#gray wood dock

[elainehill]

Decking New York Picture of a sizable, classic backyard with decking.

[julianaspringer]

Decking New York Picture of a sizable, classic backyard with decking.

[siegetheartist]

Photo of a large traditional backyard landscaping with decking in fall.

A picture of a sizable, conventional backyard with decking taken in the fall.

[elmuchachondesigns]

Wooden Repetitions

Five wood structures on different color maps

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[runningfrom2am]

cold nights // part nineteen

summary: you showed him colours he knows he can't see with anyone else.

pairing: coriolanus snow x fem!reader

wc: 3.3k

masterlists / nav / requests

tags/warnings: tribute!reader and mentor!coriolanus, r is very sweet (too kind for this world. literally.), sunshine x grumpy trope kinda, he falls first, violence typical for the source material, depictions of mental illness, also she's is very smart (as she should), district twelve!reader.

a/n: i'm sorry it took me so long to post this omg i am behind on writing bc i'm so sick but i'm also trying to get ahead on requiem BUT-

Important Announcement!!:

cold nights will officially have a season 3! i wasn't sure but i had a good idea for what the epilogue would be and then i realized it would be so much better as another fully developed idea. so, that will be coming soon!!

my asks are also open to talk about this series! (i do have emoji anons open now too!)

send me any and all of your thoughts! here!

series masterlist // playlist

Coryo smiles as you run up ahead of him, picking up his pace slightly and dropping his bag next to yours.

Some of the others are already stripped down to their bathing suits and running down the dock. It is beautiful here, not that he ever doubted you.

He watches as you peel off your dress, another short one similar to the one you had worn for most of the time he'd known you. This one wasn't sewn in at the middle, so you can slip it quickly over your head. Your bathing suit must have been homemade, too, and it allowed him to see how the bruises and scratches on your back were all but healed while you toss your dress to the ground. He notices quickly that it was exactly the same as Lucy Gray's, maybe your mother had made you matching ones. That's so sweet.

Your skin looked so beautifully soft- just like it should have the first time he saw it, spare for the scars on your calf and your arm, it was just what he imagined.

You kick your shoes off, and the wood of the dock is hot against your bare feet as you run down to the end, diving head-first off to the side to avoid jumping right onto any of your friends.

It seemed to Coryo that you weren't afraid anymore as you briefly looked back at him while you were running. The excited scream you let out when you lept from the dock made his heart flutter. This is exactly what he had wanted, from the very beginning.

When Coryo jumps in behind you, you can hear his shout and feel the water shift around you as his body breaks the surface. You turn under the water, its clarity allowing you to see where everyone is. You loved this. The memories of this lake kept you safe, almost. You can hear muffled laughter above the water, deciding to take your time before coming up for air. You didn't need it just yet.

You swim away from everyone deep under the surface, scanning the lake floor for anything interesting. Really, it was just sticks and rocks and mud, but one day you may find something else exciting, but not today.

"Where is she going?" Coryo comments, watching your body as you kick away deeper under the water.

"Wherever she wants." Lennox answers plainly, treading water as he stares at him.

"She's looking for secrets." Maude Ivory giggles, splashing him in the face. At least she gave him somewhat of an answer.

He quickly lifts an arm to block the wave, but it fails miserably. "What kind of secrets will she find at the bottom of the lake?" He coughs out, wiping the water from his eyes.

"Once we found a watch." Lucy Gray shrugs, looking from him to you. "Which is odd because we didn't know anyone else knew about this place. The secrets are what happens when we aren't here."

You hardly noticed the lack of oxygen until it almost felt too late, quickly swimming up and pushing your hair out of your face so you don't inhale it by mistake.

"Anything good today?" Lucy Gray shouts over to you as soon as she's noticed you've come up.

"There is nothing either good or bad, but thinking makes it so!" You pant, pushing yourself through the water back toward her.

"So, that's a no?" Sejanus asks and you laugh, shaking your head.

"Just rocks and sticks." You explain, joining them again and bumping shoulders with Lucy Gray. "Some weeds, if that's your fancy."

"Oh, yes, that's right up my alley." Sejanus chuckles, cupping his hands to block out the glare of the sun as he looks down into the water anyway.

"I've never been to a lake before," Coryo says, breathing heavily as the waves from the kids splashing keep coming up too close to his face.

"What? Really?" Lucy Gray and Sejanus ask in unison, and you smile at him.

He nods, eyes locking with yours. You feel the need to say something. "Is it everything you dreamt of?" You ask.

"Just about." He grins.

"Oh? What's missing?" You giggle.

Oh, only being able to hold you without retraumatizing you.

"It's not that anything is missing," He comes up with as an excuse. "There's just more birds than I expected."

"Oh, yeah. They like it out here." You hum, looking up at the trees while Lucy Gray whistles out a tune for them to mimic. You smile. "Why, you don't like birds either?"

"Never been the biggest fan, no." He chuckles.

The birds echo her song back to you repeatedly. Coryo turns around to watch as if there was anything to see besides these black birds flitting around the trees and above the cabin. "What kind of birds are they?" He asks. "I've never seen that before."

"We call 'em Mockingjays." Lucy Gray tells him.

"'Cause they'll mock ya if you mess up the song!" Clerk Carmine jumps in, climbing onto Lucy Gray's back under the water.

"Oh, I wouldn't know." Your friend teases him, gripping tight onto the boy's legs as he starts to shout. He knows what's about to happen, and clearly you do too as Coryo watches you and your brother quickly swim out of their reach and closer to him.

You laugh, watching as Lucy Gray takes a big dramatic breath in and sinks under the surface of the water, pulling CC down with her as he screams and splashes.

The sun dried you quickly after you decided you had had enough of the water, climbing back out onto the dock and deciding to just lay your blanket there to dry off on while you took the book and snacks from your bag.

Coryo had been sitting with Lucy Gray and Sejanus, but they were just talking to each other more than him. Not that he could have paid much attention. He was just watching you.

"Can I go talk to her?" He asks with little regard for the conversation that he was interrupting.

They both look over at him. "I mean, you could try. Would that be okay?" Sejanus answers, looking to Lucy Gray for confirmation.

"No. Let her have her peace and quiet." Lennox interrupts as he walks back up in front of them, pulling his shirt back onto his now fully dried skin.

Lucy Gray sighs."Just... Don't be stupid." She advises Coryo, nodding him on. "Len, we'll be right here."

Your brother shakes his head slightly, glaring between the three of them with nothing short of adamant disapproval.

Coryo nods slightly, taking the preferable answer by getting up and heading back down onto the dock.

Lennox looks back over his shoulder to where he just was with Maude Ivory looking for katniss, before taking Coryo's spot on the deck.

"Did she not tell you anything about him?" Lennox mumbles to Lucy Gray, eyes locked on his sister and her 'friend' as he stands over her. "No, she must have- because you were at The Hob last week. You saw it."

"I saw a girl with a lot of unresolved trauma have an episode." Lucy Gray explains, watching Lennox take Coryo's spot next to her. "He made a mistake, but he wouldn't ever hurt her."

Your brother opens his mouth to argue, but Sejanus interrupts. "I know it isn't my place, but Lucy Gray is right. He would sooner die than hurt her."

"Okay, well, explain how he's sitting right next to her when he's already hurt her so bad she may never recover!" Lennox whispers, gesturing to the dock as if they couldn't already see you there.

"I'm not defending anything he's done. That's not what I meant." Sejanus explains. "I just mean he would never do it on purpose."

"Accidents are clearly bad enough."

"Len, he just wants to make amends now." Lucy Gray insists. "And she wants that. I know she does, she's really trying."

"Listen, if it helps..." Sejanus starts, looking back out at you and Coryo on the dock. He can tell how nervous his friend is, watching you intently as he picks at the wood finish beneath him and listening to you talk. "He really loves her. I know it's not my place to tell you that, but it was bad when she was gone. He hardly spoke a word to anyone, he wouldn't put her book down- it was really hard on him. We weren't sure if she had been executed for cheating, and it was killing him to be left in the dark."

"That's not love, that's guilt." Lennox mutters, watching you closely.

"What's the difference between love and guilt?" Lucy Gray asks him rhetorically. "He wouldn't feel guilty if he didn't care."

"The difference is he wouldn't have come here and made the same mistake again."

Lucy Gray bites into her lip, slightly shaking her head. That was an honestly good point.

"I was in the arena, too. I saw what he did." Sejanus says after a moment. "He saved my life, it was my fault. It was shocking... you know, the overkill, but I can't say for certain I wouldn't have done the same thing. We were both pumped so full of adrenaline that I truly believe that's what it was." He explains. "I mean, I was behind him, so I don't know what she saw- but it looked like adrenaline to me."

"How do you think she felt?" Lennox asks, eyes wide. "She was in there for three days! You and him were there for what, ten minutes?"

"Wait..." Lucy Gray backpedals, looking at Sejanus. "Sejanus, what do you mean you thought he was executed for cheating? Like, in the games?"

Sejanus swallows, nodding. He looks over at you but quickly looks away. "Yeah, uh... Coryo told me that she used rat poison to kill two of the others. And he did something to keep the snakes from biting her, but I don't think he was caught for that."

Your brother and best friend look at each other like they'd just seen a ghost before their eyes simultaneously track to you. You were laughing.

"She didn't... She didn't tell me that." Lucy Gray says quietly. "Did you know, Len?"

"No."

"That doesn't surprise me." Sejanus shrugs and they both look at him, shocked and confused. "Well, she doesn't know either. I don't think, definitely not about the snakes, but she told the Dean it was salt. That I gave her." He laughs slightly at the end, but they don't find it funny. "By the time she left, she was fully delusional about it. She knew what it was, Coryo gave it to her to protect herself because he needed her to win. She was really upset by the insinuation that it, in fact, was not salt."

Lucy Gray and Lennox look at each other again, unsure what to say. It must have been worse than they thought. Regardless, they knew it must be eating you alive.

"Can I join you?" You hear Coryo's voice above you after about ten minutes of listening to the mockingjays sing Lucy Gray's song back to her as she sat on the porch of the cabin. The sun was so warm on your skin that you could have fallen asleep here if you weren't reading your book.

You squint against the sun as you look up at him. "Yes, you may." You agree, and you feel him sitting down next to you as the wood creaks below him.

You find yourself holding your breath, even as you return to your book to try and remain relaxed.

He's not going to hurt you.

"What are you reading?" He asks after a moment, thinking your arms must be asleep for using them to hold the book and support your weight for so long.

"It's called 'Much Ado About Nothing'." You answer. "Another Shakespeare piece."

"Do you like it?" He asks, lifting his leg to rest his elbow on his knee while you sit up, crossing your legs and letting the book fall into your lap.

"I do." You smile down at the page. It is much more lighthearted than Romeo and Juliet, as much as you would have loved to come home and drown yourself in your favourite book- the boy next to you unintentionally made it impossible. God, you were so embarrassed by the letter you wrote to him. Your cheeks flush just think about it. All you did by surviving was make everything weird.

"Another tragedy?" He inquires, attempting to read some of the words on the page as it's opened on your lap.

"No." You chuckle, shaking your head. "It's a romantic comedy, actually."

"Oh, wow. You changed it up?" He asks, only somewhat shocked. It would only make sense that you couldn't handle much more tragedy since you've been home.

"I did." You smile. "It's quite funny."

"Will you read me your favourite part?" He suggests, watching your eyes as they light up with excitement from the request.

"Okay, so..." You quickly flip back through the pages and into the first act, scanning for the lines you're looking for. "Okay. Here." You pretend to clear your throat.

"In our last conflict four of his five wits went halting off, and now is the whole man governed with one: so that if he have wit enough to keep himself warm, let him bear it for a difference between himself and his horse; for it is all the wealth that he hath left, to be known a reasonable creature." You recite, dragging your finger along the page so he can track what you are reading. You remembered it, but it might have been easier for him to follow that way.

Coryo watched you the whole time, and by the end, you were a giggling mess. You thought it was absolutely hilarious, and he smiles at that.

"What does that mean?" He chuckles.

"So," You laugh, a hand pressed to your chest. "Basically, she's talking about how she was arguing with Benedick and won. The punchline is that she let him keep one of his wits, because if she didn't no one would be able to tell him from his horse."

Coryo laughs at that, shaking his head. "That is good." He agrees.

"Isn't it?" You smile. "It's a welcome change of pace."

"Yeah, Romeo and Juliet was... yikes." He says, ticking his jaw and peeling up some of the wood from the dock between you.

"You read it?" You ask quietly, eyes widening as you look over at him. It shouldn't shock you, he told you he would, and that he even looked forward to it. "What did you think?"

"Of course I did," Coryo nods. "I really enjoyed it."

"It doesn't seem like it..." You laugh nervously, looking down as you flip back to the page you were on before closing the book.

"No, truly. I did." He insists. "Just... for lack of a better term, it was tragic."

"Yes, well..." You chuckle, shrugging slightly and tucking your book back into the bag next to you.

"It was heartbreaking!" He laughs suddenly. "And that's your favourite?" He looks at you then, head tilted as he slightly shakes his head.

"Okay, so," You laugh, rolling your eyes. You were used to defending this to others who have tried reading it. "That's what makes it so beautiful. It's so touching, they died for each other thinking they were in love, but they also hardly knew each other. It forces you to wonder what could have been, and I like that."

"Okay, well, you're right." Coryo agrees. "I didn't like the ending, but that's the point, I suppose. The rest was good, it reminded me a lot of you."

"I think I forced a bias onto you. My apologies."

"You didn't force anything on me." He smiles, shaking his head. "All I knew is that you loved it, and that made it so much better."

Your cheeks flush as you busy yourself by pulling out the bag of cherries. "Would you like some?" You offer the bag to him and he reaches in, taking just a couple out and popping one into his mouth.

"I finished it all before you left." Coryo tells you, and you hold him out another empty paper bag to spit the pits into.

"That good?" You smile and he nods.

"Can I..." Coryo starts, and you tilt your head at him. He doesn't want to ruin your day by bringing this up. Everything on your face shows hope, even excitement for what he is going to say. "If you can't hear this stop me, but the book made great company in the mentor hall."

For a moment, he saw nervousness flicker behind your eyes, but still, you nodded. You wanted to hear anything he had to say- you just hoped you could stomach it.

"Oh, that's fine. I'm... I'm glad." You try and smile, distracting yourself by popping a cherry into your mouth.

"I was alone most of the time. I didn't go home." He tells you, trying to say what he wanted but still be as vague as possible.

"It must have been so horribly boring." You laugh nervously, swallowing the cherry pit as you reach for another of the small red fruits, picking the stem from it and flicking it into the lake.

"I wish it was." He replies, watching you closely to see if and when he's crossed a line. You nod in understanding, and he takes a nervous breath in. "I... The alternative was that I got sent home like some of my classmates. I wasn't going to leave until I had to."

'Until I had to.'

So he was forced to go in for Sejanus. Why on earth would they not send peacekeepers? Why another child?

"I... I appreciate that." You stammer out, looking down at your lap, noticing for the first time that your hands were trembling. "That must have been uncomfortable. I apologize."

Coryo furrows his brow at you. "No, I'm sorry. Why would you apologize to me?" He asks. "I'm sorry I couldn't do more for you. That I couldn't get you out."

"You did more than you had to." You say, voice quiet with your honesty.

"No." He shakes his head. "I had to do everything I did. I couldn't let you die."

"You saved my life, and... and-" It happens very suddenly when a tear falls down your cheek; you didn't even notice you were starting to panic.

"No, wait, I'm sorry, hey, don't cry..." Coryo says quickly. He wants to help, to do something, but he feels helpless. Again. He feels sick with the knowledge that he always says the wrong thing.

"I'm sorry... I'm sorry..." You mumble, trying to wipe your eyes but you're finding it hard to speak.

"Don't be, please don't be sorry." He pleads with you, shifting so he's kneeling next to you, placing a hand on your back.

You almost jump away, head flying to look at him. He's just rubbing your back. He's only trying to help.

Instinctively, your eyes search for his. They aren't hard to find, and all you can see as you search them is worry. Nothing malicious. "I... Do you want me to get Lucy Gray? Or your brother?" He offers, grabbing your shaking hands in his free one. "Just take deep breaths."

You nod, scared to look away for even a second. So he has to.

Coryo turns back, swallowing his pride. "Lennox! Lucy Gray!" He shouts, drawing their attention quickly.

He accepted the berating he was about to get from your brother before it even came.

"What did you do?" Lennox asks him, forcing himself between the two of you.

"We were just talking and I think I said something- I don't know, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to..." Coryo answers honestly, standing up and taking a step back.

You're watching him, intently, despite Lucy Gray taking over holding you and talking to you in hushed tones, trying to ease your mind.

"I'm okay." You tell her, nodding. You don't look at her, only watching him. Watching his eyes- but nothing changes. Baby blue. Worry. More worry.

taglist: @soulessjourney , @that-veela-girl ,  @dreamyysouls, @rockstarbfs , @maysileeewrites , @baybieruth , @kitscutie ,  @fratboyharrysgf0201 , @totallynotkaibiased , @stelleduarte , @secretsicanthideanymore , @bejeweledreverie , @drewsandsebastianswife , @niicole-87 , @queenofshinigamis , @innercreationflower , @nallasstuff , @iovemoonyy , @thatmarvelchick19 , @wearemadeofstardust0 , @regulusblackcore , @puredreamagination , @fantasticchaosthing , @becauseseaotters , @secretsicanthideanymore

okay suddenly tumblr isn't letting me tag more people than this so i just made some cuts unfortunately :') i just left the max amount of people i could whose users i recognized and see in my notifs all the time :) if you're not on here and you should be i'm so sorry!

also this taglist is closed now!! if you’d like to get a notification when i update, turn on my post notifications!! i promise i won’t spam y'all :,)

[kitmoas]

when the veneer crumbles

the sounds of water are always relaxing

Wanda Maximoff x Reader

Warnings: **18+ MINORS DNI**, SMUT, dark and demonic themes, death, possession, drowning, magic use, Mommy kink

as per usual if there is anything I missed let me know

Author's Note: I'm so sorry this one was late, had a lot of car and financial shit I needed to figure out but I finally got it finished. This was one that i always knew how i wanted it to end, even from last year when i first planned it for the Occult series, but for some reason it was REALLY hard to put my idea into words. Hopefully it's not HORRIBLE, i'm a bit rusty after taking more then a few months off. The rest of them will be better I promise lol

Kitmoas | Necrosis Kitmoas | Navigation

The crickets in the distance are a welcome change to the busy streets of the city, cars honking 

nonstop during your work day. The world you live in is hectic and out of control but the farther you walk into the almost clear empty darkness the more you can feel the control you naively gain. Stepping into the barely touched woods behind the mostly abandoned house was something that you had missed, a childhood memory that had died suddenly. 

Allowing your mind to wander to the summers that you would spend here out on the lake, jumping off the dock, and laughing with your cousins was the welcome peace you needed as you settled along the rickety wood. Even if those fun times were cut short at your aunt’s sudden death, you knew that being here gave you just a moment of your innocence back. 

Stepping onto the rickety wood carefully, you cringe internally as your arm tightens momentarily around the rolled up soft blanket. You should have known better to bring a water proof material but it was too late for that. Knees cracking slightly as you lean down, the smooth fabric flaps in the wind and you sigh softly in relief as you are able to fully settle on the dock. Deciding to stretch out was a bit of a mistake, in your time away you forgot just how soothing the sound of water lapping at the damp wood was. 

Goosebumps spread across your skin as you slowly came to consciousness, brittle wind chilling you to the bone as you rub the sleep out of your eye. The fog is dense, and confusing as it was supposed to be a clear night. Slowly sitting up, your bones crack as you stretch as much as possible without rocking the dock too much. The unstable wood is loud even with the bare minimum movement causing you to flinch as it echoes across the empty field. 

Squinting through the haze, you try to figure out if you can gauge just how late it is by the placement of the moon. The only thing you can see is a weird tunnel out in the middle of the lake, almost like a tornado of gray. Immediate fear isn’t your first thought, though you begin to question just how awake you are. 

Condensation makes the wood wet, slipping as you try to stand up but it's the glowing red orbs in the distance that makes you freeze in your half crouched position. They are captivating even from afar. The air around you is thick, filled with the now red tinted fog that almost looks like it's bleeding. Heavy and molasses-like as it lays on your skin, eyes flickering around you try to make sense of your surroundings. 

When she gets close enough to see smaller details, your brain slows almost to a complete stop. She’s entirely too breathtakingly beautiful and tragically horrific at the same time. No color to her skin, it’s almost as though she comes directly from one of the old black and white television shows your mother liked to watch. The woman is wearing tight clothing, torn and ripped sporadically. Her eyes almost seem so gray that they are an ethereal foggy green, only flashing ruby when the shrap thin lines all over her body pulsate crimson. Her hair is long and dripping with an inky hue, tangled and disheveled. Fingertips dipped in a steaming tar, dancing near her side as she stalks towards you. 

It’s when you can almost reach out and touch the figure that you finally scramble backwards, putting distance between the two of you as the flight side of your instincts kick in. You barely make it more than five steps when you’re being dragged upwards with some sort of red translucent mist. It wraps around your wrists, dragging your arms above your head as you flop about uselessly. Screams are getting caught in your throat as you have to just hang there, watching this being get closer to you. 

When the lady is directly below you, the hair on the back of your neck stands up straight and your muscles twitch from how tense they are. You want to panic, to yell, but something stops you. Tilting her head, she has to look up at you from where her magic holds you against the rough bark. Her hand comes out to touch you, but the soft feeling comes as a surprise to you. She cups your cheek, a low red spreading in her eyes as you shake under her touch. 

She smiles at you, a soft almost nurturing thing. “You’re just as pretty as I thought you would be, little lamb.” Her voice is chilling, breathy with a raspy tone to it. The older woman’s free hand caresses your stomach, an unwanted warmth sinking into your gut. 

Her nails are jagged, cracked and repulsive, as she takes her time to explore your body. It’s sudden, the vigor in which she gropes your body. Clumsy and completely all over the place, you aren’t entirely sure what she thinks she’s doing. Struggling against your restraints, the chill covers your body like ice freezing over a lake. 

It isn’t until your body takes over, fear and anger sinking into your bones, that the creature seemingly gains control of her actions and her hand becomes confident and firm. Nails pointedly scratching at your skin as fingers map out your skin, almost stabbing at each goosebump she finds. Your eyes are glued to your face as your mind struggles to catch up to what you had done, flinching as her other hand reaches up. It doesn’t strike you as you thought it would, instead she brushes the back of her knuckles against her own face, trepidation stopping your blood from rushing through your body as you finally realize that you spit at her. 

That wasn’t what you wanted to do, you knew that you needed to act smart if you were going to survive this but for some reason all your ability to think logically went out the window. You wanted her more than anything in the world right now, and you knew that you needed to try and do anything to keep her exactly where she was. 

“Do you not have control over your stupid little body, mortal?” Her voice is low, almost filled with gravel as she mumbles. Rust filled eyes not even paying you a second of attention but instead staring at the glistening saliva that drips from her fingers. 

Your head is shaking vigorously, denying inability in hopes that she doesn’t see you as foolish. The desire to be praised by her came as a surprise, but you weren’t fighting it and it seems to have worked. A smile slowly stretches across the surreal creature’s face as she blinks slowly. “It’s so funny to see such a useless being believe they are worth anything more than what I deem them to be. You think by answering my question in whatever way you think I want will make the outcome of your situation better?” 

She speaks softly, almost nurturing as she rubs her soaked fingers along your neck, smearing your own spit against you. You crane your neck as much as you can against the crimson smog wrapped there, trying to hear her voice as clearly as possible. 

“I take what I want and no smart mouthed, stupid brained little human is going to stop that. I like to have fun, and the peak is watching you bleed out for me.” The words are harsh but you can’t help but moan as your body is thrown upwards, red tendrils tightening and dragging you to hang limply from the tree branch. It’s devoid of leaves, and creaks under your weight, but it somehow makes you feel like you have a safety net. You had climbed this tree many times in the past, and even had various hanging sets from this very limb. 

Swinging freely, you try to move your body as much as possible as the urge to escape your confines sinks in. Entirely too focused, you don’t realize that her hands are moving along your ice cold skin. Groping softly, her movements are controlled and precise to make sure that you barely register it in your brain. It’s when her hands force your legs apart, maroon vapor ropes slithering around your thighs to hold them open, that you finally realize just how hard you are breathing. Your body felt slightly warm, at least in your core, and you could feel your blood rushing downwards. It was almost like your entire being was electrified and you were entirely too conscious of every single thing you felt. 

She doesn’t take her time, her eyes narrow as she focuses on mapping out your skin. The bright  ruby lines she leaves in her wake only entertain her for so long before she finally moves in between your shaking thighs. The older woman’s finger swipes through your folds, collecting the small amount of wetness she finds there. Gasping as she spreads it across your clit, a throbbing ache despite the way your body revolts. Her jaw mockingly drops when for the first time her eyes light up with amusement, giggling when your hips chase her hand. “Oh poor baby, I can’t fuck you if you’re not wet enough. It’ll hurt your small fragile little body too much and Mommy doesn’t want to hurt you.” 

Your head is shaking violently, nonsensical protests tumbling from your lips. It didn’t matter to you, regardless if it was because you wanted her or wanted the situation to be over with, you just needed her to touch you. Even though your wetness wasn’t enough for her, you did feel aroused. Maybe it was your mind tricking you into believing this was what you wanted or maybe it was the glittering crimson behind your irises, but that wasn’t a piece of information that you needed to know. 

She tuts, chastising you. “Now don’t lie to me. I know what you want even if your mind fights it, and your body hasn’t caught up, I know.” You watch as she takes a step back, letting her eyes drink in your form. Letting the back of her knuckles run down your torso, you watch as she slowly kneels on the damp dirt. Her hands are grazing over your thighs, pushing them farther open as she leans in. The grip she has on you, though gentle, is strong and you can’t kick her when you feel her mouth along your skin. 

The smoothness of her strangely sharp teeth is hot against your cooled body, but it’s the sharp pierce and spilling of your blood that leaves a weirdly chilled warmth leaking down your leg. Eyes widening you try to look past the head of dark locks to see what just happened, but it didn’t take long for your brain to catch up and the stabbing pain on your inner thigh. 

