his hands and a flurry of bubbles chased his fins. "I can't believe I actually talked to him!"

The school of fish floated beside Luca, unblinking. Giuseppe, the goatfish in interrogation, only blew a tired bubble from his mouth and huddled closer to Luca.

"I saw these weird sticks floating into the water, and they stained the water black like those oil spills Momma had warned be about, but still I went to see what it was!" Luca took Giuseppe by the hand and cradled him to his chest. "I wasn't expecting to see a land monster up there. I just didn't want those things in the water."

"But," Luca continued to himself, as his herd of fish were clearly unable to do much of anything, least of all lend him advice. "That weird stick with the soft thing at the end was really pretty, Giuseppe. It was purple! The wood was purple! How did he do that?"

"It was Alberto that did that, I think. He painted it purple." Luca jumped up in glee, then floated gracefully back onto the rock he'd been sitting on, giggling at the dark sea above.

"Ugh!" Luca was a ball of emotions. "How could I be such an idiota? I took something from The Surface! I had to hide it, of course, but still!" He pet Giuseppe's scales and the goatfish blew some bubbles in Luca's face to calm him down. "He looked so much different than the way Momma talks about the land monsters. Alberto wasn't scary...he didn't have a harpoon, so that's a good sign, right?"

Luca looked to Giuseppe, and sighed. "I don't know what's happening to me..." Luca murmured to himself, gingerly touching his face and remarking how warm it was in the cool ocean water. It had been like that when Alberto was watching him too, with those bright green eyes. Green like the sea glass Luca had collecting on the rocky ledge of his bedroom cave. When he stared at Alberto, something tingled in his belly, burning low and delightful. He knew what that meant, though he tried to press it down into his abdomen until the feeling eventually drifted away.

"Oh, sharks, I'm just a dumb little crab, aren't I? I even tried to scent him! But I couldn't help it! That land monster smelled so...different. Like the sun, you know? All warm and fuzzy...it was so sweet. Oh, if Momma finds out about this...It's not good, Giuseppe. Not good at all."

"Luca, tesoro it's time for dinner!" Signore Paguro called from a few yard away in the Paguro home. Luca gasped and a trail of frightened bubbles drifted pass his eyes. He grabbed his moss-covered staff and herded the school into a more manageable spot for the night, and swam toward home.

[gureishi]

Ohhh! I love your writing!!! Can I please request a fluffy story with Saeyoung for promt 11? Thank you so much, have a nice day!<3

Wowowow, thank you! It makes me so happy to hear that! And I LOVED doing this prompt for you.

eleven: i could only be myself with you around

SaeyoungXReader, T (kissing!), words: 1561

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・

The air is balmy on the beach at night. In the afternoon, the sand was scalding and the sun scorched your eyes. Now, there’s a light breeze rustling the trees, and everything smells fresh-salty-sweet. 

You walk hand-in-hand to the water’s edge. Your figures cast a huge moon shadow over the sand—the day’s footsteps have been washed away, and everything is smooth and dark and pristine.

“I told you it would be better at night,” you say, nudging his shoulder playfully. 

Saeyoung nods slowly. The moon is reflected in his golden eyes, making them look even bigger and brighter than usual.

“Is this a normal people thing or a you thing?” he asks. It’s nearly midnight; there’s no one else out but the two of you.

You laugh quietly. “I don’t think it’s just a me thing. I know other people who like the beach at night.”

He raises his eyebrows.

"Who else are you bringing to the beach at night?” he asks. It’s not an accusation—his tone is playful.

You roll up your pant legs and wiggle your feet into the sand, letting the surf drift over your toes. It’s cold, but not too cold. Saeyoung copies you, yelping as the water hits his ankles.

“Oh, I bring everyone here!” you chirp, splashing a little farther into the water. “Your brother. The whole RFA. Vanderwood. You know.”

Suddenly, a mini wave rushes over your ankles and you spin around. Saeyoung is grinning; he kicks at the sand again and the water splashes around your feet.

