#gray whale!reader

[naffeclipse]

Hey I was wondering, I dunno if it was already ask or not but… have you heard of 52 blue ? The loneliest whale on earth because it communicate at a frequency of 52hertz (it found a partner after 40 years), meaning they can’t communicate with other.

I was wondering what would’ve happened if our lonely orca!Eclipse found out a "52 blue" reader who’s lonely because of their condition ? With how he seems to like to hear his littles birdies singing and all…

A barrier such as not being able to communicate would not keep Orca!Eclipse from courting a siren reader. It would confuse him at first to realize he can't quite hear you, despite your desperation in attempting to communicate in the hope he won't attack/eat you, but he takes it in stride. He immediately begins finding ways to help you communicate by making symbols and gestures with his hands to convey his meaning, and you begin to catch on: Fish. Ice. Air. Breaching. Gift. A courting gift. A gift for you. You start to find ways to express longer, complex thoughts, and he listens. You... don't remember the last time someone listened. You're alone. Eclipse says he is too, but not anymore. And neither are you.

The last time you sang... You can't recall. No one could understand you, and there is nothing lonelier than singing alone. Sirens are meant to share choruses and harmonies and when Eclipse asks you to sing, you tell him no. He's disappointed and coaxes you, promising it will be alright. He wants to sing with you too, but he won't understand your melody and it will turn sour and fall flat and—

Eclipse takes your face in his hands and cradles you close. He promises. It will be okay. Please. Sing for him.

You swallow heavily. He holds your gaze with his burning eyes, and you dare to try.

A croak slips from you. You try to turn away but Eclipse holds tight to you, urging you to do it again. Don't get up. You almost shake your head but there's a hum in your chest. It wants to be free, and you clear your throat and try again.

A song no other siren can understand emerges from your lips, but Eclipse listens. He closes his eyes lays, his head against yours, and sways softly as you sing louder and stronger, lifting it to the starry sky before he joins you.

You almost falter—his song is so beautiful and it doesn't go well with yours, but Eclipse doesn't stop and neither do you. His voice dips low and settles into a gentle layer of sound underneath your own, and though it is strange and unlike anything you have ever heard... it sounds lovely. Your song. Yours and his.

[cosmic-ghost-hermit]

Pick a Card: Message from Aphrodite

I dedicate this reading to Lady Aphrodite. I deliver this message from her to the collective. Take what resonates and leave the rest behind, baby. But always be open to new experiences. Decks used are the star spinner tarot, the romantic Lenormand and occult tarot.

🌸Tip your Reader💖

_________

PILE ONE 🤍

Astrology: Leo, Libra, Virgo (maybe Scorpio)

Song: EVIL by Melanie Martinez

Vibes: Pink, dark purple, aquamarine, peacocks, lions, pheonix, whales, pixies, ship in a bottle, sunflowers, clear night sky, 1010, 2020, 2029

Cards: The Hermit, 10 of Swords, Queen of Wands, Queen of Cups, The Lovers (Gay), Sallos (2 of Cups), Woman, Garden

Hello, pile one. Lady Aphrodite is telling me that you aren't very kind to yourself. She wants this to change. I think you do too. Maybe you aren't sure what being nice to yourself really feels like. No one ever taught you. They taught you how to serve others. They taught you how to neglect your own needs. This isn't helping or working for you anymore. It is honestly just making life harder than it needs to be. I see this self-hatred could be leading you to depression. You try so hard to focus on other peoples problems so you don't have to focus on yourself. Lady Aphrodite says she wants to help you tend to your garden. She wants to nourish your soul. She wants you to learn about yourself and bring light to the darkest parts of your soul.

I am going to attempt to directly channel her.

"My dearest, you aren't undeserving of love. You bring the utmost sincerity to understanding every person and everything around you. I do so wish you would bring the loving energy you do to those topics to yourself. I want to fill your life with abundance. I wish to see you bloom, my flower. I wish to watch you flourish and grow past what you ever imagined was possible. Hear me, little flower. You are deserving of cherishing. It doesn't matter what the crowds say. It is truth. You are deserving of being known to your core. You don't have to fawn anymore to protect yourself. I will protect you from now on, my darling. Those previous lovers did you no good. Self-love is where you must begin. Start at your lust. It will lead you to where the hurt is. So, you may begin to heal."

Lady Aphrodite has seen your pain and wants to take away the pain you have been feeling. The pain you have been causing yourself isn't deserved. She knows you have been self sacrificing and is asking you to stop. Stop hurting the one person who has been looking after you this whole time. Yourself. Give yourself some slack and see yourself as the person you truly are. Don't filter your perspective of yourself through the lenses of others. All they know how to look at is reflections. You are not their reflection. The things they say are just their own self-hatred reflected off of you. You aren't what others see. You are more than that. Allow yourself to open your mind to experience yourself anew. Lay down your sword. You don't need to fight yourself any longer.

________

PILE TWO 💎

Astrology: Taurus, Capricorn, Pisces

Song: Nobody Else by Em Beihold

Vibes: Deep purple, deep blues, burgundy, yellow, gray, wheat, keys, time, clocks, gold fish, coy fish, bears, bulls, stars, alstroemerias, wishing well, thistles, 345, 78, 11

Cards: 8 of Pentacles, Hierophant, Empress, 4 of Wands, 7 of Cups, Whip, Fish, Balam (page of wands)

Pile two, welcome to you reading. Lady Aphrodite wants me to tell you a couple different things. First, why do you need to earn what you have deserved all along? I see how hard you work. She see's it too. You have this hyper independence and this unbridled need to prove yourself. These beliefs of yours are holding you back, love. Why do you think you need to be punished in order to receive? My dear these beliefs are from generational trauma that was passed to you. You don't have to work to deserve. You are inherently deserving of all that you need. You are lovable. You should be seen and recognized for all your hard work. Lady Aphrodite asks you to stop inheriting pain and start inheriting pleasure. Just for the sake of being happy. Just for the sake of your mental stability.

I will channel Lady Aphrodite directly so you can hear her clearly.

"My little dove, you can relax now. There is no one looking over your shoulder anymore. What are you trying to prove? You don't need to prove yourself to anyone, baby. You are just perfect. You will still be abundant if you take a second to breath. I'm so sorry your loved ones and career have made you feel like you aren't enough. You are more than enough. My love, I don't want you to think that you need to work so hard to get what you need or anything you want. You can take a minute to breath. I will take care of your desires, my dearest. I know you are getting all choked up about the needs and wants. Cry if you need to. Let all that built up pressure out. You don't always have to hold your composure like they all claimed you needed to. Relax your shoulders and unclench your jaw, my love. I wish you didn't feel the need to prove yourself. You have already proven yourself over and over. A thousand times you proved you could do anything. You don't have to anymore. Let go of spite. It doesn't matter if someone thinks you can't. Their opinion of you don't reflect the truth. It only spreads light onto their insecurities. You are perfect. You are perfect even when you aren't trying so please my dearest. Stop trying so hard. Just be."

Lady Aphrodite wants to take anything that is bothering you away so you may have the time to rest and recuperate from all that work you have been doing. You have done enough. You are enough. She can see it. She wants you too see it too.

___________

PILE THREE 🐰

Astrology: Cancer, Scorpio, Aquarius

Song: PUPPET SHOW by XG

Vibes: Sky blue, cyan, navy blue, indigo, green, purple, rocking horse, carrousel, apples, ibis bird, lilys, yellow roses, angels, mermaids, sparrows, unshed tears, circus, 45, 4444, 13

Cards: Queen of Pentacles, Knight of Cups, Star, 4 of Cups, 5 of Swords, House, Child, Berith (King of Pentacles)

Welcome, pile three to your reading. Lady Aphrodite has a very strong and stern message she wants me to tell you. You really might not like to hear this so continue if you desire but just know I warned you. You are 'playing house' with someone who doesn't want to play the role that they agreed to. You think if you coddle this person they will warm up and get back into playing with you but they won't. No amount of babying will make them play with you, my friend. This could be a romantic partner but more likely I see they are a FWB that you want something more with. This person is extremely childish and doesn't want to commit to you but wants all the benefits of being with you. I'm hearing you set up this persons doctors appointments and making their lunch. You are acting like a mother to this person. It is leaving you really disappointed and unsatisfied. You want something real with this person. You aren't scared to commit but the person only wants to take from you. They don't want to give. Lady Aphrodite thinks you deserve more than that. You deserve your desires to be fulfilled. This person can't do that for you.

Now I am going to try and channel Lady Aphrodite. She wants a couple words with you.

"I do not enjoy how that person treats you. Excuse my language but they are a bitch for not making a commitment to you. You deserve dates, flowers and A RING. You deserve the world and this person isn't giving that to you. All you are receiving is a second rate sexual experience and motherhood you never signed up for, my dear! I don't think kicking this person to the curb is going to work right away but you need to change how you think about this person. I would much rather you just leave them but I sense it wouldn't be safe quite yet. Don't worry, my dearest. I will set everything up just for you. Please, in the mean time while I set up your new love-life, start treating this person like a friend. They don't act like a lover so do not treat them like a lover. They will hardly notice, my love. There is nothing to fear. I will remove this person quickly from your life very soon so I can give you a new and better person. This new person will be perfect for you, just you wait and see. They are going to treat you exactly how you have always dreamed. I guarantee you some princess treatment and romance. I guarantee you a ring and a lovely life with this new person. You might have to leave some old behaviors and habits behind with the current person but I promise you good things will replace the things you will leave. Good luck, my love. You have me on your side."

You won't have to wish for your current situation-ship to step up for you because someone else will. You don't need to yearn much longer. You are a queen and you must be treated like one.

________

PILE FOUR 🌸

Astrology: Aries, Gemini, Sagittarius

Song: Please Please Please by Sabrina Carpenter

Vibes: Pastel pink, cobalt, cornflower blue, blonde, hawk, starling, rodents, garlic, cheese, peaches, walnuts, pecans, pineapple, dyed hair, orange peal, fish bones, illusion, 1212, 333, 5858, 55

Cards: Knight of Wands, Knight of Swords, 5 of Wands, 3 of Swords, 8 of Cups, Clouds, Mice, Gamigin (5 of Pentacles)

Pile four, I hope you are ready because this one is a doozy. Lady Aphrodite wants me to tell you that you need to run far away from whoever has been breaking your heart. She is telling me there is someone you are getting close with and have known for a while. It could be a romantic interest but not necessarily. They are probably an air sign. This person she is telling me about is changing into someone nasty behind closed doors. You have been seeing it too. You have been ignoring the red flags because you have known this person for a very long time but you haven't ever known them really. It has been little red flags or orange/yellow flags so you dismissed your own worries and haven't really entertained the thought that this person is turning into a pest. Those yellow flags are going to pile up, my friend. You will loose so much. Lady Aphrodite is really serious about this and wants me to say that if you don't break your own heart now. This person will do it for you and they won't be as kind as you are. They are growing close with someone who is a terrible influence on them. If you try to confront them about your concerns they will brush you off. Do not let them convince you. You aren't imagining anything. You are seeing the signs.

I will now channel a direct message from Lady Aphrodite.

"My dearest. Get away from them and their 'new friend'. While you still can. This person is a manipulative vexation and they are turning your friend into someone gross. This is the only way I can protect you from them, my love. You need to run. Hurry away. They are luring you into false security. Don't let this little rat of a person eat up your money, your time, your self esteem or anything else that is rightfully yours. Do not give away your power to these vermin. I know you might feel guilty, my dearest. Do not. I swear on the name of love that this person is not worth the guiltiness you feel. If you don't trust what I am saying. I suggest you find your person's new friend's previous partners and inquire about them secretly. Then you will have your proof. They have a pattern, my dear. They say the same pickup lines and take every person to the same date. They are not healthy for you or your friend but your person is in to deep now. I cannot protect you unless you help me protect you. I cannot save you if you refuse to save yourself. Please do not turn a blind eye."

I know it might be lonely at first, my friend but there will be new people coming in to take the spots that will be left empty. You will be provided for. You won't have to be alone forever. I understand that this air sign person you don't want to leave behind has helped you feel less abandoned in recent years. Lady Aphrodite won't let you be lonely for long. Your friend just has some lessons to learn that you don't need to be involved in. Please stay safe, my love.