She looks up at you, sparkling light jade eyes catching the moon light, with a toothy smile and a small dribble of crimson running down her chin. “You’re a fucking vampire?” You couldn’t help the shocked yelp, body shaking with fear. 

The being doesn’t even answer you, giggling as rolls her eyes up at you. She seems so innocent in those moments but nothing gets rid of the terror emanating within your soul. Looking back at your bleeding thigh, she swipes her fingers through the thick liquid to coat them. Her nails catch on the open wound, sending another wave of searing pain through your body but she pays no attention to you. 

It almost feels like time stops as you hang there, waiting, but the moment the brunette swipes her crimson dipped thumb across your clit something in your body cracks. It’s small but you can feel the change and in your mind you start screaming at yourself. You know being vocal won’t stop this crazy woman, but you wanted to deter her by being completely unaffected. It was the last thing you had on her, to make her believe that what she was doing was just pure torture and you found absolutely no pleasure in it, but you knew that that power over her was no longer available to you. 

Never one for vanilla sex, not even in theory, you shouldn’t be that surprised that being taken by force from a demonic crazy being would be right up your alley. No one could ever keep up with you, your fantasies were just a bit too intense or a bit too dangerous, and for once everything you ever wanted was being fulfilled. This gorgeous being was forcing her fingers farther into you, your blood dripping randomly down different parts of your body. 

Despite your want for intensely kinky sex, you knew that it should be completely consensual right? It should let you know that, and you could feel your anger rising in your body as the heat zoomed between your thighs. This couldn’t be consensual, not with how it started, but if it wasn’t then why did the idea of her actually stopping tear you up on the inside? You couldn’t fathom the idea of her ice cold thumb pulling away from your throbbing clit for too long, for her touch on your body to not cause goosebumps.  

She doesn’t wait much longer, no need to attempt to please you now that she has the wetness she wants, shoving two fingers into you with almost no remorse. A shrill scream gets stuck in your throat as you choke on the force of air rushing up, the pain bringing tears to your eyes. A sign of weakness that this twisted soul revels in as she thrusts her fingers in, letting her free hand drag up crimson periodically.  

The pain was immense and you were certain that she had to be using something besides her fingers, there was no way that the small hands in between your thighs were causing this much agony. You wanted to shove against her, but the moment her teeth sink into your breast you know you’re gone. Hips jumping, trying to get her to move more as the pleasure starts to settle in your tummy, uselessly against her body. It felt so bad that the good started to come from a delirious state, and you just needed her to move. The tips of her fingers just rubbing slightly against the soft spot inside of you, the texture of her wrinkled skin felt wrong but you were starting to become obsessed. 

“Isn’t it comical? A desperate slut like you thought you had everything together, thought I was going to ruin your life by taking what was destined to be mine?” Through the heavy fog that had begun to settle in your head you tried your best to look down at her, shock painted across your face. How did she know what you were thinking? She doesn’t give you any answer, instead her thrusting gets more aggressive as the wetness between your thighs grows, and it mixes with the blood still heavily leaking from the bite marks. 

You want to moan, whimper, maybe even plead but you were no longer sure what you wanted. Logically you needed this to stop if you were to ever be okay again, but at the same time all you wanted to do was feel her mouth on your clit. You wanted her to fuck you until you were incoherent, a drooling mess. Hatred towards yourself and her fueled your motions as you tried to work to take more of her hand, stretching around her third finger as she shoves it ungracefully into you. 

Her mouth is at your knee now, glowing eyes looking up at you as she smirks. “Taking me so well for someone so against getting used.” Her arm is moving roughly, fingers curling inside you as she ghosts her teeth along your thigh. “So clean, so dry. Why don’t you make a mess for Mommy? I like my cunts all wet and messy.” 

It was then you found your power, despite the arousal burning in your belly and the way you clenched around her fingers whenever she swiped her thumb along your clit. You knew that the more you let your thoughts wonder, even if it had to be forced, that you would be able to pull yourself from the situation. Imagine yourself somewhere else and almost black out during everything, your body would be limp and pliant but not give her what she wants. The movie you would go see in a week with your best friends, or the long list of groceries that you knew you needed to get when you went back into the city. Thoughts swarmed your head as you tried your hardest to ignore the way her fingers poked and prodded, the way her thumb caressed your swollen clit just perfectly. 

Screwing your eyes shut, you make your best attempt at seeming unaffected but you don’t realize that you aren’t winning. If anything you just make it more fun for the being below you, giving her the opportunity to make you as wet as she wants. 

Being so focused on the thoughts traveling through your brain was good until you don’t feel the tugging on your wrists, persistent and firm. It’s only when you’re tumbling helplessly through the air that you realize you are no longer hanging from the tree, but instead falling face first into the freezing lake. It’s a shock, breaking the surface of the water. It knocks the breath out of your lungs and forces your throat to close, you can practically feel all your muscles seize as well. You make the mistake of opening your mouth to scream, causing a rush of dirty water to fill your lungs, and it’s only when her hand claws at the back of your head that you feel even an ounce of relief. 

She’s tearing your body out of the water, pieces of the thin ice fly around you and you can’t believe that you relax as your body collides with her. “Don’t think that you can try to outplay Mommy like that you little slut. I know what you want, you are my destiny. You were made to take me, so be a good girl and let me do what I was made to do.” Her voice is sweet, almost soft, as she speaks through her teeth directly into your ear. It shouldn’t calm your racing heart, neither should the almost warm comforting touch of her red mist along your thighs. 

You want to let yourself fall, the intense arousal is boiling in your tummy and you can feel the coil tightening with each brush of her hand along your body. It would be much easier to allow yourself to become immersed in the pleasure coursing through your body, but it wasn’t until she allowed that crimson fog to slip inside you. Despite the fact that whatever she was pushing into you was magical, you were still too tight for her liking. There was a part of you deep down that still didn’t want this and it was causing your body to react subconsciously. 

‘If the slut doesn’t want to get wet, then I’ll keep you wet myself.” Her hands scratch up your side, a nail digging into your nipple on the way up and it makes your hip buck. You feel yourself melting back into her and a moan softly slips from your parted lips. The urge to pretend that it’s from the cold is strong, but you can’t even pretend at this point like the feeling of her hands on you isn’t turning you on. 

Her hands are running along your torso, teasing your nipples and scratching up your stomach. It almost feels normal, just another hookup and it makes you forget. Losing yourself in the way that the ruby swells inside you, rubbing against the soft spot it finds and caressing your clit softly. 

The wetness between your thighs is gathering the longer she plays with you, wine stained mist thrusting lazily into you. It almost plays with you, knowing that it ruts to hard or fast that it will bring you closer to the edge, but it keeps you writhing for more with each movement. You want to beg for more, ask her to touch you with her own hands as you have begun to crave her ice touch, though there is something that is stopping you from doing that. It isn’t necessarily pride, something you lost the moment you began to get turned on by this aggressive form of twisted affection. 

It’s when her nails scratch at the back of your neck that you realize the fog that’s dragging you slowly, almost mockingly leisurely, towards the edge is growing. Almost like a ball, it feels like she’s pushing her magic abilities to stretch you to the point right before danger. You’re confused, as your wetness starts dripping down your thighs and your breath starts picking up, how much more wet could you get? 

Instant regret floods your system almost as fast as the ice cold water that rushes down your throat as she shoves your face directly into the lake. It’s not a quick dunk to shock you this time, her claw-like hand squishing your face into the almost mud like dirt at the bottom. She doesn’t stop forcing more and more into you, her magical fog swelling larger and it presses against where your torso is now pressed against the ground. Even as you struggle against her, your internal will to try and live kicking in, you can’t help the build up in your stomach. The coil tightens as her magic moves within you, moving inside you as her nails dig into her back. 

Sharp stinging pains are a contrast, an added sensation, to your panic as you begin to think maybe she is just going to keep you submerged. There’s no way she would, right? She wants to use you, there would be no reason that she would want to truly harm you. 

A deep belly chuckle is muffled through the water, barely a vibration as your arm and head flail as much as possible. You wanted out but you can’t help but moan instead of scream, the pleasure of her nails into your shoulder blades and her thigh grinding between your thighs into the swell of mist there beginning to get too overwhelming. It was no longer a fight to survive but a fight to enjoy the last moments of life. Somewhere in your mind you knew that you wouldn’t actually make it out of this alive, but for some reason you’ve decided to ignore that. 

“Such a stupid whore, letting just anyone touch your cunt.” She fists your soaked hair in your hand, and just for a fleeting moment the pain mixed with arousal takes over your fogged mind. “You don’t even know Mommy and yet here you are, taking my gorgeous gift like the good little fuck toy you are.” Her free hand abandons your back in lue of groping your ass, pushing down against it to get you to stop moving. Her thigh is pushing against your throbbing clit now, soaked in your wetness despite water lapping up as you splash about. 

You can feel your vision start to darken, the edges of the burning sensation as you try to keep your eyes open have blurred and blackened. Unsure if you are even panicking anymore, your body starts to relax and the only thing you can focus on is the fuzzy warm arousal filling each nerve in your body. The water floating around you becomes tranquil as each muscle in your body softens and you move with each thrust into you. 

A wide sinister smile stretches unnaturally along the being’s face, pulling her almost gray lips as far as they can as she stares down at your almost lifeless body. She can see the signs and for her it motivates her even more, forcing more and more of her magic into you. You were everything she could have ever wanted and she refused to let you stay in the living world, if she was destined to be stuck to this lake forever then so would you. 

Slowly you could feel all the tension in your body start to clump together in your stomach, draining from the rest of you and tightening around the scarlet orb inside you. You craved that last bit of pleasure, that last rush in your veins to end this for good. 

When it becomes almost impossible to move and you are no longer shaking from panic or exertion, but instead trembling from hanging onto the edge, she knows it’s time. Sneering down at your limp form, she uses her grip in your hair to turn your head. Slapping at your cheek until she can just barely see your fuzzy bloodshot eyes, an almost soft nurturing smile paints along her face once she sees your drunk like state. “There’s my girl. So fucked out.” Her sphere cloud inside you starts to vibrate, her cold dark eyes once more glowing a dim ruby. 

Gripping at your jaw, her claw practically breaks your neck as she forces you to keep eye contact with her. Even as your eyes slip closed, struggling to stay open as you start to dangle over the edge, you can’t help but feel drawn in to listen. “Say my name, little toy, say it and stay with me forever.” Her voice is raspy, bordering soft but she’s taunting you. “You know it, you know you do, so say it. Say it now.” Her actions become frantic, her thigh grinding more aggressively into you. She’s trying to force you into a more pathetic state, even at the edge of death she wants you to be begging for her. 

As much as you can you try to deny knowing, because how could you? You had never seen this person, if that’s what she is even considered, before this horrific situation. The attempt at trying to keep water from going down your throat had stopped, your lungs should have filled completely with liquid by now so some other power must have been keeping you alive. 

Though you couldn’t see it, the being was getting annoyed. Her eyes rolled as she realized that you were thinking again, a brain dead creature who could still think. “Say my name and you can cum for Mommy, like the pretty little whore you are.” She spits at you through her teeth, pointed and your blood drying on the dull shine. With her words she sees a change in your stature, even held under the force of her hand, eagerness. Humming slowly she allows her maroon mist to sink into each part of your body. 

Your brain was almost empty, nothing but serene thoughts going through it as you felt yourself slip into the darkness. You thought that there would be a light at the end of the time but instead you start seeing a faint rosy hue. The being above you is yelling at you and the need to give in is strong, you want to end everything on a high. You need that high. 

Her name slips into the water almost silently, your eyes slipping closed as you fall into unconsciousness, but it’s there. She hears it, muffled, “Wanda.” Usually one of her biggest fears, not one to want to go back to the damned dark world but with you she could thrive. A black magic demon who accomplished its goal? She would rule the world with a scarlet leash around your neck. A small smirk as her magic starts to die, a sure sign she’s going back to being contained. Until the end of time you will be her needy little toy, just as you were as you took your last breath. 

[juniefruit]

♤ Shoreline Serenade ♤

♤ Merman! Seungmin x gn! reader

♤ Summary: A tale as old as time, mer-people have been rumored to populate the ocean waters of your coastal town. When one of these mer-people frequents the same dock as you, you're bound to meet eventually.

♤ Warnings: perspective switches, dead fish (lol), seungmin has trauma, mentions of mates, I suck at endings, semi-proofread

♤ Word count: ~5k

The cool salty air hits your nostrils as the ocean breeze travels inward. Even the flock of seagulls glide against the breeze above you, their wings flashing as they squawk and screech. Aegean colored waves crash against the sand, littered with driftwood and reeds washed ashore. Your hair, wind-battered, sweeps against your face before you push it back behind your ears. It’s a serene but apprehensive feeling; no one else would bother to go out during this stormy weather. It felt like something was coming- but you couldn’t tell what. The gray storm clouds rumble above the infinite expanse of the ocean, casting ominous shadows above the water, lines of seafoam dotting the cresting waves. You stumble over your feet as you transition from the sand to the weathered wood of the dock. Barnacles and moss cling to the sides, a testament to the longevity of the dock. The wood creaks as you leisurely walk out into the ocean, the wind battering against your side, as if it was yelling at you to turn around and walk the other way. But you persisted. The smaller waves hit the support beams of the dock with a wet smack, making your reflection against the water distorted and shaky when you look down. 

You had originally come to the beach to wind down- Just some time alone without coworkers breathing down your neck about deadlines. You found solace in your time alone, putting one foot infront of the other until you find the end of the dock.

A sudden splash differs from the sounds of the turbulent waves. You whip your head to the left, only to see foamy bubbles where the disturbance occurred. Squinting, you lock your eyes onto that spot on the surface of the water. It could have been a seal or a dolphin; they frequent the area. 

But dolphins don’t have scales. 

This thing does. 

It broke the surface a second time, dorsal fin jutting out of the water in a graceful arch before sinking below the surface. The tail followed, shimmering against the dull water it splashed against. You had grown up with the old wive’s tale of mer-people patrolling this coastline, but it had never crossed your mind that something really could be out there. Coming as close to the edge of the dock as you can, feet nearly moments from sliding off, you scan the surface one more time. Nothing. 

Seungmin watched from the opposite side of the dock, only his eyes visible above the waves. He had dove under and swam across when you heard him, teasing you. A slight smirk graced his face as he watched your confusion, quite enjoying his little game. His tail twitched in excitement as he tread the wild waves. You were one of his prettier visitors, he realized, as he watched from the water. Brave enough not to run for the hills when you had seen a merman, at least. He liked that.

An idea crossed his mind. His smirk grew into a sinister grin. Diving below the surface without a sound, he reached out with his clawed hands and cut a long piece of kelp from a frond, swaying in the current. His powerful tail propelled him back to the surface, where your back was still turned, seemingly staring off into the gray and darkening horizon, pondering who knows what. Seungmin had to clamp his mouth shut before he let out a giggle at his prank. He brough the piece of kelp up to the surface, bracing his arm muscles and gripping the slippery sea plant. In one quick moment, he heaved the kelp up and over him before it landed forcefully right behind you. Immediately after the throw, Seungmin dashed back into the depths below. His head bobbed back up to the surface under the space below the dock, out of your view. 

A sudden loud and heavy slap snapped you out of your thoughts. You had yelped on instinct, jumping with surprise. Turning around in a flash, you scanned the water before your eyes found the strand of kelp at your feet, dripping salt water onto the wood. What the-? 

That hadn’t been there when you arrived. The gears in your head were redlining; running at top speeds. You whipped around and spun in a circle, trying to see the place where the kelp could have come from. Physics can’t explain this one. It was just an ordinary piece of kelp, it seemed. You think to yourself; how did it defy gravity and make it onto the dock? Also, the end of the strand looked shredded- as if something had ripped it off. 

Dolphins don’t have scales.

Dolphins don’t have claws, either. 

Your mind and body froze with the realization. Your breathing froze. 

Your heart beats rapidly, screaming at you to leave, but your feet stay put. 

Seungmin holds his breath as he carefully listens for any movement. He can only see small slivers of your body through the cracks in the wood. His heart races, too. He wonders what you’ll do next. He relishes in the feeling. Lately, life hasn’t been too thrilling for the siren. Spooking humans, hunting, scavenging, sleeping. That’s about it. His trove of sea treasures grows by the day, as he’s pushed further out of his territory to find anything he’d deem worthy. Maybe one day, he’ll have a mate to impress. He likes to think that he’d be a good mate; he’d hunt, he’d love, and he’d care. Hope spurs him on to collect various shells, corals, and shiny glass bottles. Seungmin remains under the dock, subconsiously holding his breath until he hears your footsteps fade completely. He went to sleep in his underwater den after that, thoughts of the human girl keeping him awake longer than usual.

A loud boom of thunder snapped you out of it. You turn back towards the shoreline, droplets of rain slowly starting to accumulate around you. Your feet move of their own accord, bee-lining it to the sandy beach. Not even looking back to see if the kelp was still there, you walk home, a sinking feeling in your chest, and wet with rain. It could be friendly, you thought. There were definitely some openings where the thing could have snatched you and ate you for dinner. You now mulled it over on your couch, changed into comfy pajamas and nursing a warm mug of tea. The pitter-patter of the evening rain can be heard on your roof. Was it… toying with me? You established that it had to be the mer-creature that threw the kelp up onto the dock. You’re just thankful it had chosen peace.

The next day after work, you stop by the outdoor market for some seafood. Again, the seagulls squealed overhead and salesmen were making bargains. The sky was clear today, so the sun shone through the colorful fabric stretched over the produce on display, casting everything and everyone into colorful arrangements. You had figured that, in order to thank the siren for sparing your life, you’d gift them with a fish; if they even showed up tonight. You pick something about the size of your forearm, now wrapped in old newspaper and chucked into your shopping tote. The rugged fisherman from the stall was a little askew, sitting on his stool smoking a pipe. His tattooed arm picked at the scar that ran along the left side of his face, as he counted your cash with the other. The last booth before you left sold jewelry of all shapes and sizes, bedazzled with jewels, gems, and pearls cast in silver and gold. You stopped in your tracks upon seeing the mermaid-shaped pendant dangling from a display, eyeing the craftsmanship. 

“Like anything you see?” A raspy but sweet voice sounded from the shadowy corner of the booth. Someone’s grandma, with long gray hair, a wrinkled smile, and a simple dress. 

“This necklace caught my attention,” You mutter. 

“Ah,” The shopkeeper replies, “You know of the stories from this town. When the fishermen complain about a pitiful catch, they blame the mer-people.” She rolls her eyes with a huff. 

“Oh, I’m aware of the stories.” You respond before making your way to your car and heading home. How ironic, you think. 

When the sun was just about under the horizon, you ventured out of your house to begin the walk to the little strip of sand where the dock was; newspaper-clad fish in hand. The setting sun casts a sliver of orange over the horizon of the ocean that fades into deep purples and eventually the darkness of the night sky, the first stars beginning to make their appearance. The wooden stairs creak as your shoes make contact, eventually stepping up onto the dock. Your heart pattered in your chest with anticipation for no apparent reason. This whole thing is stupid anyway… you thought. You could hear the waves hitting the dock beams before you could see them; just barely visibly under the diminishing sunlight. When you reach the edge, you sit down with your feet dangling above the water. Taking a deep breath, you calm your nerves. 

Seungmin was patrolling the area of water where the dock is located. He was near the seabed, sifting through the various rocks and empty shells and debris to see if he liked anything. He couldn’t sleep, anyway. He stopped near the base of one of the dock’s beams when he felt a vibration coming from it. It had the rhythm of footsteps; he’s learned how to recognize them. His ears perked up and his tail swished in curiosity. Stealthily making his way to the surface, his head broke the surface of the water under the planks of the dock. He recognized your shoes from the other night. He felt giddy at the fact that you came back, even after his little stunt. His ears twitched at the sound of paper crinkling, followed by the pungent smell of raw fish. His favorite kind, too. Were you luring him? What were you going to do? He’s not gullible enough to be captured, but that fish… 

Seungmin dove under and swam far enough away from the dock where he could see your form sitting on the edge, limp fish in hand and feet swaying gently. In that moment he sensed it; you weren’t going to hurt him. 

You didn’t think this through all the way. What now? You thought. The fish was cold and a shiver ran through you, but you couldn’t tell if it was from the chill of the ocean wind or the texture of the fish. Looking back up to the waves, they get smaller and turn into faint lines as they near the horizon. In a sudden moment, something as bright as the moon in the starry sky appears on the surface. Two things, actually. They shone like A-grade pearls in the moonlight. And then they blinked. Your eyes had to adjust to the sudden shine against the water befre you noticed the damp, ebony hair above the orbs. You held your breath subconsciously. 

“Um… Here. I got you this.” You lean forward and extend the hand holding the fish, gripping it tightly. The other hand gripped the edge of the dock, splintered wood rough against your palm. The reflective eyes only blinked back at you, before vanishing again. A few seconds pass, and they reappear. But closer. So close, you could make out the shape of the creatures. Face. A beautifully sloped nose and delicate lips. His eyes were round and curious, black bangs sitting messily above them. It was too dark to see the rest of him under the surface, only the silver reflection of the moon visible on the rippling waves. You held eye contact without a single word, your breath too shallow to make any noise. You shake the fish once, reminding him of its presence. His eyes tore away from yours, inspecting it once. The water in front of him parted and splashed, revealing fish-like scales littering his forearms. His hands had membranous webs between the fingers that led up to pointy claws replacing fingernails. He reached his hands up to grasp the fish with both appendages, keeping eye contact with you as he did so. His claws dug into the sides of the fish you weren’t holding, and he slid it out of your hand. His eyes were mesmerising, and you found yourself feeling hypnotized by their beautiful reflective nature in the moonlight. You could see every color of the rainbow, just like you would with a pearl, but his pupils were still visible. He took shallow breaths through his nose, but you could tell it wasn’t his preferred method of breathing. Three gill flaps lined the sides of his neck, adorned with a few stray scales. Every other wave would dip and reveal the nape of his neck and collarbones, elegant in the way they curved and rested against his body. 

Seungmin brought the fish closer to himself, sniffed it, and the faintest smile graced his lips. It was so miniscule, you wouldn’t have noticed if you weren’t observing him so closely, with eyes wide as saucers. He nodded once as a thank you before dipping under the waves. As he vanished, you caught a glimpse of his dorsal fin; pointy spikes joined together with the same webs as his hands. His scales seemed to be reflective also, shining as they passed. Lastly his tail breached the surface, completely covered in scales and a fin that tapered off towards the end, before it fanned out into a gorgeous display of shimmery caudal fin membrane. 

He had to leave. You had attempted a courtship ritual, albeit unknowingly. Seungmin’s cheeks felt flushed and hot, even under the cool salt water. His heart beat fast as he looked at the fish in his hands. His rational mind screamed at him to just eat and be done with it, that you had no other intentions other than kindness. But his instincts, oh, a part of him raved at how someone, half-fish or not, had given him an offering. An offering to become mates, to be exact. Now, you had no idea that the fish at the market, the one with silver scales and yellow stripes, had any sort of meaning. And it also didn’t help that your eyes, so gentle and fond, had stared right at him as you presented the fish. Although you were human, Seungmin sensed your sympathy; the feeling that you understand him. It flustered him a second time, shaking his head to rid himself of the thoughts. At that moment, Seungmin’s eyes landed on the glint of a seashell on the ocean floor in front of him. He swam over to inspect it. It was a classic- hues of brown, orange and pink swirled together. A conch shell. His heart was thumping against his chest when he boldly decided– he'd give it to you someday. Now in his den, he looked over his collection. Finally, he had someone to share his treasures with. Like a curator at a fine museum, he inspected his pieces, scoping out what he thought you’d like.

Your work life suddenly wasn’t so bad when you had something new and exciting waiting for you once you clock out. The merman’s eyes haunted your thoughts and daydreams at your desk- and those turquoise scales that reflected off the moonlight- you hope you’d get to see them again. For the past week, you had been stopping by, like clockwork, to check on the merman. He wasn’t very talkative, but that’s fair, you thought. Over the course of two weeks, you had learned his name, Seungmin, and that he lived in a den made from a cave on the ocean floor. He learned some things about you, too. He learned that you loved your job, but too much of anything is never good, you said, and you had a pet fish, lovingly named Toast. Each day you met, he brought you a gift. The first day, it was a crystalline shard of blue glass from a bottle. The next, a perfectly intact sand dollar. And so on. His webbed hands held the items with such care, and his eyes held so much emotion, you could practically feel how much this meant to him. And the days went by. The windowsill in your bedroom was beginning to look crowded. 

One evening, he didn’t break the surface of the water. You waited for him until the moon was high above your head before deciding it was time to go. Perhaps he was busy, or he finally got bored of your little meetups. You didn’t sleep that night, opting to overthink, as saline tears threatened to spill over your cheeks. In reality, a long chunk of fishing line was stuck and tangled against a boulder on the seafloor when Seungmin hadn’t seen it drifting with the tide and got himself tangled too. So there he stayed, working at the knots and chewing through the hard plastic fishing line all evening and night. He thought about you, feet still swinging against the dock, waiting for him. But he didn’t come. It was only in the wee hours of the morning that he had managed to get at least some of it untangled, the part on his arm still intact. He was tired and hungry by the end of it, and the azure water surrounding him whisked away the tears that fell from his beautiful eyes, now red and puffy.

The next day, Seungmin waited in hopes that you’d forgive him. The waves pulsed and splashed against the nape of his next as he peered down the dock, not a soul in sight. He grew worried, blaming himself for the confusion. He glanced down at the fishing line wrapped tightly around his arm, cutting into his skin. He grasped his gift, a cone snail shell with his other hand, a shred of hope that he would feel the thumps of your shoes against the wood. This time, he felt a few stray tears slide down his cheeks as the chilly night wind hit his face. You didn’t come to the dock. Your higher-up had forced you to stay overtime for a project that you already did your due diligence on. Frustrated and tired, you were at the office until midnight before driving home in utter silence and passing out in your bed immediately.