“I don’t even wanna think about that!” he says. He moves toward you, leaving a trail of ripples behind him in the water. He’s still only in ankle-deep. “Don’t take other people to the beach at night!”

You laugh, spinning in a circle, loving way the water tugs gently at your ankles. The bottom of your cuffed pants is getting wet now, but you don’t really care.

“I solemnly swear to only have night beach time with Choi Saeyoung from now on,” you say, imitating his tone of voice. You offer him a pinky. He takes it—then lunges forward, pulling you into his arms and squeezing you so tightly that your feet leave the ground.

“You are so cute that I can’t stand it,” he squeals. He wiggles back and forth and the tips of your toes graze the cool water.

“Saeyoung! Put me down!” Your voice comes out breathless. He hoists you up higher in his arms.

“Noooo.”

“Saeyoung!”

He rocks you back and forth, cackling, planting little kisses along your hairline. You see the wave coming before he does—he’s not paying attention, of course, new to the ocean, wrapped up in teasing you. You open your mouth to warn him and he kisses you instead, lips slightly parted. Oh, screw it, you think, and wrap your arms around his neck.

The wave hits you—just as you knew it would—and Saeyoung loses his footing—just as you knew he would. You yelp as you fall; his agent reflexes kick in and he twists, catching himself with an arm so he falls slightly more gracefully. He keeps his other arm around your waist, cushioning you, pulling you on top of him into the frothy shallows.

“We fell!” He sounds almost gleeful. He doesn’t get up, letting the tide wash over him. He’s soaked—the water almost reaches his ears as he lies all the way down.

“I told you,” you gasp into his neck. He cradles you against him and you give in, accepting the water seeping into your clothes. It’s bracing, but not terrible. His chest and arms are warm.

He giggles. “Is this what you do with all those other people on the beach at night?”

You waggle your eyebrows at him, snuggling into his chest (because why not?), feeling the tide lapping at your legs. “Wouldn’t you like to know.”

Ever-so-gently, he combs a hand through your damp hair and pulls your face down to his. He ghosts his lips over yours, and you kiss him back enthusiastically, darting your tongue out to graze his bottom lip. His lips are salty and a little sandy and you take his bottom lip between your teeth, pushing him deeper into the bubbly water and the cool, wet sand.

This time neither one of you sees the wave coming. It hits suddenly, breaking over your entwined bodies and splashing you in the face.

“Gah!” Saeyoung splutters, trying to shield your face from the spray and sit up at the same time.

“This is your fault!” you cry, gasping for air, torn between annoyance and laughter. 

Saeyoung scoops you up in his arms like a baby and leaps up, sending water cascading in all directions. Laughter wins out, of course.

“Ahhhhhh!” He yells a battle cry as he charges for the dry sand, clutching you to his chest. You can only cling to him and laugh, the seawater dripping from your hair onto your face and off your nose.

He collapses on the beach, panting and laughing, and you try to disentangle your limbs from his.

“Never done that before, have you?” you ask, tossing your soaked hair out of your eyes. He jumps to his feet—there’s seaweed sticking to his forehead.

“You know what else I haven’t done before?!” he sings, abruptly taking off down the beach.

“What?” you call to him. You try and ring out your shirt, but it’s a lost cause. The air is warm, so you decide you don’t mind.

Saeyoung doesn’t answer, but sprints back toward you, a long piece of driftwood in his hand. He takes big, purposeful steps as he starts to draw in the sand—huge, as if he’s trying to be make something that can be seen from space. 

And he is, you think. He always is.

He draws the hangul quickly but neatly and you scramble to your feet to take in his work. His writing is clear, cut deeply into the sand. A grin spreads across your face when you realize what he’s doing.

He’s written “Saeyoung and” already and he’s started on your name. You watch him in silence, your hair and clothes dripping onto the sand. He finishes your name and walks a huge circle around the writing, carving a big, slightly lopsided heart. He looks really focused—adorable, you think.

He pulls back at last, dropping the stick on the ground. He turns to you, eyes shining.