[cillianmesoftlyyy]

Wary Sailor Pt. 3 | Matthew Joy x fem!reader

summary: A storm is coming to threaten the Essex and her crew, and not even second-mate Matthew Joy is ready for the toil that it will cause. When he's thrown overboard, his sweet Siren saves him, but she begins to understand the danger of their relationship.

warnings: Thalassophobia, drowning, and bodily harm.

word count: 2210k

I'll Believe in Anything- Wolf Parade 🎶

Asleep- The Smiths 🎵

shout out to @everandforeveryours for helping me with ideas! More to come 🖤

That night the sea was rough and the captain called for all hands on deck. Matthew did not sleep that night or much of the day. His thoughts of the girl were incessant and his body still held the memory of her, making it even more difficult to focus on the important tasks of the day. Through the turbulent waves, the Essex sailed with the help of her crew. Their calls and shouts could barely be heard over the roar of the sea around them. Matthew wondered if Y/N was watching from the sea, the waves a place of safety even in the worst storm. 

As rain pounded the deck, Matthew stood at the railing and looked out at the storm, his hands gripping the edge. They’d lowered the sails and were preparing the ship for storms. 

“Joy,” Owen’s voice pulled Matthew from his thoughts and he looked over his shoulder at the Essex’s first-mate. Owen stood beside him at the railing and looked out at the sea. 

“You alright, mate?” He asked quietly, not meeting Matthew’s eyes. Matthew furrowed his eyebrows and looked at his friend’s face. “You’ve been… off since the morning we spotted the pod of whales, and you were down in the boat alone for a long time last night. You and I both know how we can get after years at sea…” Owen cleared his throat and waited for Matthew to speak. 

“Do you believe in Sirens?” Matthew asked him instead and Owen scoffed, taken back by the random question. 

“What?” Owen shook his head, “no, I don’t believe they’re real. Why? Do you think you saw one?” Owen shrugged light-heartedly and scratched his mustache.

When Matthew didn’t respond, Owen lowered his hand and sighed slowly. 

“Be careful, Joy. Don’t let the sea play with your mind, at least for our sake,” Owen patted Matthew on the back and stepped away. “I’m going to help secure the sails for the night. Captain wants us to continue straight, he thinks we’ll clear the storm before it gets bad but I don’t know, Joy. No whale is worth testing the sea and her temper.” 

“Oh, Joy,” Owen turned back, remembering something, “do you remember what they say about seeing a Siren? Seeing one likely means the ship will sink,” Owen set his brow, his voice dark like a warning. 

Matthew glanced back at his friend and nodded, “I’ll make sure my men are ready if anything happens tonight.” 

“Good.” 

Owen walked off to help the younger sailors fasten the sails in place and chain the barrels of fresh water below deck. Matthew pinched the bridge of his nose and silently cursed the Captain. Joy had been on the water long enough to know that the storm clouds in the distance were not a good sign for a ship. The sea was already riled up, so heading beneath the dark gray and greenish sky seemed the worst decision to make. 

Could she see him now? He wondered. 

…

Matthew managed to get a few hours of sleep before the ship entered the storm. Matthew was not alone in his frustration. Every sailor groveled over the Captain’s poor direction, knowing this trip would cause more harm than good. Matthew climbed to the top deck and began scaling the rigging system of ropes. A mast had been knocked from its place by the wind. Matthew directed the men, calling for help in fixing the massive piece of wood. The Captain watched from below, his nice uniform ruined from salt water and the rain. 

“Joy! Come down from there and help secure the mast’s rigging!” The Captain yelled up at him and Matthew cursed below his breath. The wind whistled in his ears as he climbed down the rope system, slick and slimy. Landing hard on the deck of the ship, Matthew helped a few other men lift the bundle of cord used to hold the mast in place in case of emergency. The ship plunged between massive waves and one of the ship’s Booms swung around, knocking Matthew over the railing. There was no time to hold onto anything or try to save himself as he was forced over the edge and fell down, down into the sea. 

…

His body sunk below the surface of the angry sea. Waves engulfed him, forcing him down whenever he almost swam to the top. The sea was dark green and blue, so much so that he couldn’t see anything around him. His coat and boats weighed him down but he couldn’t take them off in his determination to swim to the surface. The air had been knocked out of him when he landed, his back was surely already bruising. Without any breath in his lungs, Matthew’s lungs began to spam, trying desperately to pull in air. Soon, he could feel himself sinking further, no longer making progress to the surface. He could feel his muscles loosening as he began to lose consciousness. Matthew was a good swimmer, and yet, he was no match to the severity of the sea during a storm. 

Y/N, he thought as swallowed some of the water around him in his instinct to breathe. His arms were stretched out in the water, reaching for the Essex and safety. 

You shouldn’t be here.

Matthew tried to open his eyes when he heard the familiar voice in his head. Between his eyelashes, he saw a ray of soft light. As his eyes opened more, he realized the ray of light was the Siren, the woman he’d begun to love. 

You can’t be here, Matthew. I need to get you back to the surface. 

He didn’t remember closing his eyes but could feel Y/N’s arms wrap around his shoulders, dragging him with her. The action was swift. Her tail was pure muscle that propelled them as fast as she wanted it to. In what felt like seconds, Matthew’s head cleared the surface of the water. 

Breath, Matthew. 

Matthew heard her in his head and tried to breath but he already felt dead. 

“I think that’s him, sir!” A sailor yelled from the deck. Men gathered at the railing to assist, piecing together a rope ladder for their lost second-mate. It was raining so hard that the men on the deck could barely see Matthew nor the woman-like creature beside him.  

The sound of his crewmates awakened something else inside Matthew: duty. 

They need you Matthew. I’ll never forgive you if you don’t breathe right now.

Matthew’s eyes snapped open and he began to cough, clearing the water from his lungs. His arms began to instinctively tread the water to keep himself afloat. She appeared beside him at the surface, keeping her head low. It took a few moments for Matthew to clear his head and catch his breath. 

“Y/N,” he croaked and gave her a crooked smile, pain in his eyes, “thank you.” 

“You’re welcome, sailor.” She released a sigh of relief and glanced up at the rope ladder the men were trying to detangle. “Your men are lowering a rope. You’re going to be fine.” 

Matthew looked between the rope and the woman who had just saved his life.

“Come with me.” Matthew’s blue eyes flashed as he spoke, “I’ll look after you. We can be together after they know what you did to save my life.” 

She shook her head and bit her lip. “I can’t, Matthew. That’s your world, not mine. And besides,” she glanced up at the rope ladder starting to fall, “I can’t survive up there… for short periods of time, sure, but not forever.”   

“I don’t think I can be away from you,” Matthew admitted and coughed again. 

“You must.” 

The ship tossed and turned in the rough water. The men threw down the rope and it landed in the water yards away. He’d have to swim to it, fighting the massive waves. 

“This is getting dangerous. I should have never come aboard your boat. This is all my fault…” the Siren closed her eyes. 

“What do you mean, love?” Matthew tried to reach for her face in the water. 

“It’s bad luck for a woman to board a sailor’s boat. I knew it was unlucky and I still did it because I needed to meet you. I’m so sorry, Matthew.” 

“Don’t say things like that,” Matthew furrowed his brow, ignoring the calls of his crewmates, “you saved my life.” 

“We’re tempting fate.” 

“Fuck that! I love you. I’m- damn it- I’m in love with you, Y/N. Come with me, please.” 

The Siren smiled painfully and closed the distance between them. She kissed Matthew deeply, their lips sliding into place against each other as they were meant to do. Her nose was crushed against his as he kissed her back. He sucked desperately at her bottom lip, pulling her mouth closer to his. His hands held her face painfully tight, boring into the flesh on her cheeks, somehow still staying afloat as he did so. Finally, she pulled away but kept her face close so that she could speak quietly to him. 

“I don’t trust your Captain Pollard, sailor, and neither should you. Be wary.” With a sad expression on her beautiful face, she slipped below the waves. Her silver tail flipped up into the air, sending a wave that carried Matthew the few feet closer he needed to swim to the base of the ladder. 

“Y/N!!” Matthew screamed into the wind, spitting salt water from his mouth. 

“Joy! Climb the god-damned rope right now!” Owen ordered from the deck. After a moment Matthew forced himself to swim to the rope ladder. He released an angry yell and slammed his fist against the side of the boat, his hair sticking to the side of his face as he looked back at the sea. 

“Joy!” Owen’s voice was louder now that he was closer. Having no other choice, Matthew found one of the rungs and dejectedly began to climb. 

…

He choked on the water still in his lungs when he fell back onto the deck. Hands grabbed at his clothes and dragged him away from the railing. Owen crouched beside him and slapped his face with both hands, stimulating blood flow. 

“You alright, second-mate?” Owen tried to joke. Matthew coughed up more water before wiping his mouth and nodding. 

“I’m alive.”

“Barely. Take him below!” Owen ordered a smaller boy to help Matthew to his feet and escorted him below deck. There was a small sick-bay between the sailors’ berth and the Captain’s quarters. No doctor worked there, but it could be used for quarantine when necessary. At that moment, Matthew was placed there more for comfort than anything. After he was helped onto the shallow bunk and the boy left him alone, Matthew began to remove his wet clothes. Dropping them on the ground, he looked for injuries, Y/N’s words still echoing in his head. 

Yes was leaving him, probably forever. And they had parted with one last warning: don’t trust Captain Pollard. Matthew didn’t trust him very much to begin with and now he disliked him even more. The man had no tangible experience with commercial sailing, especially not whaling boats. Owen should have been Captain and Matthew should have been first-mate. Things would have gotten done, they would have never entered a storm like this. 

He was changing into dry bloomers when someone knocked. For a moment, Matthew watched the door, expecting to see the girl on the other side but when the visitor entered, it was not her. 

“Everything is secured. There are men still keeping watch but I’ve ordered everyone else below deck until we clear this storm.” Owen stepped inside and closed the door behind him. “Pollard?” Matthew cleared his throat and slowly sat back down on the bed. 

“He’s… doing some calculations, navigation.” Owen waved his hands about and sighed. After a moment of silence, his eyes returned to watch Matthew and he drew in a strained breath. 

“Joy,” Owen started ominously and Matthew looked up, his icy blue eyes drowned out by the darkness, “I saw… well how do I say this… I saw who saved you, Joy.” 

Matthew looked to the side and nodded absently. 

“So you were right then, they’re real. She… saved you?” Owen grimaced as he tried to confirm what he saw. 

“Yes, she did,” Matthew laughed tiredly, his smile falling short. 

“Why?” Owen asked hesitantly. 

Matthew turned his head back slowly to look at his best-friend. His pale skin looked yellow in the light of the whale oil lamp. His hair was still damp but it had begun to dry where it had fallen in waves around his head. 

“She loved me,” Matthew answered with what he believed whole-heartedly to be the truth and wrapped a blanket around his shoulder, hissing as his back muscles clenched in pain. Owen looked Matthew up and down and nodded, understanding that he was supposed to leave.

Once alone again, Matthew sat with his knees drawn up to his chest and looked up at the ceiling. Rainwater managed to sneak through the cracks between floorboards above his head. He watched it drip around him and sat in silence. 

…

End of Pt. 3!

[innerfare]

Law Leaving - Part 1.5

Summary: Law is stewing on leaving you behind; it's only Part 1.5 instead of Part 2 because it's just a shorter drabble from Law's POV. Reader is a Heart Pirate and marine biologist. Features mutual pining and unrequited love. This thing I wrote here could be considered a prequel if you want to read it, and you can read Part 1 here!

Pairing: Trafalgar Law x Gn!Reader

Genre: Angst, Eventual Fluff

CW: SFW // None

Word Count: 575

———

Law would rather die than say it out loud, but the Straw Hats were pretty good company. He had to hide his smile multiple times as they chattered over their snacks and drinks, sprawled across the deck of their quirky ship without a care in the world. The journey from Punk Hazard to Dressrosa, he hoped, would be a boring one. 

Law himself took the break in commotion to sit down, his back against the railing, and let his mind wander a bit. Naturally, his thoughts went straight to you. 

He wondered if you had gotten your hands on any new algae samples, if you had finished that book he bought you on Island Whales, if you were still obsessed with that one song or if you had a new one, if you had made any progress on getting down to just one cup of coffee per day, if  on colder nights you were making good use of the sealskin blanket he’d given you, what shade of blue was on your nails. 

More importantly, he wondered if you had thought of him at all, if you wanted to update him on your coffee habits, if you wanted to share any new songs you found with him, if the spot beside you remained empty at meal times, if you missed his opinions on your marine research, if his yellow and black hoodie was still your favorite or if you’d found another. 

The fear of you finding another reached into his chest, a frozen hand clutching his heart. He rubbed his hand up and down the spot in hopes of soothing himself but to no avail. His greatest fear was the Donquixote family finding and torturing you, but there was another fear creeping up on that one, threatening to relegate it to second place: the fear that you would grow weary of waiting. 