Today, the sky was clear- a pristine blue dotted with fleeting white clouds. The local seagulls squawked with delight at the perfect flying conditions- a light breeze drifting in from the vast ocean. After work, you had stopped by the market to grab the usual- the fisherman had you memorized at this point. At your cozy beach house, you waited and waited- waited for the sky to turn orange and for the sun to touch the horizon. The anticipation was killing you. By sunset, you began the walk to the shore. You had the path to the dock memorized. The sounds of the crashing waves getting louder as you neared it, making it to the dock in record time. The bottoms of your shoes thumping against the weathered wood of the dock now.

Seungmin was pacing beneath the dock, gills working overtime. He had decided that today, in a show of gratitude and apology, he would give you the special conch shell he had found. If you showed up, that is. He grasped the shell in both hands out of nervousness. There it was. The rhythmic beat of your footsteps. A flash of nervousness swam from the crown of his head to the tip of his tail before he propelled himself up and in front of the dock. When your footsteps stopped, he knew that you had taken your seat at the very edge. He poked the top of his head out of the water, exposing just his eyes above the surface to hide the blush on his cheeks. The water felt cool to the heat on his face. Seungmin was in awe- you were so beautiful that he felt like a pirate hypnotized by a siren’s song- quite ironic. An innate attraction that left him reeling, itching to be close to you- to reach out and touch you, your hair, your skin, your lips- anything. But he controlled himself. 

When you spotted him, your eyes lit up with excitement. Your smile grew until your cheeks were round and a line formed under your eyes. With an exhale of relief, you spoke to him.

“It’s nice to see you again.” You said, with such care, worried that even the tone of your voice might scare him off. Seungmin nodded in agreement. He didn’t quite think this through- when should he give you the shell? His mind was racing, until your voice, like dripping honey, soothed him. 

“I brought you another fish,” You smiled shyly. He nodded again in thanks, too shy to reveal the rest of his face. But you didn’t mind. In fact, the golden glow of the evening sun made you look ethereal- just as pretty as a real mermaid. 

“I’m sorry for not coming yesterday.” You spoke, breaking him free from his thoughts. Your eyebrows were scrunched in worry, head tilted down. His eyes widened in disbelief; he had concerned you. He shook his head vigorously, with his eyes squeezed shut, gathering courage. He pushed and treaded the water with ease so that he could expose the lower half of his face, all the way to his chest. The evening breeze caught on his wet skin and he nearly shivered. With a deep breath in, his hands rose above the water, the shell in his palms, and the fishing line tangled around his forearm.

Water ran down his arms and glistened against his smooth skin, dotted with scaled patches as he lifted them out of the water. But panic flashed across your face as you noticed the fishing line, dangerously close to drawing blood. The skin around it was rubbed raw, the usually bright and vibrant scales muted and dull. 

“For you.” He spoke lightly, his eyes cautious, locked on yours. You looked down at the shell, then back to him. You pointed at yourself and he had to hold back his eye roll. 

“Me?”

“Yes.” He nodded curtly. He saw the way a dusty pink blush formed on your cheeks. His voice was like nothing you’ve ever heard before; smooth and unique in a way that fit him perfectly. 

“It’s beautiful,” You exclaimed with a whisper. Suddenly, you got up, placed Seungmin’s fish down, and a stern look crossed your face. “Stay right here.” You ordered, and then dashed down the dock. He didn’t even have a moment to reply. You ran all the way home, and ransacked your kitchen drawers for your pocket knife. You were panting when you came back, seungmin’s head bobbing above the surface. You sat back down with a huff, and patted the space next to you with your free hand amidst your flustered state. “Come sit.”

“You’re not scared of me?” Seungmin asked with a confused lilt in his voice. You shook your head, not one bit, if the last few weeks were any proof. The fondness in his heart for you grew instantly. With a deep inhale, he swam towards you, placed the shell on the wood, grabbed the edge with arm muscles flexed, and lurched his body forward with the powerful muscles of his tail; dripping saltwater as he went. He winced when the fishing line dug just a bit deeper at the strain of his muscles. You took note of the rippling muscles of his toned stomach, that lead right down below his belly button and faded into the scales of his tail. They really were just like the stories, you realized. He spun around to sit next to you, his smooth skin slightly pearlescent. His tail was infinite shades of turquoise- greens and blues cascading down and swishing against the edge of the dock. With just a look, you convinced him to place his hands in yours, and you got to work on the fishing line. You held him gently, eyebrows scrunched in concentration, trying your hardest not to hurt him any more. If it did hurt, he didn’t make a sound. Because of your proximity, he noticed the tiredness in your eyes. He could sense the exhaustion, and felt even more gratitude for such a kind human. He could smell your sweet scent too, the nape of your neck beckoning him to lean in close until all his senses were overwhelmed with you, you, you. 

After Seungmin was free, you pocketed the fishing line. He was holding the shell again, waiting for your decision- accept or reject his gift. He really hoped it was the first, or he’d just made a fool out of himself. His nerves were killing him- and so was your silence. When your hand gingerly stretched out to take the shell, he had to will himself to stay still. He had never been this close to you before. He was scared, he was nervous, and yet, he needed more of it. Were all humans this addictive? Surely not, for that one time a year ago when he got caught in a fishing net, he did not feel anything but fear for the creepy old fisherman whom he had to claw, scratch and bite his way out from to get back to the water. He remembers the way the man’s rough and calloused hands felt like sandpaper as they tried to grab his wrists and pin him. When his eyes refocused on your face, he saw no evil. He saw unspoken trust. The tips of your fingers grazed his, and he gasped lightly. You inspected it with, turning it in the palms of your hands.

You smiled wide. Seungmin felt the weight of a whale lift from his chest. He has elated that you accepted his gift. 

“How did you find it?” You asked with curious eyes. He simply shrugged his shoulders. He tried not to glance at the fish, still wrapped and on your lap, but he had postponed dinner. His eyes deceived him. 

“Oh! Here, it’s all yours.” You set the shell aside in favor of unwrapping the fish. You gesture it towards him, but you notice the rather bashful blush on his ears and cheeks, contrasting the turquoise hues of the scales on his neck. The redness on his arm from the fishing line was slowly fading, too. “What, is it some kind of special fish?” You can’t help but smile. You set it down behind you. He’s too precious, you thought. Where was the teasing boy that had pranked you with the kelp that day?

“S- sort of. In my world, it means- that you… wanttobemymate.”  He said the words in a jumble, embarrassed that he had to explain his own customs. 

“Your… mate? And you never bothered to tell me?” You asked with a strained voice. He whined at your words, squirming slightly in his spot.

“Yes, and well, it might not even be possible anyway-” He explained.

“What would you do if I was?” You asked, not really thinking ahead of your word choice. 

Seungmin froze. His eyes were round in disbelief.

“Uh-”

“Oh my god! What am I saying? Stupid!” You cover your face with your hands in embarrassment. “I’m sorry, why did I say tha-” Seungmin’s webbed hand wrapped around your wrist, stopping your rambling. He made sure his claws did not pierce you. His grasp was firm and comforting, albeit a bit cold. You lifted your head in confusion.

“You’re not stupid,” He’s staring deeply into your eyes now. “You didn’t know, it’s okay.” He consoles you, in a tone he prayed sounded somewhat reassuring. 

Seungmin’s thumb gently stroked your wrist for comfort. “I mean- I had no idea! I don’t want to give you false hope, or- or make you uncomfortable, and-” You spoke frantically, then took a deep breath in. “I don’t want to stop seeing you,” You confessed.

