#i am fighting the land shark and struggling

[minty-trash]

GOD FUCKING FUCK THAT DAMN LAND SHARK

[feyhunter78]

Healer's Flight

Description: Your would-be assassin picked the wrong beach to ambush you on.

Reader is an immortal mutant with healing powers.

It’s a beautiful beach, one with pristine sands, and cool breezes, the scent of sea salt on the air, and clear waters reflecting the stars that dotted the night sky. You loved this beach, held its location safe within your chest, nestled beside your heart.

Loved, past tense, because now you were afraid, feet digging into the sand as you ran, heart pounding against your chest like a war drum. You veered towards the water, one foot landing in the surf, your heart taking flight, but then he caught you, yanking you back by your hair.

“I said, stop fucking running.” He growled, his grip on your hair tight, pulling at your scalp, as his arms wrapped around you.

“Let me go, you Nazi bitch.” You fought against him, trying to break free of his hold, but it was useless. This wasn’t a normal low-level assassin, this was an enhanced.

His grip tightened on you, squeezing like a vice grip, and you felt your lungs began to stutter, unable to draw in oxygen.

Tears began to roll down your face, dripping onto his bare arm.

“Don’t worry, it’ll be over soon.” He cooed mockingly.

“You’re a monster.” You choked out, nails clawing at his skin.

“Me? I’m not the mutant freak. I’m doing the world a favor by getting rid of you.”

You weren’t a threat to humans, you were a healer, all you did was lie low and try to help those who needed it. That’s all you had been doing for five hundred years.

“K’uk’ulkan.” You whimpered out, as your vision began to fade, hoping the gods would take mercy on you, and allow you a final vision of him before you died.

“Kool-la-what? Are you casting a spell on me, witch?” The assassin snarled, releasing his grip ever so slightly.

Your hand was free, and you gripped his arm, focusing on the spot where your skin connected.

He swore and dropped you, holding his arm close to his chest. There in the shape of your hand was decaying flesh, black and rotted.

You struggled to your knees, desperately sucking in air as your lungs seized. “Yes, I am.”

You weren’t, but he didn’t need to know that.

The assassin lunged at you, and you threw your body to the side, landing in the surf, hands glowing a bright gold.

You pushed the hair out of your face, tense and waiting for his next move, when you heard something whiz by you, then a solid thud. You looked up to see the assassin lying on his back, a spear imbedded in his chest.

Large warm hands pulled you to your feet. “In yakunaj, are you hurt?”

K’uk’ulkan’s low voice was a balm to your panicked mind, and your fingers found purchase in the bejeweled collar he wore, as you collapsed against him.

He scooped you up and brought you further onto the beach, settling on the sand with you in his lap. His hands smoothed back your wet hair, his eyes searching your face.

“I—my throat.” You coughed out, motioning to the mottled bruising that you were sure was already starting to appear.

He gently tilted your head up and hummed in displeasure. “He dared to put his hands upon you? I will throw his body to the sharks; I swear to you in reina.”

“They will fade, do not fret, my love.” You soothed, leaning into his touch.

K’uk’ulkan’s presence made you feel safe, as if no harm could befall you while he remained at your side.

“You are done with the surface world, they do not deserve you, and this has proved it.” He said firmly, his eyes narrowed at the corpse behind you.

“But there are people that need me.” You protested weakly, lightly running your fingers across your throat, speeding up your already enhanced healing ability.

He cupped your face, his warm brown eyes like amber flecked with gold, filled with sorrow. “They do not need you more than I do in yakunaj. I do not know what I would do if you were taken from me.”

You melted under his gaze, the fight draining from your body, leaving only exhaustion in its place. “But who am I if not a healer?”

“You will still be a healer, my people injure themselves often, they are like children, stumbling over every loose stone in their path.” He gave you a weary smile along with his promise.

You smiled back at him, carding your fingers through his thick hair. “That is not true, your people are fearsome warriors.”

K’uk’ulkan rested his forehead against yours. “What can I do to make you come home, and to stay? What must I give you to have my queen by my side?”

Your eyes fluttered closed as you basked in his warmth. It had been four hundred years of this, back and forth, stay or go, rule, or heal. You loved K’uk’ulkan more than anyone, anything, but you’d never been able to pry yourself from the grip of the surface world.

“You cannot buy my heart, you already have it.” You said, taking one of his hands and pressing it to your heart.

“But I do not. It sits in the hands of the surface dwellers, who crush it into a fine powder day after day, while I am helpless to watch.” His fingers curled, finding purchase in the fabric of your shirt, a desperate, pleading grasp.

“K’uk’ulkan…” You breathed, heartbreaking at the anguish in his voice.

“Y/N, you must return with me, if only so that I do not die of worry.” He pulled away and motioned to the corpse. “Look at what has happened, what if I had not been here—in yakunaj, you could have died.”

You bit the inside of your cheek. You were terrified, closer to death than you’d been in a long time. Maybe he was right, you could go with him, take care of his people, then return to the surface in a century or two and check on them.

“I will do it.” You said, closing your eyes, so he couldn’t see the tears of guilt welling up in them. How could you do this? Abandon all those who needed your help?

His thumbs wiped away the stray tears, and he brushed his lips across your forehead. “You will be happy there in reina, have faith in me.”

You looked up at him, bottom lip trembling. “I do, but…”

He shook his head. “No, but, do not let your mind run rampant as it tends to do. You owe the surface world nothing.” His voice was steady, as he leaned down and captured your lips, the warmth of him soothing your worries, and making your head pleasantly fuzzy.

You looped your arms around his neck, head tilting to the side, to deepen the kiss. He tasted of coconut and sea salt, his skilled tongue stroking yours in a way that sent shivers down your spine.

He kept you pressed against him as he stood, wrapping your legs around his waist as he walked into the surf, intent on keeping you safe forever.

Tag list: @nyctophilic0vitnir, @starlady66

[theredhairedmonkey]

Tempest Within

(inspired by watching Storm regain her powers)

The sky darkened as Aaravos, now in control of Callum's body, unleashed chaos upon the land. Lightning crackled ominously, and the wind howled with an otherworldly fury. In the physical world, Callum's friends watched in horror as the young mage's body moved with alien grace, wreaking havoc with powers beyond their comprehension.

Meanwhile, deep within the recesses of his own mind, Callum found himself in a shadowy landscape. Dark waters lapped at his feet, slowly rising. Before him stood a twisted version of himself - Dark Callum, a manifestation of his fears and doubts, corrupted by the lure of dark magic.

"Well, well," Dark Callum sneered, his voice dripping with contempt.

Callum tried to step back, but found himself rooted to the spot. From the murky waters, emerald-eyed snakes began to emerge, slithering towards him with predatory intent.

"You had to be the hero," Dark Callum continued, circling Callum like a shark. "Had to save Rayla, be above it all. Now look at you!"

The snakes began to coil around Callum's legs, their cold scales sending shivers up his spine. He struggled against their grip, but they only tightened further, slowly dragging him down into the rising waters.

Dark Callum leaned in close, his breath hot on Callum's ear. "Submit," he whispered. "Give in, and I'll let you live in some faraway corner of your mind. It's better than oblivion, isn't it?"

For a moment, Callum considered the offer. The fight seemed hopeless, the odds insurmountable. But as he began to let go, a quiet realization dawned on him. His eyes snapped open, a new determination burning within them.

"No," Callum said softly, his voice gaining strength. "Not today."

Dark Callum's smug expression faltered. "But you must!"

"Aaravos' power isn't what's keeping me here," Callum continued, his voice rising. "It's the lie. The lie that I am powerless and fragile. And I had believed it. But that's not true. It never was."

Dark Callum's composure cracked, fear creeping into his eyes. "Be warned," he hissed. "Be smart. Believe the lie. Submit to it. Deny your power, play dead, or the First Elves will come thundering down upon you and your kind like they did eons ago!"

But Callum was beyond fear now. Electricity began to crackle at his fingertips, the air around him charging with energy. A tempest began to swirl, lifting him from the grasp of the snakes.

"Then let them come, mere echoes of what I am," Callum declared, his voice booming like thunder. "If they are thunder, then I AM LIGHTNING!"

With a deafening crack, a bolt of lightning erupted from Callum's body. The snakes in the water writhed and disintegrated, and Dark Callum was obliterated into dust.

In the physical world, Callum's body suddenly went rigid. His eyes flew open, glowing with an intense, otherworldly light. With a roar that shook the very foundations of the earth, he broke free from Aaravos' control.

Callum's form dissolved into pure energy, a living bolt of lightning that shot into the upper atmosphere. He tore through layer upon layer of clouds, leaving a trail of ionized air in his wake.

From space, the stars watched as storm clouds across the entire globe began to coalesce, drawn to Callum's overwhelming power. In the eye of this worldwide tempest, Callum reintegrated himself.

He was transformed. Gone were his usual clothes, replaced by a flowing white-golden tunic and cape that rippled with ethereal energy. His eyes glowed with barely contained power, and atop his head sat the Corona of the Heavens.

With a thought, Callum began to fly. He streaked across the sky, a being of pure starlight, circling the globe several times in a matter of minutes. Each pass left a trail of shimmering aurora in his wake, a testament to his newfound power.

As he finally came to rest, hovering high above the world, Callum looked down at the lands below. The chaos Aaravos had wreaked seemed small now, a problem easily solved. But Callum knew that with great power came great responsibility. He had overcome the darkness within himself, but the real battle was just beginning.

[woltourney]

ROUND 1 / SIDE B / POLL 5

Kari (@karixiv) v. Zuveh'a Khulaa (@zuveha-xiv)

Kari:

q. What is your WoL name and pronouns? a. Kari she/her

q. What is your WoL's species? a. Aura

q. What is your WoL's class? Or classes? a. Reaper

q. What data centre/server are you on, if you want people to find you? a. Crystal

q. Tell us a bit about your WoL! a. Kari is an untrustworthy slimy little creature. She does things almost exclusively for her own benefit whether that is to chase a new battle high or to get much needed answers about her past. She is impulsive and chaotic with little regard for the rules, she became a hero purely because the goals of the scions aligned with her own and she stuck around because she loves chasing the highs of fighting newer bigger bosses. When she isn't saving the world or making it worse she is often in her sewing room making eccentric outfits to ensure she makes a lasting impression.

q. Why should YOU win? (Answer IC!) a. "Win? I don't want to WIN no no? I am just here for the carnage. It is my personal goal to be kicked to the ground by every hero so please vote me into the next round so I can battle them all, perhaps in the last round I will finally find my match and die in their arms with slight romantic undertones as they realized they killed their only equal and scream out in agony to the endless sky as a dramatic finale. Or perhaps not but you'll never know unless you vote me through"

q. Anything else you wanna add? a. she has shark teeth where my shark teeth enjoyers @

Zuveh'a Khulaa:

q. What is your WoL name and pronouns? a. Zuveh'a Khulaa - He/him (trans male)

q. What is your WoL's species? a. Keeper Miqo'te/Hrothgar (half and half)

q. What is your WoL's class? Or classes? a. Main: Warrior / Secondary: Scholar and Thaumaturge

q. What data centre/server are you on, if you want people to find you? a. Crystal Mateus!

q. Tell us a bit about your WoL! a. Zuveh'a is…a very scarred man, emotionally and physically, but he is healing with his support system that he finally has thankfully. He's more on a gruff and stoic side, but it's not terribly hard to see him smile, especially when around his family or you can manage to get on his soft side. His story deviates little from MSQ, except he is from Ul'dah, unlike the Canon WoL who is from another land, but the Scions do see his turn-around from pre-ARR and eventually offer him a place, even tho he's hesitant at first. He honestly does not find satisfaction in being a Hero sometimes, as he does personally like reward for whatever stupid struggles the common folk put him through. He was a sex worker and assassin before the Scions, after all. His free time is often spent at brothels, admittedly, or doing odd jobs for money.

q. Why should YOU win? (Answer IC!) a. "Because I'm sexy, why else?"

q. Anything else you wanna add? a. He has piercings on his lips, ears, and nipples :)c

[fantasy-anatomy-analyst]

(For context sake, this tail has its scales still on because it’s something that would be traded with other countries, such as ones further inland.)