And how selfish was that, for a small part of him to care more about your loyalty than your safety? He knew you could spit in his face and he would still lay down his life for you, but he didn’t want you to spit in his face. He wanted you to hold his cheeks in your cold hands like you’d done that one late night in the lab and press a warm kiss to his lips, slow and chaste, little more than a promise to reciprocate should he decide escalate. He hadn’t escalated, though, hadn’t been able to, not with his past weighing on him. 

He didn’t expect to see you again, though he hadn’t exactly told you that. He hadn’t been man enough to confront you with what he felt was the truth. He’d been caught between the fear you would try to accompany him if you knew how dire it was and the fear you wouldn’t, that you didn’t care enough.  

The Straw Hats erupted into laughter, and Law lowered his head, a subconscious fear of them laughing at him lurking in the back of his head. Who was he to assume you were even his to set free? It was rather laughable. But in that moment, he decided he didn’t care how comical the thought of you loving someone like him was. If- no, when, he made it out of Dressrosa, he’d make sure there were no gray areas in your relationship. Either you loved him, or you didn’t, but you were going to know how he felt about you. 

———

Hope you enjoyed it! Part 2 will be up tomorrow! If you want more, you can check out my masterlist here!

[binah-beloved]

Decay Amidst the Seafoam

Queequeg x Reader Mermaid AU Pronouns: Gender Neutral Warnings: Description of injuries

~ * ~

There’s froth on the waves today. That’s good. It means you can see the water’s color, a deep blue rather than fog and gray flecks. It’s temperamental, the ocean. Always, even on the brightest of days and the clearest of nights, it rages just beneath the surface. You’ve learned to love it in a way, nurture rather than fight its unrelenting anger like so many of your crewmates. It’s more peaceful that way. More grateful, the both of you. No matter where you went or what you did, you were always drawn back to the sea in the end, the waves tugging at your feet and thoughts. So you board a ship headed for the end of the world, in pursuit of the whales and stingrays and jellyfish. Where it’s going isn’t important. You’re happiest with the breeze in your hair and the smell of salt in the air. There’s nowhere better than here, despite the distance and lonesome days.

Fishing is commonplace. Nets and hooks and harpoons to catch and kill even the strongest beasts. Although those creatures are rarely seen- the traps fill mostly with ordinary fish and crabs to be sold at various docks and shores. Occasionally a fish will be too small, those are the ones you like the most. The tiny, writhing things you cup in your hands and slip back into the ocean, to grow and live and thrive. They wriggle once they hit the water, splashing over your fingers and disappearing through the murky waves, and you smile, waving goodbye. Goodbye, goodbye, farewell. Live happy and free. The sound of yelling and shouts reaches your ears, a morning with the sun high in the sky. For a moment you barely spare a glance, busily knotting ropes together, but the commotion increases and heightens and jabs at your senses until you clap your hands down and rise to your feet, blocking out the noise with your palms. A coworker rushes and tugs on your arm, yanking you in the direction of the horrid din. It’s loud and awful and you hate it, but there’s a crowd surrounding one of the nets whispering about how they don’t want to deal with it, make you deal with it.

You’re pushed forward and come face-to-face with a very trapped, livid sea monster. A mermaid- maybe, that would be the right term. You’re not sure. Siren, perhaps? Whatever the word, the poor creature thrashes and struggles, her long tail tangled and jerking in the tight grip of the net. She growls viciously at you and everyone, a low, threateningly guttural sound, but there’s blood on her face and valleys of crushed scales where the ropes wrap around her and you can’t help but approach, holding your hands up where she can see them. A spark of fear flashes through her eyes, all brown and gold and narrow, but she bares her teeth and hisses deeper, ragged fins flaring in sharp lines. You sigh, turning and shooing the rest of the crew away with a quick motion. They stare in disbelief, more worried about their potential catch, and you give them a steely look that sends them scampering and trickling away until it’s just you. Just you and an angry, scared mercreature.

Perhaps your captain wasn’t lying when she called you an excellent candidate for successor. The sea beast shuffles away from you when you look back, pressed against the rail of the ship. Her chest rises and falls, too quickly, and slowly you kneel and sit on the deck, hands upturned. She’s taller when you’re sitting. Overall, too, her long tail curled in coils of dark green scales. You don’t mention the tattoos and scars littering her body, the claws that lash out and graze your skin; fixing your gaze with hers, you sit a little ways away and speak quietly. “I’m not going to hurt you. I need to get close to help, alright?”

It does little to curve the fear in her eyes, but her talons curl into her webbed hands and she sits, silently, watching your every move. You try not to stare. Really, you try. You focus on the ropes and net, the stains of blood against algae and beige. But your gaze still contains a hint of awe as you gingerly unwind her fins, meticulous around the crushed scales until you finally pull and toss the net to the side. A soft, relieved sound escapes her, a combination of a sigh and a whimper, and for a moment longer the mermaid observes you with a piercing stare, almost curious as her breaths slow and steady. Then she shakes out her dark braids and bows her head slightly to you, leaping over the side and back into the sea without a word. Droplets of water hit your face, and you blink and sit in shock with the world quiet all around you apart from the distant cries of the gulls.

The sun begins to set in fiery orange and pink. It’s replaced by deep twilight and stars, and the ship sails onward. Goodbye, goodbye, farewell. I hope I see you again. The next night is met with cold winds and clouds, all the rabble packed away in the cabins while you tidy up outside. The ropes are rough and twined. You’re used to it. There are constellations of calluses on your palms and a few on your arms. They’re like tiny treasures, gemstones that don’t sparkle but rather help you grip your tools, the harpoons and knives and hammers and screwdrivers around the ship. The boat rocks, once, and you continue neatly wrapping the ropes you braided together. You hear a splash somewhere from behind, then a thud. It’s not quiet, louder than when an unfortunate bird accidentally flies directly into the mast. A pair of familiar brown-gold eyes meet your own and you automatically stumble back from a cold jolt of surprise.

The merbeast’s ears flick when you fall into a sit, pointed and webbed with a dark green tinge, just like her scales, her long tail draped messily over the railing. All you can do is sit, mouth slightly open, as she slowly shifts and inches towards you, tilting her head. Her tail slithers almost like a snake, the fins torn, riddled with holes and approaching you cautiously from across the deck until she’s only a foot or so away. She’s still taller. Looming over you, gaze sharp and keenly aware. You don’t dare move- there are two outcomes, one ending in her fear and the other ending in your blood being spilled. Neither sound appealing. So instead you simply stare at each other, even though your wrists are beginning to burn from how your hands are bent against the deck. The creature’s ears twitch once more, and light as a feather her tail fin brushes against one of your legs before withdrawing again.

You blink. She blinks. Slowly you raise a hand and give her a cautious wave, and she mimics the gesture, fingers much stronger than your own. You can’t help how your lips curve into a small, genuine smile, and the mermaid’s dark eyes glint with something curious and satisfied. She returns the next evening. And the next. And the next, the wounds from that dreaded net healing day by day. Always at night, and always when everyone else has gone off to bed, with the same splash and thump. For a bit you think she might be scoping out you as a potential meal, but she only sits by you and watches intently. Whatever you do, whether it’s work or rope weaving or something calm like reading, she stares and observes. She doesn’t directly touch you- not for a while, apart from light grazes from her tail and hair, merely drawing ever so slightly closer with each visit. Sometimes you’ll idly talk to her and she listens in silence. You ask her lighthearted questions, and she tips her head with no response. It’s alright. Her presence alone is oddly comfortable, and gradually her stiff posture relaxes until her braids often drift over your skin.

You ask her what her name is, every day, and she says nothing until a week and one night have passed. “Queequeg.” Her voice is quiet and deep and initially you think you imagined it. But she repeats the word firmly and follows it by very gently nudging her head against your shoulder. “Queequeg.” That evening her tail curls lightly around you, and you see her smile, and it’s small and warm and safe.

Queequeg seems to have deemed you the same, habitually wrapping herself more and more around your body each day until she’s practically snuggling with you, entirely unashamed. She still doesn’t talk much, preferring to hear your voice instead, but when she does it’s soft and careful, like her mouth isn’t used to the words. You’re allowed to touch her as well, running your fingers over her scales and webbed hands and ears, the ropes knotted around her arms and wrists, and when you reach her cheek Queequeg’s eyes close and she nuzzles into your palm with a subtle purr. And she does the same to you, cupping your face in her claws and bumping her forehead against yours, pressing the tip of your noses together.

Her eyes shine with some sort of tender delight, and you can’t help but smile back. Her favorite resting place is your lap, her head pressing to your legs as you idly fiddle with her long braids. She did them herself, she tells you with a hint of pride, even the gold cuffs, and you hum as she lightly bites and nibbles your fingers, leaving faint indents behind. “You’re silly,” you mumble to her, rubbing a thumb beneath her eyes. Silly and sweet and gentle for such a ferocious, intimidating creature. She simply bares her sharp teeth at you without a hint of malice, the stars coming out up above.

Queequeg loves the sunset and the stars. They make fiery colors and silver in her hair and eyes, across her glinting scales. She watches the sky, and you watch her with all your attention. You do your best to recount any stories of constellations you’ve heard to her, even if you’ve forgotten. There are stories from her, too, whispered in halting sentences as she grips her arms, digging at the tattoos she despises. The scars speckled across her dark skin become clearer, more vivid, but she clasps your hands in hers and meets your eyes with a firm stare. “Listen. I tell you. Trust you.” You suck in a breath, only able to nod, and she brings your hands up and holds them to her forehead, then her lips.

She calls you hers on that chilly evening, ears lowering in a rare show of nervousness. But you just lean up and kiss her forehead, Queequeg’s breath catching as she cuddles insistently closer to you. The ship doesn’t feel so lonesome anymore, not with a constant friend beneath the waves. Your crewmates wonder and ask how you went from quiet and withdrawn to happy overnight. Still quiet, but happy. And you just shrug with a laugh, that you don’t really know, and they clap you on the shoulders and laugh along with you. They don’t have to know. They’ve all forgotten the peculiar sea monster in the net, by now. You and Queequeg are each other’s special secret.

One day you encounter a whale and it sends everyone into a tizzy. It rips the sky and sea apart, the lightning illuminating the pouring, drenching rain as you and your coworkers scramble to right the ship and not be swallowed by foam and saltwater. It’s loud, so horribly loud, and you wish Queequeg was here to hold you tightly against her chest and block out the noise. Your captain hollers for you to get away, the madness gleaming in her eyes sending a strike of fear into your bones where it sits and settles to corrode. The moment the ship flees from the whale, the storm tapers off into a steady drizzle, a few stains of blood across the deck yet no one worse for wear as gray clouds blanket overhead. That night, Queequeg is nowhere to be found.

You fret, unable to stop yourself. You’ve always worried, been a worrier, and Queequeg is yours. She’s yours, and you’re hers. You spend hours pacing the deck, snapping your head towards the water at any noise only to be met with disappointment, unable to sleep. She doesn’t reappear the next night. Or the ones after that. Your crewmates observe your lethargy and dampened mood with concern, always giving you something to do or work on. In a way, you’re grateful. It distracts you from the hollow, nauseating pit in your stomach. Perhaps they know that, too. Days pass into weeks, into months. Still, no Queequeg. Maybe, you think while choking back tears, she left and forgot about you. Maybe she realized you’re too different. In your loneliest moments, you unearth your last shred of hope and dream otherwise. Goodbye, goodbye, farewell. I miss you.

The wind bats your face, crisp and fresh and smelling like the sea you’ve always loved as your shoes hit the deck, a length of rope in your hands. It’s practice, you say to the others. A special knot you learned from someone. You never tell them who, exactly, but they agree it’s the sturdiest knot that’s been tied. The rope you carry is new, just braided, and the waves splash as you absentmindedly study the new calluses on your skin. Something tackles you, sending your body flying and colliding hard against the wood. You groan in pain, head spinning. An equally distressed growl reaches your ears.

That something is on top of your prone body, draped across and covering almost every inch. It’s long with dark scales, but covered in a horrid white membrane, spreading like veins. Your captain calls it Pallidification. It comes from that whale and eats away at the body and mind, slowly, until you devolve into nothing but a hungry, empty thing. But it’s a familiar face; familiar eyes, familiar ropes now practically fused to the body, familiar braids even though they’re stuck together by pale muck.