“Do you like it?”

You beam at him, taking it all in: the childlike gesture, the eager expression on his face.

“It’s beautiful, babe,” you tell him. He skips to your side and you take his arm with both hands and wrap it around your shoulders. “Can I ask you a question?”

“Mmm?” he hums into your hair. There’s still seaweed on his face and you’re sure your hair smells like salt and dirt.

“When did you stop going by your name?”

He pulls back a little, looking you in the eye. You watch the expressions dance over his face: he’s puzzled at first, then his eyes harden a little. You feel sort of bad for asking.

“When I was told everyone would be safer if I wasn’t me anymore.”

You know who he means by “everyone," of course. His eyes are dark and you hate yourself for making him remember this time.

“I’m sorry,” you murmur, brushing his lips sandy lips with your fingertip. “I should’ve have said it.”

He shakes his head. “No, it’s okay.” And, fixing you with a pointed stare: “Really. I don’t mind.” He brushes your hair back, wipes the salt from your forehead. “I was Luciel because it was best if the people I loved didn’t know Saeyoung. And I was 707 because I was told to become him.”

“I love them all, you know,” you say. The corners of his lips twitch up; the starlight is back in his eyes.

“Ask me when I first thought I wanted to be Saeyoung again,” he says.

“When?” you ask. You turn your body so you’re fully facing him and he wraps his arms around your waist.

“The day I met you,” he says. You raise your eyebrows.

“The day you came to the apartment?” “No. The day you came into the messenger.”

You pull back a little, eyeing him for any indication that he’s teasing you. His face says dead serious.

“You barely knew me! You thought I was an enemy hacker!”

Saeyoung shrugs, his hands traveling over your waist, up your sides. It tickles, but in a good way. “Can’t tell you how I knew,” he says. “I honestly hadn’t thought about my real name in ages. It just…popped into my mind that day. That I might want somebody to know me by my name.”

You launch yourself at him, kissing him fiercely, taking him by surprise.

“Mmph!” he says against your mouth. You laugh and it’s like a gear switches in his brain and he kisses you back just as enthusiastically, his hands roaming up and down your sides.

You pull back a tiny bit, sandy lips just brushing his.

“Maybe it’s obvious, but I’m glad you’re Saeyoung,” you whisper. He giggles as your breath tickles his lips.

“I am too,” he says.

[sleepylixie]

Pearls & Lilies 

Seawalker/Merman Jeongin X Spellcaster! Fem Reader (platonic)

1.6k words, fluff, Beware of a singular mention of injury ( no toes were farmed in the making of this piece of fiction)

Fantasy AU, Supernatural! SKZ, Part-2 of Prince of Pearls from the In Umbra Universe (this can be read individually) 

A/N: I’m back with my favourite merman! A Happy late( in my country and his)  birthday to the Maknae on top Yang Jeongin ehe~ Here is my little addition to the In Umbra fic collection AT LONG LAST. Hope you like this! Do let me know what y’all think :) 

Time flowed slowly in Atlantis, it seemed- almost like the underwater resided in a whole different plane of existence from the world he’d been a part of not too long ago. Jeongin realized this when his mortal body clock prompted him to sleep twice in a day- It was a nice feeling, like he was watching mortal time tick past him without taking him with it. Turned out, he wasn’t wrong.

Atlantis and the expansive merpeople kingdom had an entire plane to themselves, much like the ones the other supernatural races had for themselves- it was called Thallasia.

He remembered sitting with a cherry-haired female mermaid named Yeri and her brother Jungwoo before his first day of classes, listening intently to their long-winded descriptions of Thallasia. They spoke highly of the underwater plane, with its depthless trenches with blinking lights for the houses built into the sides, the meadows filled with coral that glowed in the dark and castles built of granite, agate and studded greenstone.

Jungwoo even went as far as to whisper of a secret pathway into the mortal plane, promising to show him later in the day when he noticed Jeongin’s attention visible pique at the words. That very night, Jungwoo showed him the seaweed-covered tunnel and led straight into the darker, murkier open seas of the mortal plane.