This is just the tail in the photo, I’m still drawing the rest of the body, as well as the head. 

This, as the picture states, is the tail of a leviathan. Leviathan, unlike the one from the Book of Job from The Bible, is a sea creature whose population infests the waters of Hestania(the fantasy world I created). These beasts, as a juveniles, are as long as a public transportation bus, and weigh as much as a pickup truck, which is 7,000 pounds, while adults are as long as a colossal squid, with a couple meters to spare, and weigh up to 4 times the weight of the young, which is 28,000 pounds. Leviathan are titanic, and they have an appetite to match. They consume 8,000 pounds of food a day, consisting of any animal it can get its jaws on due to its carnivorous diet, such as sea turtles, sharks, dolphins,seals, sea birds, seals, any other creatures that live in the ocean that isn’t a crustacean, as well as exhibiting dolphin level intelligence, chasing large schools of fish into the nets of unsuspecting fishermen so that they can tear it away from their ship, earning their reputation as thieves, as well as their hatred by the fishing village . Due to a large population, as well as their massive stomachs, the fishing village developed a strategy to fight back against the gluttonous sea snake.

A fisherman goes to the middle of the ocean with a special lure to attract the leviathan. Once it charges, the fisherman immediately heads for shore. As soon as he is with the others, they prepare to face the beast head on, armed with yards of rope, nets, iron chains, as well as their bare hands and muscle power. Once the creature moves as far at it can go, the villagers waste no time in attempting to weaken the monster. The leviathan thrashes around, not unlike a fish struggling outside of a body of water, attempting to buck off anything off its back in order to turn tail and flee back into the water, where it would have the upper hand.It refuses to resign, even when the inevitable is approaching, and like a mad horse, the leviathan resorts to snapping its jaws at anything that approaches it, to no avail. Feigning defeat, the leviathan lays its head down, as if it was giving into dehydration. The crowed parts, the village chief hands a young boy a silvery harpoon, engraved leviathan scrimshaw handle depicting the defeat and banishment of Scytus, the wicked mother of sea serpents. The boy steps towards the beast, the faint smell of fear wafting off of him as he prepared to finish him off. Then, as soon as the young man raised the silvery barb, the leviathan attempted to embed its teeth at the boy’s stomach, only for it to be in vain as the boy slams a heel down on upon its jaws, driving the iron barb through its skull as the blade was piercing the seemingly invincible hide that wasn’t covered in an immense pattern of scales, its life snuffed out at last.

After the initial celebration of the young boy becoming a grown man, the carcass was stripped of its armor with special tools, its exposed belly split open by a skilled hand and blade, and the flesh was quickly stripped off the bones, enough to last the people for days. 

If prepared properly, leviathan flesh can be eaten raw, like tuna fish. If one were to consume it, they would expect the typical taste of sashimi, but it surprisingly tastes like chicken, with a hint of fish, tied together with the spices of various spices brought here by traders. 

(TLDR; A leviathan is a huge sea monster that is an ocean infestation that leads to the people living on the coast having trouble fishing, so they hunt leviathan by dragging it onto dry land to stab it in the head and strip the carcass for food and using the other parts like bones to craft things)

this is some really interesting world lore! i am assuming this is tied to the anonymous question about humanoid leviathans, so i'll get to that part when i answer that specific question, but i appreciate the extra lore.

you've spent a lot of time thinking out the world and how these creatures affect the cultures of the people that encounter them! Must be a pretty huge population of people if a grown leviathan only lasts days, I should think weeks is more accurate if they store it properly, longer if they dry it like jerky. or pickle it. pickled fish is a thing.

The bones and scales are also going to be very useful materials. They may even have a way to make leather from the skin of its guts (intestine leather is also a thing, though historically i think it's more commonly sheep intestines? still, in a world with a giant fish beast as a culturally important resource, they could make it work)

[sebeth]

The World Of Ice And Fire: The Aftermath of the Doom (Revised 12/15/22)

Warning, Spoilers Ahead…

  The dragonlords of Valyria were nearly wiped out in the Doom. Aenar Targaryan, thanks to forewarning from his daughter, Daeyns the Dreamer, had taken his children and dragons and fled to Dragonstone before the Doom.  Other dragonlords weren’t as fortunate.

Let’s be honest, the only one who liked the Valyrians were their fellow Valyrians. The Doom caused the destruction of their power base, and the death of their military and most of their dragons. Huge targets were painted on the back of the surviving Valyrians.

The citizens of Tyrosh and Lys killed the dragonlords that were in their cities. Dragonlords in other areas suffered the same fate.

“Dragonlords” implies the lords were in possession of dragons but that didn’t seem to stop Tyrosh, Lys, and other areas from killing them. Either these were wimpy dragons, or the respective cities felt the mass casualties would be worth it if the result was no more dragons – like the storming of the Dragonpit in the Dance of the Dragons.

The histories of Qohor claimed Aurion, a visiting dragonlord, raised forces from the Qohorik colonists and proclaimed himself the first Emperor of Valyria. Aurion led a 30,000 strong host to Valyria but neither he nor his host were heard from afterwards.

How long after the Doom did Aurion wait until he led his mission to reclaim Valyria? A mass volcanic destruction on that scale would take years to settle. As a dragonlord, shouldn’t Aurion have some idea of the creatures that reside in the Fourteen Flames – and that the eruptions would have freed them? What did he expect his ground forces to do once they arrived in Valyria? It wasn’t an opposing army that destroyed the Valyrian Freehold.  Qohor is some distance from Valyria so it’s possible Aurion didn’t know how the Freehold fell, only that it did. If GRRM was a faster writer, I wouldn’t mind a short story told from Aurion’s point of view to discover the reasoning behind his doomed expedition. And to see how quickly the poor foot soldiers were massacred by the fire wyrms, wyverns, etc.

Volantis, founded by Valyrians, decided to be the new Valyria, and attempt to conquer the Free Cities. Volantis had initial success – gaining control of Lys, Myr, and the southern reaches of the Rhoyne.  The party stopped when Pentos and Tyrosh allied to battle Volantis. Myrs and Lys rebelled.  The Sealord of Braavos sent a hundred ships to aid Lys. Argilac the Arrogant, a Westerosi Storm King, led a host into the Disputed Lands and defeated a Volantene host attempting to retake Myr. Remember Argilac’s name, he pops up later in the histories.

The struggles in the Disputed Lands led to the formation of the Free Companies – bands of sellswords who fight for whomever pays them.

Pentos and Tyrosh approached a young Aegon (not yet a conqueror) Targaryan to join their alliance against Volantis. And he agreed. Apparently, he didn’t have any residual loyalty towards his fellow Valyrians. Aegon met with the Prince of Pentos and the magisters of the Free City. Aegon flew Balerion the Black Dread to Lys and burned a fleet that was preparing to invade the city.

 Volantis’s luck contunied to worsen. The fire galleys of Qohor and Norvos destroyed most of the Volantine fleet on the Rhoyne. In the east, the Dothraki sensed Volantine weakness like a shark senses blood in the water. The Dothraki swarmed out of the Dothraki, leaving nothing but ruin and devastation in their wake.

Esso really went all-in on their “no more Valyrian overlords” response – even Westeros got in on the action. Like I said, the only ones who liked the Valyrians were the fellow Valyrians. I wonder if anyone has ever told Daenaerys and Faegon the history of the immediate aftermath of the Doom? Both have the same “I am the blood of old Valyria, the blood of the dragon, and therefore I am entitled to the throne, and the people are waiting/and will rejoice when I take it” but the history shows otherwise. The nations and the people will bend due to the threat of the dragons but as soon as weakness is exposed, the people revolt.

Daenerys is popular with the freed slaves and the underclass, but the non-slave areas of Essos aren’t welcoming her. And Westeros won’t either. She’s coming with three weapons of mass destruction and an army of Dothraki, Unsullied, and sellswords. Westeros is aware of the atrocities a dragon can inflict (the Field of Fire, Harrenhal, the Dance of the Dragons). What are the Dothraki known for - theft, rape, slavery, and murder. Daenerys, through no fault of her own, will also have to deal with the fallout of being the daughter of the Mad King and the rumors and horror stories that have preceded her arrival in Westeros – she killed her own brother, she bathes in the blood of virgins, etc.

Faegon may be initially popular if he replaces Cersei but that’s going to end as soon as the Dance of the Dragons, part 2 begins.

We know King’s Landing is going to burn – the most likely time is during Daenerys and Faegon’s clash. It’s only a matter of how: does Daenerys unleash the dragons in a controlled strike and accidentally hit the caches of wildfire? Does she lean into the “fire and blood” option that she embraces at the end of A Dance With Dragons and intentionally unleash the dragons on King’s Landing? Remember, Tyrion will be the devil on her shoulder, and he has an axe to grind with King’s Landing. If you’ve only watched the show, Tyrion is a completely different character in the book. Are does Cersei/Jon Connington light the wildfire in a desperate attempt to fight off Dany’s forces?  No matter who sets it off, Daenerys will get the blame. The wildfire under King’s Landing isn’t public knowledge. A few people know of it – mainly the Lannister siblings. If King’s Landing erupts in a firestorm, Westerosi will blame the dragons as that is the simple explanation.  Add in the rumor mill, not to mention the fearmongering efforts of Varys, Littlefinger and Cersei, and Daenerys’s reputation will be shot - instead of the “Breaker of Chains”, Westeros will see the “Mad King Version 2”.  

Back to the aftermath of the Doom…

Volantis itself underwent a power struggle. The Tigers – the faction who favored expansion and conquest – lost power to the elephants – a faction of tradesmen and merchant who favored peace. The elephants sued for peace and the wars were over.

Aegon Targaryen lost interest when peace ensued and returned to Dragonstone.

Aegon dropping Essos like a child bored with a toy intrigues me. His family had control of the few dragons left in the world. Essos was weakened by the wars. For someone who goes down in history as the Conqueror, Essos is easy pickings. So why did he take the “bored now, going home” option? Did he have his “A prince that was promised” vision while he was in Essos? If so, did he not think he would need the aid of Essos in the upcoming battle? Or did he simply want to ensure that no other Valyrian could threaten his family’s power and once that was accomplished, he went home.

Valyria remains a ruin to this day. The Fourteen Flames have turned into a Smoking Sea. The road that joins Volantis to Slaver’s Bay is known as the “demon road” and is avoided by sensible travelers.

Men who enter the Smoking Sea do not return. Volantis sent a fleet the claim the peninsula during the Century of Blood only for the fleet to vanish.