Queequeg stares down at you, breathing heavily. Her eyes are wide, pupils dilating and claws holding your shoulders in a vice grip before she abruptly pulls you even closer and holds you tight. A pitiful whine slips from her mouth and cracks your heart in two, her voice garbled and incoherent except for one word. Your name. Which she repeats over and over, holding your cheeks and crying. You, you, you- it’s all she says, pressing close and ignoring your stunned and terrified coworkers. Queequeg coughs, violently, the pallid membrane having engulfed her throat, and buries her face into your shoulder, trembling. All you can do is hug her back, running a hand over her spine, trying not to sob yourself. She shudders under your delicate touch, desperately digging her claws into your clothes with broken croons and gasps; small, quiet, heart wrenching noises.

One brave crewmate takes a step closer, and Queequeg’s fins flare as she whips around and snarls at him. They all back away with a whisper, a few running off to find the captain, but Queequeg’s attention has returned to you and you alone, nudging your hand pleadingly with tears tracking down her features. They’re blurred and warped from the Pallidification, the tattoos she so hated and the scars you spent hours tracing over vanishing as the white tissue consumes her, slowly. She still leans into your palm when you caress her face, gripping you with unspoken words.

Sorry. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.

The rest of the crew disperses to search for the captain, to capture this strange pallid creature. It’ll lead them toward the whale, the whale they’ve begun pursuing ever since the captain laid eyes upon it. Then the voyage will be over. Everything will end. So they leave you with the monster behind on the deck- it acts oddly docile when it’s focused on only you- to knock against the captain’s door, smelling the smoke from her pipe. It, it, it. They call her an it. Your arms tighten as you frown.

Queequeg slumps in your arms, twining her tail around your leg. The dark green scales you love are coated in white, chewing away at her from the inside out. She used to put her chin atop your head. Now she bumps under your jaw, curling into a tight coil and trying to cling to you, trying to become smaller and disappear because it hurts, everything hurts and she couldn’t get to you and when she finally opened her eyes again you were gone. Now she barely remembers anything other than the pallid, the pallid and the pain and you, you, always you. You alone kept her marginally sane. Don’t leave. Please, don’t leave, don’t make her leave. She nuzzles against your collarbone with an exhausted sigh, fiddling with your hand until she carefully laces your fingers with her webbed ones.

She needs to go, now, or the captain will arrive with her chains and mad grin. But she refuses to. Not without you. Never without you, not again. Queequeg glances between you and the ocean, tugging on your arm. She lets out another pleading noise, hollow and echoing like whalesong. You- she’s only safe with you. It’s not safe for you here, not anymore. Those people were looking at you, like you were something to be dealt with. It’s not safe.

You hesitate again, and Queequeg’s eyes soften at the splinters of fear in your expression. Her hand cups the back of your head, pallid claws settled gently on your hair as she guides you towards her and tenderly presses her lips against yours. A purr hum through her chest when she pulls away, the sound unsteady and weaker than the last time you heard it. But it’s there and her hand is on your cheek and Queequeg leans in to bump her forehead against yours, one of her braids coming free of the pale membrane.

“Mine.” You’re hers, and she’s yours. A peculiar, loving pair. By the time the crew returns with the captain in tow, nothing remains but a few veins of white infection and the crashing turbulence of foamy sea waves. Goodbye, goodbye. Farewell. 

[frankensteinzmonstrrr]

The Benefits of Being a Marine Biologist (Part 2)

Part 1 Merman x transmasc reader Contains: getting to know your monster crush Warnings: discussion of top surgery & scars Length: 1.5K words

The next evening, you manage to leave the lab a bit early, mumbling excuses about not feeling well. You weren't exactly lying; the thought of seeing the merman again was giving you butterflies in your stomach. You had slept poorly last night, kept awake wondering if there was any way you could have imagined your encounter with the creature. It seemed impossible, but you knew it all really happened. You remembered the soft, cool touch of his hand against yours.

Grimacing at how slowly you are forced to drive down the sandy gravel road, you finally reach the trailhead. You practically leap out of your car, grabbing your tote bag containing swim trunks and a flashlight.

Once solidly within the privacy of the brush, you change out your lab-safety-approved chinos for your bathing suit as fast as you can, your need to rush of course making you fumble more than usual. You all but run down the rest of the path.

As soon as you emerge from the grass and your feet hit the soft sand of the beach, you see a shape pop up from the water by the rocks. As you begin to walk to the opposite side of the shoreline, your hopes are confirmed: it's Abalone. He waves to you awkwardly, clearly imitating an observed human gesture.

As you walk toward him, you try to quickly study his appearance. Yesterday you were too shocked to observe the finer details of what he looks like. His silvery skin transitions to darker gray shades towards his hands and on his tail, clearly some kind of point coloring. Despite being aquatic, he somehow has what looks like long, dark hair. You wonder if his "hair" is actually spines of some kind. His face is shockingly human, his features just a bit sharper and with somewhat large eyes. Your eyes wander down and you see that he has very humanoid pectoral and abdominal muscles, too. Realizing that you've been staring at him for at least a full minute, you drop your gaze to your feet as you approach the water's edge.

"I brought clothes to swim!" you call to him. You don't feel the need to fully shout, because he clearly had heard you coming from the trail. "I hope it's not too cold!"

You toss your bag and your t-shirt behind you onto the dry sand. As you step into the water the chill bites at your feet, but it's a tolerable cold. You wade out along the edge of the rocks until the water reaches almost to your shoulders. Seeming to realize that any further out would be an uncomfortable depth for a human, Abalone closes the remaining gap between the two of you, swimming gracefully just below the water's surface. You observe that his tail moves from side to side like a fish, not up and down like a whale or dolphin. Fascinating.

Abalone smiles at you as he surfaces and adjusts himself to be upright in the shallower water. You simply look at each other for a moment, both unsure what to say. He breaks the silence with his odd laugh. "You are so short!"

Instinctively you cross your arms and reply, "No I am not! I'm average height. For a human," you add. "I could say that you're so tall... Or long?"

"Fair enough." You can't help but wonder if he learned that phrase from you. "What do you do during the daytime?"

"I go and work as a scientist." You struggle to think of a simple enough explanation for someone who doesn't know what a computer is. "I record all sorts of things about animals and plants from the ocean."

"Very nice. Sounds very nice," he replied thoughtfully. "During the day sometimes I sleep, sometimes I hunt. Not much to do."

"What do you hunt?"'

"All the fish," he grinned. With those sharp teeth, it only makes sense that he's a carnivore. "The bigger the fish, the better to eat. Once I caught a shark almost as big as me. Have you ever eaten shark?"

Abalone seemed to have as many questions for you as you did for him. "No, I haven't. Humans don't really eat shark. Except for in soup, but I'm honestly not sure if that's real."

"Shark soup," he repeated. "Soup isn't real."

"No!" you laugh. "Soup is a real food. It's like cooking things in water."

"What ever," he said, clearly enunciating the two words as separate. That only makes you giggle more.

You look down into the water and notice how Abalone's tail is crammed underneath himself in the shallow depth. "Here, let me go up on the rocks and sit somewhere where you can sit normally too." He doesn't say anything in response, just bobbing along happily in the water as you climb up onto the stone pile and move further out into the water.

When you take a seat on the least offensive boulder, Abalone joins you on the rock's edge. Suddenly, he points to you and says, "You're like me."

"What?"

"You're like me," he says again, pointing to your chest and then to his.

Oh. He sees your top surgery scars, faded but still visible, and is pointing to faint striping on his own torso. "N-no," you stammer. "Those are my scars. I don't have stripes like you."

"Ah. Scars from what?"

"I don't know if you'll understand. They're from surgery... something that had to be done for medicine? For healing?"

"I see." Dropping the subject, he silently moved a bit closer to you and rested his chin on the rock next to where you sat. "You have very small claws."

"I don't need them as much as you probably do." You involuntarily imagine his dark talons ripping through the flesh of his prey.

Abalone reached for your hand and gently pulled at it. You let him lift it towards him. You hadn't noticed before that his fingers are webbed. Makes sense.

He held up his hand flat against yours, and you mirrored his movement. He pressed his palm against yours, sending a shiver down your spine. He gazed in wonder at your hand and wrist, no doubt thinking about what a tiny human you are.

You stared right back at his hand, and arm, and body. His hand is definitely larger than yours, but not by much. He seemed to have the proportions of a very tall man, with a several yards long tail instead of legs. Without thinking, you take your hand from his and reach forward to touch his hair. The fibers are coarser than human hair, as you expected. Your thoughts of what it could be composed of if not keratin are interrupted when you realized that he is leaning in to your touch.

You yank your hand back automatically and begin to apologize, but Abalone grabs your hand and pulls you forward into the water. The cold shocks you, but you still notice that his hand is warm in the icy ocean.

Holding onto you with one arm as if he's not fully convinced you can swim, he turns and points at the sky. "The sun is almost down. Don't stay late."

He was right. Only the last slivers of the orange sun remained above the horizon. "Thank you. You're right, I should leave now."

Still holding your hand, he began to swim towards the shore. You laugh and tell him you can swim, insisting that the doesn't need to drag you along, but he doesn't listen. You can't see into the water very well in the increasing dimness, but you think you see the glint of his mischievous smile.

He releases your hand once your feet touch the sandy floor. "Will you come back tomorrow?"

You open your mouth to tell him yes, but your heart drops when you remember that you have to stay at the lab late for a meeting the next night. "I'm sorry, I can't. I have to work."

Abalone frowns at that, his playful demeanor vanishing. "When can you come back?"

"I'm not sure. Maybe in two days?... I wish there was some way I could tell you when I can come here."

"It's alright," he said, quieter than usual, but then a small smile creeped back onto his face. "I can wait for you here! At sunset!"

"Every day?" you laugh incredulously. "You can't wait for me every single day."

"Yes I can. I did it today and it was easy."

You shake your head in bewilderment. "Okay, if you say so."

"Okay!" he repeated. He reached out toward you and gently pushed you toward the shore. "You need to go home. It's almost dark."

You sigh and start trudging through the gentle waves, twisting around so you're still facing him. "I'll see you soon. I promise."

When you reach the shore and gather your things, he waves goodbye to you in the same stiff, odd way. You smile ear to ear as you wave back.

The walk back to your car is freezing cold, with only the beam of your flashlight illuminating the path, but you couldn't be happier. You had left work claiming illness, but now you feel even stranger than you did before.

Author's notes: thank you so much for reading, and for all the support on the first part! Part 3 will be coming soon. Tip Jar on Ko-Fi

[honey-minded-hivemind]

This is the first one I cleaned up, kinda not finished and I didn't color it cause I'm on a boring car trip :p (also i don't mind this ask not being anonymous) - Lamb Anon

Oh. My. Carp. That is so good! Look at poor little humpback whale siren Reader! They need hugs! And blankets! And some antiseptic! I love the detail you did along the tail, the way it blends the same way a humpback whale would, when the gray/black meets the white/pale gray... And their little face! It's very expressive, showing their discomfort and fear and sadness... It's really, really good, 🐑 Anon, or if you prefer, Opossum.

I think you did a great job💖

[inkbitten]

Hey could you do an Ahab x reader who knows a ton about the ocean pls?

AHAB X A READER WHO KNOWS ABOUT THE OCEAN.

(p.s: i'm only on canto 4.. if this is inaccurate i'm sorgy,,,.,, i asked friends how ahab is!!)

AHAB is quick to put your pretty little mind to use. do you know how to use the stars to transverse the ocean? she has you right at her side while she steers in the dead of night.

her arm wraps around your waist, bringing you closer as she urges you to murmur the direction she's steering the boat in. she uses the nighttime to get closer to you, using her incredible charisma to get you more and more attached to her.

she isn't.. entirely interested in the fun facts you tell her. after all, how is knowing that the ocean homes 94% of life supposed to help her find the pallid whale?! she listens regardless, knowing that at least smiling and nodding will keep you close to her.

she's more interested when you inform her on the habits of whales. what do you mean, gray whales are "mostly 'right—handed'?" haha!

ahab thinks you're the most useful out of everyone, what with your extreme oceanic knowledge. you wouldn't mind if she moved you into her stateroom, would you? it's best to make sure that her crew-mates don't dumb you down.

[therealdeucespade]

I saw this thing where it said - “if you date a writer, you will never die” which I think fits- bc I’d imagine, the triplets going to work for STYX but being stationed in different areas to gather info. The exception being Azael who stays at headquarters- but each have their own lil side thing.

Azael: a artist

Artemis: fashion brand designer

Kousuke: you guessed it, a writer. He Disney stuck to one area, so he’s all over the place, from sonnets to poems, novels to comics, ect. He just experiments.