Seawalkers- mortals turned merpeople- were allowed to go back to land whenever they wished provided they never divulge the existence or location of Thallasia and Atlantis. Unlike trueborn merpeople, they retained the power to use feet or fins as they wished, which allowed seawalkers to tread land as and when they wished. The secret of Thallasia was a well-kept one to the landwalking mortals because seawalkers were created woefully rare and far in between. 

That pathway became one of his most frequented corners of Atlantis in no time. Every other weekend’s sunrise would find him slipping through the seaweed and swimming down the long tunnel into the mortal seas. His personal plans of reuniting the merpeople with the landwalkers only solidified with every visit he paid to Busan and the towns that were rapidly developing around his hometown- but with his visits, he came to developing one new relationship. You.

He remembered his first steps on land, Jungwoo’s head poking out of the water as he watched Jeongin with bright, curious eyes. The feel of the sand on his toes pulled a wide grin to his face, his eyes welling up with tears from emotions he was yet to place. It was at that moment when he realised, he missed the land.

He missed having legs, feeling the crisp air in his lungs in the midst of a long run on the sand, feeling the fine grains under his toes. He missed climbing up trees for fresh fruit, his palms and soles chafing against the rough bark of the trees. He missed watching the sunrise and set and the chilly breeze against his arms but most of all, he missed his parents. Despite loving his new seawalker life and all the novelty it offered, it wasn’t entirely his own: Jeongin’s blood might have always sung for the oceans, but his heart was mortal born and raised. 

//

“Hello, seawalker.” Jeongin’s lips quirked up of their own accord when he heard your voice, drawling and accented before you slipped into the chair in bench in front of him. Salen’s Bar and Inn was a supernatural haunt he’d taken to rather quickly, with the boisterous crowd and young owners who knew how to keep their patrons happy. One of the owners named Hongjoong, a former seawalker who had renounced the ocean after centuries of piracy, often enjoyed Jeongin’s  whispered stories of Thallasia and Atlantis.

“Hello, charlatan.” he mockingly raised his glass of orange juice at you. You gasped in mock offence, reaching over to smack his arm. “How dare you! I am a respectable young lady, a successful tradeswoman at that!”

“Say what you will,” Jeongin chortled, sipping his drink. “But the only reason you sell anything if because of magic. Doesn’t that make you a fake?”

“I tell all of them it’s magic, it’s their fault they don’t believe me!” You laughed aloud before flagging down one of the waiters, placing your usual order and a mug of hot coffee. “Jeongin watched as you settled yourself further onto the bench, pulling off your heavy midnight cloak and fixing your sleeves and dress around your now cross-legged feet.

His first meeting with you had been an odd one. Jeongin’s mother had run out of ginger and herbs and threw him out of the house to do a grocery run for her, late in the evening. Quickly making his purchases, he decided to take the scenic route back home, away from the beach road and through a copse of trees. What he did not realize was that somebody else had taken that exact route that evening and had panicked at the sound of him following them.

Imagine Jeongin’s surprise when he was waylaid by an angry-looking girl with green sparks lighting up the tips of her fingers, telling him to back off from her trade items before she sliced his toes off. It was one of his life’s greatest embarrassments that he’d screamed in a rather high-pitched manner when you’d appeared out of thin air, your eyes shining unnaturally bright against the darkness of the copse.

After copious amounts of explaining from Jeongin, you relented, letting him pass with a begrudging apology- but Jeongin insisted on walking you all the way to your doorstep in a gesture of goodwill.

You were a spellcaster from the skinwalker plane Kyrmena- particularly from Gumiho territory, where your accent came from. Your parents had let you travel the country when you became of age, letting you learn more of the world by yourself. Busan had captured your heart for its serene beachside and the approachable people, which was why you set up a little home for yourself in Salen’s Inn, trusting Hongjoong and Yeosang’s hideout for the land living supernatural races.