Rumors state men still live in the ruins of Valyria and its neighboring cities of Oros and Tyria. Most don’t believe the rumors and insist the Doom still infects Valyria.

A few cities on the outskirts of Valyria remain inhabited. In Mantarys, men are said to be born twisted and monstrous. Tolos, home of the finest slingers in the world, and Elyria are less sinister but have ties to the Ghiscari cities on Slaver’s Bay.

Based on a few minutes of research, it takes anywhere from two hundred to a thousand years for land to recover from a volcanic eruption. A single eruption. Now imagine the devastation of fourteen simultaneous volcanic eruptions. It’s been a little over three hundred years since the Doom and the land hasn’t even begun the recovery process. Add in fire wyrms and bad magical juju released in the eruptions and Valyria may never recover from the Doom.

Up next, the Reign of the Dragons

[thetwistedcryptid]

(art made in a picrew) [twst styled pic/sprite of him in uniform soon to come] “Were the diver to think on the jaws of the shark, he would never lay hands on the precious pearl.” School: Royal Sword Academy

[Lillehavfrue] [the dorm was founded on the curiosity of The Little Mermaid.] Full Name: Bomani Melokuhle Nicknames: Uk’otoa, Bomi, Bom-Bom

Grade/Class: year 1 (freshmen)/Class (No.1-A)

Birthday: July 14th (Cancer)

Age: 16

Height: 182 cm (6’0”) Race: Merfolk (shark)

Dominant Hand: Right

Homeland: Coral Sea

Club: Swim Club

Best Subjects: Astrology and Kinesiology (swimming) Worst Subject: Alchemy Hobbies: Weight-Lifting, and Playing guitar (ukulele)

Pet Peeves: Hot weather, Dolphins, and Math Fears: Dolphins 

Favorite Food: Sfenj (Moroccan doughnut-like fritters), tho mainly anything thats meat

Least Favorite Food: any kind of fruit/veggies

Talent: Cooking Unique magic: "False Serpent!" incantation: Keep him locked away! [The user can pull from moisture in the air or nearby water sources to create a stream of water shaped like a serpent - similar in appearance to the leviathan Uk’otoa (hence how he has that nickname) - which they can launch at their opponents for ramming or whip based attacks.] Trivia: His merfolk form resembles that of a lantern shark - making that form bioluminescent! … and also a lot smaller than his human form (4’9” - 6’0”). Which he is somewhat insecure about, but he won't admit that. Least the small size makes him very speedy, that's a plus! Though he does appreciate being bigger on land than in water, it allows him to be as strong as he always dreamed off as a merling. He is a very generous and boisterous boy, always looking out for others - and aiming to get stronger by any means necessary! ..which often gets him into trouble.  He has freckles all over his body, practically coating him, and not just on his face. ——— Character Summary: “I am a shark, the ground is my ocean, and most people can't even swim.”

He was the only child born to two (lantern shark) merfolk in the dark cold depths of the Coral sea - both of which work at a certain rather popular restaurant in the coral sea… and are indebted to the family who owns that restaurant due to them having struggled financially prior to being hired there. His family are good friends with that family because of it, often spending holidays together and having playdates with their kids or going to watch fireworks on the surface every year together.  Growing close with a certain octopus and eels… one of which he liked to roughhouse with but was also kinda scared of.

His parents always did everything they could to keep him safe - teaching him different shortcuts to avoid more dangerous predator animal merfolk, but also how to network and how to not get on those stronger peoples’ bad sides. Which had made him good at avoiding suspicions and blending in with crowds. He was always picked on for his small merform size, and wouldn’t really defend himself - usually running away or just being polite till they left him alone. But would always jump into a fight to defend someone else who was being bullied. Often ending with him badly hurt, never having won.. But it did gain him some friends and the idolization of some of his peers for his bravery on their behalf.

Due to not wanting people to suffer like he has, he aimed to get stronger every day in order to protect more people, but it escalated when he went on land for the first time,   seeing that his human form is much bigger than his merform, which excited him greatly! It allows him to be as strong and reliable as he always wanted to be! On land, people don't bully him for his small size and lack of strength. He became very fascinated with land life, wanting to explore and experience all it has to offer, something his family and friends don’t seem to understand nor encourage all that strongly.

He was eventually selected to join royal sword academy, and have a teary goodbye to his parents and went onto land, heading to the isle of sages promising to stay in contact and send souvenirs! He was excited to have the opportunity to join such a prestigious academy, and is trying his best not to let that opportunity go to waste! Sadly his three certain friends go to NRC, and thus he can’t really see them that often and doesn’t have much contact with them. but.. Perhaps he could head over and visit them every so often? Heard they have a good restaurant.. That should be a good enough excuse! ———

[astaroth1357]

Leviathan's Odyssey 7:

Flood

Mammon: Levi!!

*Mammon is the first to leap forward and run across the beach, faster than Lucifer could stop him. His enthusiasm, however, seems to wind down considerably when his brother doesn’t make any move to meet him… and then he retreats back to the others when a massive, serpentine head rises out from the water by the shore. This new beast is not quite as large as the one from before (which likely was Levi himself in some kind of horrific second form) but it could still swallow any one of brothers whole and looks very hungry and eager to do so… particularly when six other heads just like it come up to join the fun*

*Levi stops the clamoring hissing of the monstrous serpent with only the raise of a hand, leaving Lucifer to assume whatever it is, must be completely under his thrall… an impressive feat for a creature that size…*

Levi: This is Lotan. Don't mind him.

*as their formerly missing brother starts his stride across the beach, a growing knot begins to twist in the pit of the eldest’s stomach… The kind of feeling one gets when they’ve realized that they’re out of their element... but they’re up against someone else who very much is. Fighting to keep a composed demeanor, he waits until Levi’s right in front of them before responding*

Lucifer: You look well, Levi... I’m glad. Though I’m surprised you've turned up here of all places...

*Leviathan, maybe amused by the statement, sticks the end of his trident into the ground by his feet before smiling*

Levi: Same goes for you, but this is just my first stop. *he shrugs nonchalantly, glancing all his brothers over until his eyes land on… well, a new face*

Levi: And what’s that thing...?

*Lucifer follows his eyeline to baby Satan, currently peeking his blonde head out from the safety of his shirt. He had almost forgotten he was still holding him...*

Lucifer: Oh, well… I suppose this is your new brother…

Levi: You stole a kid??

Lucifer: Well, no. He’s uh... it’s complicated.

*Levi looks a tad confused but leans down to get a better look at the boy. Again, much to Lucifer’s surprise, their seemingly fearless child attempts to hide his face back into the fabric…*

Levi: Huh. Looks like your guppy’s shy. *he flashes yet another shark-toothed grin… where he had developed such a maw is a mystery to Lucifer… None of his brothers' teeth get that sharp*

Lucifer: He’s not usually… *one of his hands instinctively goes to shield Satan’s head. A part of him hopes that it’s only Levi’s appearance that he finds scary… but a greater part of him fears there’s more to it than that…*

*it doesn’t take Levi long to look past Satan and back to the others, all of whom are still grappling somewhere between a state of shock and guilt*

Levi: Well. I’m happy you all found each other. Up here... *they watch for a moment as his slitted eyes narrow slightly...*

Levi: ...without me.

*Mammon is again the first to step forward, putting a hand over his own chest*

Mammon: I looked for ya when we-

*he could continue but Levi cuts him off with a sudden spike in volume, picking his trident back up from the sand*

Levi: -and just look at the house you got! *he lifts the weapon over to the Demon Lord’s villa, sitting perched on a scenic hill above the beach* Doesn’t it look just… nice?

*the twisting in Lucifer’s gut is only getting worse… he doesn’t like where this is going…*

Lucifer: The house isn't ours, Leviathan… We’re borrowing it. We live somewhere farther inland...

*the way that Levi’s eyebrows raise only further cement his fears… For a moment, he swears he sees something flash in his eyes but it's gone too fast to identify it…*

Levi: So that means you have two then?

*they all watch in confusion as he bends down to scoop some sand between his fingers…  letting the white grains slip slowly from his grasp*

Lucifer: Two…? Two what?

Levi: Two territories. On dry land. *Levi watches the sand pour to the ground, seemingly mesmerized by how it falls, before returning back to his brothers*

Levi: I bet that really must be nice. Really… really nice. *Lucifer sees the look in his eye change again, but this time the darkness lingers… radiating what he can only describe as pure malice and envy*

Levi: But that doesn’t surprise me. You guys have always had it better than I have…

Mammon: Huh..? *Mammon raises an eyebrow, apparently blindsided by his comment* What the hell are ya talkin about, Levi?

*Lucifer can’t help but shoot a look at him, even for the innocent question. There’s something very different about the Levi before them right now… They shouldn’t risk giving him ammunition. Unfortunately, Levi’s eyes only narrow again but this time into deadly thin slits*

Levi: What am I talking about? Isn’t it obvious?? Or are you still just as dumb as ever, Mammon? *Levi sweeps his trident out to the side, baring his pointed teeth in a silent snarl*

Levi: All of you had it so much better in the Celestial Realm than I did! Mr. “Always Perfect” Lucifer and his stupid little lapdog, Mammon! Oh how everybody looked up to you! *he jerks his trident towards a frightened Asmodeus, the anger in his eyes only intensifying*

Levi: And then there’s you! Always sneaking out to parties and sleeping who knows where, but were you ever cast out for it?? No! Because you’d always go crying to Lucifer to get your way!!

Lucifer: That’s enough, Levi-!

*Leviathan’s tail lashes the beach sand, kicking up a cloud of white behind him and they hear the low hiss of the seven-headed beast still very much watching them…*

Levi: Shut up! I’m not done!! *his trident next jerks towards Beel and Belphie, the older of whom currently pushing the younger behind his back defensively*

Levi: And then there’s you two! Who could ever get enough of hearing how everybody loved the twins?? “Did you see what Beel did today?” “Hasn’t he gotten so big?” “He’s a shoe-in for seraphim for sure!” And if you had just stayed in your goddamn place, Belphie, then NONE OF US WOULD EVEN BE HERE RIGHT NOW!!!

Lucifer: LEVIATHAN, I SAID ENOUGH!! *Lucifer’s beach clothes quickly evaporate as they get replaced by his demon form, black wings towering high above his head, but Levi remains undaunted*

Levi: AND I TOLD YOU TO SHUT!! UP!!!

*the sky above them darkens as growing clouds bloat out the artificial sun, the sheer intensity of Levi’s rage apparently beginning to disturb the sea around them. The waves suddenly start getting choppy, bubbling up and crashing into each other furiously...*

*for a moment, Lucifer is astounded how Levi’s emotions alone could have such an effect on the currents, but that’s only until he looks a little closer… It’s no current or wind changing the waters, it's a horde of creatures struggling for space above the water’s surface: tails, fins, tentacles, and heads of all shapes and sizes breaching the formally calm seas to make their presence known. In a matter of moments, they find themselves outnumbered not by the tens or hundreds, but by the thousands… An ocean’s worth of monsters calling for their blood from across the shore…*

*as the brothers realize what they must be seeing, a collective horror casts over them… Levi himself takes a few deep breaths and raises his trident back to the army, quieting his troops once more, but they remain near the surface to watch for his orders. Dormant, but far from absent in their conflict… A tense silence hangs in the air but Lucifer is the first to break it with a quiet, harsh whisper*

Lucifer: Leviathan… What is the meaning of this? What are these things and why are you here?