But throughout his work there’s this one constant, a guy who’s a great whale shark merman . Specifically with mismatched eyes, and a sky blue color scheme, be it small locks of hair, full hair, ect. And you can’t forget the freckles. Ofc The design varies, but those are prominent features. Be it all in one, separate, is up to you. But it’s very obvious these characters are based on someone. Even if the character isn’t relevant to the story, he’ll make some appearance. His name (if he’s a more prominent side character, or someone in the main cast) his name will always start with an ‘H’. Sometimes, if adapted into a show or smth, you’d hear another person call out the characters name if he isn’t all the important.

One thing to note, the character is always seen either alone, with a character that looks somewhat similar , or with another character just two inches shorter.

With poems, they’d talk abt a love for a man whose eyes weren’t the same the same as the other. Sky blue being in the authors field of vision. With a gray eye that should resemble storm clouds, but still light up as if it were the suns own eyes. Hair somewhat untamed compared to the authors own tamed and carefully done hair. With each difference there was a similarity.

To readers/fans it’s very obvious this man/character is someone very dear to the author(ofc only if you knew where to look). A lover even , but no one knows who the author is talking abt. Can’t figure out either since the author rarely does interviews, uses a pen name as well. However it’s safe to say the Author is horribly smitten, and very ‘loudly’ proclaims his own love, in his own way, to this lover.

[writers-hes]

this could be a disaster! (e. munson x reader)

Eddie gives you a note confessing his feelings and he’s terrified at the possibility of your shared friendship crumbling down. (Based on the song ‘Disaster’ by Conan Gray. Photos used in the collage aren’t mine.) helpful links: navigation | master lists | rules and guidelines | tag list | fic recs

“You have to tell her!” was Dustin’s favorite sentence recently. It wasn’t his fault; it was Eddie’s. He’d  turn into a blubbering mess every time he talked to you. It wasn’t Eddie’s fault either; it was yours. Who in their right mind could wake up early in the morning and look that pretty? It was your fault.

Soon enough, it was Steve’s favorite sentence too. After hearing it from Dustin once, he started parroting the same words to Eddie.

“You have to tell her, Eddie. Or at least talk to her without embarrassing yourself,” he’d say while you were watching the popcorn in the microwave for a spontaneous movie night at your place.

“It’s not that easy, Steve,” Eddie would complain. He’d list off the things that could probably go wrong if he decided to tell you about his emotions. “The probability of her freaking out is a hundred. She told me herself that she’s not looking for anything right now,”

The matter would be closed because you’d saunter with a smile on your face, a popcorn bowl on one hand and a drink on the other.

“What’s going on?” you’d ask but Eddie would only let out an inconspicuous lie about something he’d randomly think of.

It wasn’t until you were all at Steve’s party when Eddie knew that he fucked up big time. It wasn’t his fault. Alcohol was called liquid courage for a reason and he needed it. He gulped cups of punch and took shots from anyone who’d offer. Steve tried to slow him down but it wasn’t working. He needed courage.

“You know, Eddie,” you drawled, looking at him with hooded eyes, equally drunk. “If we finished that bottle of tequila on Robin’s hand, we’d get so wasted,”

“What’s got you…drinking?”

“You,” you’d shrug. “wanna keep up. Did you know that whales are like, seven feet in length?”

“That’s really, really, really long,” he’d reply. The alcohol didn’t quite hit him yet. He was drunk but still aware of his surroundings. You were long gone, leaning on his shoulders while you tried to imagine how long whales were.

“That’s like two and a half Steves,” you giggled and Eddie loved hearing your voice. “Hm…do you think Steve is going bald when we get older?”

“Alright, you two,” Steve chastises. “You’re both clearly drunk. Lay off on the alcohol, hm?”

“Boo!” Eddie hears you. “Stop taking the fun away from me,”

“Come on,” Steve says. “Let me get you upstairs so you can sleep beside Robin,”

“Wait!”

“What is it, Eddie?” Steve asks while he hoists you up. You were actually gone now and your weight was fully on Steve.

“I wrote a note,” Eddie reaches out to put the note in your hands before sitting back, downing the rest of his drink.

“What is it?” you asked, opening to read it but you were barely coherent and you couldn’t read at all. You smiled and stuffed it inside your jean pocket. “Can’t read…will do tomorrow,”

Steve looks pointedly at Eddie who avoids his eyes. He’d be sure to talk to him about it later but for now, you had to get up to one of the guest bedrooms and sleep.

True enough, Steve finds Eddie by the pool pacing.

“Fuckfuckfuck,” mutters Eddie under his breath. What if he just did the wrong thing? This could all end in a disaster. What if you laughed in his face and ended the friendship? Oh, God. He couldn’t possibly take that rejection from you.

“Saw the note,” Steve announces and Eddie looks up in horror. “It’s okay, you know,”

“No, it’s not,” Eddie replies. “I just ruined everything! Oh, God. Steve, help me! Remove the note from her pockets or something,” he whines.

“I can’t! She stuffed it in her back pockets,” was Steve’s lame reply and Eddie only groans, hiding his face in embarrassment.

“I read all the signs wrong, didn’t I?” he asked. “But what friend calls me every night just to talk? Or that time when she showed up at the Hideout just because? Or when she took care of me when I got sick? Those are signs! Am I reading into it too much?”

“No. I mean if that happened to me, I’d also assume the same, you know,”

Eddie could feel himself sobering up as every second passed. He didn’t know what to do. Should he go up there, wake you up and then demand for his note back? He couldn’t even leave Steve’s party because of how bad he was thinking about it.

“I’ll leave you alone for a bit. Why don’t you sit down and just…calm down?” Steve suggests. “I have to help Robin anyway,”

-

Eddie wakes up with knots on his back and a twist in his neck. He just had the worst sleep of his night, save for the blanket draped on his body. He remembers what he did last night…how he gave you a note…how he slept on Steve’s pool chair because he couldn’t just be bothered anymore. Thank God Steve was decent enough to offer him a fleece blanket.

How could he possibly face you now? He groans and hides himself deeper into the blanket.

“Good morning, Eddie,” he hears and he just knows that it was you. What time was it, anyway? He looks at his watch and realizes that it was almost noon. “Read your note,”

Eddie lays still.

“Won’t you look at me?” you asked and Eddie sits up, a pink tint on his cheeks.

“I feel like shit, sweetheart,” he croaks. You offer the glass of water that you got for him and he gulps it down. “Oh, wow. That’s so good.”

“Yeah.” you nod, feeling shy under his gaze. “Sorry, if I woke you up…but I just found your note,”

“It’s not real! Not real. I was so drunk last night, you know? Shouldn’t have done that, really,” he pedals. You only smile. Eddie had the habit of running away and this—for a lack of better term, was adorable.

“You’re such a liar,” you chuckled and he whips his head towards you.

“Excuse me?”

“You’re such a liar,” you repeat. “No drunk person would write in this legible handwriting, you know?”

“Yes, there is,”

“Even this rose drawing? You did that drunk?” you taunt and Eddie just looks away, embarrassed to have been caught. He could feel his throat constrict.

“You don’t have to reply. But can you just let me down easy? We can just move past this and never talk about it ever again,” he mutters.

“I feel the same, if you were wondering,” you replied. “Been feeling that way for a long time…”

“You do?” was his shy reply, peeking towards you. “You’re not pulling my leg?”

“No, I’m not. Why would I call you? Why would I take care of you? Cook you food even though I hate cooking?”

“Because you’re a good friend?”

“Because I love you too, Eddie,” you replied and he finally beams.

“Come again?”

“I love you too,” you repeat, watching his ears turn pink.

“Sweetheart, if I wasn’t so disgusting right now, I would come over and kiss you,” he says, pulling the loose thread on the blanket absentmindedly.

“Why don’t we both freshen up and meet up again later for dinner? Let’s see if you’re not just all talk,”

“It’s a date?”

“It’s a date.” (A/N: While your likes and reblogs are appreciated, please don’t forget to comment and tell me what you think! Sorry for my absence. Will try to write more.)

TAGLIST: @rayodesol97 @moistmocca @munsonology​ @sadbitchfangirl​ @bebe0701​ @tayhar811​ @aol19​ @eddiesprincess86​ @undeadgirlsworld​ @rosemarythl @rosemary_thl @eddiethesexy​ @sister-cirice​ @weaslyslut01 @himynameisjeff​ @captainweirdo42​ @alyisdead​ 

[lowtaperfeyd]

Insouicant

Duncan Idaho x Reader (could be read as either romantic or platonic)

warnings: nothing from what I can see but let me know if other wise. also the whale facts may be wrong

author's note: haven't written in quite awhile but with the release of dune prophecy tn I wrote a little blurb :D

wc: 404

“Did you know that sandworms can be at least 450 meters long?” Duncan Idaho sputtered out, trying to clear the air, “apparently that's 15 times the size of a whale, whatever that is.”

The air around them was tense and dull. Nothing made sense to them. The Harkonnens came and ravaged Arrakeen and now they were on a ‘thopter miles out into the desert. Beside from Duncan’s comment, the only thing (Y/N) could hear was the sound of dust and spice against the aircraft with the subtle hum of the ornithopter in the background. 

“I did know that,” their words bit against the lighthearted tone belonging to Duncan. (Y/N) was slumped over in their seat with a harness to hold them up. 

“Why whales?” they managed to croak out, their voice hoarse from the battle that had occurred. 

“I don’t know,” Duncan said, breathing out a tight laugh, “but they probably wouldn’t like this place.”

Both of them fell back into the rhythm they were in before, a quiet sense of confusion and grief. As time went on the sun began to steadily rise against the dust and sand waste of Arrakis. The rays bashed against their eyes and made them squint. Even with the glass of the ornithopter, they began to feel the oppressive heat from the sun. There was an odd beauty to the scene in front of them, how easy it was to fall into the signal of the new day when you had previously just lost everything. 

(Y/N) turned in their seat to face Duncan, the light reflected off his tan skin and green eyes like a flashlight off a mirror. His eyes were clear and focused on flying their way to safety. But there was a cast of solemn sadness over them. 

“Did you know that gray whales migrate about 10,000 miles in one trip?” They asked, still looking at his eyes with a soft look. 

“No I didn’t,” he replied in a whisper-like tone, glancing over at them slightly. 

“Is that important?” he asked in return. 

“For us, no,” they began, “for them, yes.”

Duncan let out a small chuckle at their words. It seemed to both of them that they would be okay. That the current cares on their shoulders could slide off. That they would find a safe place, even if it was 10,000 miles away. A safe place without worry.

[naffeclipse]

naff plz, I'm weak and and I hunger 👀

Turns out I am too. This was supposed to only be 500 words. Now we're here smh

Minnow

Reader x Shark!Eclipse

Content Warning for suggestive themes.

———

You have a problem on your hands.

Sitting on the edge of a sea-salt slick rock in your dark wetsuit, the ocean breeze sweeping your hair into tangles, you stare. A whale carcass sits heavy and rotting. The edges of the waves roll up on the flat, tan sand of your seaside home and tug at the giant, dead beast, but one fin is only loosened slightly before the water returns without its passenger. The scent of a festering body hangs in the air and coats the back of your throat.

A sharp fin cuts through the wave farther from shore. You glance at it, but whatever fish swims near dives below, out of sight.

You turn back to the very big problem. It will ruin the beach for the tourists. You’re a council member only in name—more of a glorified intern, despite your best efforts to not only fetch coffee. Whenever there’s a job that doesn’t involve sitting inside around a table, away from the heat and humidity of a summery, oceanic day, it’s pushed into your lap to fix.

You have no idea how to remove a 40-ton whale from the sands.

Your right leg slips off of the rock and your foot splashes into the sea. Before you can fix your stance, tug your knees up to balance on the rock while the tide splashes at the base of your little watery perch, a clawed hand seizes your ankle.

A sharp gasp rips from you. Ripped downwards, you brace yourself, screwing your eyes shut as the ocean water rushes up your body, but something plants itself on either side of you. Pinned to the rock, you shiver at the fresh touch of the sea lapping at your ribs. Your feet barely find the purchase of sand. A shadow falls over your eyelids, and a soft hum spins through the breeze.

“Hello,” a voice growls deep, rumbling through the air and brushing against it. “Might I ask why you’re frowning so much?”

You slowly pry open one eye, then the other before your jaw loosens in wonder and fear. 

A creature looms above you. His head is wide and flat, colored a dark gray. Strange cartilaginous fins frame his head in a crown of sharp, red, and black spikes. The moment you gawk, he flashes a dangerous row of curved teeth with serrated edges. The very breath catches in your throat while his arms, sleek and barred with burnt red stripes, hold you against the sleek rock. 