“Then don’t.” He stated. He leaned in closer, mystical eyes locked with yours. “Every day, I can’t wait to see you. I think about you first thing in the morning, and when I go to bed, and when I hunt, or when I’m looking for treasure, I think, ‘would y/n like this one?’. You make my days better. Please don’t say things like that, please don’t go.” Seungmin picked up the hand that he was using to lean on, and cupped your jaw gingerly in his palm. The warmth from your cheeks replaced the coldness from his palm. “So long as this dock is still standing, I will be here every night, awaiting you. Mate or not.” The nonchalant merman you had grown to know was spilling his heart out, and instinctively, you lean closer to press your forehead against his. His hand moved from your jaw to the nape of your neck, taking the strand of hair that was in his way and moving it to the side. You loosed a breath with a relieved smile, as a faint smile graced his lips as well. And there you stayed, as the sun descended and pulled the night sky down with it, stars twinkling against the darkness. The moon shone its pearlescent light down upon you, until you fell asleep against Seungmin’s shoulder, his arm wrapped around your back.

~~~~~~~~~~

Thanks for reading! Check my masterlist for more!

Warning: Everything I post is 100% my original writing & thoughts. This also includes the moodboards at the beginning, that I create. Please do not plagiarize or copy. Tag for inspiration or add-ons. Reblogs are appreciated! <3

[evidenceof]

scrunch for the kiss prompt!

thank you for the prompt, gigi! <3 been thinking about sunburnt dick winters after seeing this gq china editorial and it has led to this.

[ scrunch ] for a kiss on the nose

sunburn From behind Dick’s eyelids, the sunlight is pink. The underside of his arms feels cool against the outstretched dock, lying down with his palms up. He listens to the small waves lap against rock. It was easy to forget things in Austria—whether that was time, or the fact that they were still well within war-torn Europe. “You burn easily, you know that?” “Didn’t think you’d be awake, Nix.” With one eye open, Dick watches his friend slink down beside him, limbs heavy, scuffed jump boots thudding against dock. “It’d do you some good not to think of me too much.” Nix leans back, looking at Dick from above with a grin on his face. “Besides, 0900 isn’t that early.”

“Give it up, Nix. It can’t be later than 0800.” Dick’s lips hook down into an unhappy twist. He couldn’t have been plastered on the dock for anything more than thirty minutes ever since he made his way down at 0600. In response, Nix’s hand reaches forward, his arm casting a shadow where it hovered over Dick's body, and down towards Dick’s waist. “What—“ “When have I ever lied to you, Major Winters?” Nix’s hand is cold when it wraps itself around Dick’s wrist before lifting it upwards. He lets his friend’s eyes adjust to the watch hands that read 0910. Nix grunts, satisfied that he's made his point. He touches the tip of Dick’s nose with his finger and listens as he hisses loudly at the contact. “You’ve been soaking up every sun ray for a good hour and a half.” “Oh for crying out loud.” When Dick attempts to sit up, a jolt of searing pain drags across the skin of his stomach, forcing him back down. Above him Nixon laughs, loud and amused. After Varsity and the Dear John, Dick can't help laughing with him. War is beginning to slip off Nix’s shoulders, and Dick sees it on the fast fading smudges of purplish gray under his friend’s eyes, and in the way Nix lingers by the foot of Dick’s bed, talking well into the late hours of the morning until he falls asleep on varnished wood. Whenever he does, Dick doesn't know why he forces himself to stay awake a little bit longer, biding time just to watch how Nix breathes. “Don’t hurt yourself.” Nix grins and hooks a finger to slip off the aviators sitting on the edge of his nose. He flips them upside down and slides the sunglasses on to Dick’s face, gently hooking them behind his ears. “Can’t let Sink’s most promising career die of sun poisoning.” Nix bends down to adjust the aviators still a bit skewed on Dick’s face. From behind the tinted glasses, Dick sees how Nix’s smile doesn't quite reach his eyes. Suddenly all of it feels like a goodbye. The sunburn is ignored when Dick lifts his neck up and plants a kiss on the tip of Nix’s unscathed nose. “Well it’s a good thing I told him I won’t be staying.” Dick lowers his head back down, watching Nix blink in disbelief, eyes staring now at Dick’s lips. “That job offer still open?”  It takes two beats of stunned silence before Nix responds, “What? Fuck, Dick. Of course it is.” “All right. Then take me to New Jersey.”  “And Chicago,” is what Nixon says like a sigh before he ducks down, tenting his jacket above them both as a cover. In the shade, he kisses Dick’s nose, his lips. Dick doesn't have to see it, but he knows Nix's eyes are smiling.

my winnix kiss prompt drabbles

[gimmethatagustd]

Hi Jaiiii 💕💕 So I wasn't going to send a spooky drabble request since I'm usually super bad at coming up with ideas and you're already writing my one and only wish - weird fairy outfit Jungkook - but theeeen something came over me and I may have made a moodboard...

To me this is giving siren! jimin x human! taehyung but you can totally take whatever element that inspires you from it and do your own thing!! Fluff, smut, angst, you know I'm always open to reading anything from you, so go wild. I hope this gives you something to work with because I had fun making it! Love youuu 💞💞💞

the wind speaks | kth + pjm

Something's living under the dock at the Kim family's beach house.

○ Pairing: Human!Taehyung x Siren!Jimin

○ Rating: Mature/18+

○ Genre: Supernatural, "friends" to "lovers", angst, yandere

○ 2 / 100 Drabble Challenge (Mermaid)

○ Word Count: 2,313

○ Warnings: Emotional manipulation, Jimin is supernaturally alluring so that makes the whole thing very questionable, potential drowning and major character death? perhaps? 👀 it's an ambiguous ending so who knows!

○ Notes: Hi Ivi bby, I hope you didn't think I forgot about your AMAZING moodboard 🥹 I really need to commission you to make all my moodboards for me cuz I'm seriously obsessed with this one. It gave me so many ideas and it fit perfectly with my 100 Drabble Challenge. I hope you like what I've come up with, even tho it's a lil bit intense jhskjdfs 💜 ily

○ Post Date: January 4, 2024

○ Masterlist | Send me ur thots

○ What was Jai listening to? A spooky siren Spotify playlist

“Taehyung-ah! You have two hours before dinner, okay?” 

“Yes, eomma!” 

“Don’t make me have to come find you!” 

“Yes, eomma!” Taehyung calls out before closing the sliding glass door to their deck. 

The Kim family beach house sits just behind the sand dunes separating the beach from the homes lining the streets of their quiet town. The homes are nothing special, just boxy buildings with large windows built on high foundations to protect from flooding. The residents’ real treasures are boats, and the Kim dock is where Taehyung heads. 

Taehyung’s fluffy hair whips in the cool autumn wind during his trek through the cleared walkway between the dunes leading to the beach. Reaching the sand, the toes of his boots darken as he trudges through it. All morning, it rained, making the sand clump like wet dirt. Slimy seaweed and other debris cake the shoreline, so Taehyung carefully walks along the beach. 

The Kim dock isn’t anything fancy. Taehyung’s father built it himself out of wood he cut, sanded, and treated with his bare hands years ago. They keep their small fishing boat anchored to it – Singularity, named by Taehyung. He didn't know what to say when his parents asked him what it meant. He couldn’t outright admit that the word came to him in whispers in the wind when he sat at the edge of the dock, feet kicking in the air above the water. Taehyung has told one too many stories in the past; his parents are tired of hearing about his conversations with the wind. They said he would grow out of it, but Taehyung is freshly twenty, no longer a child, yet the wind still speaks. 

It’s cold without the sun to chase away the rain clouds. Taehyung zips his windbreaker up to the base of his throat and crouches at the edge of the dock to peer out at the ocean. The water is clouded from the rain kicking up the sandy floor.

“Hi,” Taehyung speaks to the wind and hopes it remembers. 

He left his phone at home, so he has no way of knowing how long he waits. The dock is rain-soaked, but his thighs burn from crouching. He opts for kneeling and shivers when his jeans absorb water at the knees.

“My Tae?” 

“Yes!” Taehyung perks up, eyes searching the horizon where the gray sky meets the murky ocean waters. He never sees anything; it’s just the wind. He looks anyway. 

“Where have you been, my Tae?” The wind sounds disappointed, and guilt makes Taehyung shrink further into his jacket like a frightened animal backed into a corner. 

“I’m sorry. I go to college now,” Taehyung admits sheepishly, “Far from here, so I can only visit during school breaks.” 

Waves lap at the legs of the dock. Sometimes, Taehyung thinks he sees things in the water, shadows bigger than the fish he catches off the dock in the summers. His father insists that the water is too shallow for large fish like sharks, but Taehyung doesn’t believe him. 

“I miss my Tae when he isn’t around…” 

Is it possible for a voice to be addicting? Taehyung swears the wind’s voice calms him. It’s silvery and alluring, a lullaby he could find himself falling into. He imagines himself falling asleep on a note, riding the soundwaves of the wind’s voice, ringing pure and cutting through the splash of waves meeting the dock. Sometimes, he wishes the wind would sing to him, knowing it would be a kind of heaven on earth if it did. 

“I miss you, too. It’s hard making new friends. I can’t just talk to them about anything like I can with you.” He closes his eyes and feels the wind kiss each eyelid.

“You are my only friend,” the wind whispers, sounding so close that Taehyung thinks he can feel the wind swirl against the side of his face. 

The air smells stronger now, a mixture of saltwater and petrichor. A cold front must be approaching. Taehyung worries it may rain again, but he doesn’t open his eyes to check. Something tells him not to, that it’s safer if he keeps them closed, though he doesn’t know why he’d need to be kept safe. Safe from what? The wind? 

“Open your eyes, Taehyung,” the wind whispers softly, alluring, a temptation so sweet that Taehyung feels himself falling into it, “See me.” 

“I’m scared,” Taehyung whimpers with a shiver. He tucks his hands between his thighs and holds his breath when he feels something caress his jaw, a light pressure like an index finger trailing from his earlobe to his chin. 

“Why are you scared? I love you, my Tae.” The light touch sweeps back along his jaw and then trails down Taehyung’s throat until the collar of his jacket stops it. His wind loves him. “I would never hurt you. Now open your eyes.” 

Cold hands gently cradle Taehyung’s face, palms to his cheeks. The hands are soft, slightly damp, and very much real. The wind can’t have hands, he tells himself. The wind is just wind. Taehyung’s stomach churns, tumbling like it does when his father’s boat hits a patch of rocky waves, sending fish flopping onto the bed of the boat and making Taehyung’s boots slide against the aluminum. 

With his heart fluttering like a caged hummingbird, Taehyung slowly opens his eyes. 

The wind is not air, but a young man with eyes a murky green like the sea who stares at Taehyung with parted glossy lips. Taehyung catches a glimpse of sharpened teeth behind those luscious lips, but he can’t focus on only one thing when there is so much of the man to take in. His shockingly white hair is messily braided with strips of seaweed and strings of pink pearls and draped over his shoulder – his naked shoulder – and Taehyung realizes the man is shirtless. Little jewels, pearls, and other shimmery gems decorate the man’s chest, outlining his sides until they reach his waist – covered in green scales that gleam despite the lack of sun. Taehyung inhales sharply when his eyes finally land on the sparkly fishtail draped over the side of the dock. 

“I–” Panic swells in Taehyung’s chest. He gasps as though he’s been pulled underwater, the moisture in the air like the ocean in his lungs. “Who, who are you?”

“I am your wind, Taehyung,” the man says with a small smile. When he slides one hand up Taehyung’s face to tuck a strand of hair behind his ear, he makes a sound like a cat purring. “But in the water, I am called Jimin.” 

“Jimin,” Taehyung whispers. Jimin. It is such a soft name; Taehyung likes how his lips pucker when he says it. “Why didn’t you ever tell me your name? Why didn’t you show yourself to me?” 

Jimin gives Taehyung a sad smile. “I was scared, too.” 

Taehyung’s heart still beats frantically in his chest, but he calms down as Jimin plays with his hair, caressing and running his fingers through the strands. Jimin calls out Taehyung’s name, whispering it like a secret only they know, “My Tae, my sweet Tae, my precious Taehyungie, so happy to finally touch you.” 

Taehyung finds himself closing his eyes and leaning into Jimin’s touch, letting out a quiet whimper when Jimin lightly scratches his scalp. Hypnotizing – the word bubbles up to the surface of Taehyung’s mind, his thoughts murky like the water beneath the dock. The wind, Jimin, is hypnotizing. 

“Why?” Taehyung asks without explanation, but Jimin knows everything. 

“I want to keep you.” 

“Hmm?” Taehyung lifts his head, realizing he has rested it on Jimin’s shoulder. It’s comfortable in Jimin’s embrace, even though Taehyung’s pants are thoroughly soaked from rain and ocean water, and Jimin’s scales feel strange under his fingers when he skips them along Jimin’s waist. 

“I want to keep you, my Tae. I can’t let you go.” 

“Keep me where?” Taehyung asks with glossy round eyes. He points to the waves lapping at the dock. “In there?” 

Jimin licks his lips, and Taehyung feels his stomach churn and dip like the climax of a rollercoaster or a freefall from a plane. 

“Yes.” Jimin runs his thumb along the apple of Taehyung’s cheek. His touch is just as soothing as it is terrifying; Taehyung can’t comprehend how that is. “Will you come with me?” 

Taehyung can’t. He can’t survive in the ocean; doesn’t his wind know that? 

But there’s still the pull. The source of it sinks lower until it’s tugging at Taehyung’s belly, making him heat up despite the temperature quickly dropping around them. It’s almost night; he’s unsure if he has already missed dinner or if his mother is searching for him. Looking over his shoulder, he sees nothing– hears nothing but the chirp of gulls and the crash of waves. 

“Taehyung.” 

Jimin’s fingers curl around Taehyung’s chin and force Taehyung to face him again. The color of his eyes seems to have darkened with the sky, a light gray now when it was once green. 

Taehyung’s name sounds so pretty, coming from Jimin’s pillowy lips, lips glossy and pink like the pearls in his hair, and the gems decorating his body. 

Taehyung feels the pull, and he wonders if it’s Jimin giving him sealegs, even though they’re both sitting down. Something is terrifying about his beauty, something uncanny, like an android that looks a little too real, or the feeling you get when you realize a photograph is actually a painting – still beautiful but deceptive. There’s something scary about Jimin that Taehyung can’t fully understand before it slips through his fingers like sand. 

Taehyung wants to kiss him. 

“I want to kiss you,” he says, not knowing why he admits it out loud. He can’t stop himself from leaning into Jimin when he pulls Taehyung against him. 

“My sweet Tae,” Jimin murmurs into Taehyung’s mouth. 

Jimin’s tongue is slippery and tastes like saltwater, but it’s warm and deft as it flicks against Taehyung’s lips and slithers along Taehyung’s tongue. His hands tangle in Taehyung’s hair, yanking his head to the side to deepen the kiss. It’s fast and desperate, Taehyung moaning and gasping into Jimin and Jimin taking it with bites to Taehyung’s lips and groans of his own. Taehyung has never been kissed like this, held so gently but ravaged. His lungs burn as he drowns in his wind. 

Taehyung groans when Jimin releases his mouth to suck on his neck, just above his jacket’s collar. Taehyung can do nothing but let Jimin pull his head back, and he watches the stars come into view when he’s laid flat on his back. Water soaks his hair, making the strands turn black, and Taehyung’s body shivers from the cold. Only his torso is relatively dry. 

“Jimin,” Taehyung calls out, voice gravelly, nearly stuck in the back of his throat. “I can’t.” 

I can’t survive in the ocean, he thinks, and can’t speak because Jimin suddenly straddles his thighs. 

“Stay with me, Taehyung,” Jimin pleads, but it’s spoken with an authority Taehyung can’t imagine disobeying.

“Your legs,” Taehyung chokes and tries to push himself up on his elbows. 

Gone is Jimin’s elegant tail. He has legs now, pretty legs with a smattering of green scales at his hips and along his calves. Jimin grips Taehyung’s hips with fingers that are greenish at the tips. His nails are sharpened into points and dig into his skin, even through his jacket.

“If you will not stay with me, let me give my Tae a gift,” Jimin whispers, his eyes sparkling like the ocean under the moonlight. 

Taehyung nods quickly and squirms beneath him. “Something to remember you until I can visit again?”

Jimin licks his lips, eyes boring into Taehyung’s, and Taehyung gets another glimpse of sharp teeth. He rakes his nails down Taehyung’s body, from his hips to the tops of his thighs. Taehyung hears the denim rip and fray, but Jimin’s nails don’t break his skin. 

“You’ll never forget me, my Tae.” 

“Of course not,” Taehyung pants with a heaving chest. He feels wild, an animal taunted by the rattle of his ribs when Jimin suddenly shakes him. 

“Your gift,” Jimin whispers as he leans forward, walking his green-tipped fingers up Taehyung’s torso until they’re hooked around his shoulders. 

“My gift…” 

Taehyung watches Jimin’s eyes change, shifting from gray to bright white, and his pupils turn into pinpoints. 

“My heart is pierced by Cupid; I disdain all glittering gold,” Jimin sings softly as he yanks Taehyung into a sitting position and straddles his lap, “There is nothing can console me, but my jolly sailor bold.” 

The song sounds familiar, but Taehyung doesn’t know why. The memory sits on the tip of his tongue and dances to the haunting tune of Jimin’s cadence, just out of Taehyung’s grasp. He finds that it doesn’t matter – not the memory, nor anything else. 

“His hair, it hangs in ringlets, his eyes as black as coal. My happiness attend him wherever he may go.” 

Taehyung’s head lolls to the side. He no longer holds it up, just lets Jimin’s warm palms squeeze his cheeks to keep him upright. He goes where Jimin moves him, tips his head backward when Jimin wants to stare into his eyes. 

“From Tower Hill to Blackwall, I'll wander, weep, and moan, all for my jolly sailor, until he sails home.”

Jimin’s nails puncture Taehyung’s jacket. He hooks his fingers through the material as he wraps his legs around Taehyung’s waist. Before Taehyung has the chance to do anything but let out a startled gasp, Jimin falls backward into the water, taking Taehyung with him. 

There is no splash when their bodies slip past the ocean’s surface, only bubbles that pattern the otherwise still waters. The waves no longer lap against the Kim family’s dock. The wind no longer speaks. 

@jooniesxbby @taegeum

Disclaimer: All my writing is fictional and for entertainment purposes only. None of these characters are meant to actually represent the real people mentioned in the stories. 

All rights reserved © @gimmethatagustd​ - Do not copy, repost, modify, or translate any of my writing. Do not use my writing for any AI purposes whatsoever. Do not use my fics for anything aside from reading and commenting on them. My fics will only be posted on this Tumblr and on AO3 (gimmethatagustd & daddytaehyungie). Request an AO3 account here.

[teshadraws]

Pokemon Mystery Dungeon: Seekers of Soul

[Chapter 50]

<< First | < Previous | Next >

-

Tobias and Nia take the ferry north to the guild, but the river might not be as peaceful as they would hope.

-

When Tobias wakes at sunrise, he has to take a few minutes to settle his thoughts. For once, they’re racing almost as soon as he’s conscious, still tangled up in all of the information Nia dumped on him after her impromptu talk with Giratina yesterday.

As if that situation wasn’t terrifying enough on its own.

No, she also had to come back from her little chat with news of the world ending. And somehow, Nia and Tobias are the ones put in charge of stopping it.

No pressure or anything.

Tobias knows they can’t just ignore it, though. If Giratina is telling the truth—and Tobias is still a bit iffy on that, but can’t find much reason for why he would lie about such a thing, either—then it needs to be fixed. It’s not something he’s willing to take a chance on.

At least they have a plan. Tobias isn’t looking forward to groveling to Will for the assistance Nia is convinced he can give, but he’ll feel better once he loops August and Alistair and some of the other guild ‘mon in on this. See what they know. Someone has to have an idea of where Xerneas’ resting place could be.

But before worrying about all of that, they need to actually make it back to the Lexym Guild. Even taking the ferry, it’ll probably be a couple of days until they reach home. They can think over how to bring all of this to light once they’re back.

Tobias sits up with a groan and goes about his usual process of rolling Nia out of bed. She whines in protest, but he manages to hurry them both out of the inn and into the heart of Shivergleam just as the first rays of dawn start to peek orange-bright through the foggy gray morning.

Shivergleam is strange to see in the light of day. Most Pokemon are either already asleep or heading to bed, and as they pass a grocery store Tobias sees a yawning gourgeist flip their OPEN sign to CLOSED. The ominous, twisted wooden structures around them suddenly look harmless. Almost like a town of whimsical treehouses, some distant cousin to his own home in the Lexym Tree.

Tobias leads Nia across creaky bridges (which are scarier in the day, when he can see just how far down the drop is to fog-capped swamp water) towards where he’s pretty sure the Aqua Jet had docked the night before. It’s not like it’s too big of a town, and Cordelia’s white and orange ferry stands out against the much more modest wooden canoes that the locals own.

The two of them hurry down the steps to the ferry, catching Beck just as he pulls himself out of the swamp. Water runs in rivulets through his thick orange fur and splatters onto the wood as he looks up.

“There you are! Perfect timing. Our other passenger just boarded so we’re ready to go.”

“Who’s the other passenger?” Nia asks.

Beck scratches at his chin. “A sableye. Some kind of researcher? He’s heading to the caves north of the Lexym Guild, near the foot of the mountains.”

Nia perks up at the word researcher. “I wonder if he’d tell us what he researches!”

“Not sure. He was a bit mumbly—real quiet guy.”

Tobias can handle quiet. They don’t need any shenanigans on their trip back north, especially considering they have to be on the water again. Not exactly any fire type’s favorite place to be.

“And they’re back!” A voice crows from up near the captain’s cabin. A blue and yellow maw leans out to peer down at them, teeth bared in an obnoxious grin. “Couldn’t stay away from the beautiful riverfront, could you, Charmander?”

Tobias curls his lip at her in return. While Nia waves and says hi, Tobias boards the ferry and moves to the back deck out of the croconaw’s line of sight.

It’s there he spots their new co-passenger: a spindly, dark purple ghost type with large, unnerving gemstone eyes. As in they literally look like cut gemstones. Creepy. The Pokemon is curled around a backpack and tucked up against the cabin of the ferry, half-hidden in shadows.

Tobias’ gut instinct after last night with Edme (and the general distance of the Shivergleam residents as a whole) is to be wary of their fellow passenger. Not that it would be likely for Edme to send someone after them for information about Giratina or revenge or something, but…

“Tobias, did you—“

Nia stops as she catches up, blinking as she notices the other passenger. It takes her a beat longer than usual, but she does step closer to give the ghost type a nervous smile.

“Hello! You must be the researcher Beck mentioned, right? I’m Nia and this is Tobias. I thought we should introduce ourselves since we’ll be traveling together for a few days!”

The sableye curls in a bit more at the greeting, but does quietly say, “H-Hello. Carnelian. Nice to meet you.”

“Nice to meet you too!”

Carnelian gives a jerky nod. Not rude, but clearly anxious and maybe not used to socializing.

They take a few steps away to give him some space. As the crew finishes preparations, Nia looks to Tobias, probably waiting for him to head back down to the boiler room with Ignatius.

Tough luck. After last night he’s not letting his danger-prone partner out of sight quite yet. He waves her off, gesturing for her to sit wherever she’s planning to sit so he can figure out where he’s settling for the morning.

Nia frowns, catching on. “You can really go inside if you’d like.”

Tobias rolls his eyes and takes the initiative, plopping down against the ferry’s middle, as far as he can from Carnelian. “I’ll go in if I want to.”

Nia doesn’t look convinced, but she doesn’t argue as the ferry starts up. Tobias hears Beck and Nori leap overboard with a quiet splash. Ignatius must’ve already descended into the boiler room to get the steam engine running. Which only leaves—

Caspian comes plap plap plap-ing around the corner. The little quaxly is clearly full of energy despite the early hour. He waves happily to Nia and Tobias before scampering from one side of the deck to the other to make sure that everything is in place and properly tied down. Tobias still isn’t sure if the kid is actually responsible for that part of the routine, or if the crew just gave him a “job” to help him feel useful.

Regardless, as Nia and Tobias watch, Cas runs to and fro before deeming the ship worthy. He leans through the railing to wave down at the river, and Tobias hears a quiet splash as Beck swims around to the front of the ferry to give Cordelia the all-clear. Within a minute, they’re moving slowly across the swamp, through the narrow channel leading back to the Lilycap River.

In the light of day, the swampy environment just looks…peaceful. Inviting, even, if you don’t mind water.

Carnelian doesn’t seem too keen to chat, so Nia sighs and lays back across the deck. “…I should probably practice my aura.”

Tobias raises a brow. It’s not unusual for Nia to practice her aura abilities, but it is unusual for her to jump to that option immediately, especially this early in the morning. She must be thinking about what Giratina said. Tobias has the itch to train too, knowing what they’re up against.

“Aura?”

Cas has moved to their side. The quaxly tilts his head at Nia.

Nia sits up. “Oh. Um, it’s sort of like….a specific set of moves I can use as a riolu. Everyone has aura, but I can use it for attacks and sensing things and reading someone's energy.”

Cas’ brow furrows. “‘Reading?’ Like a book? How do you do that for energy?”

“Well…aura is sort of like each pers—each Pokemon’s, um. Life energy, I guess? And everyone’s is unique! Like a fingerprint. I can look at them and know more about someone’s character and personality.”

“Could you read mine?!” Cas asks, confusion dropping in exchange for sheer excitement.

Nia looks torn between amusement and discomfort. “I-I mean. I could? But it’s sort of…personal. I see a lot about who you are. Some Pokemon find it kind of…invasive.”

“I don’t mind!” Cas insists, plopping down and scooting closer with all the reckless excitement of the child he is. “Please? It sounds neat! And I’m not big enough to help out with anything else right now so I have time.”

After another moment of hesitation, Nia huffs a laugh. She relaxes and holds out a paw. “All right. Could I have your wing for a minute?”

Cas complies, and Nia closes her eyes. Bright blue energy outlines her body, and the appendages at either side of her head lift as she concentrates her aura.

Tobias watches this process with vague curiosity. While he’s been adamant from the start that Nia not read his aura, the process doesn’t seem quite as awful to him as it once did. Not if Nia’s the one looking at his soul, at least. He would still rather she not, a little uncomfortable with what she might find, but the thought doesn’t send anxiety rushing through him, either.

Plus, she already glimpsed it down in the mines. Red. He’s red, apparently. Whatever that means.

“You’re sort of a bright pinkish-purple,” Nia says. “Almost fuchsia.”

Cas, who had been nervously staring at Nia, perks up. “That sounds pretty!”

Nia smiles, eyes still closed. “It is pretty. It’s like…the reflected colors in a bubble. Fun and light. Or…coral? Supportive. Tougher than it looks.”

Caspian looks like he’s feeling self-conscious but isn’t sure if he should be. “So is fuchsia…good?”

Nia releases the quaxly’s wing and smiles. “Well, I sure like it!”

Caspian looks down, feathers fluffing with pleased embarrassment.

“A lot of water metaphors this time,” Tobias notes, amused.

Nia shrugs with a smile. "Just felt right."

“Is that because I'm a water type?" Cas asks. "Do all types have the same color aura?”

“No, as far as I can tell your type doesn’t actually matter,” Nia says. “I’m sort of a turquoise blue, but I’m a fighting type. And I know another water type who’s green.”

“Oh.” Cas looks up thoughtfully. “I wonder what color Delia is.”

Tobias snorts. He can’t imagine Cordelia feeling comfortable letting Nia look at her soul. She seems like the fiercely private type—not that he has any room to talk.

Nia shrugs. “Could be anything, really.”

Cas mulls that over, leaning to the side and trying to peer around the tall cabin of the ferry as if he could actually see Cordelia at the wheel, let alone into her soul.

“Your aura control is really solid now,” Tobias comments.

Nia's tail wags a bit. “Thank you! I still feel like I have a long way to go, but I’m getting better. I’ve been practicing a lot!”

Tobias knows, considering he’s been around for most of her practicing.

“You going to show Val the new aura radar trick you figured out in the mines?"

“Yeah! I just hope I can recreate it when I talk to her.”

Cas tunes back into the conversation, chirping, “So what all can you do with aura?”

Nia gives Tobias a wink before forming a short staff of aura and giving it a twirl.

Cas gasps. “That’s so cool!”

“You have any cool tricks?” Tobias asks the little water type.

“I can’t do anything like that, but Auntie has been working with me on a lot of other moves and stuff. Here, watch this!”

The quaxly hops to his feet and spurts a weak water gun attack out over the railing to splatter harmlessly into the river channel.

Nia claps, and Tobias makes a suitably impressed face.

“I don’t have much else, though. I’ve mostly been working on, uh, status moves,” Cas says, sitting down. “Auntie’s a primarina, so she’s really good with that sort of thing. And she says that I shouldn’t be in the middle of serious fights at my age anyways.”

“Status moves, huh,” Nia echoes, idly twisting her aura baton through her fingers.

Tobias knows that look. She must be thinking about which ones she could use herself. He nudges her. “You ever gonna try learning work up? It’s a normal type move.”

Nia’s eyes widen. “I forgot about that one! What does that do again? Raises attack, right?”

“And special attack.”

Nia’s brow furrows. “Great. So now all I have to do is just…learn it.”

“Is it a TM?” Cas asks.

Nia blinks, first at the water type and then at Tobias.

Tobias barely bites back a rude remark. “No, it’s not a trained move for you. Should be learned naturally.”

Cas turns a confused look onto Nia.

“I…have trouble learning new moves,” Nia explains, sheepish. “Learning moves naturally. It doesn’t come to me as easy as it should.”

“That’s all right!” Cas says, surprisingly genuine. “I struggle sometimes with the moves Auntie and Delia teach me, but eventually I figure ‘em out! Usually I just gotta figure out how to form ‘em.”

Nia tilts her head. “How to form them?”

“Yeah!” Cas nods. “Like how a water gun is all about focusing my power in my belly, where my water sac is, but for disarming voice I try to push my energy into my lungs and throat.”

“Oh! Right.” Nia watches Cas with a quiet intensity as the klinklang turn inside her head. “How…how would you try using a move like work up? Where your whole body gets stronger? I was thinking that I would just need to spread my aura—my energy throughout my body, but that doesn’t seem to work.”

Cas glances at Tobias, as if unsure of why Nia is looking to a twelve year old of all ‘mon for guidance. But then he speaks up, “Well…does it feel like you’re giving your muscles any kind of boost when you do that?”

Nia closes her eyes for a moment, as if testing it out, and frowns. “…No. it feels like it’s just leaving my body without doing anything.”