*Levi slowly lowers his trident and glares back at his brother with a look that’s not smug, nor boastful. It holds nothing but anger and contempt for him and seemingly everyone around him...*

Levi: Shouldn’t it be obvious, Lucifer? I’m still a general, aren’t I? So what if my men look a little different now... *he digs the end of his trident into the sand, keeping his head aloft in a way Lucifer had only seen him do on the battlefield*

Levi: I want better land. I’m here for more territory and I’m starting with this beach. *though his voice is assured and commanding, Lucifer narrows his eyes at him just as Levi had done before*

Lucifer: No. I can’t let you do that. *Levi, of course, doesn’t back down for a second*

Levi: Well, too bad it wasn’t a request.

Lucifer: This beach and the land it’s attached to are all property of the Devildom and its ruler, Lord Diavolo. I cannot and will not just let you take it. *Lucifer’s words actually seem to give Levi a pause for thought, but more out of surprise than anything*

Levi: Wait, did you just say “Lord” Diavolo…? *he thinks for a moment before a smile finally comes back to his face, though this time with an air of mockery* Did you just call the Prince by his title? Don’t tell me you’re his lackey now, are you…??

*Lucifer, to his credit, doesn’t flinch or look away… but he doesn’t look particularly happy either*

Lucifer: I remain my own man, as I’ve always been… But I owe my loyalty to the Prince and I will oversee his interests as I see fit. *it seems regardless of his answer, Leviathan still snorts at him*

Levi: So you are!! And here I thought I’d never see you take a knee to a demon! Just how low have you sunk now, huh? *Lucifer opens his mouth to respond, but Mammon beats him to the punch*

Mammon: Would it kill ya to just shut up already, Levi?? We ain’t just gonna let ya take what you want! *despite his brother’s outburst, Levi only continues to look amused*

Levi: And you really think you can stop me?

*he raises his trident once more and an unearthly chorus is sung from the waves, a deadly hum of hissing and growls emitting from his waiting “soldiers,” itching to attack on his say so. Many most likely already having the reach or capability to pluck the other demons from the sands where they stand*

Levi: … you and what army?

*Mammon’s silence appears to be his answer as he glances anxiously to Lucifer… the rest of his brothers doing the same. In times like these, they all turn to the eldest to come up with a plan, but it seems that this time, Lucifer finds himself with limited options… He takes a moment to study his family’s faces - then the savage crowd of beasts surrounding them - with an expression that’s near unreadable…*

Lucifer: … I can call Lord Diavolo from here. What are your demands?

*there’s a sharp intake of breath from his brothers, not a one expecting him seemingly to back down so quickly*

Mammon: What?!

Asmo: Lucifer?? You can’t be serious!! *though his brothers are stunned, Lucifer doesn’t take his eyes off of Levi while still maintaining his stoic expression*

Lucifer: If this is the bed he wants to lie in, then so be it… 

*he and Levi glare at each other momentarily, before the other finally says something in response*

Levi: Tell your prince that I’ll start flooding Devildom within the next twenty minutes… If he hands over his territory willingly, then I’ll let him evacuate anyone living on it. Otherwise, it makes no difference to me.

Lucifer: If that’s really what you want… But Levi? *Lucifer waits until he has his full attention to make his point clear… His expression may have even softened some… Is it with worry? Maybe even disappointment?* 

Lucifer: Don’t do anything you may regret…

*Leviathan looks at him for a few seconds more, before turning his back to them entirely*

Levi: … You have my demands, don’t you? *as he starts to walk away, Lucifer says something else just barely loud enough for him to hear*

Lucifer: You’ve changed… Leviathan.

*for a split second, Levi’s steps falter… but he doesn’t stop nor turn back to respond*

Levi: I’m just who I need to be… Lucifer.

Parts: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9

[random-tinies]

Sea and Sky and Stupid Decisions

hi there! bio anon here, wanted to post a thing i made in the mcyt g/t discord here. it was initially just a little prompt but it ended up spiraling out of control ;P this is about 1 parts noms story to 3 parts legend myth, because i haven’t any idea how to write noms without plot ;P

(thanks again for letting me submit this to you!!)

content warnings for: soft vore, fearplay, major injury (not delved into at all), blood (also not delved into much)

The sea is vast and unforgiving. It holds no master, it does not bargain or hold grudges, it simply takes and gifts as it pleases, a bringer of life and freedom and of death and deep crushing depths all at once. It is unknowable to mortal minds.

It can also, on occasion, be extremely stupid in its decision making.

The sea god, in the form of a vast whale shark, had been gliding through his domain with a peaceful certainty of his power. The sun beat down upon his vast spotted back, glittering the stripes of gold and emerald that signified his divinity along his fins. The vast open ocean was where he was most powerful, most tricky to deal with. Along the calmer coral reefs and kelp forests and shallow shores of his domain there was the certainty of land beneath you, even if it was buried under the ocean tides. In the open ocean you were a puppet to the playing tides, the world went on endlessly beneath and above you, and if you were in danger there was nothing you could do but plead to the ocean for a mercy that he never felt too inclined to give. 

The sea god had been making his way, with the endless patience of the filter feeder he was taking the form of, towards a tiny wooden boat bobbing like a toy atop his ocean. It was always fun to snap up a couple of mortals from their refuges at the surface, to remind them that their fear of the sea is not unfounded. It was a little surprising though that there was one all of the way out here - the main village trade routes generally kept to the shorelines in fear of his capricious nature. This mortal was either very brave or very lost.

It didn’t matter. The sea god swam languidly towards the tiny toy contraption, and however many creatures were inside of it.

He shifted into a sea serpent’s shape as he got closer, allowing the mortal the dubious honor of seeing its own doom approaching in the form of almost a kilometer long stretch of scales and fins, far more vast than even the greatest of the sea god’s creatures.

The psychic scent of a mortal in a deep panic, of a fearful and desperate prayer being sent out, made him grin. Then the sea god surfaced in a blast of surf and, in one bite, entrapped the boat and crushed the wooden frame like it was little more than a splinter. The sea god sank below the waves that were pushed up by his arrival, descending into the depths to play with this mortal.

The first thing he did was shrink down from his vast form into something a little more manageable. The scent of fear and terror and faster prayers (too late little mortal. You are in my domain now) made him decide on something that would tease even more terror from it. He chose an enormous shark, one with rows and rows of teeth that oh-so-carefully shredded the boat further, releasing the mortal from it and spitting out the remains of the pathetic ship. 

It flailed in his mouth, and he could feel the texture of feathers and wings. Perhaps the mortal had been bringing birds with it. Feathery little ground-fowl that were so beneath him he could hardly feel their presence. He amused himself in the mortal’s pathetic struggles for a moment longer, before opening his mouth and gulping in an enormous swallow of sea water that washed the mortal down into his gullet. It continued to struggle all the while, and he was starting to really like it’s fear. Just the tiniest hint of useless hope in the center of it to make it persist even when the mortal was all but dead. 

He swam for a long while in the indigo blue deep sea, indulging in the feeling of struggle and burning land-based life in the middle of his domain. But… hm, he could go more with this. The mortal had remained remarkably resilient and active in its useless hope, and he wanted to see if he couldn’t tease out any more reactions from it before it eventually perished.

He started slowly, shrinking from the enormous shark into a massive tuna fish with scales lined in emerald, and felt with it the movements of the mortal get arrested in his stomach. The once large space it had been flailing in had decreased dramatically, and he could tell it was nervous about that. 

Then he shrank further, into an oarfish with trailing fins of gold glitter. Its long snake-like body compressed the mortal further, and it had started struggling again for a different reason than before. The sea god whipped around joyously at the feeling, spurring from his erratic movements another wave of fear. 

Finally, the sea god shrank further still into the form of an elder guardian, its spiny scales shivering and clicking as the size of the mortal within him pushed out against the organs that crowded close around it. He lazily made his way back to the surface, the warm sun once again comforting on his back. He was done with this mortal, and the way it curled up tight within him was satisfying enough that he desired nothing more from it. Soon he would let it die, or descend further into the depths and allow the ocean to crush it more thoroughly than any animal’s stomach could. 

It was there, lying at the surface of the open ocean, shivering alabaster scales as the mortal seemingly never ran out of energy to push on the god around it, that the sea god was interrupted. 

And lo, the sky ripped asunder and the heavens fell and in their wake the Goddess of the Continuation After stepped upon the ocean god’s calm sea, shepherded not by her faithful acolyte.

And She said unto the ocean god -

“Release him from your grasp, he is not yours to take.”

And the ocean god smiled and transformed into an enormous dragonfish, and spoke to Her on the sea breeze.

“Deaths at sea are my domain, dear sister goddess. I do not tell you who not to take on land or sky, you should not insult me to insist you take from my oceans too.”

And She said in return, “that is my messenger and lover, my Angel who harkens my power. I demand his safe return to me.”

And the ocean god said - “wait shit really?”

If he weren’t so caught up in playing with the mortal in such a way, the sea god supposed he would have realized that the feathers that had tickled his mouth had continued to persist, pressed up against a wall of his stomach. Not a simple ground bird’s plumage, but a vast creature’s wingspan. Wings fit for an angel. 

It (he? The god supposed he would need to no longer think of it as a simple mortal) had renewed its struggles with more vigor than even before, hearing its Lady’s voice. 

Despite the sea god’s surprise and Her demands, he felt anger build in him. The angel had been foolish enough to travel his seas, he should accept the risks that are brought with it. She had allowed her attendant worshipper to leave Her all-seeing sight - clearly She didn’t care about it that much. Gods can be territorial over what they own, and clearly this was just a case of the sea god taking a toy that She decided She still wanted.

And so, in his infinite wisdom, the sea god bared jagged glass teeth at the Goddess of What Comes After and refused to relinquish the angel to Her. 

“I am fond of Your angel now. He has travelled with me to the depths of the ocean, and witnessed my power and myriad of beautiful creatures. I think I would like to keep him, dear sister.”

The Goddess raised Her wings of ebony and jet, and scavenging carrion birds that did not belong in the domain of the open ocean fled from Her and trailed into the sky.  She said to the sea god - 

“Do not become a fool, brother god. You will let my Angel go, or I may tear him from your gut. I will scatter your blood to all of the oceans of the world, and let your own creations feast upon you as you have feasted upon what is Mine.”

The sea god dropped his guise of the beasts of the sea, and in the form of a man wrought in gold and emerald he rose from the waters to stand before the Lady of the Lost. The two mighty gods clashed, tearing the sea and sky with their battle as the Goddess seeked to take back what was Her’s and the sea god desired to keep what he had claimed.

Their struggle only ended when the Angel, fearful and hurt by the pain his Lady had received in the fight and the harm that had come to himself from within the sea god, cried out. The Goddess of the Unforgiving Conclusion drew up a vast sword of midnight and tore the sea god open from the back.

From the god’s divine blood, the Angel emerged unharmed from his Goddess’ attack, and fled from the grasp of the wounded sea god into the great swarm of carrion birds that circled above.

The Goddess cast the sea god into the dark depths of the ocean, and wiped her sword of deep black clean. Where the droplets of divine blood hit the earth, all over the world, lay the tiniest portion of the sea god’s power in totems of gold and emerald. Where it hit the sea great pyramids of prismarine grew around it to celebrate its power. Now with his power broken into a thousand pieces, the sea god fled into the depths of the ocean, and he knew himself to be foolish for having tried to fight Her.