Your eyes fall down his body. His lithe frame melts from a very human torso into the body of a predatory fishtail—a shark. His underside is pale gray while his back is dark, bearing a wicked dorsal fin with the same barred patterns down his sides in burnt red. Just below the surface, you catch a swishing of a caudal fin. Long and pointed, it cuts through the ocean as if it were mere seafoam.

“What—who are you?” you sputter. Your hands hold defensively to your chest while you return to his unearthly but memorizing face. His eyes burn low in a sharp orange light. 

“I am Eclipse.” He lifts one hand from the rock. A dark talon tips his long, thin finger before he hooks your chin, tilting your head up. The sharp edge teases your skin with how easily it can slice you. You swallow apprehension. His eyes fall to your throat, his teeth flashing in the sunlight. “And I asked you a question.”

Your pulse picks up in your ears, beating double time against the tide. What did he ask you? The echo of his words returns. You slowly form an ‘O’ with your lips.

“I’m not, um, frowning?” Certainly not now, if the terror you hide behind says anything. You curl your fingers into tight balls. “Were you watching me?”

The strange man-fish chuckles a low sound—as if you’re very silly. “I was. You’re quite a lovely sight, perched on this rock like a seabird. But you seemed troubled. You still do.”

He slowly forces your head to tilt this way and that, moving you under the sunlight while he examines you with his piercing gaze. You let him, utterly, horribly confused about how this all came to be. Does he intend to devour you like a tiger shark? Or is it a very strange ‘hello’?

A hum of satisfaction arises, but he is no less intrigued by what he’s captured in his hand. You try to turn away but he holds firm and clicks his tongue.

“There is still something vexing you” he concludes, “Tell me, so I might make it right.”

You almost level a look at him, as if the very interesting occurrence of a fish-man grabbing you and pulling you into the water isn’t vexing enough, but mind your manners. His claws press along your mouthbone. Your heart beats heavy in your chest, against the splashing waters, but your eyes flick towards the beach. Eclipse follows your gaze with narrowed eyes.

“Dead whale,” you say, hoping he doesn’t decide to cut your face with his claws, “I need it off the beach, but, um, I’m not sure how to do that.”

“Oh,” he laughs, and you stop to soak in the echo of his shoulder, melodic and growling. “Is that all? A simple solution, minnow, but I do ask for a small token in return for my help.”

You stiffen. A skip in your chest sends a coldness into your legs and fingertips. You look down, staring at the thin corded strength of his chest, the lissom power of his tail, and how easily he could drag you out to sea should you not give an answer he wants to hear.

How could a herculean task be so easy in his eyes? You almost don’t believe him.

“Minnow,” he rumbles softly and forces your head up higher to capture your gaze. You shiver in the brine. “It’s nothing to be afraid of. I will help you, and you will give me what I desire.”

Desire can be very, very dangerous.

“I’m not giving you people’s souls or whatever,” you say firmly, even if your eyes grow wet with terror. 

Eclipse swipes a thumb along your cheek, wetting it with sea salt and foam. His grin stretches wide until you see into his massive jaws.

“What use would I have of souls?” His tongue swipes over his row of serrated teeth. “No, I want something much more tangible.”

He squeezes your mouth softly until your lips are pushed into a pout, and realization jolts straight into your stomach. A dreaded blood rush fills your cheeks. You burn. Eclipse tilts his head, his eyes widening, flashing with the hunger of a shark in the depths.

“What do you want?” you whisper, your eyelids trembling as you nearly squeeze them shut again.

He leans in closer. You smell the sharp tang of iron and salt upon his breath.

“Seven kisses.”

Your eyes fly open, relieved and mortified. Unfurling your fingers, you try to shake your head but your jaw remains caught in the vice of his grips.

“Seven?” You sputter before spewing, “That’s—that’s a lot!”

“It’s a perfectly natural amount for the task I will undertake for you.” He draws the pad of his finger down the line of your jaw. A shiver overtakes your shoulders as you close your eyes for a heartbeat.

“And if I say no?” you ask quietly, watching him in the way you fear a minnow might watch a shark. 

He leans back. The corners of his mouth pull down.

“Then we shall both be disappointed, and I will leave.”

Your mind whirls at the thought—an easy ‘no’, but you don’t know if you trust him. Why would he do such a task? Why kisses of all things? Will he turn you into a fish after the seventh one? Will he devour you when you get too close? 

“How do I know you’re not going to eat me or down me or something?” you ask, pushing past the rattle in your throat.

Eclipse chuckles but there’s much less mirth in the echo, and your gut twists within you.

“If I wanted to take a bite out of you, I would have forgone the introductions.” His smile spreads wide. 

A cold, unflinching intuition within you agrees.

“Got it,” you murmur. “Just, uh, no biting, okay?”

He looms over you. His claws take you by the shoulders and hold you tighter to the rock. Your lungs freeze. Your rapid pulse fills your head in the same way you hear ocean waves when you hold a seashell up to your ear. 

“Minnow, do you accept my price?” Eclipse’s thumbs rub circles into your wetsuit.

He did not agree to your no-biting rule. Still, you swallow roughly and try to find some sensibility in agreeing to give a fish man kisses. The dead whale will be gone if Eclipse is true to his word. And it’s only a kiss—seven of them.

You press your lips together and close your eyes.

“I do,” you say. You open them again. “How do you want to do this? All at once or—”

A sharp flick of a tail pushes Eclipse against you. A bleeding blush takes over your face, pinned between him and the rock as he gathers your face in his hands. He holds your gaze, orange eyes blazing like a sunset. Your chest heaves. Water laps up against you as his pinky finger brushes against your throat. 

“Slowly,” he answers, voice lowering into a husky growl, “One by one.”

Your insides bubble at the sight of his teeth. A tumble of your heart knocks into your ribs. He lowers himself closer until you close your eyes. The ocean tugs at both of you but he keeps you firmly in place. His lips touch yours. A taste of something sharp and brackish spills into your mouth and you make a soft sound in the back of your throat. He purrs. The vibration touches you before he gently pushes and pulls against your lips like the tide. He gives and he takes, swallowing your affection. A hungry touch of his tongue swipes the inside of your mouth. You find your hands falling to his shoulders and holding on as if upon a lifesaver, lost out at sea.

Then he unhooks his jaws and frees you. A taste of sea salt remains on your tongue. You gasp softly, realizing how much fresh air you crave after his kiss. Your head falls back against the rock as your lungs heave. He still holds above you, tall and towering, but content.

Eclipse's eyes are half-lidded, gentle in his gaze as his claw gently brushes your bottom lip. His tongue swipes back over his own teeth as if savoring the taste of your flesh.

“Thank you for the kiss,” he rasps. “The whale carcass will be gone come morning light.”

“Okay,” you give, still lost in the salty haze the impression of his mouth left on you, “What about the other kisses?”

“Soon, minnow,” he gives with a sharp grin. “I will call upon you soon.”

He takes you by the hips. You gasp, your hands flying to his arms as he lifts you effortlessly out of the water and sets you back upon the rock. You sit, dripping in your stupor, eyes wide at how easily his palms fit over your waist. He rests his talons on the slick edge. His orange eyes upturn as he smiles one last time.

“Goodbye,” he growls gently. His teeth flash as he slips down, and you catch the full length of his impressive tail and sharp, pointed fins. A sharp flip of his body turns him in an instant, the water bending to his whim, and he slowly swims. The tip of his dorsal carries over the waves until at last, he disappears into the depth.

And you are left sitting with a pink heat in your face and a ghostly tang behind your teeth. His kiss leaves you spellbound.

You have an entirely new problem on your hands.

[writingquestionsanswered]

Hey, I've asked alot of questions here and you answered them which helped me a lot so thank you very much. But I'm here with a question again, which I hope you have an answer or advice of some sort for it.

I'm writing a fantasy book that happens in a world I created. It's like a mix of modern and European medieval times but it tilts more to the medieval times.

I mention flowers in my book alot because it has a lot to do with the characters, themes and plot. Because of this, there are rose, tulips, lilies, etc. But also flowers that I made up like ciris and blur. And It kinda feels weird and wrong.

Real World-Inspired Fictional Setting with Real and Fictional Flora

Nope, it's not wrong! It's actually a pretty common staple of fantasy set in imaginary worlds to include familiar flora and fauna from our world along with completely made up flora and fauna. For example, in A Song of Ice and Fire, we have real world animals like dogs, ravens, horses, cats, and bears, along with extinct or mythical animals from our world, like aurochs, direwolves, and dragons. But there are also completely fictional animals like black and white striped big cats called "shadowcats," bee-sized purple bloodsucking insects called "bloodflies," giant gray whales called "leviathans," and alligator-like lizards called "lizard-lions." By combining familiar, real world creatures (including mythical and extinct) along with wholly fictional creatures, George R.R. Martin was able to bolster the imaginary setting with new flora and fauna to set the world apart from ours, while not overwhelming the reader with a world of completely unfamiliar plants and animals. So, it may feel weird at first but it's definitely not wrong. You're on the right track! ♥

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

I’ve been writing seriously for over 30 years and love to share what I’ve learned. Have a writing question? My inbox is always open!

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[avengers-assemble-fics]

Among the Rubble | Steve x chubby!Reader

Pairing: Steve Rogers x chubby!reader Warnings: blood, scared children, violence, injured reader Summary: The Battle of New York started unexpectedly, especially for (y/n)'s elementary school class. The day was normal, then suddenly, you are tasked with getting 20 five-year-olds to safety with the Chitari attack sending bombs and debris falling everywhere. Good thing Captain America emerges from the rubble to help them get to safety. Word Count: 5.3K Author’s Note: I suck at summaries so hopefully that makes sense. This fic is not beta read, so I'm sure there are probably some grammatical errors and discrepancies I'm too lazy to find right now. I hope you enjoy it none-the-less!

Numerous tables with four chairs tucked beneath, all resting on a purple rug over the dingy gray carpet, each chair filled with elementary school students, all coloring in words on their papers that corresponded to the letter of the alphabet you were currently talking about, W. You knelt by the desk of a sweet but often confused girl, smiling kindly as you pointed to the word “whale” and explained why she should color it as well. She laughed at herself and began curling the Orca whale pink, shooting a warning glance to two boys whispering at the back table, both of who immediately quieted and continued coloring their W words. 

The entire room was mostly silent with the exception of your voice answering questions, the students coloring or changing out crayons, your laptop playing a quiet violin rendition of popular cartoon theme songs, and of course, the busy noise of the outside world as New York City carried on with the hustle and bustle of city life, something you’d learned to ignore, for the most part. You walked over to the window in the corner of the room to glance at the street below once you were satisfied each student was coloring in their last W word. Outside, it was busy, as usual, and you didn’t think you’d ever fully get accustomed to so many people walking on the sidewalks right outside the school. You’d only been in the city for about a year, and there was still so much to learn, especially as you didn’t get out very much. However, you knew enough about the city and its culture to know that the dozens of people running down the sidewalk in the same direction was not a normal thing. 

Shrugging and turning away from the window, you clicked the button in your hand to flip to the next slide word, X, when suddenly, the power in the room went out and the only thing lighting the darkness was the window you’d just been looking out not a moment later. Naturally, the students began getting anxious. Trying to keep them calm, you walked back over to your desk, bumping your hip on a table as you passed, but trying to ignore the pain as you wrenched open the desk drawer, fumbling blindly through the contents until your hand enclosed around what you were looking for. You pulled it from the contents of your desk and clicked the push button on the bottom, immediately the device lighting up. 

Gasps filled the room, and this time, they weren’t of fear. 

“Captain America!” small voices cheered and you sighed in relief. 

The battery-powered Captain America lamp had been expensive and very much an impulse buy you’d regretted almost immediately after you’d bought it, but your students loved it and while you didn’t get “Captain America” out very often (because it was too much of a distraction), it certainly came in handy today. 

“Listen up everyone, we’re all going to very slowly get out of our seats and walk over to the reading mat. Sit criss-cross apple sauce and I’ll tell you guys a story while we wait for the power to come back on,” you spoke in a soothing voice. 

Lit by the luminescent “Captain America” lamp, the 26 students each got up from their seats, most remembering to tuck their seat back under the table before cautiously making their way to the large circular rug with a reading elephant stitched in the fabric. They dropped down to sit on the rug, all crossing their legs as they were told and eagerly waiting for your story. While they were waiting, you grabbed your phone from your desk, checking for any emails from the school principal. Finding none, you assumed the outage was a temporary fluke, nothing to worry about. You walked over to where the students were seated and placed the Captain America lamp up on the bookshelf where they each could see it but no one could touch it (his leg could only be reglued back on so many times, afterall). I dropped into the white rocking chair I typically sat in during story time. 