That had been more than 6 months ago, the two of you becoming fast friends over Jeongin’s weekend visits. It was now tradition for him to take up this particular table at Salen’s before you bustled in from your market run, your hair tousled from the sea breeze. You were always the last person he met before heading back to Thallasia, bidding him adieu at the beach when he left.

“Yeosang has been begging me to make him a pearl and lily circlet for him lately,” you were saying, your accent curling curiously as your hands fluttered around you. “But who’s going to tell him the only pearls I have are the fake ones? I’m not going to give a dear friend a fake pearl circlet!”

Jeongin leaned on the table, his fingers lacing together as he stared at you incredulously. “Are you dense or just well and truly blind?” He asked, his voice betraying the extent of his exasperated amusement. You stopped and stared at him, your eyes narrowed. “What do you mean?”

“You’re talking to a seawalker, “ Jeongin pointed exaggeratedly to himself, “about lacking pearls.” Your eyes widened, palm smacking against your forehead in a rather comical manner. “Wow, I’m truly a few bolts short of normal today.” you grumbled before fixing Jeongin with a beseeching stare.

“Get me some pearls, please? My usual contact for them ran out and I’m sure I’m going to get orders from the seamstress for more pearl and rose-petal necklaces.”

The people of Busan had been collectively fascinated by the pretty young lady who set up shop in their market one day, your trade consisting of the most beautiful flowers laid over pieces of precious stones and jewellery. They flocked to your shop in awe, your wares sometimes running out before the day passed- how did your flowers not wilt for weeks? How did your jewellery never lose their shine? Little did they know you set a time-slowing spell on your pieces, slowing down the flowers’ wilt and the jewellery’s dulling to a great degree.

Jeongin sighed loudly, rolling his eyes despite the smile on his face. “Whatever. Meet me by the beach at dawn in 4 days.” Your eyes brightened immediately, a smile stretching out your lips as you slid off your bench to give Jeongin a tight hug, squealing excitedly.

“You’re the best.” you giggled, as Jeongin grimaced at the bodily contact, taking your original place on the bench. “I’m sure you spent your days dealing with me just so you could ask me to get you pearls for free one day.” Jeongin sighed dramatically as he sipped on his orange juice.

“Wait, you knew ?!” You gasped, your hand raising to cover your mouth in mock shock. “I thought I was doing a good job at pretending to be your friend!”

“You clearly weren’t.” Jeongin responded with a straight face, your eyes meeting and stares holding for a split second before you burst into pointless giggles.

“Don’t worry, I’ll get you those snacks you like from Daegu the next time you visit.” You grinned at him just as Yeosang dropped by with your order of food, your attention now speared on the dark-haired Fae boy. Jeongin watched in amusement as you explained Jeongin’s agreement to get you pearls for his long-awaited pearl-and-lily circlet, Yeosang’s green eyes lighting up in pure excitement at the prospect. You giggled as Yeosang patted the top of your heads in thanks before wandering back to Hongjoong, prompting you to focus on your food.

Jeongin held your friendship with him at the highest of regards, despite not knowing you for very long. You were fierce yet easy to amuse, soft with your sentiments and so very talented with your hands. Watching you piece together the strangest combinations of metal and flowers into the most beautiful pieces of jewellery would never stop fascinating him- your artistry effortless and so, so charming.

It was almost easy for time to slip by faster with you, your easy banter with him making time pass faster than he’d expect it to.

For once, however, he didn’t really mind it.

Taglist: @aliceu @decembermoonskz @kisskissbanggang @lavenderbexlatte @jl-micasea @cuokka @cotccotc @straykidsownmysoul @illicit-roses @fylithia @stellarmonsterr @soya-zz @popisdead (Dm or drop me an ask to be added or removed!) 

Network tag: @inkidz @kpopscape @districtninewriters​

I’d love to hear what you think of this story! - Elliana.