He never was quite the same from that day forward. The sea, his domain, was never fully his anymore. The wound along his back, struck to slice his gut open and release the mortal, never truly healed and even in the many shapes of the creatures of the sea it was still visible as a deep black scar. 

In penitence for his childish stupidity he stepped up onto the shores that he had so despised for so long and, in the form of both a shark and a man, he tried to learn about the mortals that lived outside of his open ocean waters for the first time. 

He had been foolish, and as such he didn’t deserve to rule the seas he had before. Perhaps though, one day, he can regain this title. Perhaps he could be reborn into this role, if the Lady so permits.

If the Angel forgives him, he may find his way back to the sea again.

.

.

.

AAAAAAAAAAAA *stimming on my desk* THIS IS SO COOL???? BIO, THIS IS AWESOME OIHUGYUFT I’M HONORED TO POST IT HERE 🤩 HOW?? DO YOU WRITE SUCH MASTERPIECES???? THIS IS SUCH AN AMAZING ORIGIN MYTH FOR TOTEMS AND OCEAN MONUMENTS AND FOOLISH!!! I will be thinking about this for days. Incredible uwu Thank you so much for blessing us all ohuigyuty GAh THIS MAKES ME HAPPY!!

[tpwkjerii]

as you wish | 3

your one true love was lost in a pirate accident five years ago, and now you’re engaged to a cruel prince. with all your misfortune, you didn’t expect three unconventional thugs and a painfully familiar pirate to save you from a dreadful future. (inspired by The Princess Bride)

pairing: pirate!seokjin x princess!reader

warnings: fluff and angst (!!), reader is forced into engagement and becoming a princess, mentions of death, kidnapping, murder threats, mentions of monsters and fire, kissing, attempted murder, cursing

genre: fairy tale/pirate au, semi established relationship au

word count: 3.7k+

a/n: two more parts left eek (this is also kinda unedited; my apologies for any grammar mistakes :[ )

prev | next | m.list

“Looks like your darling Prince has caught up to us,” the masked man stated dryly, his arms crossed in obvious displeasure.

You furrowed your brows. “You’re not working for him?” you asked quickly.

He scoffed in response. “Why would I work for him,” he spat.

You rolled your eyes at his attitude, concern growing in your mind. You still had no idea who this man was, so going with him was a 50/50 chance of life or death, and you definitely knew that Prince Donghae would not be pleased if he got to you. The last thing you wanted was a repeat of your first night at the castle — it wasn’t unlikely that he would go further either.

However, you didn’t have much time to decide on or say something as the masked man harshly grabbed your arms and pulled you away. You sputtered as he practically dragged your body down the hill.

“What do you want from me?” you asked, your voice and body tired. “If it’s ransom, I promise that you can get it, no matter the amount.”

The man in black scoffed again. “And how much do you think you’re worth, your Highness? What are your words worth, the mere promise of a Princess?”

You sighed, your irritation growing with his stubbornness. “I was giving you a chance… It doesn’t matter where you take me, Prince Donghae is the greatest hunter in this kingdom. He will find you, and I can’t guarantee your fate for when he does.”

He laughed scornfully. “You think your dearest love, the Prince, will save you?” he questioned.

Your face screwed at his suggestion. “I never said that he was my dearest love and yes, he will save me, that I know.”

“You admit to me that you do not love your fiance?” the man asked you, shock evident in his tone.

“He knows I don’t love him,” you responded simply.

“Are not capable of love is what you mean,” he remarked snarkily.

His words stung and, outraged, you planted your feet on the ground above you and ripped yourself out of his grip. You looked at the masked man directly in the eyes, pain in your voice as you told him, “I have loved more deeply than a killer like yourself could ever dream.”

This man may have several physical similarities to Seokjin, but his words and attitude clearly showed otherwise. Perhaps your first impression based on his revealing attire was correct after all.

He was silent as you continued. “I know exactly who you are. Your cruelty revealed it all.” He remained silent as he simply looked at you.

“You’re the dread Pirate Joohyun; admit it!” you exclaimed, anger towards the man who killed the only man you ever truly loved overtaking you.

A mischievous smirk spread across the man’s face. “With pride,” he responded, causing you to breathe out in anger. “What can I do for you?” he asked teasingly.

“You can die slowly — burn and be fed to the sharks for all I care!” you answered, angry tears spilling down your face from his words.

He winced in faux pain. “Those words hurt, your Highness. What have I done to deserve such a cruel fate?”

You stepped closer to him, now staring him dead in the eyes. “You killed my love,” you said, your voice threateningly low.

The man faltered, and for a brief second you almost thought that he had remorse for you. “That’s possible. I’ve killed a lot of people,” he replied bluntly before immediately grabbing you again.

You scoffed, struggling against his strong arms as he dragged you further away.

“Who was this love of yours? Another prince? Was he ugly and rich like this one?” he remarked, contempt clear in his voice. You briefly wondered what exactly this man had against you and your fiance (who you don’t even like) before you responded.

“No,” you started, keeping your voice as level as possible as you reminisced about Seokjin. “A poor farm boy. Poor but perfect, with eyes like chocolate and the kindest soul I’ve ever met.” You stepped closer to the masked man, tears now slowly rolling down your face. “Your ship attacked, and we all know that you, dread Pirate Joohyun, don’t take any prisoners.”

He was slow to reply. “I can’t afford to make any exceptions. Once word goes out that a pirate’s gone soft, people start to take risks and disobey you. Then it’s nothing but work and fighting from there,” he explained like a teacher would.

You breathed out in disbelief at his outward lack of contrition. “You mock my pain,” you spat.

“Life is pain, your Highness.” His grip on your arm tightened and his pace quickened. “Anyone who tells you otherwise is lying.”

You didn’t get a chance to respond before he continued, “I think I remember your farm boy. That would have been what, two years ago?”

You remained silent, the past two days and sudden onslaught of this man’s harsh words and memories of Seokjin bringing tears to your eyes.

“Does that bother you to hear? To think about once again?” he persisted.

You ripped yourself out of his grip again and pushed his chest, sending him a few feet back. “Nothing you say now can upset me any more than you already have. My heart is used to harshness and disinterest.”

The masked man ignored your words and continued sharply, “He died well, that should please you. No bribe attempts or useless blubbering. He only said ‘Please. Please, I need to live.’ That’s what caught my memory. I asked him what was so important on this earth that he deserved to live for, and he said true love.” He paused to laugh bitterly. “Then he spoke of a girl of surpassing beauty and faithfulness. I can only assume he meant you. You should thank me for killing him before he found out who you truly are.”

“And who am I?” you countered, stepping closer to him in anger.

“Faithfulness, my lady. He mentioned your unwavering faithfulness,” he responded bitterly. “Now tell me, when you found out he died, did you get engaged to your prince that hour, or did you at least wait a week, out of respect for the dead?”

Your hands balled up by your sides. “Don’t mock me anymore! I died that day! You speak as if it was my choice!”

“Was it no-”

The masked man paused, and both of your heads turned towards the fields which he rushed you away from. There, Prince Donghae and his small army were making their way in your current direction.

Your eyes moved from the royal soldiers towards Seokjin towards the ravine that was lying below the hills on your right side; and with only a moment of thought, your hands moved up towards Seokjin’s chest.

“You too can die for all I care,” you said darkly before you pushed him down the hill.

You watched as he tumbled down the grassy hill, no emotions running through your tired body. It wasn’t until three words, three words which used to bring you great comfort and happiness, rang out, the voice behind them growing further and further away by the second.

“...As…you…wish…”

Your hand instantly flew to your mouth in horror. You were wrong - extremely wrong. “Oh my god, what have I done? My sweet Seokjin,” you whispered, your mind reeling at the sudden turn of events.

Without a second thought or consideration of the dangers ahead of you, you ran down the steep hill into the ravine. You barely made it a few meters before your foot got caught on a rock, sending you tumbling down the hill and into the ravine behind Seokjin.

You winced as you landed on the dirt, your body sore from the heavy impact.

“Can you move at all?” you heard Seokjin groan from a few feet away.

“Can I move?” you started, lifting your head up to look at him. His mask was off his face now, allowing you to perfectly see his beautiful face and know that it really was him.  “Seokjin, you’re alive. I could fly if you asked me too.”

“Fly then.”

“You know I meant that figuratively, Jinnie,” you said with a sigh, a wave of relief crashing through you as you realized his sense of humor never changed even after all this time. “Oh, Seokjin,” you murmured, closing your eyes and laying your head down on the ground again.

The leaves and stones crunched beneath him as he stood up and walked towards you. “I told you that I would always come back to you,” he said, leaning down to gently caress your face before lifting you to your feet. You opened your eyes and looked up to meet his eyes, your hand instinctively reaching for his. “Why didn’t you wait for me?” he asked softly.

You felt a knot in your chest as you answered. “You were dead. And I had no choice in following Prince Donghae’s orders of becoming his Princess if I wanted to live.”

He let go of your hand, much to your initial dismay, and moved it up to gently cup your cheek. “You should have had more faith in me. Death can’t stop true love, it can delay it at most,” he spoke earnestly.

You nodded, eyes glazing over as you said, “I’ll never doubt again.”

“You will never need to doubt,” Seokjin replied before he leaned down and closed the distance between your lips. His plump lips were slightly chapped yet still maintained their soft quality. You melted in the familiarity of his tongue swiping against your bottom lip and the way he pulled away only for a few seconds just to kiss you again. His large hands rested gently on your face before moving to your lower back and the back of your head as he pulled you deeper into the kiss.

After what felt like an eternity, he finally pulled away. Breathless, you both took a few seconds to catch your breath.

“I’ve been wanting to do that for the past two years,” Seokjin admitted with a laugh as he massaged your hands lovingly.

“If you’d taken that mask off earlier we could’ve done that at least 20 hours ago.” You laughed.

Seokjin opened his mouth, ready to reply before an echo of a horse’s whine rang through the gorge. You and Seokjin looked up and saw the man whose appearance you’d been dreading this past journey. Prince Donghae had dismounted from his horse and was looking down into the gorge, an unrecognizable expression on his face.

Your breath caught in your throat. “Do you think… he can see us?” you whispered to Seokjin.

He shook his head. “Unlikely. Even if he does, he’s too late. There’s no way they can get around this gorge in less than at least three days.”

Seokjin’s confidence reassured you, although a small feeling of reassurance still gnawed at your stomach. “Are you sure?”

He nodded and gave you a kind smile. “I’m positive, my love. Even if he did, I would not let him take you from me again — I would rather die than let that happen.”

You sighed and shook your head. “Still dramatic, aren’t you?” you asked with a teasing smile.

He scoffed in offense. “It’s true! I really would!”

“I’ll take your word for it, Jin,” you said lightly.

He grinned and leaned down to press a soft kiss on your cheek. A blush spread across your face as he grabbed your hand and gently tugged you forward. “C’mon, let’s go.”

“How do you know where to go?” you asked curiously, examining the dense forest ahead of you.

“Do you think I’ve just been lazing around the past two years?” He reached his arm towards his back and unsheathed his sword, the silver barely shining in the low light that barely peeked into the gorge. “I’m not the same farm boy that I once was.”

“And what happened these past two years, Seokjin?” you asked as you followed him while he skillfully led you through the thick trees.

He sliced through a natural wall of tiny branches, a sharp slicing noise filling your ears. “Would you like the short story or the long story?”