“Oh, I used to do something like that!” Cas says, clearly thrilled to be able to help. “It's probably ‘cause you’re just pushing your energy out, away from your body. Auntie said you just waste it when you do that.”

Nia groans, head landing in her paws. “Great.”

“She told me that instead of pushing your energy away from you, you have to, um…how’d she put it? You have to use your energy like a river.”

“A river?” Tobias asks, doubtful.

Cas nods. “Yeah! Like, channel your energy through your body in one big loop instead of outward, starting at your shoulders then down to your feet and back up. She said that keeping it moving is what makes the power.”

Nia’s eyes widen as she straightens up. “Like a water wheel. If the energy is the water, then keeping it in a constant river loop keeps it contained in your body—“

“Instead of just pushing it away from yourself and wasting it,” Tobias realizes.

Nia grins. “Of course! Oh, that makes so much sense. Thank you, Cas! I’ll try that.”

Cas fluffs again, happy but shy. Once Tobias asks him about his aunt who taught him that, he starts chattering again, clearly super proud of the primarina.

As he does, Tobias glances at their sableye travel-buddy, who is still hunched over in the shade of the boat’s middle. Then Tobias lets himself fall back to the warming deck and closes his eyes, pillowing his head with his arms to listen.

While he might not be fond of boat travel, there isn’t much else to do over the next couple days aside from plan and do what little training they can. Might as well chat with Cas and relax while they can.

—————————————————————————————————

Over the next day and a half, Tobias’ fear of leaving Nia alone dies down, allowing him to retreat to the warm isolation of the boiler room when the river starts to become too much. He still doesn’t stay with Ignatius as much as he did on their first trip, though.

He feels the need to keep an eye on Nia, worried about where her head is at. It’s just like the period after her illness, when she would space out and drown in her own thoughts. Sometimes Tobias catches a sheen of tears in her eyes too, like she’s just barely holding it together. Tobias doesn’t know if it’s the fear and pressure of the mission dropped onto their shoulders, or if she’s worried about being able to return to the human world.

Either way, he can tell that she’s…off.

Tobias doesn’t know how to ask her if she wants to talk about it. He feels hot embarrassment burn at his face and close his throat any time he considers it. Instead, he opts to just stay close.

Not that Tobias is much better, between his own fear regarding their world-saving mission and…well.

He’s thinking about Team Zenith again.

It starts with the crobat—Asra or Vesper or whatever his name was at the end. Tobias still hates him, still feels loathing sit cold and heavy like a ball of steel in his chest. He hates the crobat more now that he knows the coward got to live a happy life with his family after what he did to Tobias’ own.

Even if his mate was right and the crobat regretted what he was a part of. Even if Tobias recalls in scattered memories that the crobat didn’t do much more than corral them, he still didn’t stop Dismas or Sulien either. Instead, he let them kill Tobias’ family then ran away.

At least he’s dead now. Tobias should probably feel bad for the quiet satisfaction that thought brings, but he doesn’t.

Instead, Tobias thinks about Dismas and Sulien. The pangoro and arcanine presumably still out there, living their own lives. Do they regret it? Have they had their own families too? Tobias doesn’t remember much about the pangoro aside from flashes of black and white fur, snarling and grappling with his mother, before the arcanine pinned Tobias down and took up the entirety of his vision.

Tobias can only think of what happened to him in pieces before forcing himself to focus again on the world around him, digging his claws into the wood of the boat and looking out over the river. His heart pounds and a chill rises over his skin. He feels his head go light.

Funny enough, the end of the world is somehow a less terrifying thing to focus on. Tobias and Nia haven’t talked about it much since learning of it, seeing as they already have their vague plan and nothing to do until they get back to the Lexym Guild anyways. Tobias doesn’t think talking about it in circles would help.

So they both stay quiet.

Beck catches on quickly to their distracted thoughts and somber mood. The floatzel doesn’t ask, but Tobias notices how he checks in with them when he can, recruiting Cas to buoy the atmosphere. Beck talks to them about the river and the crew’s travels, clearly working hard at making Nia smile. Normally, Tobias would find something like that annoying, but Beck isn’t overbearing about it.

Tobias does find their sableye co-passenger—well. Not annoying, per se, but off-putting. He keeps entirely to himself, occasionally digging through his backpack to write in a little notebook, and Tobias can’t help how suspicious he is of what the little ‘mon writes so fervently.

The last time they trusted a ghost Nia got yanked into the distortion world against her will. Tobias doesn’t think anyone could blame him for a little caution. Well, anyone but Nia apparently. The third time she catches Tobias glancing warily at Carnelian, she pulls him aside to ask him what’s up.

“Weren’t you the one who said ghost types get unfairly discriminated against all the time?” She whispers.

“I’m not doing that!” Tobias hisses.

Nia gives him an unconvinced look.

“He’s just…weird.”

Nia huffs a laugh. “Just because he’s quiet doesn’t mean he’s weird. Maybe he’s anxious because he’s not used to being away from Shivergleam.”

Tobias sighs, rubbing at his face. Is he being suspicious for no good reason? Would he be less suspicious if the passenger was just as weird but not a ghost type?

…Probably, some small, ashamed part of him admits.

“Sorry,” he mumbles. “Just…on edge.”

“I get it.”

From that point on, Tobias does his best to just ignore the sableye lurking around the ship. Even when they stop to eat in the evening and the sableye mysteriously vanishes.

“Probably finding his own food,” Ignatius explains once he notices Tobias looking around.

“Ah, right. Sableye eat rocks or something, right?” Cordelia says through a mouthful of the stew they’d cooked up.

“Rocks?” Cas echoes, eyes wide.

“Gems,” Nori corrects quietly. “Crystals and minerals.”

“Eh, same difference,” Cordelia dismisses.

The second day of travel dawns as calm as the first. The river is still flooded, rushing by at unsettling speeds, frothy and impossible to see through, but Nori and Beck manage to navigate the rough waters with ease, and Cordelia’s hands are steady at the wheel.

Even the weather is decent. Slightly cloudy and overcast, but no longer pounding rain like it was on the way into Shivergleam. It’s even warm enough for the deck to heat under Tobias’ scales and lull him into a nap while Nia practices her aura.

It’s not until early afternoon that something goes amiss.

Their first sign of danger is Carnelian, scuttling to his feet and looking around. The little Pokemon is fidgety, but something about the abrupt gesture speaks of panic.

Tobias and Nia snap into ready positions themselves a moment after, looking around. Cas, who had been perched on a crate nearby and watching the river, looks nervously between the three of them.

“Carnelian?” Nia asks, quiet. “Did you notice something?”

Carnelian opens his mouth, only for an unfamiliar shout from the front of the boat to snag their attention. It’s more feminine than Beck’s deep voice, and it takes Tobias a moment to realize that it’s Nori. The golduck who has been nearly silent the entire time they’ve known her.

That can’t be good.

Nori is calling something up to Cordelia, who Tobias can vaguely hear cursing in the captain’s quarters. The boat swings suddenly to the side, as if trying to slow to a sudden stop. Nia and Tobias stumble and grab onto the railing, and Caspian falls into Tobias’ side. Carnelian yelps and goes sliding across the deck.

A second later, Tobias feels what Carnelian and Nori must’ve noticed first. A tingling against his skin, in his limbs. Something uncomfortable and off, hard to pin down but familiar enough by now.

A mystery dungeon.

Nia, probably still unable to sense it due to her fighting type nature, frowns at his paling face. “What?”

“Mystery dungeon,” he grits, trying to determine how close it is. If he can feel it in the air, it must be dangerously close.

Cordelia finally manages to ease the boat against the muddy bank of the riverside. It shudders to a stop, and everyone breathes a collective sigh of relief.

Cordelia leaves the cabin and rushes around the corner, eyes honing in on Caspian and relaxing once she catches sight of him. Then she glances around. “Everyone all right back here?”

They all nod. A moment later, Beck and Nori leap out of the river with a splash and thud on deck.

“Everyone okay?” Beck echoes. “Where’s Natius?”

Right on cue, the door to the inner cabin swings open and Ignatius stomps out on-deck. “By Moltres’ flames, what is going on out here?”

The crew relaxes seeing their last missing member in good shape.

“Got a bit too close to a mystery dungeon,” Cordelia sighs, rubbing a clawed hand down her snout. “Nori caught it in time.”

Tobias is glad she did. Even now the tingling is strong, still blaring alarms in the back of his mind that danger is nearby. Tobias looks at Nori. The golduck is staring out into the forest, ruby eyes narrowed.

“U-Um,” Carnelian pipes up, voice high and nervous. Everyone turns to him, surprised to hear the sableye speak.

He shrinks, but glances at Nori, claws twiddling anxiously. “M-Miss Nori, I could be incorrect, but do you still..?”

Nori’s beak flattens out into a grim expression. She nods. “Something’s wrong.”

Tobias exchanges an uneasy glance with Nia.

There’s a tense moment of silence, save for the loud rush of the river. Tobias’ heart pounds as he swears the tingling feeling gets stronger, somehow. His head feels fuzzy, which is strange. He didn’t hit it or anything.

Tobias sees the moment Nori figures it out. “The dungeon is still forming. Right on top of us.”

Oh. Oh no.

Cordelia, who had crouched to pick up Cas, stares at her crewmate.

“W-Wait—it’s still forming?” Nia asks, glancing out at the forest. “Here? Right now? But if that happens—“

“We’ll turn feral,” Ignatius sighs, sounding almost resigned. He puffs out a cloud of smoke. “No telling what’ll happen after that.”

Tobias feels his blood chill, goosebumps rising on his skin. Now that he knows what’s happening, he can consciously recognize how slow and clumsy his thoughts suddenly feel. Like his mind is trying to wade through thick, sticky sap. If the mystery dungeon forms on top of them, they’ll turn feral until it clears again, which could be weeks. And in the meantime they’ll be mindless beasts. If one of them gets hurt, then—

Cas whimpers, burying his head in Cordelia’s stomach. Everyone else looks quietly terrified, eyes down and hands balled into fists.

“C-Can’t we do something?” Nia presses. “Can we outrun it?”

Beck shakes his head. “‘Fraid not. I’ve heard musings, but…”

“Musings?” Tobias asks.

“Unsubstantiated musings,” Nori says.

“I don’t care if they’re substantiated or not!” Tobias snarls. “If you’ve got an idea then say it!”

“Safeguard,” Beck says. “Heard a rumor ‘bout it. But unless one of you has safeguard in your arsenal, we ain’t got no way to protect ourselves even if it would work.”

There's a heavy moment of silence. Then—

Nia’s head whips up. “Protect. Would protect work?”

The crew blinks slowly at Nia, as if trying to process her words. Tobias hears Carnelian let out a animalistic whine of fear.

Nori is the first one to shake out of it enough to speak. “I don’t—“

“Do it!” Tobias growls.

Nia throws out her paws, and her aura snaps into being around them, surrounding the group in a thin dome of blue energy. Immediately, Tobias feels his sluggish thoughts clear, like the first breath of fresh air after a stuffy nose. He realizes he’d been hunched over in a crouch, and straightens up.

Everyone else snaps out of the creeping effect of the dungeon too, standing taller as their eyes clear. Cordelia almost seems to be ashamed about succumbing to the effect, and focuses on murmuring reassurances to Cas. Beck lifts his chin to look up at the protect bubble in awe. Nori is rubbing her forehead, wincing, while Carnelian whimpers and cowers closer to Nia.

Ignatius simply says, “Huh. I’ll be.”

Tobias relates. He kind of can’t believe that worked. It’s…unheard of, to get firsthand experience from Seekers or researchers who were caught in a forming mystery dungeon and able to ward it off. He didn’t know it was possible for a move to save them from such a thing.

“It worked,” Tobias breathes, relieved.

“Why did it work?” Cordelia asks, frowning and looking to Nori. “And why haven’t I heard about these rumors?”

Nori, still rubbing tenderly at the red gem on her forehead, shrugs. “Beck and I heard a rumor earlier this year. About someone using safeguard and escaping from a forming mystery dungeon unscathed. We didn’t think it was true.”

Safeguard…so that means—

“You saying Pokemon going feral is nothin’ more than a status condition?” Cordelia asks, squinting.

Nori shakes her head. “It has to be more than that. But it might work in a…similar way. A form of confusion. If so, it makes some amount of sense that it could be stopped by a strong safeguard.”

“Or a strong protect, apparently,” Beck says. “We’re real lucky you were here, Nia.”

Nia smiles, but Tobias can see the beginning of strain in her expression, in the way she doesn’t respond. She used her protect in the mines at Fort Asra, but Tobias doesn’t think she’s ever made a shield this large. It’s going to drain her quickly, even if she has been practicing with her aura.

“However it worked, we've bought ourselves a few more minutes of sanity,” Tobias says. “But now what? We’re still stuck in the middle of it and Nia can’t keep this up forever.”

Nia’s mouth twists unhappily, but she doesn’t argue.

“Could we move the boat?” Cas suggests quietly.

Cordelia shakes her head. “‘Fraid not. We would need the whole crew at their stations for that, and we’d be too far apart to protect everyone.”

“C-Could we send a distress signal?” Carnelian pipes up, voice shaking. He glances at Tobias and Nia. “To the guild.”

Oh. Right. Tobias feels a little angry that he didn’t think of that himself. He hurriedly reaches into their satchel to grab one of their badges. Then he frowns.

“No go. Too far out.”

Carnelian shrinks back into himself.

“Okay,” Tobias says, running a hand back and over his head. Think, Tobias. They aren’t technically on a mission right now, but they are Seekers. It’s their duty to protect the crew and make sure they’re safe. And Nia is busy as is, so he has to take the lead.

“Moves,” he says. “Or items. Does anyone have anything that might help? Something to stop confusion or get us out of here. Safeguard, protect, uh…fly, teleport. An escape orb?”

“Aren’t you the Seeker?” Ignatius huffs. “You should have the items.”

Tobias shoots the torkoal a nasty look. “Any helpful suggestions?”

Each Pokemon grows quiet, then shakes their head. All except Cordelia, who is looking down at the top of Cas' feathery blue head with a furrow to her brow.

Tobias stares at her, expectant.

She glares back at him, but relents. “We…might have something.”

Then she detaches the teary quaxly from her front, kneeling down to meet his eyes.

“Hey, bro?”

Cas sniffs. “Yeah?”

“Do you remember that move Auntie’s been working on with you? The one with the pink misty stuff?”

Caspian’s brow furrows. He tilts his head. “Misty train?”

Cordelia chuckles, but it’s strained. “Misty terrain, yeah. Can you do me a favor? D’you think you could try to use that?”

Tobias frowns. Misty terrain? The move sounds vaguely familiar, but…

The aura shield around them flickers. Weakens and thins and grows more transparent for just a moment as Nia growls. Tobias, concerned, steps closer and presses his arm against hers.

“A big burst of it, yeah,” Cordelia says, encouraging. “Enough to fill this whole bubble!”

Caspian glances around at everyone’s eyes on him. “W-Would it help?”

“Honestly, bite? Not sure. But it might. And we gotta try something.”

Cas falls silent, looking down at his feet.

Tobias glances at Nori. “Misty terrain?”

The golduck hums, gaze flicking between Cordelia and Cas. “Similar to safeguard. If he can use it, then we might be safe while the dungeon finishes forming.”

Tobias tries not to cling to that hope. He doesn’t want to put that kind of pressure onto a kid. But as he watches, Cordelia braces her hands on Cas’ small shoulders and gives him a squeeze before stepping back.

“All right, Cas. Give it a go. Just like Auntie showed ya.”

Everyone stills as Cas close his eyes. After a moment, he bobs his head—one, two, three, four. His little webbed foot taps along to an unseen beat. Nia, at Tobias’ side, is breathing hard as she continues to hold the protect.

Then Cas starts a little dance, surprisingly rhythmic. His feet tap and arc across the wood, his wings twisting and turning. Before Tobias can question what the heck he’s doing, he spins.

A cloud of pink energy bursts out from him in a wave. Tobias throws up his arms, and when he lowers them the air in their little bubble is…sparkly, the wood beneath their feet tinted with a shifting pink fog.

“Did it work?” Nia asks, voice tight.

Caspian, panting, looks between Nori and Cordelia.

Nori says, “No way to tell.”

Tobias grows colder. “So we have to just…”

“Try it,” Beck sighs. “Well? Do we want to rip the bandage off quick?”

“Awful casual about it,” Tobias growls.

Beck shrugs, though Tobias catches the concerned look he gives Nia.

Tobias sighs.

“Nia,” He says. “Drop the protect.”

She cracks open an eye, unsure.

“You can’t keep this up forever. Either it worked or it didn’t.”

Nia is clearly uncomfortable with that sentiment, but Tobias can see the way her arms tremble. How her ears fight to pin back with the strain.

“Nia,” he says, sharper.

She lets go with a gasp. The blue around them vanishes, leaving the open air of the river and the forest on either side. As Nia pants, Tobias holds his own breath.

The pink mist plays across the ground around them in a circle. It doesn’t dissipate, hovering around their feet like a protective presence.

Tobias glances at the others and can see the same nervous caution on their faces. But as the seconds pass, Tobias counting each beat until one minute passes, then two…he doesn’t feel that same fuzzy confusion return to slow his thoughts like tar.

“Did it work?” Ignatius asks, hushed. “Or did the dungeon already finish forming?”

Nori shakes her head, pointing out into the trees.

Tobias follows her gesture, feeling his skin crawl. The forest looks…restless. Trees roll in waves as the landscape shifts. Like the earth below them is a great waking beast. Even the boat tilts and groans, as if it too is being pulled into the distortion of the mystery dungeon.

Loud, sharp cries echo from the forest: Pokemon who weren’t as lucky as them. Pokemon caught up in the dungeon's haze. Within their circle of pink mist, however, their minds seem untouched.

Everyone releases a collective breath.

Cordelia whoops, scooping Cas up and spinning him in a tight hug. She’s yelling about how she knew he could do it and that he kicks tail. The quaxly giggles, a little teary-eyed.

Tobias finally relaxes, sinking down to the deck next to Nia. She laughs, tired and relieved as she bumps her head into Tobias’ shoulder.

“G’job, little ember,” Ignatius says to Cas. Then he turns to Nori. “How long will this hold?”

“Long enough, hopefully,” Nori says. “Eventually the dungeon will settle. All we can do is sit and wait for it to finish.”

Since Nori is keeping a watchful eye on their environment, Tobias allows himself to take a moment to breathe. He can’t make himself relax entirely, but he can’t do much at the moment either. He looks around at their companions.

Ignatius and Cordelia are murmuring to each other quietly. Cas looks exhausted by his big burst of energy, and leans heavily against Cordelia so she can scritch at his feathers. Carnelian is curled into a nervous ball around his bag, plucking at the backpack's cloth with his claws. He has scooted closer to Nia, as if soothed by her presence. Beck seems to be lost in thought, until Tobias notices how the floatzel glances at the edge of their protective circle. Ah. Keeping an eye on the misty terrain, then. Good.

Nia, finally having caught her breath, turns to sit against Tobias. He leans back as well so they’re spine to spine and tries to reign in his nerves. They need to stay calm and hope that the dungeon finishes forming before Cas’ attack wears off. Then…he supposes they’ll need to fight their way out of the dungeon.

He and Nia need to be ready to lead them when that time comes. They’re young, but they likely still have the most experience with navigating through situations like this.

“Huh,” Nia says, almost too quiet to hear.

“What?”

“Oh. I was just thinking that it makes sense. What Nori said, about the dungeon causing something similar to confusion.”

“Why’s that?” Tobias asks, tilting his chin back to look at the side of her head.

“Well…” her voice lowers. “If what Giratina said is true, then the borders of the rift are made up of aura. Of…life energy. And moves also come from our own life energy, our own aura. So I guess it just makes sense to me that damage in the border could…confuse the world in the same way Pokemon get confused by like, a confuse ray or something.”

Tobias snorts, remembering what Nia told him after her last breakthrough with aura. “Avery is going to lose their mind when you tell them that.”

Nia laughs. “I know.”

The group starts up a quiet conversation while they wait for the dungeon to finish forming, everyone likely trying to avoid thinking too hard about whether or not Cas’ misty terrain will hold. Tobias eyes the changing surroundings as they talk.

The forest almost seems alive, closing in tighter and tighter to form the mystery dungeons' trademark “rooms” and “hallways.” The trees shift and twist, weaving together with loud cracks that make Carnelian, Cas and Nia flinch. Weedy grasses and muddy banks rise higher into sharp inclines, boxing them slowly into a long corridor. It’s unnerving to watch happen, as if some invisible giant is ignoring the laws of reality and molding the world around them, stretching trees out like putty and raising the earth like sandcastles.

Slowly, the movements settle. The open air of the wide river has been contained to something much smaller, partially blocking out the overcast sky. An uneasy quiet descends on the forest, and Tobias isn’t sure why it feels this unnatural until he hears Cas murmur something about the river.

That’s it. The loud roar of the river is just…gone.

“I believe it’s finished,” Nori finally says.

Everyone stands tall to try peering over the lip of the boat and into the corridor they’re now trapped in. The “walls” of the hallway are unnaturally steep banks of mud, smooth river stones, and long grasses, with tree roots twisted throughout here and there. Tobias thinks he can see rivulets of water trickling down them, and hears the gentle burble of running water that can’t compare to the roar of the river.

The rivulets bleed into the “floor” of the hallway, which is covered in a sheen of water, as if it has become its own modest stream. Tobias feels his heart drop at the sight and squints, trying to look past the bright reflection of the sky to see if the water is deep or just surface-level. He has no idea how they’re going to fight their way out if the dungeon is covered in deep water. Just walking through a floor of the stuff would burn Tobias’ feet raw.

Nori is the first one to move. She exchanges a look with Beck, then calmly walks out of the protective circle. Tobias' heart jumps. Cordelia makes a sound of alarm and darts after the golduck, but Beck steps in her path.

“Beck, if you don’t move that waterlogged orange pelt—“

“Someone has to test it, and Nori is the most sensitive of us to psychic fields. She knows what she’s doing.”

Cordelia’s eyes flick past him to Nori. She grits her teeth and watches the golduck take a few more steps to the railing of the boat before turning to look at them, crossing her arms to wait.

“Give her a few minutes,” Ignatius says. “If she feels fine after that, we should be safe to move.”

After a moment, Cordelia returns to Cas' side. But she keeps her eyes trained on the golduck to watch for any signs of her being affected.

Luckily, Nori calmly stays in place, looking out over the corridor. After a few minutes, she pushes off and walks back into the protective circle of the misty terrain.

“I believe it’s safe.”

“Clearly,” Cordelia snorts. Then her voice hardens. “Don’t do that again. Captain’s orders.”

Nori nods, as if she didn’t just deliberately make a decision knowing Cordelia would object.

Cordelia grunts. Then she turns to look around at the rest of her crew and their passengers. “Well, Cas and the riolu saved our tails, but we still gotta get out of here. We ready to fight?”

“We’re not going to fight unless we have to,” Tobias counters, crossing his arms. The crew members look at him, surprised.

“And what makes you think you’re calling the shots here, kid?”

“Because Nia and I are Seekers, remember? Unless you’re secretly dungeon divers yourselves, we’re the most familiar with navigating places like this.”

“You suggesting you two lead us through this mess?” Ignatius asks, incredulous.

Tobias nods.

“Can you fight?” Cordelia challenges.

Tobias rolls his eyes. “Of course we can fight. But we should avoid ferals when possible because we have a giant group and an unknowably deep dungeon—we have to conserve our energy where we can.”

“He has a point,” Nori says.

Beck's tails twist worriedly, like a propellor. “This is unfamiliar territory you two aren’t used to. You sure you're up to this?”

Tobias snorts. “Every dungeon is unfamiliar territory. You wouldn’t be any more used to it than we are.”

Beck frowns, conceding the point but not looking happy about it.

“I would like to keep an eye on Cas,” Cordelia admits. Then, more of an order than a question, “What’s your team rank?”

“U-Um. D, right?” Nia says, glancing at Tobias.

Tobias winces, then hurries to add, “We’ve only been Seekers for a couple of months.”

“Awful proud for such shiny new recruits,” Ignatius mutters.

Tobias opens his mouth to snap something at the torkoal, only for Nia to stop him with a gentle paw on his arm.

“I know we’re young,” Nia says. “And we haven't been doing this long. But we’ve already been through…a lot. We’re stronger than we look.”

“And we’re the Seekers,” Tobias stresses. “Even if you can battle, this is different than a spar between two sane Pokemon. Let us lead.”

“We can clear a path for you,” Nia adds. “If it turns out that we can’t handle it, you guys can step in.”

The air is still heavy with uncertainty.

Tobias is irked that this is suddenly an issue at all when they face dangerous missions every day, but he knows Nia’s calmer approach is more likely to prove their point about them being mature enough to handle this, so he keeps his mouth shut.

The crew exchange looks with one another. Nori seems to surprisingly be on their side. She stares her crew mates down, apparently firm in her decision. After a moment, Ignatius grumbles something about young startups, but backs down. Cordelia, after a long and wordless exchange of expressions with Nori, nods once.

Beck is the only adult crew member who hasn’t agreed.

“What? What’s the problem?”

The floatzel sighs. “…Nothing. Just getting old and letting my instincts as a dad win out over my instincts as a crewmate.”

Oh. He’s…worried about them? He shouldn’t be. They just got the fate of the world dumped on their shoulders. They can handle a little mystery dungeon.

“We can handle it, Beck,” Nia says, echoing his thoughts. Her voice is firm but not unkind. She gives him a smile. “I know you’re worried, but this is kind of our job.”

Glancing around and realizing that no one else shares his concerns, Beck caves. “All right. Just…let me know if you two need help, all right? These old bones can still fight if need be.”

“Deal!”

The group cautiously moves out of the protective effect of Cas’ circle and to the edge of the boat. Beck insists on going down first, “Just to check how deep it is,” before slipping overboard. Tobias frowns when Beck goes entirely underwater, confirming that the path is too deep to walk through. The floatzel surfaces, glancing around to make sure nothing is about to attack before waving up at them.

Cordelia smirks at Tobias. “You sure you still want to lead, flame?”

Tobias, on completely stupid impulse, glares at her before hopping over the edge of the boat. Beck barks a startled sound but manages to catch him on his chest.

Tobias pushes roughly at the paws on his arms. “Let me go! I’m fine.”

“You can’t be implying you’re going to swim through this.”

“I said we’ll lead and I meant it!”

Beck tightens his hold. Tobias could break free, but he doesn’t want to hurt the stupid old ‘mon.

“Just…let me give you a lift through the water,” Beck says, meeting Tobias’ eyes. “In return, I won’t fret about you two leading us.”

“Or you could just let me go and not fret anyways.”

Beck’s gives him a look that feels too fatherly to be comfortable. As if to say he has the patience to wait out Tobias’ stupidity.

Tobias growls. “…Fine.”

Beck releases him, and Tobias sits up on the floatzel’s stomach. The water type is long and flat, admittedly perfect for ferrying passengers.

Nori slips over the boat next, into the gentle current with a quiet splash. Then Cordelia and Cas. After that, Cordelia yells up at the boat until Ignatius stops hollering about dying on solid ground where sane fire types belong. Then the torkoal tumbles over the edge in his shell for Nori to catch and hike carefully onto her back.

Finally, Carnelian peers over the edge, shaking visibly even from here. Nia is clearly trying to soothe the sableye, but whatever she says must work, because he eventually hauls himself over the side of the boat with jerky movements. Nia climbs out after him, watching the sableye’s feet and murmuring reassurances.

Tobias rolls his eyes. “Nia, watch your own paws!”

It’s a clumsy effort, but the two of them manage to slide down the boat in fits and starts. Beck drifts closer and Tobias holds onto the boat so the floatzel can roll over onto his belly. Then all three of them climb atop his wet back—Tobias in front, with Nia and Carnelian behind.

“Everyone good?” Cordelia calls. She’s treading water easily, Cas perched on her back.

Irritation gnaws at Tobias as the croconaw takes charge, but he nods.

“Keep an eye out for ferals,” Cordelia adds. She swims forward to take the lead, but hesitates and glances at the quaxly over her shoulder, clearly not wanting him to be in the first line of defense.

Tobias takes their chance. He gives the thick orange fur below him two pats, before anyone else can try to take point. Beck hesitates, but eventually obeys, moving forward to lead the group down the corridor with a near-silent lap of water.

Aside from the gentle rush of the stream, the air is silent. It feels even more tense now that they’re in the dungeon proper.

Tobias leans back to murmur to Nia, “I’ll keep an eye on the water since I have sharper eyes. You take above.”

Nia nods.

Their group drifts down the corridor and around the corner. Halfway down the next hallway, the terrain slopes up to grassy, muddy land before dipping back into the water again. Looks like they’ll be traversing a dungeon of streams and islands.

Lovely.

When they reach land, Nia and Tobias slip off Beck's back to stand on their own feet. The ground underfoot is damp and sticky with mud between smooth river stones and long patches of lush grass. Tobias tries not to let his distaste with the damp environment show as he takes lead, Nia right behind him.

So far no ferals, but Tobias can see Nia’s ears twisting and turning to catch distant sounds out of the corner of his eye.

“What kind of Pokemon do you think we’ll run into here?” Nia whispers.

Beck answers from right behind them. “It’ll be the Pokemon who live near the river, right? So water types for sure. Otherwise, likely grass and bug. Normal. Some dark types.”

Tobias flicks his tail. Most of those types shouldn’t be an issue, but the water types could be a pain for him. He’ll have to watch out for them.

Once they reach the stream on the other side, the group wordlessly moves back into their previous formation. Tobias grudgingly climbs atop Beck’s back in front of Nia as they wait for Carnelian to scramble on behind them. The floatzel slips into the water, and Tobias hears Cordelia and Nori follow behind.

They don’t run into their first feral until they reach the next patch of land, luckily in the same room as the stairs. The staircase sits eerily in the corner of the room, cutting off into nothingness six or seven steps up. They’re made of wood like Cordelia’s boat, with chipping paint to match.

The feral standing in their way is a thwackey nearly twice their size. It screeches with blank white eyes when it sees them, then launches at their group with sharp fangs bared.