[vaguely-concerned]

The Mandalorian Chapter 11 reactions; the ‘the sea is a harsh mistress’ edition

- on first watch this wasn’t really one of my favorite episodes. I think it’s something to do with... one of the many things I love about the mandalorian is how it made the star wars universe feel HUGE. big and surprising and unknowable, there could be fucking anything out there man we don’t know. so having first bo katan show up and then ahsoka being set up right after (quite aside from who’s rumoured to play her, which is an entirely different can of wormy beans) in additon to opening the season on tatooine... eh. I’m not that into it, it feels like shrinking the world. we haven’t even gotten to see any other type of force user yet. it is only early/mid season tho so they’re probably going to pull some unexpected twists on us 

my opinion might change with rewatches too, that happens quite a bit with this show!

- 

🎶I’VE COME TO TALK WITH YOU AGAIN🎶

honestly I had kind of a hard day yesterday and watched this the next morning and kept pointing tiredly to the crest like ‘it me tho’ 

- I was unreasonably happy about seeing the calamari flan again hahaha he’s been keeping that shit in his pockets for a season and a half now (didn’t he pay with some at one other point too?)! also the sound effects for them are SO EXCELLENT, I keep thinking about how well this show does texture which is wild considering how it’s filmed 

- the warm pat din gave frog lady’s arm when he thanked her and said goodbye 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭 I love the small ways he’s thawing 

-

my heart ached so much for him at this point, he just looks so small and tense and lost, like a kid who’s lost his parents in a supermarket

(he keeps his hand on the blaster the whole time too so he knows this is a bad scene but now they’re right out in the middle of the ocean already soooo) 

- din’s very very very dry sense of humour is so blessed. ‘a bowl of chowder for my friend’ faklhfsadkjlfhsadkjhfsd

the baby’s look when he poked the squid thing with his knife too -- yodito’s like ‘dad is a wizard??’ haha. some good baby & dad stuff in this one 

- oh din... side quest boy, side quest booooooyyy

- the shot when bo katan helped him out of the water is perfectly mirroring the scene of bb!din being pulled up to safety by the mandalorian in the flashback, which seems Very Intentional

I Extremely Do Not Trust Her in the larger scale tho. I think it’s important that din knows now that he was raised in a very specific offshoot of the mandalorians ant that there’s some Stuff he hasn’t been told, but I also think it’s crucial to remember that her pov is not unbiased either and she, in fact, already has an established tendency to selectively share information with him to manipulate him into fulfilling her goals. (which he realizes because he keeps saying ‘that is not my mission, my mission is the child’ and I could not love him more). hell, I’m not sure exactly how ‘the children of the watch’ were positioned within death watch, but she was fucking death watch too for the longest time! and she hardly left for particularly noble reasons, she just didn’t like maul! she already lost mandalore like twice, do we just have to trust that third time’s the charm or what! 

she lied to him about the scope of the mission to force him into a position to do what she wanted (fully knowing he’s responsible for a child!!) and she called that ‘the way’ just as easily as the thing about not letting his bravery be forgotten! big red warning lights, NO! I think the thing is that din is having to find his own ‘way’ of being mandalorian (/how does one be a person exactly help?? relatable content, and he’ll get there in the end I’m sure he’s so good), but her way is no less fucked up to me than the children of the watch from what we’ve seen so far. she’s good at killing imperials though which is of course a mark in her favour

(considering that the episode gives her the epithet ‘the heiress’... yeah that’s probably a hint that she’s loyal first and foremost to her entitlement, getting the position she considers hers by right of inheritance. guess we’ll see if the text agrees with her)  

- ‘mandalorians are stronger together’ yeah that’s probably why the cosmic balance makes sure they’re mostly engaged in being at each other’s throats lol 

- so I might be feeling kind of sketch about these guys but on the other hand... when that one lady saved the baby and then promptly took off her helmet to reveal she looks like t h i s ?

you better BELIEVE I was ready to fall down on one knee and propose right then and there holy shit

- ...wow if he didn’t have the jet pack din probably would have just sunk like a rock and drowned there huh 😨 that armour’s pretty heavy, turns out