You took his hand as you hopped over the pile of dead branches and leaves. “Well, I’m assuming that we have at least two or three to go through whatever this place is, so I suppose that you have time to tell the long story?”

“You’re absolutely correct,” he said cheekily, using his sword to cut through a wall of vines that hung from the trees. “Before I start, I would like to hear about you.”

You jumped as you heard a loud chirp from within the forest, instinctively moving closer to Seokjin, who moved his hand so he could wrap his arm securely around you. “What about me?” you asked, your voice still shaky in mild fear from the unexpected noise.

“You know what I mean, Y/N.” He took a deep breath as you sliced through another wall of built up branches. “How did you end up as Princess, engaged and to be married to Prince Donghae? What happened?”

“Not too long after you left us, father died—”

“I’m sorry,” he interrupted you, a sorrowful look on his face.

“It’s ok, I’ve already made my peace with his death.” You smiled at him gently before you continued. “Not too long after, news spread of the King’s deteriorating health and the subsequent search for a Princess since Prince Donghae was yet to court anyone. Prince Donghae began searching throughout the Kingdom for any princess he deemed suitable, and honestly I expected the search to end in the inner Kingdom with a wealthy daughter of the court.

But I guess none of them satisfied him, and one day he was in our village. All potential ladies were gathered together in the Church - trust me I wouldn’t have been there if I wasn’t forced - and subject to his scruitany. Prince Donghae examined each lady, sparing some only a quick glance and other a brief exchange in words,” you paused to laugh bitterly, old feelings of resentment awakening. “I suppose that’s how I sealed my poor fate.”

“Something about me must have caught his attention, and he tried to start a conversation with me. Like a fool, I thought I could get away with ignoring him.” You paused to breathe in deeply, the memory of that day bringing in a familiar feeling of deep regret. “And showing him I wasn’t interested. Evidently, my silence spurned his curiosity, and as of that evening, the search for the to-be Princess ended.”

“I’m sorry for assuming you left me on your own will,” Seokjin apologized with a pitiful expression. By now your walking pace had decreased to a leisurely stroll as he guided you through the dense trees. “I hope that life as a Princess has at least treated you well.”

“Treated me well?” You laughed indignantly. “While I may have not had to worry about finances and a sudan surplus of materialistic items, life in the palace has been everything but welcoming,” you began to rant. Seokjin, while trying to contain his anger, listened thoughtfully as you continued. “I don’t belong. They never fail to remind me of that very fact every single day.”

“Who’s they?”

“The royal court, the administrators — hell even Prince Donghae sometimes! I hear the whispers whenever I enter a room: the mutters of ‘why is the poor village girl still here?’ and ‘how could such a lowly maiden be the Princess?’ and more. It takes all my willpower to not scream at them and tell them that I didn’t want to be there in the first place. Prince Donghae chose me but I never chose him or this life.

Every moment of the day I’m surrounded by people and guards who monitor my every action. They wait by my chamber rooms, by the drawing room, by the garden, and by every single room I could ever be in. Anything suspicious or out-of-line is reported to the Queen, who hates that I wasn’t born into wealth or royalty. But out of everyone, Prince Donghae is the worst,” you muttered darkly, tears threatening to fall from your eyes as you averted your gaze to the dirt floor.

“Why? What has he done to you?” Seokjin rushed, red hot anger spreading across his body.

You laughed bitterly. “All the sentiments that everyone in the Palace shares about me, he hears and feels them. He knows how I’m constantly ridiculed by the court and his own mother, yet he says nothing to them or of them. He uses me like a toy; he forces jewels and fine dresses onto me as his partner at formal events but throws me to the side when I’m not needed. There is not an ounce of love or affection between us. And heaven forbid I ever talk back or defend myself, because if I do… I’ll regret it.” Your hand unconsciously reached up to your neck, fingers touching the same spots Donghae’s were.

Seokjin seemed to understand what your sudden change in hand placement meant and his grip on his sword tightened. “That bastard touched you? He hurt you?”

You nodded. “But all physical injuries pale in comparison to the emotional blows I’ve faced. Like all things, though, I’ve grown uncaring. Their words won’t stop, that much I know, and for a long time I felt hopeless and knew that there was little - or nothing at all - I could do to change my fate. For many months, I just relished in the fact that I wasn’t dead.”

“If I had known that he was hurting you, I would’ve done everything I could to come back sooner.”

You looked up at him, and Seokjin’s heart ached at the vulnerability of your body language. You kept your voice soft as you asked, “What were you doing the past two years, Seokjin? How did you survive the attack?”

He sighed and slightly increased your walking pace as you entered a clearer path. “I first ought to explain that the dread Pirate Joohyun isn’t really Joohyun,” he paused to chuckle at your bewildered expression before continuing. “The real Pirate Joohyun has been retired twenty years now after securing enough gold and jewels to last his family three lifetimes. The rest of us have been under the mere illusion of a name… When my ship was attacked that night, I pleaded just like I told you did. The then-Joohyun, named Sihyuk, pitied me and welcomed me onto his ship.

I was a simple crewmate for a few weeks. It wasn’t seamless, of course. Every night, Sihyuk would tell me that he might kill me the next morning, but he never did. Before I realized it, he started training me in all skills a pirate should have: sword fighting, strength, balance, combat, everything. After a short few months, he told me everything about his true identity and the others before him and his plans to hand the title of ‘Pirate Joohyun’ to me.

I accepted, obviously, and the next day, we stopped at a port in Europe and got a new crew. When we set sail again, I was the Captain and Sihyuk called me ‘Joohyun’ until everyone believed that I was truly Joohyun. Then Sihyuk retired from pirating forever, and during the months between then and now, I fulfilled my duties as the Pirate Joohyun.”

You nodded, absorbing his story. It seemed like both of you had a rather unconventional past two years. “Did you ever go back? Back to our village?” you wondered aloud.

He nodded sadly. “I did once a few months ago. I left disappointed when the bakery lady told me that you had moved to the castle as the new Princess.”

“I’m so -”

“No.” Seokjin shook his head. “I’m sorry,” he stated firmly. “You did not deserve what you’ve been through, and my words were unwarranted. I did not know your side of the story and I thought harshly of you because of that.”

“It’s ok, Seokjin. I understand the pain you must have felt,” you whispered, your heart twinging at the thought of Seokjin leaving your tiny village, undoubtedly heartbroken and furious, under the impression that you no longer loved him and moved on with a rich Prince.

He paused in his steps and turned so you were directly facing him. His arms wrapped around you gently and you followed his movements. “I promise you, Y/N. You will never have to see Donghae or step foot into that castle again,” he whispered as he clutched you to his chest. You breathed in his familiar scent and tightened your arms around him. Seokjin’s hugs were just as comforting as before - if not more - and you basked in the way one of his hands rubbed circles in your lower back while the other slowly inched its way up to the back of your head.

You lifted your head up and met his eyes before you leaned in to press your lips against his. Your lips molded together perfectly, and you both rejoiced in the perfect feeling of electricity coursing through your veins and heat spreading across your chest as your mouths moved, magnificently in sync.

After your kiss, you and Seokjin continued through the forest. Seokjin, just as he mentioned, led you through expertly. You watched in amazement as he weaved you through every trap and navigated the unclear forest paths. Even when faced with unexpected monsters, Seokjin maintained his cool and swiftly killed them as if it was second nature.

(Although, he did complain about getting blood on his brand new top and singing the bottom of his pants when he nearly missed a fire trap).

The next few hours passed wonderfully with Seokjin and his comedic commentary, and you imagine that the journey would have been miserable with anyone else. When he announced that you were almost at the end of the gorge’s forest, you felt a ray of hope shine within you. Perhaps this would be the moment you’d dreamt of for the past two years. Maybe this was your second chance at life with Jin. Your excitement grew as you walked towards the visible clearing ahead, eager to leave the gorge with Jin at your side.

But of course, the prospect of being able to flee with Seokjin was too good to be true. You were right in your words before after all — Prince Donghae had found you.

[unmaskedagain]

Marinette’s Week Off

This is a one-shot. Sorry, I kind of forgot Adrien.

           One week. Just one week. Marinette took one week off a year. One week where she didn’t work herself to death as Marinette. Or nearly get herself killed as Ladybug. One week where she didn’t do any favors, any designs, didn’t work in the bakery, didn’t save anyone. A week to relax. A week to meditate. A week to destress and just take care of herself. Just one week every year. To prepare for it she sent reminders to all her friends and family. She posted a flyer on the class bulletin board. Marinette finished all her commission and school work in advance. 

She made Fu aware that Ladybug wouldn’t be active, told Chat Noir that Queen Bee would be his partner while she was gone. Marinette always made sure everyone was prepared for her absence. And made it clear that she would be unavailable. No matter what. She didn’t care if the world was ending.

           However, this year was different than the ones that came before. For starters, Marinette now only had two or three good friends in class, and one or two mediocre ones. She only warned those three people. While she still posted her usual flyer, she had done it knowing it would be disregarded.

           Marinette was no longer class president either; she no longer had to plan class trips, parties, or dances. Or anything of the sort. When she was class president, Marinette always made sure to plan her week off around the class’s busiest time of the year. That year, she didn’t have to so she didn’t. In fact, she planned her week off during the biggest dance of year, the class musical, the class’s big fundraiser. It was usually her most stressful week of the year.

           Not this time.

           On the Friday before her week off, Marinette reminded Bustier of her absence for the next week, and then walked out of class with a relieved smile on her face. She was almost there. Just two more days. She used her weekend to finish up any last minutes details of her vacations; confirm her reservation; spend most of the time with her parents.

           And on the stroke of midnight that turned Sunday to Monday, Marinette got her bags, kissed her parents goodbye and was gone in her Uber. She knew how this week worked. By six am, the ‘emergency’ calls would start; everyone screaming fire. However, she wouldn’t be there to put them out, metaphorical fires or real ones.

Not today, Satan, Marinette thought.

           Marinette got to the airport, slept on the plane ride, arrived at her luxury beach resort, a little after sunrise. She had saved up her money and did extra commissions all year to pay for it. It was beautiful. However, there was just one problem…

“Marinette, love!” Jagged called, somehow looking more awake in the wee hours of the morning than he did at 3 in the afternoon. Penny, however, looked half-asleep. Even Fangs slept on the luggage being moved by a rather fearful looking bellhop.

           Marinette’s parents couldn’t get time off the bakery; it was their busiest time too. Her grandma was in Peru. Mariette needed an adult with her at the resort. Jagged happened to overhear her mother asking if she found a chaperone yet. It wasn’t like Marinette had any other options.

“I have so many Rockin’ plans!” Jagged said. “Scuba diving! Sky diving. Swimming with sharks. Parasailing! Bungee jumping!”

           Marinette narrowed her eyes at her favorite rockstar and honorary Uncle, “Sleep.” She said.

           Jagged waved her off, “We’ll sleep when we’re dead.”

“Sleep,” Marinette hissed darkly.

           As amazing as that all sounded it could wait. Marinette was there to relax, not fight a shark. “Not today, Satan,” She whispered when she checked into her room. Leaving Penny to drag away a protesting Jagger to get some sleep as well. She called her parents to let her she had gotten there safely, called to re-confirm her spa reservation for that afternoon and then check her texts.