“Alright, once upon a time, there was two raccoons hanging out in their small house up in the largest tree in the forest. Millie Raccoon was relaxing on the couch while Marvin Raccoon was reading a book at the table. Next door, the Squirrels were making a lot of noise opening their acorns for the winter. Marvin Raccoon paused his reading every time Slyvester or Susan Squirrel-”

Your story was cut off suddenly by the sound of glass shattering an odd, beeping metal ball crashed through the window. Immediately, shrieks and squeals erupted from the kids, many of them jumping up and running to the rocking chair. 

“It’s alright, shhh,” you soothed softly, petting their backs and getting up from their chair to investigate the weird object. 

It had rolled under one of the desks and was now beeping louder and more rapidly, a red light blinking on the top. It didn’t look like anything you’d ever seen, but it didn’t take a genius to figure out what it was as the beeping grew even louder and more constant.

Urgently, you walked back to the students, trying to keep your pace leveled and mask the panic on your face. 

“Alright everyone, it has come time for us to leave. Beth,” you called the little red headed girls attention and she stepped closer, her knees shaking. They knew something was going on. You took the Captain America lamp off the bookshelf and handed it to her. “Hold onto him as we go outside, ok?” 

She nodded, taking the lamp from your hands and holding it close. You hoped the lamp would help ease their fear, but you didn’t have much more time to think about that as the beeping was nearly deafening now. 

“We’re going for an early recess, lets head to the stairwell!” you said, attempting to make your voice as excited as it usually was. 

No one cheered like they usually did. 

Beth with the lamp led the way to the door, you stepped in front of the table with the device under to shield them from it if it went off while they were walking out. Maisy, Beth’s best friend, opened the classroom door and the line of five year olds trickled out quickly, headed for the stairwell that led down to the playground. It seemed the only other class upstairs had the same idea and was taking their students down ahead of yours. Mrs. Turner, an older more seasoned teacher shot you a confused look that you returned with one of panic as you caught up with your students. 

“What’s-” Mrs. Turner didn’t have time to answer before a loud boom resonated from your room, sending a hard shockway through the floor and immediately catching student artwork outside your door on fire. The shockwave knocked several students off their feet, some falling down a few steps and their cries made your heart clench. 

“Something’s going on, and it isn’t good,” was all you could say to a now alarmed Mrs. Turner as you raced down the steps to pick up any fallen student and usher them quickly outside. They didn’t fight you as you herded them out the door. 

Your hopes that outside the building would be safer for the students was quickly dashed across the rocks as you saw chaos and suddenly, the running citizens down the street made sense as building tumbled over, others on fire, loud blasts of guns and bombs all over the place. 

“Ms. (y/n)!” several teary-eyed students shouted fearfully, most of them clumped together, huddling for support. 

This wasn’t a part of your training. None of this was something you ever thought was going to happen, but as you watched the wreckage unfold from all sides, you knew it was your job and duty to protect the kids at all cost. And you would lay down your life for theirs. Anyday. 

“Everyone, head to edge of the building,” I said as calmly as possible as the building next door blew up in flames as some weird alien thing zipping through the air flew away. 

Aliens weren’t real, and yet here they were, shooting down innocent people and blowing up buildings at random. They were merciless. You couldn’t help but wonder when would they turn their eyes on you and the children. 

You met your students by the building and wiped a few of their eyes on the edge of your dress, patting their heads as you huddled them together against the edge of the building, shielding them with your wide frame as best you could. 

“It’s going to be ok,” you soothed softly, hoping someone believed those words, even if that someone was you. 

“Ms. (y/n),” a small, trembling voice said. 

You looked down at Beth, who still held the Captain America lamp clutched in her arms. 

“Is Captain America going to save us?” she whimpered. 

This seemed to catch the attention of a few others, all who turned to look at you with the same hopeful eyes. With the world crashing around them, you didn’t know how to tell them the truth. That this was one small school would catch the eye of any of the superheros circling the town. The best hope you had was that Iron Man’s tech would pick up the presence of little kids and try to steer the aliens away from you. You couldn’t tell them that though. 

“Of course he is! He’s just busy fighting right now, but when he finishes that fight, he’s going to start making his way toward us,” you said, smiling at their faces. 

You could see the hope flash across their faces and that was enough to quiet some of their sobs as they waited for their favorite hero to show up and get them to safety. 

They all huddled back up against the building as you continued your story from earlier to try to distract them. 

“In annoyance, Marvin Raccoon slammed his book closed and scurried down the tree until he could jump over to the Squirrels tree. When he’d climbed up to their house, he knocked loudly on the door, but no one came to it, for the cracking of acorns was far too loud. He-” the story was cut off by a loud black for too close for comfort. Frantically, you grabbed two students that were close to the side of the blast, hauling them away from the edge just as the side exploded where they had been. Rubble crashed full force against you three and you fell to the ground, quickly hauling yourself above the students to protect them as best you could, brick and rock showering your body, your head pounding from where rock as smacked against it and something warm and wet trickled down the side of your face. 

“Ms. (y/n)! Several students shouted. 

You tried to shush them, fearing to alert anything that may have been nearby, but it was too late. Energy blasts began hitting the ground around you and you glanced back to see one of those ugly aliens holding a gun like you’d never seen before, firing in your direction. You hauled yourself up from the ground, ignoring the seering pain in your head as you gather your students around you, pushing them behind you to protect them as the alien grew closer, gun pointed in your direction, and this time, the aim was correct. 

Whatever the cost.

The gun fired and you stared at the blast headed straight for your chest, but it never struck. Instead, a tall man in a sturdy blue uniform wielding a circular shield blocked the path of the blast, the shield deflecting it before he threw the shield and in one swift move, decapitated the alien. 

“Captain America!” you heard several of your students whisper. “He really did come!”

The man in question turned around and your heart jumped naughtily in your chest. He looked just like he had in the 40’s based on the old cards your grandfather had given to you as a child. He must be wearing the same uniform too. 

“Are any of the kids hurt?” he asked, his voice stern but comforting at the samr time. 

You turned to look at them. The two boys you’d pulled from the side of the building before it had blown up had scratches on their arms, but everyone else looked fine. 

“I think they’re all ok,” you said. 

The man before you nodded and urgently strode toward you. 

“There’s shelter in the subways. I’ll get you there. Maybe some of their parents will be there too, most civilians have been taken down now,” he said. 

You nodded, suddenly feeling too overwhelmed to speak as you motioned for your students to follow him. 

He led the way off of school grounds, or what was left of the school, anyway. The trek to the subway was about a mile from the school, which typically wasn’t too far but today, dodging energy blasts from aliens and falling buildings, it felt like an eternity. 

Halfway along the trip, Zach’s foot got stuck in a pile of rubble just as another building was falling nearby. 

“Captain!” you shrieked, grabbing the boy by his shoulders and wrenching his foot from the rubble probably harder than you should have. By now, the super soldier had turned around, headed back to help you. The only thing you could think to do, to get Zach as far from the crash as possible as soon as possible was to throw him. 

“It’s ok, Zach,” you tried to soothe the boy, eyes still on the building that felt like it was falling in slow motion. “You’re gonna be ok,” you promised as you shifted him in your arms, hands against his ribs, bending your elbows for leverage. 

The Captain, who was now walking toward you, appeared confused as to what you were doing. The look quickly disappeared as you threw Zach away from you, sending him airborne in the man’s direction. The boy shrieked at the sudden move and continued yelping as Captain America’s arms closed around him.

“You’re ok,” you could hear him soothe, though you weren’t paying too much attention as pieces from the building had now begun falling. 

“Ms. (y/n)!” several small voices screamed. 

“Get them to the subway!” you begged the Captain as more rubble fell down around you, you dodging them as best you could. 

“No!” several shrieked. 

“Go!” you raised your voice, turning from the building back to the group.

You turned back to watch the building fall to find a heavy cinderblock falling straight toward you. You moved away as qyickly as possible, but you weren’t quick enough. It fell hard against your knee, your other buckling in pain and your body collapsed amongst the rubble. You heard screams from the children and you prayed Captain America would get the safely to the subway. More parts of the building rained down on you, a rock smacking against the side of your head where the brick had hit earlier, reopening the wound to allow more blood to spill down the side of your face, pooling around your eye that was now closed in pain. 

The building was growing closer and closer and there was no hope of getting out of this now. You just hoped it would crush you quickly, as painlessly as possible. You squeezed both eyes shut now, not wanting to watch the building fall on top of you even if you knew it was coming. Your body braced for pain, and you waited. 

You heard horrible screeching of metal on metal, the metallic sound of heavy materials shattering over it, and rock smacking against rock as debris fell around you, none of it hitting you. Slowly, you opened your eyes, fearful it was too early and the building was still falling, but like rain hitting an umbrella, falling around you but never hitting you direction. Shielding you was a man holding a shield over his own head whilst also protecting yours, taking the brunt of the building in a way that would have knocked any normal person off their feet. But he took it and as the final shell of the building fell, a giant mass of metal, his shield dented in the side like it was half-melted butter. He groaned at the weight bearing down on his shoulders and let out a yell as he shoved it to the side away from you both. 

With the last of the building down, the Captain let his shoulders drop, exhaustedly as he turned back to face you, his blue eyes finding yours determinedly. 

“No man left behind,” he panted. 

Painfully, you turned your head in the direction of your class and found them all sobbing, holding onto one another beneath a canopy of a half demolished building. 

“We have to move. Can you walk?” he asked after he’d regained his breath. 

You turned your attention back to him and shifted your injured knee. Pain shot through you but you tried to hide it. 

“I think so,” you gritted out, rolling onto your side slowly as the pain intensified. 

You were shaking, the pain in your knee and head had escalated drastically, so much so you could hardly focus on anything else as you tried to haul yourself onto your good knee. 

“Ok, I’m going to hold onto your left side, put all your weight on me and I’ll pull you up onto your good leg,” the man said, his feet crunching in the rubble as he grew closer. 

“No, you can’t support my weight. I’m too heavy,” you breathed, forcing your bad leg onto your foot and using a raised piece of building to try and push yourself up. 

“Did you not see me just hold up a building. I guarantee you aren’t too heavy,” he argued, his voice closer now. 

You opened your mouth to argue, but your mouth wouldn’t cooperated, too focused on the seering pain shooting through your knee that you were sure at least dislocated. 

“Stubborn,” you heard him hiss and a few seconds later, a muscular arm wrapped itself around your waist and in one swift move, he pulled you to your feet, supporting all of your weight like you weighed nothing. “Now let’s get these kids to the subway, we’ve got about two more blocks,” he said. 

Nodding, you tried to move away, but his arm around your waist held you locked to his side. 

“That knee is no good. You’re not getting anywhere on it. Your options are me supporting this side or me carrying you. You pick,” he spoke sternly and your heart fluttered a little more. 

“Fine,” you bit out, allowing him to support you as you hobbled on one leg over to where the students were standing. When they saw you, they surrounded you both, many small hands reaching out to touch you as if you would disappear if they didn’t. 

“Let’s move,” Captain America said, voice much softer than he’d spoken to you a few minutes earlier and this fact only made your heart stutter more, but you quietened it. This was no place to be fawning over Captain America. 

The rest of the trip down to the subway was mostly uneventful. Captain America had to fight off a few more aliens trying to impede our path, but it was nothing compared to the building earlier. They were handled swiftly and finally, the subway entrance came into view. 

You sent the students down first, quickly wanting them out of the mess that had become New York. As they were headed down, you turned back to survey the situation. Aliens on weird hover crafts were flying in all directions. A giant, green, mass of muscle was throwing cars at them while lightening fried more of them. There was a man on a distant building shooting exploding arrows and a man in a metal suit whizzing through the air shooting the alien things. He seemed to spot the Captain and blew in our direction as the last of the students dipped into the subway. 

“When you’re done playing husband, get her number, then we could really use your help,” the voice of Tony Stark spoke sarcastically. 

“These are the kids from the elementary school. Didn’t think we should have a bunch of kids running around. Now I’ve got to get her down here because she can’t walk,” Captain America shot back. 

Iron Man didn’t have time to respond before more alien creatures began firing in your direction again. He shot blasts at them and took back off to the sky, leading another group away from you. 

“I can make it down the rest on my own,” you ensured the Captain. 

Iron Man was right. The problem was no where close to resolved. 

“No you can’t and like Stark said, I haven’t gotten your number yet.”

You felt your cheeks heat up at the statement but you didn’t have time think about it as he began leaded you down into the subway. 