Tobias and Nia rush forward to intercept. Nia is faster, and ducks low to kick out a leg and topple the grass type into the dirt. Tobias takes the opportunity to engulf it in a cloud of embers. The thwackey screeches and skitters back on four legs.

Nia hesitates on her follow-up attack, probably caught up in her own head again. Not that Tobias can blame her this time—it’s hard to think that this thwackey was probably a regular Pokemon living their life just an hour ago, and now—

Not thinking about it.

The thwackey wipes embers out of its eyes and goes at Nia with fists swinging. Nia creates a staff of aura and blocks the attack with a grunt. Tobias takes the opening while it’s turned away to breathe a plume of fire onto his hands. Then he darts forward to slash at the thwackey’s back with heated claws. 1-2-3-4—

The thwackey cries out, stumbling. Before Nia and Tobias can attack again, the feral spins and crashes off through the foliage, down one of the dungeon's hallways.

Tobias huffs out a breath, snuffing his fire down to smoke. He glances at Nia to make sure she isn’t injured, then back at the rest of their crew.

Beck is blinking at them, halfway into a battle stance and clearly surprised. Cas' eyes are starry, and even Cordelia looks a bit impressed with them.

“Not bad,” the Croconaw says. “Guess you two are a bit tougher than you look.”

Tobias rolls his eyes despite the warmth spreading in his chest. “Yeah, yeah. Everyone just hold hands already so we can go to the next floor.”

Cordelia looks sour once he repeats the command and she realizes he’s serious. Only the explanation that they might lose each other warping to the next floor makes her acquiesce.

Tobias climbs the stairs first, Nia right behind him. When Tobias reaches the top creaky step, his stomach turns with vertigo and their surroundings shift. In a blink, they’ve warped to a location that is eerily similar but distinctly different in its layout.

Unfortunately, they also warp to a room that is almost entirely covered in water. Tobias lets out an embarrassing yelp as he falls under with a splash. The gentle current feels freezing against his hot skin, and the immediate wave of prickling pain knocks the breath from his lungs.

A strong arm scoops him up and out of the water before he can thrash for more than a second. In a whirl of movement, Tobias finds himself still drenched but out of the water. He cracks his eyes open, panting hard and shuddering through shocks of pain. His clenched hands hold onto thick, creamy fur.

“Tobias!” Nia coughs, seated atop Beck’s stomach as well and dripping audibly. “Are you all right?”

Tobias wipes his mouth with a shaky hand. Ugh. “Fantastic.”

Nia’s paw lands lightly on his shoulder, but even that touch feels overly sensitive and raw. He jerks away with a hiss and she whispers a string of apologies.

Tobias takes a moment to catch his breath and calm his pounding heart. As the water falls off his body, the painful burn on his skin starts to die down to a more manageable ache. Finally, he looks around.

Beck, lying on his back, is watching Tobias with concern. Nia, sitting next to him on the floatzel’s belly, wears a similar expression. Carnelian is shivering as far away as he can get on their makeshift raft, tipping his backpack to clear it of water.

Nori seems to have caught Ignatius before the torkoal could get similarly dunked. Cas is floating anxiously next to Cordelia in the water. Most everyone’s eyes are on Tobias, so he flushes and forces himself to sit up straight so he can look around.

They’re in a room filled with stream water, the surface finally calming down after their sudden entrance. Two hallways branch off on either side.

“Everyone all right?” Tobias rasps.

Cordelia arches a brow. “You’re asking us?”

Tobias takes that as affirmation and scowls down one hallway, then the other. There really isn’t any rhyme or reason to how he and Nia usually pick directions in dungeons, so he points Beck in the direction of the one he sees grasses poking out of farther down.

“We can wait here a moment for you to catch your breath,” Beck starts.

Tobias shakes his head. “We shouldn’t. It’s best to keep moving in a dungeon or we might get ambushed. I’m fine. Go.”

Beck’s gaze flicks to Nia. The riolu looks like she wants to agree with Beck, but Tobias gives her a hard look so she doesn’t argue.

Finally, Beck swims down the pointed direction. Cordelia and Nori follow quietly behind. When they reach land, Tobias gratefully stumbles onto the marshy ground. His limbs are still a bit shaky and his skin feels tight and uncomfortable, but he’s fine all in all.

A rustle ahead is their only warning before a new, bipedal green Pokemon shambles out of the grass, something oddly rhythmic to its steps. The lilypad atop its head and its bright pink beak tip Tobias off.

“Lombre,” he hisses, he and Nia moving into defensive stances. “Water and grass type.”

The lombre chitters aggressively when it sees them with its milky eyes. It lunges. Nia meets it head-on with a burst of aura, then dances out of range.

The lombre turns on Tobias and sucks in a breath, clearly about to spit out a water type move. Tobias braces to dodge.

They're interrupted by the sound of crashing water, and then a bright blue streak slams into the lombre and sends it rolling into the tall grass. Tobias blinks, stunned, as blue water splatters to the ground and Beck cuts off his aqua jet attack to land on four paws.

Beck glances at Tobias and opens his mouth to say something, but he's cut off by a bright green ball of energy as it shoots from the safety of the grass and hits him hard. The floatzel stumbles back into the wall of the dungeon, then slides down to the ground.

“Beck!” Nia calls, distraught.

Nori is already moving to Beck’s side, so Tobias decides she can handle that. He focuses back on the fight with the lombre, only to hear a startled squeak from behind him, near the back of their group.

He looks just in time to see a blue Pokemon—a tirtouga?—spitting attacks at Cordelia and Cas. Cas hides behind Cordelia as she turns on the tirtouga with a snarl.

“I got ‘em!” Nia shouts, using quick attack to flash past Tobias. She leaps out over the water, staff arcing high over her head, and Tobias has a good feeling she’s going to hit her mark.

Tobias turns back to his own fight as a water gun shoots from the grass, narrowly missing him. He growls. If his opponent is hiding, he should just burn the feral's cover to the ground. But lombre are half water type and the grass is probably too wet to catch, so—

Dragon rage it is.

Tobias sucks in a lungful of air and releases it in a stream of purple fire. The flames catch on the damp grass much easier than regular fire would, quickly scaring the lombre out.

Tobias takes his shot amidst the feral’s panic and shoots off another dragon rage. The lombre shrieks under the fresh onslaught. Tobias rushes forward and spins, slamming the feral into the dungeon wall with his tail.

Tobias pants in the ensuing quiet, watching the lombre for a moment to be sure it’s down. Then he looks behind him.

Nia is paddling through the stream back towards land, waterlogged but no worse for wear. Cordelia pulls her out. The little quaxly in her arms is clearly spooked but seems unharmed.

Nia hurries immediately to Beck’s side, kneeling across from Nori. “Is he all right?”

The floatzel groans at the sound of her voice, eyes fluttering open. His gaze is bleary and unfocused.

“Beck?” Nia prompts.

The floatzel closes his eyes, scrunching up his snout. “‘M fine, Hazel. Stop worrying. Where’re the kids?”

Nia stills. She stares at Beck with a stunned expression. “H-Hazel?”

“His mate,”  Nori says, watching the way Beck is blinking back to reality. “I suppose you do sound a bit like her.”

“His mate,” Nia murmurs, frowning. Tobias can tell that this info means something to her. The name Hazel is actually tickling something in the back of his mind, too, though he can't quite pin it down.

Cas escapes Cordelia’s protective hold and scampers to Beck’s side. “Are you okay, Beck?”

Something about the quaxly’s voice seems to clear Beck's mind. The floatzel shakes his head and slowly props himself up on his arms. He gives Cas a shaky smile. "I’m fine, dewdrop.”

“I’ll decide if you’re fine,” Nori says, pushing Beck back down with a webbed hand against his chest. “Follow my finger.”

Beck sighs but patiently follows her instructions as she checks for a concussion. Once she deems him safe to move, Beck climbs to his feet with a groan, using the shifting wall of mud and grasses to stand.

Good. He’s up. That means Tobias can chew him out.

“Beck.”

“Yeah?”

“What was that?!” Tobias snaps. “I told you to stay back and let us handle the fighting!”

Beck winces. “I…was worried about you facing a water type. Especially right after falling in.”

Tobias jerks an angry thumb over his shoulder.

Beck follows the gesture. Smoke is rising from the ashes of the large patch of grass Tobias just burned, purple embers still sparkling. The lombre is knocked out cold to the side.

“Riolu one-hit KO’d a tirtouga, too,” Cordelia laughs, glancing over her own shoulder to the water.

Beck blinks, then barks a laugh. “Well. Suppose I look a bit foolish right now.”

“…What.”

“You two said you could handle yourselves, and it looks like you were right. Sorry for doubting you.”

Nia beams. “That's all right! I know we’re not, uh...all that intimidating.”

"Speak for yourself," Tobias grumbles, rubbing at his face. Unsatisfied anger burns in his belly as all the wind leaves his sails. It doesn’t feel right to go on a tirade if the floatzel just…immediately apologizes. “Whatever. Just…don’t do it again.”

“Not planning to. That knock to the noggin hurt.”

“We should rethink how we travel,” Nori says, her quiet voice heavy enough to cut through their conversation. “If we continue this way, we have to worry about the back half of the group getting ambushed.”

“Yeah,” Nia agrees, frowning.

Tobias and Nia haven’t really taken many escort missions through dungeons—and especially not with a group this large—so they didn’t think about it beforehand, but…

“You’re right. We need a better formation,” Tobias says, crossing his arms. “Who here has experience fighting? Actual fighting, not just friendly spars.”

Nia, ridiculously, raises her paw. Tobias gives her a dry look until she lowers it again.

Cordelia snorts. “I can fight if I have to, but my first priority is keeping an eye on Cas and my crew.”

Tobias nods. “That works. Cas will stay in the middle of the group, so stick with him.”

Cas pouts but doesn’t argue.

“Nori and I are in decent shape, but we aren’t used to fighting often,” Beck says. “As you just saw.”

Ignatius puffs a wisp of smoke. “Hate to say it, but I’m probably as weak as Cas at my age.”

Tobias nods, looking between everyone and calculating. With Nia’s abysmal sense of direction, Tobias needs to be in the front of the group to direct them. But they do need someone to watch their backs, too, and Tobias trusts no one else but Nia for that. The most vulnerable members should be sandwiched in the middle when possible.

“In that case, I’ll take point. Nia, you take back. Cas, Cordelia, Ignatius and, uh…Carnelian. You all need to be in the middle. Beck and Nori, you flank me and Nia.”

“And when we’re in the water?” Beck asks.

Tobias hesitates.

“Well, we can’t do the same formation in the water,” Nia says, half to herself. She jumps when she realizes all eyes have turned to her. “C-Could we swap?  Have Ignatius rides with Tobias and Beck up front and Carnelian and I go to the back with Nori? That way we don’t have to rearrange much when we get to land.”

To Tobias’ surprise, no one questions the idea, seeming to agree with both of their judgment calls.

After checking that Beck is good to go, they form up. Nia takes the rear, giving Tobias a thumbs-up. Nori moves in front of her with a quiet comment that makes her smile. Carnelian shuffles nervously in front of them, clutching his backpack close. Then it’s Cordelia, the croconaw keeping little Cas right in front of her, then Ignatius. Finally, Beck stands right behind Tobias, the floatzel acting as a taller lookout. He gives him a nod, all his previous uncertainty with Tobias’ abilities seemingly gone.

Huh. Tobias feels kind of proud about how well that went. He’s still uneasy about how large of a group they’re leading through, but they’ll just have to try their best and hope they make it out with minimal injuries.

“All right,” Tobias says, trying to sound more confident than he feels. “Let’s go.”

[jpitha]

Between The Black and Gray 11

First / Previous / Next

With the door shut, and the immediate danger passed, Fen collapsed in the airlock. Gord turned and touched her shoulder.

"Fen, we're not out of the woods yet. Come up to the Command Deck. We're leaving, and I could use your help."

Fen looked up at Gord, her face wet with tears. "What can I do Gord? I don't know the first thing about any of this. Ma-ren is.. is" Fen choked back the words.

Gord squatted down to Fen's level. "Fen. I am over three thousand years old. I have lost more people than you probably knew your entire life. I'm here to tell you that for one, it doesn't get easier. For two, life goes on. It doesn't feel like it can right now, like there's no way for the stars to keep moving or the station to keep turning, and yet, it does. That doesn't mean you'll forget her, it doesn't mean that you'll think about her any less. It means that one of your jobs now is to carry her memory. But that won't happen if Tam'itarr's goons kill us." Gord stood and held out his hand.

Fen looked up at him and sniffed. She took his hand and pulled herself up. "But, we're inside Spyglass, how can he get us?"

"Hey Gord? Traffic Control says I do not have authorization to leave, and to stand by for boarding."

Gord inclined his head. "That's how. Come on Fen." As they walked, he also spoke to Spyglass. "Pretend you didn't understand them, repeat the orders wrong, it doesn't matter. Delay them."

"I'll do my best Gord, but they still think I'm just a dumb ship. If I start lying, they'll suspect."

"Don't lie then. Just... bend the truth."

Fen followed Gord, bewildered. What was she going to do to help? How could she help? As they entered the Command Deck, Fen noticed that since they were in here last, Gord or Spyglass herself had cleaned up, things were dusted and bright and looked nearly new. Gord sat in the large chair in the middle and tapped at the screen on the arm. "Spy, how much printable mass did we wind up with before Tam'itarr decided to take things into his own hands?"

"About half, Gord. Enough to print bodies or reactor parts, but not both."

"And the second reactor he promised from that K'laxi?"

"Never delivered."

"Shit." Gord looked over at Fen. "We're running at a sixth of the power Spyglass had in her heyday, it's just us three, and none of us knows if the wormhole generator still works. Still up for a ride?"

Fen nodded. "I'm not going back." She thought for a moment and added. "Not without one of those huge rifles you were using before at least."

At that, Gord smiled. "We'll see what we can do."

While Gord worked out details with Spyglass, Fen leaned back in the chair. At least it was comfortable. She couldn't believe that Ma-ren was gone, just like that. In less time it took for her to breathe, she went from being her partner, her friend, her lover to... a body on the floor in the docking bay, gone. "Oh Ma" she whispered. "What am I going to do?" As she shut her eyes and wept, Fen heard a rhythmic banging. She opened her eyes and sat up. "Gord? Do you hear that?"

Gord stopped talking to Spyglass and cocked his ear. "Yeah, I do. Spy, are they trying to break in?"

"Looks like Gord, but they're just banging on the airlock door. They'll never get in that way. I was built to resist boarding it'll take a lot more than large hammers and chisels."

"Still, I don't like it. Let's cast off." Gord looked ahead to the large screen on the command deck. Right now it just showed the view out the front of the side and bottom of the station.

"Gord, the clamps aren't listening to me. They don't want to release."

"Attention Spyglass. Please do not attempt to leave. You have not been cleared for departure. Await boarding and further instructions."

"Station!" Fen shouted. "Spyglass can I stalk to Station?"

"Uh, sure, the mic is yours Fen." Spyglass sounded wary, but opened the line.

"Station! They killed Ma! They shot at her when we were running to get to Spyglass! We were so close and they just shot her in cold blood. She's gone Station, she's gone!" Fen's lip quivered and she took a shuddering breath. "They're going to try and kill me and probably Gord. They want Spyglass. Can you please let us leave?"

There was a long pause. "Fen, I-I-I can't, you have n-n-not been cleared for d-d-departure. Please s-s-s-stand by."

"Station! Please! I know you're sapient! You're not just a machine. You're not just a tool of Tam'itarr and the other gangsters. Please let us leave!"

"Fenchurch, I.. Fen, I." There was a loud bang, deep towards the rear of the ship.

"One of the rear clamps have disconnected." Spyglass announced. "We're not free yet."

Fen sighed. "Thank you Station. Can you disconnect the other clamps?"

This time, there was static on the line and a warbling clicking noise. Station was seemingly at war with itself.

Gord looked at Fen and then down at the screens and up at the main display. "Spy..."

"Yeah Gord. On your order."

"Do it."

"Do what?" Fen looked at Gord.

"Spyglass is going to disconnect the rest of the clamps herself. I was hoping that your friend Station could do it, but it appears they are being prevented from acting." Gord shrugged. "It gives away the fact that Spyglass is an AI, but they'd learn that sooner or later."

There were a series of bangs running from the back to the front of the Starjumper after Gord explained things. Then a lurch, and Fen felt pulled into her seat as Spyglass' gravity generators took over. "Why do I feel so heavy?"

Gord looked over, and snapped his finger in recognition. "Oh that's right, you were born and raised on a Gren station. The Gren's homeworld is lighter than Earth. Their gravity is about three quarters Earth. Spyglass, being human built has her gravity generators set to Earth standard. You'll get used to it soon enough."

"Gord? Station is still out of sorts and I think is telling me that we have ships incoming."

Gord looked up sharply. "From the Gate?"

"No, looks like local authorities. Though knowing what we know, it's probably just Tam'itarr's goons again, or some other gangster."

Gord tipped his head down and put his palm on his forehead. "Any weapons?"

"On them, or us?"

"Either."

"Uh, I think they have some missiles, but they don't seem to be very large, and I could manage one laser battery, or thrusters, but not both."

"Shit. Okay." He turned toward Fen. "Any ideas?"

Fen blinked. "You're asking me?"

Gord nodded. "Sure. You know Tam'itarr better than either of us. What do you think would get him to back down?"

"Well, he already... shot Ma... so I don't know if I'm the right person to ask, but..." Fen took a deep breath and let it out. She did it again and slapped her own cheeks gently. "Spyglass, put me back on to Station."

"The line is hot Fen, whenever you're ready."

"Station, This is Fenchurch Millenny. Put me through to Tam'itarr."

"One moment please."

There were clicks and hisses on the line, and then Fen heard a familiar voice. "Fen! You would not believe how surprised I am to hear from you."

"Surprised that I'm still alive, Tam'itarr?" Fen's voice was venemous.

"We'll leave out the whys for now, Fen. My condolences on Ma-ren."

"Tam-" Fen took another breath. "Tam'itarr, you will call off your goons right this instant. I know that the 'local authorities' coming towards us are on your payroll."

"Coming towards- One moment please." There was a click, and a scratch. Gord raised an eyebrow but said nothing. When Tam'itarr returned, his voice was much more menacing. "Fen, those fellows are not mine. They're Penfenn's. He's... well to call him my boss would be incredibly gauche, but the definition will have to do for a human's understanding. If you've gotten Penfenn's attention, then there isn't anything I could - or would want - to do. Good luck, you'll need it."

"Holy shit. What have we gotten ourselves into." Gord shook his head. "Things haven't been this exciting for a century or more. Spy, you think that your wormhole generator will work? At least one more time?"

"To be honest Gord, I have no idea. I can feel it, it's online, but I don't think I've ever linked with only one reactor. I'll have to kill life support and gravity."

Gord shrugged. "It's just the two of us, you're large. I'm sure it'll be fine. Spyglass, I authorize you to route all necessary power to the wormhole generator. Please link us away when you are able."

"Aye Gord. Destination?"

"Hmm, we shouldn't go to human controlled space right now, and word will get out soon enough from here so we should stay away from the Gren. The Sefigans are nice enough, but they use that FlashWarp drive, I hate it. They won't have any reactor parts we can use." He looked up at Spyglass' camera. What about the Innari?"

"The Manganese breathers? You won't be able to go anywhere without a suit. Besides, they're afraid of humans."

"True, but their reactor tech is similar. I think we used to trade parts with them. I know there was a lot of knowledge transfer right after Contact."

"You're in charge Gord, just let me know."

Gord turned back to Fen. "What do you think? Wanna go meet some Manganese breathers?"

"Gord, I don't even know what that is, but sure. Anything to get away from here."

He made his right hand into a fist, all the fingers bunched tightly against his palm, except for the thumb, which stuck straight up. "Right on."

"What's that gesture, Gord?"

Gord blinked and looked down at his hand. "Oh, it's a thumb's up. Means like, positive acknowledgement. I forgot you wouldn't know it."

"Because I grew up on a Gren station, or because it's thousands of years old?" For the first time, Fen smiled slightly.

Spyglass laughed, startling Fen. "She's got you there, Gord."

Gord harrumphed and turned back to the screen, but his eyes were smiling. "Both can be true, you know. Spyglass, look for Habilamen in your database. I added some new addresses when we spoke."

"I have it Gord. Shunting power from life support and gravity to the wormhole generator. Please stand by."

A noise that Fen didn't realize she was hearing in the background ceased and the ship suddenly became much quieter. She felt her hands rise from her seat as the gravity left. She was able to notice a creaking and groaning that she didn't hear before. Fen was amazed at the realization that Starships made noise as they soared through space! She also heard another thing, sort of like the reactor noise, but more insistent, higher pitch.

"We are ready to link Gord, on your order."

"Please proceed Spyglass. Link us to Habilamen."

There was a flash of white and...

[inglorionamy-ammy]

Of Home and Haven (Ch3/6)

Chapter snippet:

“A friend, a fiancé,” She admires, “A decade of wander brings home a moment of wonder. Our girl has returned with a human, a wizard, a Waterdhavian. What odds, what joy!”

Gale’s eyes glimmer with her words. He returns, “One home, one haven. A journey of peril taught me a lesson in love. My heart is forever sated with a half-orc, a warrior, a woman of wonder. What luck, what bliss!”

Summary: A tender tale between an outlander barbarian and a scholarly wizard, navigating life, love, and belonging (aka. What "being together" means for them) in Waterdeep and beyond.

Pairing: Half-orc Barbarian F!Tav X Gale Mature

Word count: 2.9k

@senualothbrok: No.1 beta, muse, and cheerleader

AO3 link: Here

Chapter Two: Here

[Mud-wrestling scene with Gale. Surreal and absolutely delightful to write XD]

Realization dawns on Gale’s face, yet the shock does not diminish.

“Stand back,” you command.

In an instant your father leaps into the air, strong muscles powering him across the vast plain. Before he can dock you strike the Nyrulna at the ground. Thunder explodes under his feet, disrupting his landing. He rolls back and stares appreciatively. Interesting weapon.

You must keep him distanced from Gale. You know his game now, remembering what he taught you — ‘A worthy half-orc must be able to protect their mate’. The Nyrulna flies back. You charge forward.

With a push your trident thrusts towards his face. Tilting it with the axe’s haft, he leaps back and swings at your mid, his height giving him extra reach. You jump and explode the ground again, riding the force to leap back as he stumbles backwards.

He now realizes he must be close enough to hinder your movement and prevent those annoying blasts. He charges, and right when you are about to strike he twirlsinto mid-air to give a full swing of his axe. You are forced to block it with the shaft, but his strength combined with his added momentum sends a shock through you. He is even stronger than you remember. He must have been training harder than ever. For what?

Under the moonlight you see him clearly now. Your father’s face, rough with scars and wrinkles, long dreadlocks fully grayed. You suddenly realize what this means. You had always known this day would come, but it is still a shock that throws you. You are not ready.

Da’s irritated growl cuts through the revelation. Your distraction is punished by a sudden withdrawal of force. You tremble forward and are met with a tough headbutt, sending you concussed to the ground. He holds his axe high, ready for the final blow.

A trail of Magic Missiles hits him.

He pauses. You know your Da wouldn’t actually hurt you— he would hit the ground between your legs to announce his victory. But Gale doesn’t know that, and now that he has fired his first shot, your father will think he wants to join the game.

The massive barbarian slowly turns to look at the wizard, grin eerily wide. His thigh muscle flexes, ready for a leap. You must stop him —

A crisp note soars through the night like a breeze.

It ascends higher and higher and higher, then rains down into a melody, flooding the battlefield with harmony and peace, the sound of an ocarina. Da shakes his head with feigned annoyance, holding out a hand to pull you up. You produce a healing potion from your bag and throw it to the ground, restoring the health of you both.

He turns, then pauses. “COME.” He wiggles a finger in Gale’s direction. “HOME.”

----

The three of you traverse into the wood in silence, accompanied only by the sound of the ocarina. The landscape is familiar to you but not to Gale. Twisted oaks, blackened ashes, scrubbed pines. You don’t have to look at him to know that his face screams curiosity, yet something about the atmosphere has convinced him to delay his questions. You reach out to hold his hand, and he gratefully obliges with a little squeeze.

Suddenly, the dense trees open to a vast clearing. A humble hut stands in the middle. To its left there is a small, colorful garden, well-tended; to its right there is a training ground full of slaughtered dummies, pleading for maintenance. Behind it a gentle stream flows, the sound of a water wheel churning ever-present, intertwining with the guiding melody.

Abruptly the music stops, replaced by a chiming chuckle. A lady in white is sitting by the balcony, silvery hair tied into a braided bun, her elegance easily mistakable for an elf’s.

“ELENA,” Da calls. “SHE’S BACK.”

Emerald eyes, the same as yours, twinkle as you approach.

Your Ma stands and sets the instrument on the bench. “I know,” she sings warmly. “You two are so very loud.”

She then notices your joined hands, tracing her gaze to Gale. She tilts her head as she reads him, from his equipment to his outfit.

“A friend, a fiancé,” She admires, “A decade of wander brings home a moment of wonder. Our girl has returned with a human, a wizard, a Waterdhavian. What odds, what joy!”

Gale’s eyes glimmer with her words. He returns, “One home, one haven. A journey of peril taught me a lesson in love. My heart is forever sated with a half-orc, a warrior, a woman of wonder. What luck, what bliss!”

Your father grunts and walks away.

“Welcome, suitor,” she chortles, “Come in and make our acquaintance.”

----

The hut has always been your mother’s domain, since both you and your father prefer the outdoors. Absent for a decade, you now eye the interior anew. The place is decorated with tomes and artifacts your Da collected in his scavenging journeys. You used to think of it as an inadequate, almost apologetic, mimic of her past life. Now you are learning to see it as an act of care, a silent declaration of love. The room smells of…Gale? You stare at the sandalwood incense burning in the corner. Huh.

Gale navigates the space, eyes wide with awe. “This is an amazing collection! Mrs. Riversong, I am most impressed.” He then winces. “Oh, and please forgive my manners. I am Gale Dekarios, as you astutely deduced, a wizard from Waterdeep. And most recently, a professor at the Blackstaff Academy.”

“An esteemed institution.” She nods. “To a stranger, I am Mrs. Riversong. To you, I am Elena. Let us chat over tea, for I’m most curious about your shared tale, your ‘journey of peril’.”

As the two of you sit by the table, she knocks on the window. Outside, your Da is chopping up a wild boar he hunted. He looks at her. Your Ma taps four fingers on her chin twice, and he nods. A moment later he brings in freshly brewed tea for the four of you. He initially prepares to leave again, but she puts her palm on his forearm, and he relents and sits down.

Gale observes with vivid interest.

 “My dear,” she says to Da. “Aren’t you interested in knowing who has won our girl’s heart?”

She looks at you with a smile so bright that you almost turn away. You struggle to fight that. Her presence used to be a physical manifestation of a heritage so close yet too far, foreign, unattainable for someone with your face. But you are older now, and while you know this line of thinking is perhaps true, it’s still unfair to her.

Da grunts. “TA’V HAS MADE HER CHOICE. SHE FOUGHT FOR HIM.” He stares at Gale, who holds his gaze. “AND HE SEEMS NO COWARD OR FOOL.”

“In any case, a good story is most invigorating. Please, if you’ll indulge me.” She smiles, and Gale gladly begins his speech. It’s going to be a long night.

----

For five days you and Gale stay at your parent’s place, occupying your old room.

In daytime, you rise at dawn break to accompany your father as much as possible, to hunt, to duel, to scout. Together, you restore the training ground for him to destroy it again. You savor every moment, etching them into your memories, steeling yourself for the inevitable.

Gale on the other hand makes quick friends with your mother. Every evening, he shares stories about the chess games they played and the poems they wrote in your absence, over his home cooked Waterdhavian meals. You and your father scarcely speak, content with listening to their voices. You suddenly realize that with Gale’s company, spending time with your mother becomes much easier.

Perhaps she will be happy to stay in Waterdeep when the time comes.

----

One day, Gale finds you mud wrestling with your father. It has always been one of your favourite past times with Da. You treasure it now more than ever.

Gale watches as you pour oil on yourself, then cover yourself in dirt. With your father’s bark the match starts, and the two of you collide, seeking every gap to push, lock, and throw. You grunt and rumble as you try to pin your father’s shoulders to the ground, the pair of you tangling in the soil. It’s no easy task to take down a giant like him, especially when Gale’s attention on you is so distracting. His lips are slightly parted now, cheeks flushed, muscles carrying a tension that rival an actual contestant in the ring. You have to fight down a smirk.

Suddenly, Da taps your shoulder twice. You release him. He gawks at Gale, his head jerks.

Gale pauses for a second. “Wait, you want me to…?”

Da nods and stands up, signaling for Gale to take his place.

“Oh, I, uh, would never be so arrogant to imagine myself a worthy opponent to your daughter in such melee practice.”

Da rolls his eyes exasperatedly. He does so value his words, so you explain instead, “For fun, only if you want to.”

Now that you think of it, you do hope that he will take up the offer, and that is more likely to happen if you two are alone.

“Da.” You tilt your head.

Your father gives you a look, then leaves without a word.

After confirming that Da is out of earshot, Gale finally allows himself to approach you. He whispers lowly, “My love…you must know that while martial training is a fascinating art, I was rather in the mood for stimulation of, hm, an entirely different sort.” His fingers find the back of your hand, tracing its bulging veins, “Would you be so kind as to indulge me?”

You lose yourself in his desire for a while, his touch feather-light, tantalizing.

Then, you chuckle. “Take off your clothes.” He quickly obliges, and whines as you add, “Not the briefs. And tie up your hair.”

You pour oil into your palms, warm it up, then spread it across his skin, making him quiver. You step back to admire your work. His olive skin, his damp chest hair, and his softened torso, now glistening like yours under the warm afternoon sun as the shadows of the leaves flicker. He is so beautiful.