- in happier news: din has become so good at reading what the child is expressing and responding/labeling the feeling for him! that’s so important to his development! ‘I know you’re hungry’ and both telling and showing him there’s a solution! still a bit of an issue that he thinks he can inform the baby of things like it’s a reasoned adult and have it understand, but we’re getting there we’re getting there lol

- that poor lady guiding them in for landing and sounding more and more worried fhkasjdlhfkjsdlahf (and he fucking TURNS OFF THE RADIO or whatever he’s using to talk to her through sdkfhaksdfhjs he takes a precious split second just to cut her off asfdjhaslkdfsdfhsda I love my salty dad) 

- when the fisherman asshole tells mando he knows where to find more of his people there’s the tinkling bell sound in the background music, I think it’s meant to convey almost childlike longing for belonging and connection, for finding someone who’ll know what to do? 

- when they took off their helmets and baby looked up at din like ‘???dad what the fuck? can you do that???’. (or like he just sensed his father taking a shitload of psychic damage all in one go)

- the way din didn’t start breathing again until they got the baby up from the water and he had him in his arms... the way he held him... sladfhasdklfhsjakdhfjsakldhfsakjldhfsjkadhfjaskdhfskajdhfjsdakhfslakhfskladhfsakljdhfjskadlhfkjsld

that whole scene was like a nightmare, so desperately unpleasant, in a way it mirrors the way the mandalorians have been hunted down and pummeled these last few generations, this must sort of be what it feels like to him subconsciously 

- din isn’t particularly inflexible as a person, after the initial kneejerk rejection he did listen to what they said and is carefully considering it (he did say ‘this is the way’ back at the end!)   

- the baby’s babbling when he wakes up and looks around in the beginning sounds half like ‘baba?’ and I almost had a heart attack

- loved how greasy and awful and dumb all the empire dudes were (and the comedy on board the ship too it was good for me) 

- the boob plates huh. shit they’ve shown with the armorer that they don’t have to do that in any way shape or form and they still brought the boob plates back :/ I guess it’s so they match up with the rebels/clone wars look, evoking that ~*era*~ and everything, but I don’t have to like it lol  

- I feel so validated in my theory that the razor crest is symbolic of din’s sense of self  (now with beautifully added commentary!) after this haha (and also so so scared now they might be ditching it for a new ship eventually). it’s in pieces, his world view is going to pieces and can’t be patched together the way it was before, from what he knows he’s about to deliver the baby to someone else who’ll understand/love/deserve him better (I do think that feeling is still in him) and he doesn’t even have the certainty of the code anymore to fill the void. oh buddy. 

the discomfort I felt when we got back into the cockpit -- into where it’s supposed to be familiar and safe! -- and saw all the ocean junk lying around, making it feel weird and changed and dirty (it probably smells like rotten seaweed in there now :( no likey)... I mean it was also very funny to see the pilot’s chair held together with a literal fishing net, but please favreau leave my dad’s car/ego alooooone 

- baby laughing his little bum off at din catching the small sea monster before it got him and then munching it......... the ‘there’s nothing in this world my dad can’t fix’ safe energy.......... I’m so scared we’re coming up on something din can’t fix 

- knitwear in star wars: I didn’t know I wanted it, but I am ELATED with having been given it

- moff gideon’s amazing evil voice... back in our ears, in our hearts, I gleefully hate him 

- at least din’s armour is clean again after that (awful) swim? one must appreciate some silver linings along the way I suppose

- din goes straight for the main pilot’s seat once they get the imperial out of it, so he must feel really secure that he’s probably the best man for the job; he is genuinely a good pilot! (and after this I am wondering even MORE who taught him. who raised you within the mandos din??)

- even while everything is new and scary and falling apart we can live safe in the knowledge that at least frog lady and frog husband had a good day and will have a good and happy frog life together with their frog children

couple goals tbh 

(I don’t necessarily know how it works for frog people but I uh. guess they got busy quickly huh hahaha good thing mando didn’t turn up again until later)