Walking down the steps was proving to be more difficult than you’d wagered and your other knee was starting to buckle from the brunt of your weight. 

“I’m sorry” you wheezed exhaustedly. 

“It’s ok,” the man said. 

He paused on a step and removed his arm from your waist. Assuming he was letting you go here to get back up to the city, you gripped the railings for support and negotiated with your knees to carry you a little further. You didn’t have time to make them work, however, before they were swept out from under you, an arm bracing your back. You let out an alarmed shriek. 

“Relax. This is easier and your body is too tired to continue. I promise I won’t drop you.”

You wound an arm around his neck to help support yourself as he carried you down the rest of the steps into the vastly overcrowded subway. 

“Where are my kids?” you asked, looking around, growing frantic when you didn’t see them. 

“They’re over here,” the Captain said, walking in the direction he’d seen them. 

You looked away from him to where he was taking you and, sure enough, there they all were huddled against a wall sipping juice boxes with animal crackers around a woman whom you recognized to be one of your students’ parents. Said girl, Maisy, was sitting cradled in her mothers lap. 

“Ms. (y/n)!” a few of your students cheered as they saw you.

Captain America walked you right up to the group and looked around evidently for a wheelchair or something to put you in, but finding nothing, he had no choice but to sit you on the floor. 

“I’ll be fine here. Go save someone else,” you assured him. 

He nodded and gently lowered you down onto the floor, sliding his arms from beneath your legs. At the last moment, you wrapped both arms around his neck and he froze, shocked. You were shocked by what you were doing too, but you couldn’t stop now. 

“Thank you,” you whispered, pressing your lips against his cheek. “Thank you for saving them, saving us.” 

When you let him go, he stood up fully, his cheeks pink and his feet shuffling awkwardly. For a moment, you thought you’d broken him before he turned to leave. 

“You’re welcome,” he said in the same gentle tone he’d used with the kids earlier. 

A moment later, he was gone, back out into the chaos. 

“Are you ok?” the voice of the mother asked. 

You turned around and nodded slowly. 

“Well you look like hell,” she continued, voice light. “Judgment impaired too, you realize you just kissed Captain America, right?” she teased. 

Suddenly the weight of what you’d done brought flames to your cheeks. 

“I can’t believe I did that,” you muttered. 

The mother scoffed and let out a small laugh. 

“You have literally been through hell today. Getting all these kids to safety in the middle of a literal war zone, he was your saving grace who, by the look of it, actually saved your life. It’s totally understandable!” she said. 

You nodded, nerves still settling heavy in your stomach with disbelief. You kissed Captain freaking America! 70 year old man freshly frozen since the 40’s!

“He probably thinks I’m the wackiest woman in the world,” you groaned. 

“Don’t be so hard on yourself! I’m sure he gets that all the time,” she offered. 

Despite her efforts to make you feel better, the feeling in the pit of your stomach only deepend. 

“Ms. (y/n),” the small voice of Beth called your attention and you snapped out of your worries over kissing Captain America to give her your full, undivided attention. 

“Yes sweetheart?”

The girl stood up from the group she had been huddled in. Her hair was now in a maddening tangle of red blossoming from the golden clip she’d been showing off to everyone previously that morning. Her blue and gray dress was now covered in dirt with a few rips up in the fabric. In her arms, she carried the Captain America lamp. It was no longer lit up and looked like it had a few cracks, but it was still in one piece. You smiled at her and held out your arms. She gladly waded through the sea of bodies and sat herself on your lap, clutching the lamp to her body.

“I wanna go home,” she whispered. 

You nodded and pet her tangled hair. You were sure that was all anybody wanted right now. 

~

It felt like hours later when the first responders used the intercom system to tell everyone that the battle was over. The “Avengers” had one, the aliens were gone. We could all come out and go to the hospital or home. By this time, all of your students had been located by their parents, the police had assisted with this and, it was deeply surprising how many parents were in the same subway entrance as you were with your kids. Only a few had to be taken to different entrances by police officers and you’d gotten confirmation that they’d made it. 

Upon the announcement, the crowd began to clear out with a rolling mutter, brave souls venturing to the top to see the mess the city had become, others being put on stretchers to be take to hospitals. You’d already waved off a few paramedics who had come to take you to a hospital. There were other, far more injured people that needed medical help much more than you did. You could always nurse your knee for a few days then go. 

One paramedic had charitably given you a pair of crutches to get around on and as carefully as you could, you hauled yourself up on them to hobble out of the subway and try to get home, if you still had one, that is. 

“All the kids get to their parents ok?” a voice behind you startled you. 

You jumped and dropped one of your crutches before turning around to see who the wise-guy spooking a crippled girl was. You eyes widened when you saw Captain America picking your crutch up off he ground. 

“Sorry, didn’t mean to startle you.”

You shook your head and offered him a small smile, heart accelorating. 

“Were you looking for someone?” you asked, voice coming out shy and timid now that all of the adrenaline had been flushed from your system. 

“Yeah, you,” he said. Your heart jumped. 

“What does Captain America need with me?” you asked, swallowing. 

“Well for starters, it’s Steve, and secondly, I realized I never got your number. Plus what kind of gentleman makes a beautiful woman walk home alone?” he gave you a sweet grin with a half smirk. 

“You really don’t have to do that Cap- Steve, and I’m (y/n).” 

“Oh but I do. You seem stubborn. I bet you weren’t planning on seeing a doctor about that knee until the hospitals cleared out. Am I right?” he asked. 

You just stared at him in shock. 

“I’ll take that as a yes. Well, it’s a good thing I happen to know a good doctor with some homevisit experience,” he said. 

Your jaw slacked, unable to retort. The man before you took that as an excuse to gather you back up in his arms, another small shriek leaving your lips. 

“Hey! I don’t know how things worked in the 40’s, but you can just go around picking girls up! Especially ones that are bound to literally break your back!” you argued, glaring at him. 

“Break my back?” he tossed you up in the air and caught you smoothly in the air as though to prove a point. You yelped and squirmed as he smoothly caught you again. 

“Hey!” 

“Now are you going to tell me where you live or are you going to make me guess? Because I promise, I’m not the best guesser.”

You sighed and crossed your arms over your chest but gave him your address never the less. It wasn’t too far, eight blocks away, but you didn’t like the thought of your body weight baring down on Steve’s shoulders after he literally just saved your life a few hours ago. He didn’t complain though, keeping a steady pace the entire trip until he walked you straight up to your apartment doors (surprisingly, the apartment and most things surrounding were still standing and untouched). 

You unlocked the door while still in his arms and he carried you through the doorway. 

“Nice place,” he said before gently placing you down on the couch and snagging a throw pillow, placing it on the coffee table to elevate your leg. “Dr. Banner should be around later tonight, he has a few things to clean up first,” Steve said. 

You nodded and leaned into the cushions, letting your muscles relax as you slowly felt yourself succumb to the events of the day. 

“Thank you for saving me,” you sniffled. 

He sat down on the couch beside you and took one of your hands in his. 

“I wasn’t going to let you or any of those kids die,” he promised. 

You nodded, hot tears slowly rolling down your cheeks and he caressed your skin, brushing the tears away with his thumb. 

“I know this is horrible timing, emotions are high right now because we just got out of an intense fight, but I was wondering if you maybe wanted to get dinner with me sometime? Or maybe go dancing if we can find somewhere?” he asked. 

Maybe it was your already raw emotions or the shock of the days events, but you found yourself giggling at his question, so much so that he almost looked confused and insecure, afraid you were laughing at him. 

“I promise there are places to dance around here, but I doubt they’d be anything like you’re used to,” you chuckled. 

This brought a smile to his lips. 

“I’d be happy to give it a chance if you’ll give this a chance. Will you?” he asked. 

You thought about it for a moment. A thousand questions were running through your head. Why you? Why now? How was this even possible? But despite all those questions, there was still a small voice in the back of your head saying ‘Captain America will come rescue us,’ and he did, some way, some how, he found us. Now he was finding just you, and that warmed a piece of your heart you thought had been frozen a long time ago. 

“Yes,” you whispered. 

A smile crossed features and he scooted a little closer. 

“How’s Saturday night sound?” he asked. “Assuming you can walk.”

“Sounds perfect,” you replied, leaning closer to him. 

When you kissed his cheek this time, it wasn’t out of shock or delirium and you didn’t immediately regret it. This time, when your lips touched his cheek, you wished it were his lips, but that would come in time. You could be patient because he was worth being patient for.

[moongirldreamer]

I will BEG ON MY KNEES FOR MORE OF YOUR MERMAID AU!!

SIREN!READER X LIGHTHOUSEKEEPER!EDDIE IS MY SOUUULLLLL!!!!!

thank you sm for this ask ughh I'm so glad someone other than irma(@theold-ultraviolence) is a fan of this au 😭😁

Here is Eddie finally finding the source of the never-ending singing. (click for quality)

I wanna talk a little about her design the blue for her tail was inspired by whales, they're all a shade of gray blue or black, so this makes it easy for her to camouflage often her tail is mistaken for a fish only if she intentionally shows herself then people realize what she is.

The redish pinkish lines are jellyfish stings. She lives in the sea so ofc she's run into one or two while not paying attention hehe

And again inspired by whales I put barnacles growing on her titties. I didn't want to do the typical shells or seaweed bra so I thought this was a cooler option. Thinking about it now that probably hurts like hell ahjsksdk.

sweetheart im soooooo sorry it took this long for me to reply but you can tell me if it was worth it or not :) 💕

Tagging some beaties @acrossthesestars @realfernmayo @1800-fight-me

[bcenvs3000f24]

Unit 07: Nature Interpretation through Music

Music and nature have a unique connection, as each finds expression in the other. In nature, we can hear melodies everywhere. Birds sing in varied pitches, winds whistle through leaves, rivers flow in rhythmic pulses, and waves crash in a steady, soothing beat. These natural sounds reflect musical elements like tone, rhythm, and repetition. Animals also use sound to communicate in ways that resemble music. Bird songs, whale calls, and wolf howls are often patterned and convey meaning beyond noise, forming what can be considered music with purpose and emotion. Music-like sounds across species suggest that musicality is embedded in nature's design, connecting us with all living things (Gray, 2001).

Nature's influence on our human music is profound. Landscapes, seasons, and wildlife inspire many songs, symphonies, and compositions. Music also plays a significant role in interpretation, helping people connect with the natural world more deeply. Interpreters use music to convey environmental messages and evoke emotions that inspire action (Beck et al., 2018). Whether it's a folk tune played at a historic exhibit or an "earth tune" teaching children about soil and the food chain, music can create a unique and memorable interpretive experience that brings ecological concepts to life (Beck et al., 2018). Music rooted in natural sounds often evokes profound feelings of tranquillity, joy, or awe, offering a channel through which people can connect emotionally with nature, even if they are physically distant from it. By listening to or creating music inspired by nature, we tap into an ancient relationship, where music serves as a medium for environmental appreciation and conservation.

Music is more than sound, it is a gateway to memory and place. Growing up, I remember my dad playing "Águas de Março" by Tom Jobim on road trips across Portugal. He would hit play as we left Lindoso, and it stayed on repeat, weaving into each twist of the road and shift of the landscape. As a kid it felt like the song narrated our journey through Portugal's mountains, valleys, and coastlines. The drive started in the rugged mountains around Lindoso, where the song's gentle rhythm matched the winding roads and lush, green views. Jobim's refrain, "É pau, é pedra," (it's bread, it's rock) captured the wildness of the mountains, each turn revealing new layers of forest and rock. As we neared the coast, the lyrics about "o fim do caminho" (the end of the road) felt fitting, leading us into golden fields and finally to the Atlantic, where waves crashed to the soft beat of the guitar. Like the setting sun, Jobim's voice was warm and grounding, merging the music with our journey.

Whenever I hear "Águas de Março," I'm instantly transported back to that drive. I can almost see the mountains, feel the coastal breeze, and hear my dad humming along, completely absorbed in the music and scenery. That song has become a map of Portugal for me. This song allows me to reconnect with my memories of the landscapes, showing how deeply nature and music are connected.

References:

Beck, L., Cable, T. T., & Knudson, D. M. (2018). Interpreting Cultural and Natural Heritage. https://sagamore.vitalsource.com/reader/books/9781571678669/pageid/0

Elis Regina - Topic. (2018, October 11). Águas De Março. YouTube. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BnB1G63XvCQ

Gray, P. M. (2001). BIOLOGY AND MUSIC: Enhanced: The Music of Nature and the Nature of Music. Science, 291(5501), 52–54. https://doi.org/10.1126/science.10.1126/science.1056960