           She had gotten quite a few as expected. Chloe wishing her a good vacation and promising to keep an eye on Chat. Luka sent her funny vacation memes. Nathaniel sent pics or didn’t happen texts; he found the possibility of Marinette all people actually taking a vacation hilarious and improbable. She’d show him though.

           Then there were a few texts from her ex-friends. And it seemed like the fires had started…

           When class started on Monday, most didn’t realize that Marinette wasn’t there until Bustier reminded Chloe to remind Chloe about the test next week. They all shrugged it off. Glad not to have to deal with the drama Marinette brought to class.

           When Alya, the new class president, brought up the dance that Friday, things got a little tense.

“We need volunteers,” The glasses-wearing girl said. “People to decorate and to clean up and all that. We also need to get decorations.”

           She received confused looks.

“Isn’t that your job?” Alix asked. “The class president does all that.”

           Alya crossed her arms, “No it’s not my job. I organize and plan but I can’t do everything by myself.”

“Marinette did,” Kim shrugged. “It can’t be that hard.”

“Do you wanna do it?” Alya asked him but he quickly shook his head. “Thought so. We don’t have a big budget. So can anyone chip in for decorations and food?”

           Mylene frowned, “Marinette made all the decorations and food.” They never had to chip in before. “Maybe she’d do it again.”

There were nods. They may not be friends with the girl anymore but she was still very helpful.

“OH! I need a dress,” Rose brightened up the room with her smile. “Marinette made mine last year. It was so beautiful. I’ll ask her to make another.”

           A few of the girls said the same.

“Not gonna happen,” Chloe smirked. “You guys are on your own.”

           Alya shot her a glare. “And we’ll be just fine.” She wasn’t happy about asking her ex-bestie for anything, anyway.

           They were not fine.

           Monday they had all talked a big game about not needing Marinette but by Tuesday, they realized that was a lie.

           Because everything was falling apart.

           Mylene’s musical was Friday, the day before the dance. More than half the class were either in it or helping with it. That meant Alya had barely any volunteers for the Dance committee. And had been reminded by Bustier about the annual fundraiser they did every year to pay for the class trip. Alya had been class president since the beginning of the year, and had been responsible for planning it. She had forgot all about it.

           Alya was confident she managed though. They’d pull in enough money to pay for the entire trip and she’d get to rub it in Marinette’s face that no one needed. Alya hoped Lila was back in time from her trip with Prince Ali to see it.

           In addition, neither she nor Bustier seem to remember that the fundraiser was always biggest because it was the last one of the year. Marinette usually had done several different ones by then.

           Mylene was struggling. None of the sets were done. The costumes were terrible. The entire play seemed to be falling apart. They had forgot to only put up flyers promoting the play but they never even made them. She didn’t understand, normally everything would be going as smooth as silk by then. Silk…

“Marinette,” She gasped. Yes, she remembered, Marinette always helped out with the school plays. The Bluenette would fix the costumes. She’d even help out with the flyers and the set. Mylene pulled out her phone and quickly called her ex-friend. It went to voice mail. She frantically sent a dozen texts, all screaming emergency. But she never got a reply.

           Marinette laid on the beach, drinking virgin Pina Colada, while talking with a boy she met while surfing and subtly eyeing him. He was a seventeen-year-old, tanned, dark haired Adonis, literally named Adonis. He was ripped in a way Marinette had only every previously seen on guys in magazines or on TV. Marinette was fifteen, (Sixteen in just a few months) had grown remarkably into her looks, and smirked a bit every time she caught Adonis eyeing her back.

“I got to go,” Adonis said. “Work.” He leaned a bit closer to Marinette. “If you wanna drop by, I wouldn’t mind. Maybe we can go for a swim together.”

Marinette flushed with excitement and blushed a lovely pink by the offer, “That sounds amazing! What do you do?”

           He grinned a sparkling white smile that lit up his gray eyes, and caused Marinette to let out a dreamy sigh. “I work with my dad. We do underwater scuba tours and explore sea wildlife and dormant underwater volcanos. We just got be careful to avoid sharks.”

           Marinette’s fell open, and she just stared at the older boy for a moment, “I’m a little busy today. But can we meet up later,” She squeaked.

           They said they goodbyes. And once Adonis was out sight, Marinette’s eyes narrowed, “Not today, Satan.”

           An image of the first time saw Adonis suddenly floated to the front of her mind. Adonis coming out of the water, with his surfer board and red swim trucks, running towards dry land.

           Marinette took a deep breath to stead herself; fight the urge to go running after Adonis. Because there was no way in hell she was going to deal with a “Dormant” volcano. And she didn’t mess with sharks. Neither did Jagged anymore and he had to learn his lessons the hard way. He was lucky to come back with all his limbs.

           By Wednesday, everyone was panicking. Alya refused to give in and attempted to rally her troops; with a divide and conquer plan. Lila had even come back early and graciously offered to take time away from her busy schedule to help. Alya decided they’d work on the play first. Then prepare for the dance, it shouldn’t take that long to decorate anyway, Alya had guess. Then finally they work on the fundraiser.  Everything would go perfectly.

           …Everything went wrong.

           They worked the entire morning on the Mylene’s musical. They tried to work on the costumes. But they had no one who could fix the costumes. Any tailor they went to cost an arm and a leg. Lila’s personal tailor was away helping the Duchess of Manchester with her wedding dress. Max could print flyer but only generic ones. Not the creative ones Marinette had always made. And it wasn’t like they could ask Nathaniel for help without him spitting acid at them. The sets had to be rushed; and ended up poorly painted. Not even close to as good as the ones Marinette had help do the year before and even worse than the ones other classes had done. To make matters worse, the light fixtures they had installed started a small fire.

           Mylene had a full blown panic attacked that caused one of the strongest Akuma Queen Bee and Chat Noir had ever faced.

           The musical had taken up most of the day. So Alya and the class spent the rest of it and most of the night trying to prepare for the dance. The problem was their budget was small. Apparently it had always been that small which had shocked Alya and the others as they remembered the amazing dances Marinette had always thrown. The only decorations came from the local party story and were as cheap as possible. But they hadn’t gotten nearly enough when they got to gym and fully realize the size of it. But most of their budget was already shot on what they did get.

           While for the last few years, Marinette’s had supplied most of the food for the dances from the bakery. It was clear to Alya that, it wouldn’t be happening. Most of the class had been banned from the shop. Alya ended up having to buy dollar store chips and drinks; and ended up with a cliché fruit punch bowl.

           Everyone got in trouble with their parents for being out so late. Even if they had been at school. All the kids were exhausted and overly stressed. When Alya got home that night, she got a text from Nino that caused her to burst into tears. His DJ gear had fried. They had no music for the dance.

           Not to mention Alya hadn’t even thought about the fundraiser. What was she going to do? What could she do?

           Alya cried herself to sleep. Knowing that in the morning she’d have to swallow her pride and call in the big guns. She needed Marinette. They all did.

           Marinette was having the time of her life. She laughed as let Heinrich and Mila twirl her around the dance floor. She was at a local teen club, out late, and truly partying for the first time in her life. He was a sixteen-year-old, six foot tall, blond, gorgeous fut-baller, with cheekbones that could cut glass. He had come to the city with his team for a charity match all the way from Germany. Mila was a beautiful redhead from Ireland, with startling blue eyes and a face dusted with freckles. She was a futballer too and was the most competitive person Marinette had ever met.

           Marinette had met the futball players, the girls’ team and the boys’ team at the beach. When the girls realized they only had five plays to the boys’ six and needed another girl. They saw Marinette alone and invited her to play. They all had a blast. Afterwards, they invited her to the club that night.

           Marinette had danced with everyone. However, somehow she had found herself smashed between Heinrich and Mila, more often than anyone else.

           The three laughed their way off the dance floor when Tonya, a local girl with green hair, and a futballer herself, had waved them over.

“We’re going to Fairy Ridge,” Tonya shouted over the music.

           Marinette’s interest was piqued. “Fairy Ridge?”

           Tonya answered happily, “It’s beautiful at night. An underground cave, near the ocean. It has this opening at the top and you can see all stars. It has a bunch of colorful crystals that glow in the moonlight, and fill up the cave.”

“Sweet,” Mila said, her arm still around Marinette. “Sounds like a party, mate.”

           Everyone agreed quickly. But Marinette wasn’t too sure. It was really late to the point where Jagged would be proud when she got back. Penny had made Marinette promise to avoid doing anything that would make Jagged proud; apart from the Bluenette’s usual awesomeness of course.

“You are coming, yes, Marinette?” Heinrich gave her his most charming smile that made Marinette go weak in the knees.

“Marinette, the ridge is so cool,” Tonya exclaimed, a bright smile on her face. “It’s supposed to be magic. They say fairies used to really live there. It’s cursed. They say all who enter are given a test of worth. Those who pass are stolen away to live under fae rule forever more as a fairy.”

           Marinette just looked at her. She thought of Tikki, the small magical god of creation, who was enjoying her vacation in the luxury sweet as well. When Marinette left her, she had been in a bowl of cookies finally getting caught up on Game of Thrones. A god who’s power turned Marinette into a magical superhero. Magical was real. And if A kwami was real, fairies could be too.

           The bluenette pursed her lips, and feigned a look of disappoint, “Sorry, guys. It’s so late. I’m already super passed my curfew. You guys go. We’ll hang tomorrow, okay?”

           The other teens expressed their disappointment, though Mila and Heinrich tried to convince her a bit more as they left the club. Jagger’s personal driver already waited for her.

           Once they had parted ways, Marinette got into the car and drove off. She waved brightly to the backs of the beautiful teens, “Not today, Satan.”

           Thursday, the entire class was freaking out. They had all gotten there early, desperate to try to fix the mess they were in. Even Alya could admit she needed some serious help. They all waited for Marinette to show up. Surely, it had to be back by now, right? They needed her!

           When the school bell rang starting class, and once again, Marinette didn’t appear. Alya nearly screamed. “Where is she?” She asked. “Marinette can’t miss this much school!”

“She’s not replying to my texts,” Mylene said, her eyes frantic with worry. Her boyfriend Ivan tried to calm her down.

“She never got back to me either,” Rose frowned. “Normally I’d get a bunch of questions asking about the style of wanted for my dress by now.”

           Alya stomped her foot. “Marinette hasn’t answered a single of calls. What part of S.O.S doesn’t she understand? The dance is falling apart. I have no idea what to do about the fundraiser on Sunday. We need her. I swear if that girl lost her phone again…”

“You’ll do what?” Surprising it was Nathanial who asked this. There was silence at his questions. “That’s what I thought. You’ll do nothing. One, because you have no right to text the girl you disowned as a friend and ridiculed for the last year for help. Two, you couldn’t take Marinette in a fight with everyone in this class helping you. And three, you’re the one who turned down her offers to help all year; citing that you didn’t need her. You don’t get to beg for help at the last minute, and be surprised that she can’t do it.” The speech had turned into an angry rant by the end as the once quiet redhead glared at them with poorly concealed disgust.

           Chloe knew bringing Nathanial into their fold had been a smart idea. She sent a vicious smile to the class, “Marinette’s on vacation. She won’t be back until Monday.” Chloe relaxed in her seat. “For her ex-friends; it’s her one week. You should know what that means”

           There were gasps. Alya’s face drained of color. They all knew what that meant. Marinette was gone in the wind, and she wouldn’t come back or answer her phone even if fire rained from the sky as furbys finally revealed the truth of their evilness and declared themselves the new rules of earth.