“Ta’V…” He sighs, half-lidded eyes glancing up to meet yours. You avoid looking at his groin.

“Come stretch.”

----

After ensuring his stiff body relaxes as much as possible, you lead him into the muddy ring, feet stepping to find a softer spot. As you do, you kneel and extend your hands to him.

“We are not standing?” He recalls your rounds with your father.

You shake your head. “Safer.” Then you add, “Your knees alright?”

He balances himself by your hands to slowly descend onto the spot you picked, visibly relieved when he finds the ground acceptable. “I suppose I can survive,” he laughs. “For a while.”

You decide to put him in a sitting position, one leg up and the other crossed over, while you kneel, facing him. You wipe the dirt on him and gesture for him to return the favor. For a while you two are in complete silence, just feeling each other’s bodies, listening to each other’s breath. You let his palm run over the back of your neck, your shoulder, your arm, while you do the same.

“This is all rather intimate,” he comments, then hushes again. Somehow it feels better to forfeit words.

You then signal him to follow your stance, knees open to shoulder length, toes on the ground, butt on your heels, hands in front of your chest.

“I will show you one move. You will end up on the ground,” you say, and he nods with anticipation.

So you reach for him, your left hand on his bicep while your right goes below his armpit to rest on his back. He instinctively mirrors you, his right arm extending forward — But swiftly your left arm snakes below and locks his elbow while your right grabs further, dragging him to your chest. As he falls, you step right and flip. His back hits the ground and you roll on top, silencing his surprised yelp with a kiss.

He pulls back for a quick inhale, clearly processing all the new sensations. The clear sky above his head, the sticky mud below his back and now in his hair, and the feeling of you, knotting with his form. An almost childlike wonder finds him, and he laughs, bright and loud and free, then leans back in to seal your lips tight.

----

“I didn’t know you are capable of not talking for so long,” you tease.

This is true. Your hour-long wrestling/hugging session consisted mostly of you two grunting, yelping, humming, and laughing. You read each other’s expressions, gestures, muscle tension, and heart beats. Everything but words.

“Hm. That might be the case.” He washes his hair, trying to untangle it in the river flow. “But I feel close to you, more than ever. Thank you for showing me that, for teaching me your language. Thank you for letting me into your world.”

The sincerity in his voice stirs something warm and urgent in you. You decide to press up against him, your hand slipping between his legs as you nibble on his neck, a long overdue action. He leans back with a contented sigh.

There is something so tranquil, so safe, about the moment that makes you dare to try to become something more than your old self. You confess, “Before you, I never did this. I never made lovethe way you do.”

“What was your way then?” A question, but he already knows the answer.

“I fucked.” You bite him, then lick the mark soothingly, and are rewarded with a gasp. “So hard that I forgot even my own name. I rode like I had nothing to lose, or like I had lost everything. Many times, I nearly wrecked my partners, or let them wreck me.”

He goes quiet, so you continue your maneuver, making pilgrimages to all his sensitive spots.

After a while, he asks, “Is that desirable?”

You consider this. Then it dawns on you.

“Yes. I think I enjoy both. If it is with you.”

A sharp inhale. Gale turns towards you, his cheeks already reddened from your efforts, and he gestures to you to follow him. Climbing out of the river, he fumbles through his clothes and produces a healing potion, a lopsided grin on his face as he reclines.

“In that case, my love,” he murmurs. “Come and do your worst.”

He is ambitious, after all.

----

Later that evening, you carry Gale back to the small squeaky bed that you two share. He passed out at the end of your hours-long copulation, in which you had claimed every inch of each other’s bodies on every surface you could reach. The sun was setting by the time you two were done with each other.

You tuck him in as he mutters something in his deep slumber. You think he has needed this for a long time, not just from all the exercisesyou two shared today, but from the past few months in general. Between all the socializing, planning, researching, and teaching, he deserves a full rest finally.

You did share the healing potion, but mostly for his knees and all the little scratches the pair of you managed to collect during your merrymaking. They were pinches, sharp enough to feel but small enough to ignore, since you both had more important tasks to do. Muscles will indeed be sore the next day, though you hope he will enjoy the aches as a reminder of your shared passion. You certainly do.

He’s still frowning, as such is his default expression. A man always lost in thoughts. You kiss him between his brows to smooth it out, and he relaxes a bit.

With that done, you steal a last glance and leave the room in darkness.

----

When you approach the living room, your parents are sitting by the unlit fireplace. Ma is reading and Da snoozing, their fingers intertwined. You watch for a moment, stitching the sight into your heart. You wonder if Ma has done the same.

Then you head to the kitchen and prepare the stove. Da wakes up and frowns.

You point upstairs. He snorts. Ma closes her tome, stands up and announces with a clap, “Well, let’s assume our duties then?”

----

You are stir-frying the deer meat as Ma chops celery next to you. She is humming a melody.

You suddenly feel an urge. “Ma.”

She looks up in surprise.

“How was your day?” you ask.

Her smile is so wide it occupies her whole face. Da raises an eyebrow in amusement. You roll your eyes at him.

“Oh, I’m so very glad you asked. It was indeed jolly wonderful!” And she goes on to tell you every little detail about her gardening adventure.

“But enough about me. My dear, I haven’t seen you in ten years!” she exclaims. “How about your life?”

You smile. Talking has never been your strong suit, and she has long since learnt your ways. But now, with newfound confidence, you decide to push through it. You tell her about your life as a mercenary, the resulting tadpole-kidnapping, and your time in Waterdeep. You try to describe your feelings along the way, knowing that it will please her to know more about you. At the end of your narrative, your parents both fall silent.

“My girl,” she finally says, her eyes glistening. “We are so happy for you.”

You will forever cherish this, the last night at your parents’ place.

TBC

----

I don't actually know how to wrestle I was just horny.

According to DnD lore half-orcs are known to enjoy wrestling, and I was particularly inspired by this video.

As Senua puts it, very intimate, very different from spell-casting, and we both think Gale would absolutely be intrigued. And who doesn't love a curious rizzard who's willing to learn about his partner's culture?

As always, thank you for reading :) Let me know what you think!

Next chapter: companions gathering, wedding, and more!

[julianaspringer]

Exterior Wood Ideas for a substantial craftsman-style, two-story, wood exterior renovation with a shingle roof

[peavhyshy]

- PART II (IS THIS HAPPINESS?)

Pairing: Rafe Cameron x Heyward!Reader

Summary: In which Y/N anxiously accompanies John B and JJ as they break into a motel room.

Warnings: strong language, underage drinking, death, near drowning, guns, mild violence, and sexually suggestive comments

Words: 5,249

author's note: yeah they finally get to interact, i didn't think I would put out another part this quickly but hey? this is only time I have ever been productive in life, this chapter is a little bit longer, so sorry idk if that's a good thing or a bad thing

(not proofread)

Series Masterlist

𝗣𝗔𝗥𝗧 II

act one, two

❝Guns are not toys to play with!❞

The boat creaks and groans against the dock, wedging itself between Coast Guard cruisers. John B leaps onto the weathered planks, the old wood moaning under his footsteps. The others follow, their shoes thudding dully on the gray dock speckled with barnacles and seagull droppings. Overhead, gulls shriek and circle, their cries piercing the salty ocean air.  

The group trudges down the dock, passing bait shops and tourist stores, the smell of fried food and sunscreen mingling with the briny scent of the sea. At the end, a dilapidated building sags wearily, its white paint peeled and flaking. Stepping through the crooked door into the Coast Guard station, they're met with chaos. 

Inside, the air hangs hot and stale, filled with the tang of sweat. The power is out and the cramped space swelters, noisy with shouting and shoving in the dark. A large fan sits useless in the corner, blades still. At the front counter, a single harried seaman in a sweat-stained uniform tries to juggle a crackling walkie talkie and the growing line. 

"I understand, sir. But you'll need to wait your turn," he repeats, exasperated.

JJ steps up eagerly, shoes squeaking on the grimy tile floor. “Hey man, we’ve found a sunken boat offshore,” he announces over the din. 

John B raises his voice, competing with the noise. “You’re gonna wanna hear about this wreck we found!”

"Hey! Everyone calm down!" The seaman shouts, face flushed.

John B motions his friends toward the door, edging out of the chaotic scene.

Stepping into the glaring sunlight, Pope sighs heavily, shoulders slumped. "Well that went well," he grumbles, voice dripping sarcasm.  

JJ turns to John B expectantly, squinting in the bright light. "So what's the plan now?"

John B holds up the motel key retrieved from the sunken boat, metal catching the sunlight. "I know how we could find out who owns that boat," he says with a sly smile.

The group looks at the dull key, realizing what John B is suggesting.

Pope immediately dislikes the idea, anxiety furrowing his brow. "We don't know whose room that is. It could belong to anyone," he protests nervously, shifting his weight.  

JJ grabs the key from John B's hand, eyes glinting with mischief. "I'm in," he declares recklessly.  

You bite your lip uncertainly, clutching your arm. "I don't know guys, this feels wrong..." you say hesitantly. 

Kiara takes the key from JJ and heads toward the boat. "Come on, we'll just take a quick peek," she cajoles over her shoulder. "We'll be lookouts."

John B and JJ follow after her eagerly, feet pounding the dock. 

John B calls back to Pope encouragingly. "Finder's fee, dude. Just sayin'. You'll only be an accomplice."  

Pope hesitates, shoulders hunched anxiously. "Man..." he says, tone laced with doubt.

John B claps him on the back. "Come on, Bubba," he presses with a persuasive grin.

You look between Pope and the others, conflicted. "Should we really be doing this?" you ask in a small voice, fingers fidgeting with your shirt hem.

JJ throws a reckless arm around your shoulders. "It'll be an adventure, Y/N!" he persuades with a roguish wink, squeezing you against his side.  

You bite your lip, still looking unsure but allowing yourself to be led toward the boat with the others, converse scuffing the weathered planks.

The boat pulls into the rundown motel's algae-covered dock. The two story concrete building looks neglected, with a tilting sign and no power. 

JJ whistles as he surveys the crumbling place. "I thought the Château looked bad," he remarks, nose wrinkling at the mildew scent.  

John B shakes his head in disbelief. "This place is a shitshow," he declares bluntly.  

Kiara crinkles her nose in distaste. "Motel or meth lab?" she quips sarcastically, eyeing the boarded windows.

Pope grimaces at the depressing sight. "You be the judge," he says wryly.

John B frowns in confusion. “Doesn’t look like a place someone with a Grady White would stay, does it?” he questions doubtfully, scanning the dilapidated building.

Pope shakes his head adamantly, "No way. This looks like the kind of place someone with a Grady White would get killed," he asserts ominously.

John B takes a deep breath, psyching himself up. "Alright, here we go," he says determinedly. 

JJ puts on an announcer voice as he ties up the boat. "This is your captain speaking. HMS Pogue coming in for landing," he narrates dramatically with a grin. 

John B hops out onto the pitted concrete dock and waits for the others, shoulders tense. "Here goes nothing," he mutters under his breath.

"Hey. Don't let him do anything too stupid in there," Pope instructs John B pointing at JJ.

JJ grins mischievously as he steps onto the dock. "Oh we will," he says slyly with a wink.

"I'm not making any promises!"

Kiara turns to John B, brow furrowed in concern. "Uh, be careful," she urges sincerely, handing him the motel key. "I mean it."

John B smiles back affectionately. "Yeah, yeah," he chuckles lightly, brushing off her worry. 

Pope turns to you pleadingly. "Hey Y/N, go with them to be the voice of reason please," he implores.  

You look uncertain, biting your lip. "I don't know, Pope, maybe I should just stay here with you," you say hesitantly.  

He gives you an encouraging smile. "Come on, you're the most sensible one here. Make sure they don't get into too much trouble," he persuades.

You sigh but hop out onto the pitted dock. "Okay, I'll try," you reluctantly agree.  

John B waves eagerly for Kiara and JJ to follow him. "Let's go!" he says, heading for the building.

They head toward the motel rooms, footsteps echoing on the cracked concrete walkway. 

John B frowns at the moldy mattresses scattered around the overgrown courtyard. "Why are all these mattresses just dumped out here?"

JJ explains knowingly as he steps over them, "After a hurricane they ditch 'em 'cause they get moldy." 

John B and JJ stroll along the open breezeways checking room numbers, you trailing anxiously behind, hugging yourself nervously. Shingles and broken glass litter the ground from storm damage. The ice machine drips and sputters sadly in the corner.

JJ mockingly imitates Kiara from earlier, voice high-pitched. “‘Be careful, John B. Be sooooo careful.’ What was that about?”  

John B shrugs cluelessly, scanning the doors. “I don’t know. She just wants us to be careful I guess.”

JJ continues his sarcastic rant, gesturing dramatically. “Ever since she heard you might get exiled she's been all like, ‘Be soooo careful, John B!’” JJ runs his hand down John B's shoulder mockingly.

John B brushes him off, irritated. “Get off, man.”  

JJ waggles his eyebrows suggestively with a grin. ‘’ ‘Oh, give me that John D already’ Like when are you gonna swoop on that, bro?”  

John B shakes his head seriously. “You know the rule. No Pogue-on-Pogue macking,” he states firmly. 

They arrive at the right room number, peeling paint on the door. JJ glances at John B mischievously and then knocks loudly. No answer. JJ knocks again, louder. 

John B double checks the number. "This is it?" he confirms unsurely.  

JJ puts on a high pitched voice. "Housekeeping!" he calls out in a sing-song. 

John B takes a deep breath and slips the key in the lock, hesitating. 

He looks back at you and JJ uncertainly. "Should we try it?"

You bite your lip worriedly, arms wrapped around yourself. "You guys, I really don't think this is a good idea," you say anxiously. "We could get in a lot of trouble for this." 

JJ waves off your concern dismissively. "It'll be fine, Y/N. No one will ever know we were here," he insists confidently.

You furrow your brow, not convinced. "But we don't even know who this room belongs to. What if someone dangerous lives here?" you point out uneasily.  

JJ checks that the coast is clear. "It's abandoned, no one's here," he asserts. "No power, no security cameras. No one's gonna know."

You hesitate, chewing on your bottom lip uncertainly. "I don't know...I have a really bad feeling about this," you say quietly, hugging yourself tighter.

JJ throws a reckless arm around your shoulders. "Come on Y/N, live a little!" he urges with a squeeze. "It'll be an adventure."  

You still look incredibly anxious and unsure, shifting your weight from foot to foot nervously. But when John B turns the key in the lock, you reluctantly follow them inside, heart pounding.

They enter the dark motel room, closing the door behind them. JJ pulls back the heavy curtains, letting in a beam of hazy sunlight. The bed is neatly made, comforter straight and tight. Two worn duffel bags sit on the faded carpet.  

John B surveys the dim room. "Check the bags, see if there's a name on anything," he directs.  

JJ picks up one of the duffels, rifling through it noisily. "A jacket," he announces, holding it up. 

John B checks the other bag sitting on the bed. "Denim slides," he notes, sifting through the contents.

JJ examines the plain jacket closely. "No name though. It's a nice jacket though," he remarks.  

John B picks up a pair of generic sneakers. "New Balances, definitely someone over 50," he deduces confidently.

You wander around the stuffy room trailing your fingers along the battered furniture, uneasy. You pick up a framed ocean photo, studying it intently. 

"You know, I bet whoever stays here loves the water just like us," you muse thoughtfully. "Not just for surfing and partying, but feeling connected to nature."

JJ rolls his eyes as he noisily rummages through the bags. "Very deep Y/N, but we're trying to find out whose boat that was, not get in touch with our spiritual sides," he retorts sarcastically.  

You set the photo down carefully. "I'm just saying, they're real people just like us. Not just clues to unravel," you point out gently. 

JJ brushes you off, moving to the desk. You sigh, hovering near the door anxiously. You pick up a shell from the nightstand, admiring the smooth spiral shape.

On the desk, JJ finds a nautical map with coordinates penciled in. "Yo, check this out. Maybe it's where they were fishing," JJ suggests eagerly. 

John B studies the map, head tilted. "No, that's way off the continental shelf, really deep water. Nobody fishes there," he says knowledgably.

JJ shrugs. "Okay," he mutters, moving on disinterestedly. 

John B eyes the motel coffee maker and says mockingly in an accent, "Coffee!"

JJ picks up a box of tissues, snickering crudely. "Yeah, standard tissues for when you get lonely."

You frown disapprovingly at their juvenile comments but stay silent, shifting your weight anxiously.

John B opens the closet and freezes. Inside sits an in-room safe. He stares at it intently, mind racing. 

You notice his fixation. "Guys, I really think we should get out of here," you urge nervously. "We shouldn't be going through their stuff."

JJ waves off your concern dismissively. "Relax, we're just having some fun. What's the harm?"

You bite your lip fretfully. "I have a really bad feeling about this," you admit, voice small. "Can we please just go?"

JJ throws an arm around your shoulders cajolingly. "Oh come on Y/N, live a little!" he says with a grin. 

But you can't shake the uneasy, anxious pit in your stomach. You glance between John B and the safe, hoping they'll agree to leave before you all get into serious trouble.

John B looks up at you pleadingly. "We're so close to figuring out the mystery though," he argues. "Don't you want to know more about that sunken boat?"

You hesitate, conflicted. You don’t like this plan at all, but also don't want to disappoint your friends. "I guess..." you concede reluctantly. "But can we please just look quickly and get out of here?"

JJ claps excitedly, misinterpreting your apprehension for thrill. "That's the spirit Y/N/N!" 

John B kneels by the safe, punching in random number combinations.  

JJ scoffs from behind him. "Punching in shit randomly. Yeah that'll definitely work," he says sarcastically, rolling his eyes.

John B remembers the paper on the table. "Wait a sec, the coordinates," he mutters in realization. 

He grabs the paper and returns to the safe. Carefully he enters the numbers: 6-1-6-6-6. The lock clicks open and the light turns green!

JJ is still focused on the map, oblivious. "I don't know man, those coordinates don't make sense as a fishing spot," he rambles absently.

"Uh, JJ and Y/N?" John B interjects urgently. 

"Hm?" JJ responds distractedly, scanning the map.

John B motions him over in awe. "You're gonna want to see this."

JJ joins him in the closet doorway, eyes going wide at the stacks of cash inside. "No way, did you seriously just crack it??"

As JJ reaches eagerly for the money, he notices something else - a handgun tucked behind the cash. "Dude, dude, dude!" he exclaims, pulling it out excitedly to examine it.

You immediately recoil in fear. "Is that a gun??" you squeak anxiously, hugging yourself tightly. 

John B looks at JJ sternly. "You grabbed the gun, now put it back," he instructed firmly. 

But JJ is too enthralled, turning the gun over in his hands. "This is a SIG Sauer, man. A fucking expensive gatt!"

He caresses it lovingly. "Just...Bam! Bam!" he shouts, mimicking shooting. 

You shrink back further, eyes wide with alarm. "JJ, guns are dangerous, please be careful!" you plead worriedly. 

JJ playfully keeps it out of your reach. "Chill Y/N/N, I'm just messing around," he insists casually. 

You fix him with a stern, motherly look. "Guns are not toys, JJ," you scold seriously. "Put it down, now."

John B shakes his head at JJ’s reckless antics. "We are not stealing anything. Now put it back," he orders. 

JJ poses goofily with the gun. "Just take a pic of me first!"

John B looks at him incredulously. "You want incriminating evidence of this??" 

Before JJ can respond, pebbles suddenly clang against the window. John B rushes over to peek out cautiously and sees Pope and Kiara outside.

John B hisses urgently. "Cops." 

You gasp, hands flying to your mouth in panic. John B scans the room hurriedly.  

He points to the bathroom window. "Roof, now!" 

You all scramble desperately out the tiny bathroom window onto the roof, just as cops knock at the door. You huddle together on the narrow ledge, terrified of being caught. John B, you, and JJ balance precariously on either side of the window, holding your breath.

The old boat's engine rumbles as it chugs across the shimmering blue water. Pope grips the wheel tightly, focused on steering as the ocean breeze ruffles his hair. Beside him, John B leans back casually, feet up on the dashboard as he gazes out at the endless horizon. 

Up front, JJ sprawls lazily across the front deck, arms tucked behind his head. The sun glints off his blond hair and he squints against the bright rays. You sit near him, absentmindedly trailing your fingers through the cool water alongside the boat. Behind you both, Kiara perches on the edge of the boat as the wind whips through her dark curls.

JJ chuckles, a glint of mischief in his blue eyes. "Well that was fun," he remarks jokingly/

Kiara shoots him an exasperated look, eyebrows raised. "We would have warned you about the cops sooner if Pope wasn't so slow," she quips pointedly, glancing back at Pope.

JJ looks at Pope, surprised.  "You were on the math team?" he asks incredulously.

John B shakes his head, eyebrows furrowed as he still processes everything. "The cops took everything from that room like it was a crime scene," he explains.

Pope looks between them all anxiously, his brow furrowed with worry. "Did you guys actually find anything useful in there?" he questions hopefully, wanting the risky trip to be worthwhile.

JJ grins, the mischievous glint back in his eyes. "Did we find anything?" He pretends to think for a moment, hand on his chin. "No, I don't think so..." Then he whips out the gun and wad of cash with a dramatic flourish.

You gasp sharply, eyes wide with alarm. "JJ! Why would you take that stuff?" you exclaim.

Pope's eyes nearly bug out of his head at the sight of the gun and cash. "What the hell?! Why did you take that from a crime scene?" he exclaims in dismay, throwing his hands up in disbelief. 

JJ just shrugs casually, unfazed by Pope's shock. "Better than the cops having it," he defends matter-of-factly as he turns the gun over in his hands.

You shake your head anxiously, your hair wisping around your face in the breeze. "This is really serious, JJ. That gun and money could get us into a lot of trouble," you fret, imagining police interrogations and jail time.  

Pope grabs at his hair in frustration, looking between the others desperately. "I’m gonna lose my merit scholarship," he groans, imagining his academic dreams slipping away.

Oblivious to Pope's rising panic, JJ laughs lightly and throws a brotherly arm around Pope's tense shoulders. "Hey, hey, hey. Sh, sh, sh. sh, sh. At least you have us, right?" he says with an easy grin.

Pope shrugs him off, face scrunched in dismay. ‘’I am living in a nightmare,’’ he declares dramatically, dropping his head into his hands.

The pungent stench of death hits your nose as the group approaches the marina. A crowd of onlookers has gathered, their hushed murmurs hanging like a heavy fog in the still, humid air. Police flashlights dance across the weathered wooden docks as a bloated, waterlogged corpse is lifted onto a gurney.  

Lana Grubbs, tears staining her cheeks, pushes through the crowd desperately. She collapses to her knees with a piercing wail when she sees the swollen, discolored face of her husband, Scooter.

You gasp sharply, hands flying to cover your mouth in shock, eyes flooding with tears. "That poor woman," you whisper, voice cracking with empathy.  

The Pogues exchange uneasy looks, the reality of mortality sinking in. Pope wraps a protective, reassuring arm around you, feeling you tremble against him.

John B turns to a teenage girl nearby, her face lit up with morbid fascination. "Who is that?" he asks grimly, with a nod toward the corpse.

“Scooter Grubbs. He was out on his boat during the storm," she explains eagerly, thrilled to share information. 

She holds out her phone, her eyes glinting with twisted excitement. "Check out this pic I got of the dead body. Crazy, right?"  

Kiara recoils, lip curled in disgust. "Insane," she mutters.

John B just shakes his head, looking ill. "Holy shit," is all he can manage.

JJ steps closer, eyeing the scene curiously. "What kind of boat did he have?"  

"Somehow that dirtbag got a brand new Grady White. Everyone's looking for it now."

At this, the color drains from the Pogues' faces. They exchange panicked, guilt-ridden looks, the implications slowly dawning on them. 

"The sunken boat..." You whisper in horror, a cold sweat breaking out across your skin.  

Pope looks like he might pass out, the implication hitting him hard. You all exchange panicked, guilty looks, realizing you may have found Scooter Grubb's missing boat. You feel sick with anxiety, wrapping your arms around yourself tightly.

The hot mid-day sun beat down on the worn wooden porch where the Pogues gathered. The salty sea breeze provided little relief from the sweltering heat. JJ leaned against a post while Pope paced back and forth, beads of sweat dotting his furrowed brow. 

Kiara sat and you sat cross-legged on the swing, absentmindedly braiding strands of your hair as you pondered your predicament. Beside you, John B stood with his arms crossed, his gaze intense as he considered their options.  

Pope stopped his nervous pacing and spoke up, voice wavering. "Okay, um...we didn't see anything. We don't know anything. We need total amnesia about this," he urged, glancing around at each of them.

JJ nods in rare agreement. "Pope's right for once. Deny, deny, deny," he advises.

Kiara frowned, nose wrinkling in disapproval. "We can't keep that money, you guys," she argued vehemently.

JJ scoffed, rolling his eyes dramatically. "Not everybody can afford unlimited data plans, Kiara." 

Kiara pressed on earnestly, leaning forward on the swing. "We have to return it to Lana Grubbs, it's bad karma otherwise."

Pope nodded quickly, wiping his brow with the back of his hand. "Implicating ourselves in a felony is also bad karma," he pointed out worriedly.

JJ shrugged, unconcerned as always. "If keeping the money means going dark, I'm in."

Kiara reluctantly conceded with a small nod, shoulders slumping in defeat.

But John B spoke up firmly, a smile playing at his lips like he’d just solved a puzzle. "I don't agree."

They all turned to look at him in surprise. JJ questioned incredulously "What? Why not?"

John B began laying out his thinking, gesturing animatedly. "This is Scooter Grubbs we're talking about. Dude was always broke, begging for change. Then suddenly he has a $500k boat? How's a marina rat getting a Grady White?"

The others stared at him, contemplating his logic. Pope suggested lamely, "Prostitution?" 

John B shook his head decisively. "No aerial surveillance during the storm means they were smuggling contraband. I guarantee there's something illegal on that wreck," he declared confidently.

JJ's eyes lit up as understanding dawned on him. "They were straight up smugglin'!" 

John B nodded approvingly. "And I guarantee there's contraband still on that wreck."

JJ whooped excitedly, "Hell yeah! Fish on!"

You bit your lip nervously, brows knitted in concern. "Smuggling? That sounds really dangerous, you guys."

But Pope still looked uncertain, wringing his hands together anxiously. "If it belongs to smugglers, taking it is catastrophically stupid," he fretted.

Kiara brushes off Pope's concern casually. "Minor details," she says flippantly. 

Pope argues urgently, voice rising in pitch, "They could come after us!"

JJ waves the stolen money around cockily, fanning himself with the bills. "Stupid things turn out good sometimes," he smirks slyly. "We just need to get inside that cargo hold."

You twist your hands together nervously, stomach churning with anxiety. "Or we could just leave it all alone?" you suggest meekly. "Before we get into real trouble."

JJ throws an arm around your shoulder cajolingly, jostling you playfully. "It'll be an adventure, Y/N! Don't you trust us?" 

You bite your lip, looking between all their expectant faces. The reckless plan makes you incredibly anxious, but you don’t want to let your friends down either. 

JJ continues casually, "Until then, we just lay low. Just act normal." He punctuates this with an easy smile.

"And how do you do that?" Pope asks dubiously.

Kiara offers tentatively, "Kegger?"

The boys all nod and murmur in approval, already distracted by the idea of a party. You perk up a bit at the thought of a normal teenage party. At least that seemed safer than ransacking a smuggler's ship. Some socializing might help calm your nerves after everything that's happened.

The sun sank low over the ocean horizon as the Pogues lugged a heavy keg down the worn wooden steps to the beach. JJ eagerly manned the tap, filling red solo cups with foamy beer and handing them out. Laughter echoed across the sand as the group relaxed and unwound from the day's stresses. 

Nearby, raucous shouts drew their attention to a group of Kooks heading their way. At the front strode Sarah Cameron, her blonde hair glowing golden in the sunset. She made a beeline for a large red buoy and climbed up as her friends cheered her on.

You sat off to the side in the soft sand, nibbling your lip anxiously. Your floral sundress billowed gently in the ocean breeze, contrasting sharply with the trendy clothes of the Kooks. 

JJ sauntered over and pressed a beer into your hands with a wink. "Here ya go Y/N, try and relax," he said breezily. 

You managed a small, uneasy smile in return. "Thanks JJ," you replied softly, not used to drinking. You took a tentative sip of the bitter liquid, trying to calm your nerves.

The raucous party quickly overwhelmed you. The pulsing music and drunken antics of the crowd made you shrink into yourself. Slipping away unnoticed, you wandered further down the lonely beach.

In the distance you spotted a lone figure sitting in the sand. Drawing nearer, you realized with a start it was Rafe Cameron. You froze, unsure whether to turn back. But Rafe had already seen you. 

"Well well, if it isn't little Bambi straying from her pack," he called out mockingly. 

You shifted your weight from foot to foot, anxious under his scrutiny. "Oh, um, hey Rafe," you managed softly.

Rafe's eyes traveled over you slowly, making you tug self-consciously at your sundress. "C'mere," he commanded, patting the sand beside him. You obediently went over and perched cautiously on the very edge.

Rafe shook his head, smirking arrogantly. "You need to loosen up, princess. Have a drink," he insisted, shoving his flask toward you.

You eyed it uncertainly, nervous to be alone with him. "No that's okay, I should probably get back..." you trailed off as he pressed the flask firmly into your hand.

The night was alive with the distant hum of the ocean, the scent of salt air mingling with the sharp tang of whiskey. Rafe, his eyes glimmering under the moon's glow, held out a flask, his eyebrow cocked in a teasing dare. "Don't be a buzzkill. One sip," he cajoled. 

Reluctantly, you took the flask, its metal cool and slightly gritty from the sand. You took a hesitant sip and immediately recoiled, the harsh taste pricking your senses like a thorny vine.

Rafe's smirk widened, like a cat, as you handed back the flask. In a subtle movement, he shifted closer, his shoulder now brushing against yours. A tingle shot through you at the contact, causing you to stiffen. However, you didn't move away.

"You're too good for those loser Pogues, you know," Rafe remarked, his tone casual. Yet there was a certain intensity in his gaze, as if he was studying every detail of your face. "You should be hanging around me at the country club instead.." 

You merely shrugged, your eyes fixed on the sand beneath you, glistening under the starlight. However, Rafe wasn't ready to let you off the hook so easily. He tilted your chin upwards with a firm yet gentle touch, forcing you to meet his gaze.

"I mean it. You're wasted on them, princess. You belong with the Kooks on the winning team," he insisted. Your heart pounded in your chest, his proximity causing your pulse to quicken. "I-I don't know, they're my friends and my brother," you stammered, your voice barely audible over the gentle crash of the waves.

Rafe snorted dismissively. "Friends? They're holding you back, princess. You deserve better company."

His shoulder pressed against yours again as he leaned in closer. "Stick with me and I'll show you a good time," his voice dropped to a murmur, the suggestion hanging in the air.

You tensed, your cheeks warming slightly under his gaze. "I-I should get back to them actually..." you stammered, starting to rise. But Rafe was quicker. He grabbed your wrist with a firm grip, preventing you from leaving.

"Don't run off just yet. I want to get to know you better," he said, a roguish smile playing on his lips. 

After a moment's hesitation, you slowly sat back down, although you kept your gaze firmly on the sand.

Rafe shook his head, a look of disapproval crossing his handsome features. "They don't deserve you, Y/N," he argued. "Bunch of broke deadbeats and posers."

You frowned, your brows knitting together in confusion. "But I'm a Pogue too," you pointed out. "You always talk bad about us but want me around?"

He shrugged, seemingly unbothered by the contradiction. "You're different. I like you," he said bluntly, his fingers lightly brushing against your cheek.

"You and me...we'd be unstoppable together," he murmured, his voice low and persuasive. "Think about it."

His fingers deftly swept a loose strand of hair behind your ear, the intimate gesture causing your skin to prickle. A shiver danced down your spine, a silent testament to his touch.

As Rafe leaned in, your heartbeat thundered, echoing the rhythm of the crashing waves nearby. You turned your head subtly, his lips brushing your cheek instead of finding their intended target.

An unabashed grin spread across Rafe's face. His fingers combed through your hair gently as he murmured, "Playing hard to get? I like a challenge."

His hand found your chin, tilting your face towards his with a commanding gentleness. Before you could react, his lips claimed yours in a sudden, bruising kiss, the taste of sea salt and whiskey intoxicating.

You pulled back, eyes wide in surprise, heart pounding wildly. His smirk, arrogant and satisfied, only added to your disorientation.

Muttering an excuse, you fled from the scene, your footprints scarring the untouched sand as you raced back to your friends.

You freeze in alarm as JJ pulls out a gun and holds it to Topper's head, stopping him from drowning John B.

JJ's hand shook as he raised the gun towards the star-studded sky, adrenaline etched onto his face. "Okay, everyone listen up! Get the hell off our side of the island!" he yelled aggressively, his voice ricocheting off the nearby dunes.

With a deafening blast, the gun discharged. The crowd scattered, their screams carried away by the wind. Sand flew into the air as they sprinted down the beach, their shadows distorting under the moonlight.

In the ensuing pandemonium, Kiara turned to JJ and shoved him, her eyes blazing with fury. "Are you crazy?" she and Pope yelled in unison.

"You idiot!" Pope added, his voice echoing Kiara's sentiments.

"It's not worth it!" Kiara scolded, her anger palpable in the salty air.

Defensively, JJ shoved Pope, nearly causing him to stumble. "I'm saving his life, okay?" he retorted, his voice strained.

"You're gonna jeopardize everything, stupid!" Pope shot back, his hands tugging at his hair in frustration.

Meanwhile, John B staggered back into the surf, his breath coming in ragged gasps. He looked like a shipwreck survivor, battered by an unforgiving storm.

Ignoring the arguing trio, you rushed over to John B, your feet slipping in the sand. "Oh my god, are you okay?" you cried, your hands gently grasping his arm to help him upright. "What happened?"

‘’Topper tried to drown me.’’ John B says dazedly, still gasping for air, leaning on you for support.

You turn to JJ with tear-filled eyes, visibly distraught. "Why did you still have that gun on you? You could have killed someone!" you yell accusingly, your frame trembling.

JJ looks defensive, shoulders hunched. "I was trying to help, Y/N! He was drowning John B," he insists loudly, pointing down the beach at the retreating Kooks.

You shook your head, tears spilling down your cheeks. "The gun just made everything worse," you argued, your voice barely above a whisper.

Surveying the scene - JJ's defensive stance, Kiara and Pope's angry faces, and John B, still leaning heavily on you. Wrapping your arms tightly around John B, and you clung to him.

[violettduchess]

Perhaps I could request Silvio x Leyla + Colours of Sunrise? >:)

A/N: Here you go @lorei-writes! Thank you for your support of Leyla from the beginning!

This fic is a continuation of the Leyla x Silvio part of these OC Kiss Headcanons (I'll repost their part below)

An entry for my and Lorei's Sunshine and Starlight CC

WC: 2.6k

From the Headcanons:

The overcast sky matches the expression on Silvio’s face. He watches as the last of the crates are loaded onto Siren’s Call. Leyla’s ship. The one getting ready to leave the royal Benitoite port. “That’s the last one, Captain.” First Mate Kai clamps a large, reassuring hand on Leyla’s shoulder and she nods at him. He inclines his head towards Silvio, a begrudging sign of respect, before heading onto the gangway. The silence between Silvio and Leyla hangs as heavy as the gray clouds above. “I don’t get why you gotta go. You know I could–” Leyla cuts him off with a sharp shake of her head, her gold hoop earrings swaying with the movement. “I won’t be a kept woman. You know that.” She sighs heavily, brushing aside several wayward strands of hair that the wind has plucked free of her dark braid. Silvio’s fingers ache at the sight. He curls his hands into fists, fighting the burning need to touch her. “Besides,” she continues, “It’s not that long. Just a few months.” Her words are hollow with forced optimism. Silvio looks down at his boots, jaw clenched. “Fuck.” His voice is ragged. “Captain!” Kai’s deep baritone calls from the ship. “The tide!” “I know!” she barks back, her own voice scraped raw with emotion. Trying to ignore the vice squeezing her heart, she turns to Silvio. He lifts his head and in his eyes she sees all the words his mouth can’t form, all the storm clouds churning in his heart. At the same time they stumble towards each other. The kiss is messy and desperate, tinted with anger and sharp with longing. It’s Leyla who pulls away first, afraid she won’t be able to take a step towards her ship if she holds him a moment longer. “Good-bye.” He doesn’t answer. He can’t. He only watches as distance shrinks her figure, taking her away from him, with her kiss still lingering on his aching lips.

Colors of Sunrise: Red

Silvio leans on the ship’s railing, closing his eyes, the ones that match the color of the sea he is sailing swiftly across. The wind whips at his pale hair, makes a musical tinkling of his gold jewelry. It’s too dangerous, they had said. The storms around Ammolite are swallowing ships left and right. But Silvio had scoured Benitoite from end to end until he found a captain whose fear could be bought by enough gold coins. And so despite the danger, he is making his way ever closer. Even now as the sun begins its slow descent, it feels as if the ship is flying across the ocean…and still it doesn’t feel fast enough.

He is not a patient man. His ringed fingers grip the wood hard enough that his knuckles blanche. His muscles are tensed, energy coiled within him like a champagne cork that may pop at any moment. He breathes in deeply, the smell of salt water powerful and comforting. Every second that passes is another step closer, every gust of wind into the billowing white sails above presses the ship forward on its journey. Closer to seeing her again. 

She may not appreciate his rash decision. Their last real conversation, before the heart wrenching good-bye at the royal docks, was held under a sky streaked with the first rays of dawn, on the balcony off his royal bedroom. Gripping the balcony much like he is now, she had told him that she would write him when she was finished with her business on the tropical island of Ammolite. When he had demanded to know how long it would take, she had dropped her gaze, a pained expression on her face. “I don’t know. Months, probably.”

Not wanting to hear another word, he had pulled her into his arms and silenced her with his mouth, dragged her willingly back to his bed and kept her there, desperate to fill every last possible minute with the sound of her voice, the feel of her skin.

And then she had gone, leaving him pacing the palace like a wild dog, frenzied with longing, mad with missing her. Weeks went by without word, and those weeks grew into agonizing months until one day, the answer hit him, plain as day.

She may be tied to a single place for a while. But he wasn’t.

He would make sure he wasn’t.

And that revelation has lead him to this moment in time, right now, to the railing of a ship known for its reckless crew, greedy captain and record-breaking speed, rushing across the turbulent sea to find her.

Leyla tries hard to concentrate as the guild leader drones on, his monotone voice lulling her brain into stagnancy and she finds herself desperately wanting to close her eyes and sleep. She shifts in the wooden chair, wondering how the others are still awake. Kai’s eyes are heavy-lidded and one of the shipwrights has literally slumped down in his chair, chin touching his chest. If only her ship hadn’t been so damaged. Siren’s Call had gotten them to Ammolite but just barely. A wild storm had raked its claws across her hull, sunk its teeth into her sails and damaged her so badly that weeks of repair were needed. And that particular storm had only heralded the beginning of the stormy season. Leyla had hoped to leave the tropical island before the season really began in earnest but it seems fate had had different plans. 

“And unless there is any other further business–” Thank fuck, he’s finally done.

Leyla leaps up from her seat. “Nope, that all sounded great. The guild is doing a fantastic job. Nothing more to discuss today. See ya.” She yanks Kai by his massive arm, jerking him awake and pulls him out of the meeting room, through the double doors of the government building and into the fading light of evening.

“My God, he loves the sound of his own voice.”

The main street market is slowly winding down. Vendors are closing their stands, bundling up their wares. In the distance, the local pub’s doors swing open as it welcomes its first visitors. 

Her First Mate glances at the sky as they sidestep a man carrying a large basket of oranges on his head.

“He blathers on but his guild is doing a good job with the ship.”

They pause as they reach the beginning of the docks. Siren’s Call has been repaired enough to be in the water. The shipwrights have left for the day but Leyla’s keen eye spots where they have finished their work on the hull and what is still left to do on the mizzen mast.

Kai nods his bald head towards The Gray Gull which sits cozily at the edge of the docks. “You comin’ for a pint?” 

Leyla sighs. “Not tonight.” Her voice sounds soft and blue, a sad wind trailing its fingers listlessly across the water. Kai places a large hand on her shoulder, comfortingly.

“We’ll be able to leave soon, Captain.” 

“I know. I just….” She shifts her weight from one booted foot to the other. “I just really want to get back to–” She stops herself, clearing her throat. “Back to business as usual.”

Kai smiles knowingly, dark brown eyes amused. “Is that what we’re callin’ him now? Business?”

She shoots him a Look, pale blue eyes narrowed ever so slightly. “Oh shut it, you big sea slug.”

His baritone laugh barrels out of him like the deep clang of a gong. “Aye Aye, Captain.” He pats her shoulder once more before taking his leave.

His absence makes her aware of the ache in her chest, the one that she has been fighting ever since she left Benitoite all those months ago. It's a dim throbbing that hammers its way into her dreams, filling them with Silvio. Nightly, she sees his blue eyes and silvery hair. His slow, arrogant grin and sharp cheekbones that flush shockingly fast. His long fingers, bedecked in gold, and surprisingly coarse palms. 

People rush past her as another ship in the distance comes into view, heading for the harbor. It's likely looking for permission to dock. The commotion of readying a spot for the ship is enough to pull her out of her gloom.

Again she glances at her ship at the western end of the dock. She’ll sleep in her cabin tonight. Maybe being surrounded by the things that comfort her will help keep the sharp sting of her longing at bay.

Colors of Sunrise: Orange 

Silvio leaves the captain gleefully clutching his bags of coin, more coin than he has ever seen at once, his long legs taking him down the gangplank and onto the docks. Her ship is there, at the far end. Just the sight of it sends his heart thundering. He notices several shipwrights, wrapping their tools up carefully, tying down their workstations for the night. So her ship was damaged…..

He frowns, noticing the still damaged mizzen mast. Is she ok?

Turning, he hurries as fast as he can without running, towards the small town center. The markets are slowly closing down as sunset’s prologue begins, a darkening sky, a cooler wind. He ducks past a man carrying an enormous empty basket on his head and catches the scent of oranges before heading straight for the local boarding house.

Inside, he finds a woman with dark curls wrapped up in a colorful orange turban behind the desk. She welcomes him with a warm smile, her observant eyes immediately noticing his rich clothing, his fine jewelry. 

"Welcome, traveler. May I offer you-"

“I ain’t lookin’ for a room. I’m lookin’ for a woman.”

The proprietor raises her thick browns. “This isn’t that kind of establishment, Sir. You need to head to the other end of town for that kind of pleasure.”

“No…no that’s not…” Leyla is so close, he can feel it in his blood, the way it’s rushing through him like untamed rapids. He just has to find her. “The captain. Of the ship at the end of the docks. A woman with black hair and eyes kinda like the sky."

She shakes her head. “No, Sir. She hasn’t been in tonight. You could try The Gray Gull. I believe she often takes a drink with her crew in the evening.”

The woman’s face breaks into a warm smile, fondness glowing in her round cheeks. “Captain Quinn?”

Just her name has him leaning forward, gripping the edge of the counter, nodding eagerly as his gold earring sways in the warm lamplight.  “Where can I find her? She here?”

Silvio reaches into his vest pocket and pulls out another small bag of coins, dropping it with a thud onto the counter.

“Thanks for the help.”

He leaves the boarding house and its wide-eyed proprietor behind, determination pushing him along the dusty street, towards the tavern.

The sun is stretching its artistic muscles, streaking the darkening sky with bold reds and glowing oranges. It paints the underside of the clouds pink and outlines them in shimmering apricot. The cool wind tugs on the strands of her black hair playfully, as if enjoying the fact that she has released it from the prison of her tight braid. The armor of her daily clothing, the stiff jacket and leather pants, has been replaced by the soft, white linen of her nightgown, the luxurious midnight blue velvet and silver of her robe. Absently she runs her fingers over the sleeve, remembering when Silvio presented it to her, nearly throwing it at her in his hurry to be done with the embarrassingly sweet gesture of giving her a present, for no reason other than she once commented how cold it could get in her cabin at night. The deep blue reminds her of the Benitoite sea in the earliest hours of the morning, mysterious and beautiful, dark and inviting. 

She misses him. Her fingers curl into the velvet and her eyes close. She misses him so much and it hurts. Now, alone on her wounded ship, underneath a sky exploding with color, she allows the feeling to wash over her, giving the beast full reign of her thoughts. It tramples across the tender plains of her heart, its bellowing echoing in her mind. Not a day has gone by that she hasn’t thought of him, hasn’t tried to remember the feel of his kiss, the smell of his cologne, the strength of his arms as they pull her close. She even misses his snark, the flustered fluttering of his eyelashes, the hollow sound of his bark that contains no bite, not for her.

A hard lump forms in the back of her throat, a burning tangle of her yearning and regret and desire. Almost angrily she knuckles at her eyes, wiping away tears that have yet to fall.

All this fuss….just because she hasn’t seen him in a few months. 

Inside her chains rattle as she readies herself to capture the beast of her longing and conquer it, to hide it away in the shadows of her heart as she usually does. There’s no use in allowing it to continue its rampage. 

What good are tears? They won’t bring Silvio here.

Sighing, she squares her shoulders and turns from the ship’s railing.

Colors of Sunrise: Yellow

The tavern doors are flung open with a bang. Silvio barges in, scanning the room, his heart clamoring with impatience. It’s smokey inside and lit only by greasy orange oil lamps. Could she be–

“She’s on the ship.” A deep voice from behind has the prince jerking away and spinning around like a marionette in the hands of a startled puppeteer. Immediately he recognizes Kai. The large man raises a heavy tankard of ale to his lips and jerks his head towards the doors. His gold hoop earring glints in the warm light. “Go on then, yer Highness. Get outta here.”

The fact that the First Mate isn’t the least surprised to see him doesn’t even register until much later.

Silvio nods once and hurries out of the tavern, practically running as he heads towards the docks. The heels of his boots thud with every frenzied step across the wooden boards, battling with the sound of the waves as he rushes towards Siren’s Call. 

He’s close enough now to see a figure standing at her railings and his breath catches in his lungs.

She turns, and in that moment, the thought of watching her turn away, of watching her leave him, yet again, sends panic through his veins, like lightning cleaving his heart in half with its merciless heat.

Her name is torn from his throat, lobbed in despair towards her even as his legs bring him closer. 

“LEYLA!”

She freezes at the sound of her name as it cuts through the air, striking her heart like a flaming arrow. 

Could it be….

“Leyla!!”

Again her name.

And she knows that voice.

Spinning back around she sees him rushing towards the ship, his blue cloak with its Dalmatian trim fluttering behind him like a wild phantom. 

In an instant she is flying towards the gangplank, bare feet barely touching the ground. Down the incline she soars, her heart hammering a riotous concert in her chest. 

She’s on the dock now, tearing towards him as he bolts towards her, two hurricanes in motion. 

And then they crash into one another, a tangle of arms and lips and grasping hands. 

He’s here, her heart sings, he’s really here. 

She pushes her fingers into the pale radiance of his hair, curls them into its soft strands. He holds her in arms, crushes her against him like a vice as he kisses her over and over and over and over, a drowning man finally given air. She meets him, stroke for stroke, gasping as she drinks her fill, as the cool taste of his mouth soothes the scorched earth of his absence. 

Above them the sky is golden, the sun’s final masterpiece before it sinks to its rest.

Colors of Sunrise: Pink

“The sun’s coming up.”

Her voice is rough, hoarse with the evidence of last night’s pleasures. Behind her, Silvio buries his face into the dark waves of her hair, tightening his embrace. He never wants to get up, never wants to leave the comfort of her bed, the cocoon of her ship’s cabin. He never ever wants to let her go. His only vocal reply is a grunt which somehow makes Leyla laugh.

She shifts, maneuvering herself around within the circle of his arms. His eyes are closed but she knows he is awake. Leaning forward, she presses a chaste kiss to his chin, a cool raindrop of a kiss in comparison to last night’s storm.

“C’mon, sea pup, let’s go look at the sunrise. I feel like stretching my legs a bit.”

The Prince of Benitoite scowls as she wiggles away from his embrace. He jerks his head to move his hair out of his face as he pushes himself up in the bed. He leans back on his palms, watching with a mix of admiration, lust and regret as she finds her discarded nightgown on the carpet and pulls it over her bare body.

“I thought I stretched ‘em enough last night.”

She laughs, loudly and brightly, no false modesty here. Tying her velvet robe tightly around her middle, she leans down, catching his chin in her fingers and kisses him hard, murmuring, “That you did and maybe, if you come along without anymore growling, you’ll get a chance to do it again.”

He needs no more encouragement.

Now, they stand together at the ship’s railing, arms wrapped around each other’s waists as they watch the sun’s yellow rays caress the morning sky into blushing prettily in soft pinks and corals. 

Leyla sighs, leaning into Silvio’s body, reveling in the feel of him.

“I know I said it before but I still can’t believe you’re here." She shakes her head, watching the undulation of the water. "Fucking hell, Silvio, it was such a damn risky thing to do.”

His hand at her waist clenches.

“I knew I’d make it. Besides, missing you was takin’ up all the room in my head. I had to come before it drove me nuts.”

She grins slowly. “I guess I missed you too.”

His eyes flash as he looks down at her. “Whaddya mean...you guess?!”

She shrugs nonchalantly, enjoying the way indignation and annoyance are waging war with his desire to keep holding her. “I mean...you know.... if I think about it….you may have crossed my mind. Like, once or twice.”

"Why you......" Without warning, he scoops her up into his arms. “You’re in so much trouble, sea witch.” He marches back in the direction of her cabin, her delighted laughter ringing through the air, a compliment to the bright colors of a tropical sunrise.

Tagging: @alexxavicry @queengiuliettafirstlady @bellerose-arcana @thewitchofbooks @aria-chikage

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[puuuders]

In Pursuit of Something Better ~ Part 6

Ghost fanfiction

Previous | Next

~

Delta and Pebble complete chores together.

1.8k words

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During Secondo’s papacy, the ghouls were only let outside at certain times, much like dogs. Two, hour long intervals, once in the morning at 10 AM after breakfast, the second at 6 PM after dinner. More often than not, the ghouls would have to sacrifice this free time outdoors completing their chores, especially if these chores were in the garden, lake, or cemetery. This was another one of Secondo’s cruel entrapments: to refuse the ghouls to complete outdoor chores outside of outside time. And, of course, they would be punished for it if they failed to finish. Secondo’s favorite method of punishment was a spell titled Spiritus Privatio in the Grimoire, which essentially suffocated its victim to near death. Delta knew this all too well; being a water ghoul, it was especially torturous when he has had no prior experience of needing to hold his breath.

Delta was the one subjected to Secondo’s cruelty the most, having such a loose grip on his temper. He found himself collared in the basement multiple times a week, having lashed out at his Papa for one of his disgusting choices, or simply refusing to complete his duties as an act of rebellion. He was not necessarily in the wrong for his behavior, and Omega knew this, but the quintessence ghoul also knew that it was safer to stay silent. This moral disagreement between them sparked many fights, verbal and physical, tearing them apart from each other. The last time they embraced each other was the day Earth was banished. Earth and Delta were as thick as thieves, involved in each other’s lives almost to a fault.

One of the first things Terzo graciously granted the ghouls was two entire days off a week. Of course, they could not all have a day off at the same time apart from holidays that the ministry celebrated, which was also another gift from Terzo. He wanted to treat his ghouls and make them more comfortable, but work still needed to be done.

It was the second Wednesday of October, and a soft wind nipped at Delta’s cheeks. Wind bothered him more than his companion, Pebble, due to the fact that his skin was constantly producing a layer of water to keep it moist. Pebble was unaffected by pretty much any type of weather. Wednesdays were theirs and Alpha’s day of work, Alpha being assigned the task of washing dishes after mealtimes and Delta being assigned to clean the lake of any litter. Pebble had already finished his chores, which was tidying the many office and conference rooms of the ministry, so he tagged along with his friend.

“I shouldn’t have to do this in October,” Delta complained as they walked towards the lake, “it is too cold. I want to do the dishes.”

“If you told him that he might let you.” Pebble said. “I like the lake, I can do this by myself. Why don’t you-“

”I don’t want you to do it by yourself.”

”But you’re freezing.”

“I’m fine.”

The two made it to the dock, which Alpha had recently repaired a broken plank of. It was a completely different color than the rest of the muted brown wood, the new plank being almost merlot. Pebble immediately went for the trash can, tugging on the plastic bag. Delta picked up some litter further out on the dock, looking out at the gentle waves beneath the graying sky.

It was moments like these that made the water ghoul falter. He was suddenly thrusted back in time, sitting down at the edge of the dock some years ago, before Secondo. His head laid on the shoulder of Earth, tails intertwined from behind them, watching contently as the larger ghoul tossed dried corn out to the ducks that seemed to have indefinitely migrated recently.

”You can’t give ducks bread,” Earth would tell him every time they spent their time together like this, “it is bad for them.”

And Delta loved to hear it. He loved to hear Earth’s random tidbits of information, even when he had heard it plenty. Perhaps it was the way Earth would explain things to him without belittling and degrading him, making him feel intelligent for asking questions rather than stupid for not knowing the answers. Aero constantly made a show of how smart he was, only caring to speak to the other ghouls when it could prove his intellect. Alpha thought more with his emotions, something Delta could relate to, yet did not want to be part of. Omega was so judgemental, so paranoid about everything, it was impossible to have a conversation with him. Pebble was immature. Not stupid, but blissfully ignorant unless the truth was being dangled right in front of his nose. If Delta was being honest, he did not know what drew him to the ghoul so much. Perhaps it was nothing but the shared element between him and the one he lost.

He snapped out his thoughts as Pebble dragged the bag off of the dock. Delta sighed, looking down for a moment and then turning around to follow Pebble, picking up trash all around the lake. They made it halfway around, not finding much trash, before Pebble seemed to have read Delta's mind.

“Question.” Pebble spoke suddenly, startling Delta.

“Hm?” Delta didn't look at Pebble, continuing to watch his own feet step across the ground peppered with frost.

“What was Earth like?”

Delta's eyes widened beneath his mask, though he was not required to wear it in the ministry anymore. It was out of habit entirely, the shared quirk being the only thing he really had in common with the quintessence ghoul of the pack. His steps slowed in surprise, before returning to his previous pace, clasping his hands together behind his back.

“What do you wanna know that for?” He asked.

“You talk about him a lot,” Pebble said with a shrug of his shoulders, the trash bag thrown over his right one, “it's just weird not being the first earth ghoul when you guys are the first of your elements.”

Delta chuckled dryly, nodding. “Yeah. Earth was… Well I liked him a lot. ‘Til he did what he did, yeah. He was great. Don’t worry, you’re a good earth ghoul, if that’s why you’re thinking of that.”

“What happened?” Pebble tilted his head, looking up at Delta. Delta looked down at him, uncertainty in his eyes.

“What do you mean?” Delta asked. “You don’t know?”

Pebble shook his head. Delta hesitated before speaking, his breath a bit shaky.

“He uh… Did some pretty dumb things, I suppose.”

“Like?” Pebble pushed, lacking the emotional intelligence to understand Delta was uncomfortable. Delta wanted to tell him no, that he didn't want to talk about it. But it felt like the word ‘no’ vanished from his vocabulary when he spoke to Pebble.

“Apparently he made some kind of advancement on Secondo.” Delta sighed, hurt apparent in his now glistening eyes. “Secondo didn't like it. But… I don't understand.” Delta didn't realize he completely stopped walking, becoming enveloped in his thoughts and emotions. He began to raise his voice.

“He never rubbed me the wrong way like that. He was so clear about his relationship with me, at least with the other ghouls. I don't understand, why would he ever cheat on me with fucking Secondo? Someone I hate so much!”

Delta roared a pained growl, swinging his foot forward and kicking a nearby rock into the water in which he internally personified as his former partner. Pebble stood, frozen, watching Delta's meltdown. Delta dropped to crouch as the rock soared through the air, throwing his mask off and burying his face in his webbed hands as he began to sob. It was weeks worth of bottled emotion, Alpha constantly stuffing it in his mind that Earth was nothing to cry over, that Earth was disloyal, a liar, a hypocrite and a fake. Of course, Alpha said these things in a more gentle and empathetic tone, but the message was clear. Yet it did not make it any less confusing, he would never have any closure, any confirmed truth. Unless he went directly to Secondo, which he knew he would never. There would always be that weight in Delta's mind.

Pebble rubbed Delta's back in an attempt to comfort him, having dropped the trash bag and letting the contents spill onto the ground. His friend was more important than chores right now. Delta's skin greedily devoured each tear that streamed down his face, rehydrating his skin in a self sustaining cycle. It was fascinating for Pebble to watch.

“That is just how some people turn out to be,” Pebble offered, though he was not the most empathetic ghoul, “people lie.”

“It is so hard,” Delta choked out, “I don't understand, why would he lie? For Secondo? He was too smart for that!”

“You said Earth tried to sleep with Secondo?”

Delta nodded, clutching at his eternally wet gray hair. Pebble narrowed his eyes in thought.

“Secondo was probably lying then I bet.”

Delta sniffed, wiping his eyes, but his emotion was still very much present in his voice and expression.

“It wasn’t even Secondo who told me! Alpha did!” He gasped, his voice hoarse.

“How did Alpha know?”

“He was on laundry duty and said he walked in on Earth on his fucking knees in front of Secondo.”

“Damn.” Pebble murmured under his breath. He continued to rub Delta's back, his fingers climbing up to caress his damp hair.

“I can imagine how frustrating it is. But I think it’s better not knowing, yeah? At least I’d rather not know than see that.”

Delta nodded under Pebble’s gentle touch, the light scratching of his claws soothing him. His mind was still racing, and he did not necessarily agree with Pebble. Part of him didn't want to know, but the other wanted closure. If only he were a quintessence ghoul, so he could see Alpha’s memories for himself. But he was not. He was a measly water ghoul, face dripping onto the dying grass below him as his own tears overhydrated him.

“Omega-“ Delta choked, pushing himself up and clearing his throat as he pulled himself towards the trash on the ground, “where is Omega? Today, today… Today is Tuesday- no no, Wednesday. Megs is off!”

Delta began scooping the fallen trash into the white plastic bag, the webs between his fingers siding him in the process. Pebble helped, though he continued looking at Delta.

“Huh?”

“I’ll ask Omega to do it,” Delta smiled for once. “And it’s so easy to tell if Megs is lying.”

“You think he will?” Pebble smiled back. Delta shrugged dismissively, picked up the bag, almost dragging Pebble with it as he slung it over his shoulder and began walking urgently back to the building.