           They were on their own.

           Lila watched with a frown as her classmates fell apart. She didn’t think this would happened when she got Alya to replace Marinette as class president. Who knew the idiots could survive without the girl?

“No dresses,” Rose realized. All the girls in class looked ready to cry. Marinette always made their dresses, always. What were they going to do? They never saved up any money for a dress because they never had to before.

           Mylene started crying, “The play is ruined.” She sobbed. “I worked so hard on it.”

“What about the fundraiser?” Alix asked. “So much for going to New York or anywhere! Our class trip is ruined!”

           Bustier looked at a loss of what to do as her student began to panic. “Now everyone calm down. Breath.” She said calmly. “It. Will. Be. Fine.”

           Alya paced around the class, her hair wild, her eyes bloodshot from the lack of sleep. “Ok, we can do this! I can do this!” She hissed. “I don’t need Marinette. I’ve never needed Marinette!” She looked around at the class. “None of us do. Anything she can do, we can do better, right?” Some looked unsure but Alya manage to rally everyone. “We can get our own dresses!” She yelled. “We can decorate our own dance. We fix the school play. And we will do the fund raiser. Without her, who need that bully anyway?”

           Nathaniel and Chloe shared a look and rolled their eyes. This would be good.

           The next few days would go down in Bustier’s class history as the worst three days of the students’ lives. And the most embarrassing.

           Barely anyone showed up for Mylene’s musical. None of the costumes were finished. The sets were a disaster. The actors were so frazzled, they couldn’t remember their lines. Three people walked out. One of them was Kim’s grandmother. Kim who had been one of the lead actors.

           On the day of Mylene’s play, Marinette woke up from her second nap of day to Penny banging on her door. When the bluenette opened it, the woman screamed, “Get ready!”

“What?” Marinette yawned, still half-asleep.

“Get. Ready. Now,” Excitement shown in the older woman eyes. She bounced around the room, opened Marinette’s closet and started throwing out clothes. “Hurry!”

“Why?” It was her vacation. Marinette didn’t want to rush. Or move.

“Zac Efron,” Penny squealed. That got Marinette’s attention and it was all Marinette need to shoot to attention and start scrambling to get ready. “Tom Holland, and Zendaya are filming a movie on an island close by. Jagged got us passed to go set.”

           As Marinette got dressed she asked, “What’s the movie about?”

           Penny gave a dreamy sigh, “Pirates and adventures. It’s a musical. Zendaya plays a kickass pirate who takes control of her father’s ship after he dies to rescue her genius half-brother, played by Tom Holland, who managed to figure out the location of the greatest treasure in all of history, from the evil Pirate King, played by Zac Efron.”

“Now that’s a musical I’d watch,” Marinette finished her make up in the mirror.

“And get this!” Penny paused for dramatic effect. “Harry Styles is the love interest. He supposed to be on set sometime this week.”

           Marinette screamed.

           They took a helicopter to the island. It was the best day of her life. She got to meet the goddess that was Zendaya, Her real life prince charming Tom Holland, and the man of her dreams Zac Efron. They were nice. They were sweet. They took so many pictures and videos with her.

           When Jagged mentioned Marinette designed most of his wardrobe. Marinette even got to show off her sketch book she had brought when the cast was too busy and it got boring. Zendaya commissioned a dress. She nearly right there.

           Then the director got a call, “Okay Harry’s arrived. He’s waiting at the cave. Time to shoot the act 5, scene 1.”

           They all moved to leave.

“Cave?” Marinette found herself asking.

           Penny nodded, “Its historically accurate. The real life Captain Wolfblood, the guy who’s treasure everyone wants, supposedly buried his there. Pirates fought and died there all the time trying to find it. Supposed to be cursed. So whoever died was bound there for eternity; their ghosts protect the treasure. Killing all who enter their domain.”

           Marinette found herself stopping in her tracks, “Pirate Ghosts.” She stated. “Cursed treasure.”

“Harry Styles…” Penny sang, causing Jagged to give her a sour look.

           Harry Styles… For the first time that vacation Marinette was tempted to go. Tempted to risk pirates’ curses and murderous ghosts just to see the man who had caused ten-year-old Marinette to write Mrs. Harry Styles in her diary for a month.

“I actually have to facetime my parents,” Marinette frowned. “Reception terrible out here.”

           After promising to meet them for dinner, Marinette booked it off the island. As it faded from sight, and all her wishes of being the future Mrs. Harry Styles burned, she whispered, “You stepped of your game. I’m impressed.” She glared at the window. “But Not today, Satan.”

           The dance was a catastrophe. Everyone in class could admit to that. All the girls wore their dresses from the year before. For the first time, there was no live performance. Just Nino’s play music from his phone. Until it died midsong. They forgot to get helium for the balloons, so they had to blow them up themselves. The chips were stale. The punch tasted like rotten bananas. No one alerted the proper staff regarding the dance so no one warned the janitor not to wax the gym floor the night before. Five kids hurt themselves. Alya forgot to get chaperones. And found Damocles and Mendeleiev shut down the entire dance before it even got passed its first hour.

           The night of the dance would go down as the best night of Marinette’s life. The director from the day before had liked Marinette so much that gave her the role of Lunaris, mermaid princess, originally played by an actress who had backed out of the role at the last second. Like literally right before they were supposed to shoot her scenes. It was a small role; Marinette didn’t have many lines and only two songs to herself (and fillers song lines throughout the movie). Plus she died. (The entire part took five days to film, and Marinette ended up staying on her vacation an additional two days. Her parents instantly approved; wanting their daughter away from the drama of her ex-friends. However, Marinette would be called in for additional reshoots and scenes, a month later. Then more after that as they would expand her role) She spent the entire time in a mermaid costume. Up until the last act of the movie.

           However, her character was in love with Harry Styles’ character, a mermaid prince who became human for chance to win the love of Zendaya’s character. Her character more or less had been the prince’s childhood best friend who never admitted to being in love with him until it was too late. She had spent the entire movie supporting him to win the main character’s heart. Her first song was sang as she helped him escape the underwater kingdom to go to his true love while she hid her own; choosing to put him before herself. The next day it was revealed that they were supposed to have been betrothed and united their kingdoms. Her second song happened after she chose to fight on land to save her friend and taking a killing blow for him; she died singing to the prince about not waiting to tell someone you love until its’ too late; especially if the love’s worth dying for. Or walking on land for.

           After shooting her scenes for the day; she was invited by the cast to go meet Chris Heimsworth who was vacationing at a nearby island resort. They were going to go budging jumping of the highest mountain on the Island, near shark infested waters. Again Marinette only had one thing to say to that, “Not today, Satan.” She was not going to fight a shark. Not that week. No matter how much she loved Thor. (She’d later find out Tom Hiddleston was there and cry.)

           The fundraiser had cost more than it raised. That was all anyone was willing to say on the subject. Particularly Alya who was missing her eyebrows.

           The day of the fundraiser, the Day Marinette was supposed to return home, was bliss. At the end of it, Marinette found herself watching the sunset with Jagged and Penny.

“We should visit mermaid isle,” Penny suggested. “I heard it’s magical. There’s a spot that grants wishes… At a price.”

           Marinette didn’t bother to ask for anymore. She just smiled, “Not today, Satan.”

           The next morning, the Monday Marinette should have already been back home, instead she was getting ready to shoot some more scene for the movie. Then she got a call.

“Hey Marinette!” Kimi, the director, said. “We were hoping you could come in early today. We have to shoot your death scene.”

“Oh! Sweet! Where?”

“Shark cove. It will be perfect,” Kimi said cheerfully. “This time before your last breath, Harry’s going to kiss you goodbye. So eat a mint.”

           Marinette mind froze. Kiss… Harry? “Shark cove?”

“Yeah, we’ll have to be careful not to attract any, you know?” Kimi sighed. “It’ll be a bit dangerous. You okay with that?”

           The bluenette wanted to scream no way. But it was a new week. “I’m there,” She said firmly. For a kiss from Harry Styles, she’d do anything.

           Vacation time was over. Marinette was going to fight a shark.

           When Marinette returned to school on Wednesday, it was to the frustrated faces of her classmates. None of them talked to her. Just glared coldly. Though Alya did give her a sarcastic, welcome back.

           Marinette just shrugged and went to sit at her desk next to Chloe and Nathaniel, who were both grinning.

“How was it?” Marinette asked them.

           Nathaniel smirked, “Epic! Three fires. Two poisonings. A kid broke his leg. Four more ended up in the emergency room.”

“The play was a disaster,” Chloe added. “The dance was shut down after an hour. The fire department came to the so called fund raiser. You were gone for little more than a week and these morons nearly got themselves killed like four times.”

“We got in on video!” Nathaniel laughed.

           Marinette laughed.

           She looked at the stressed and embarrassed students of Bustier’s class, even the teacher looked worse for wear.

           Marinette smirked.

           Somebody obviously needed a vacation. Or rather… Everybody.

[starr-fall-knight-rise]

Humans are Space Orcs, “Not like this.”

Hope you guys all have a great day :) 

Hijan was sitting on a patch of red moss staring out at the red sky over the distant volcanoes. A dull ache rose up in her carapace, though it was one she could mostly ignore. It was going to rain later, that much she could tell from the red of that distant sky.

Upon her lap lay a long spear chipped and worn with age, though its point was still as sharp as ever.

She heard the footsteps while they were still a ways away, below the bluff. SHe didn’t bother to look up knowing who it was…. The sentinel, her only son: Hasan.

He walked over to where she was standing, but did not sit with her.

She looked up mildly confused.

His face was somber.

“Hasan, is something wrong.”

He bowed his head to her, “Mother, there has been some… news.”

She stood, not liking the sound of this. Her joints were a little stiff, but she managed just fine, “What news?”

Hasan lowered his head, “Word was brought by messenger early this morning. The Drev counselor for the GA is calling the Drev war clans to arms if they would be willing to fight.”

He tapped her spear against the stone, “And how does this concern us?”  her son had always been a believer in the old ways, and was generally not interested in the outside politics of non-drev nations.

He lowered his head, “Mother… I… we received word. He’s dead.”

Hijan crossed her arms, a little habit she had picked up from her other son (adopted son) a human, “Who?”

“Tanan…. Uh…. Tsata, he’s dead.”

A quiet crept over them. Tsata: the name of that very same adopted human, the small helpless, squishy human she had helped turn into a warrior. 

“What?”

“They were attacked by an enemy called the Burg.His ship was destroyed, and he was lost.”

Hijan blinked, staring at her son. Something about this didn’t seem real. Perhaps it was the way that her son talked about the outsider, in a way of respect she had never seen. How he lowered his head at the mention of his name, “Was his death honorable?” She finally wondered.

The pause grew even longer and she saw the answer in his face before he spoke, “The burg tricked them. They distracted the rest and set up a machine to do the work for them….  Their tactics were dishonorable.”

Hijan felt her hands clench, but she did not go to move, instead stepping forward slightly. She rested a hand on the shoulder of her son, “Thank you for bringing this to me.” She said softly, “I know my love for him has always confused you.”

Hasan shook his head, “No mother, I understand .”

They didn’t say more than that, and hijan moved quickly back to her hut.

She stood in the open doorway for a long moment before moving inside and picking u her things, pulling on the old armor crafted for her by her father once long ago. She picked up her battle partner’s old spear and rested it against her shoulder before turning from the door and stepping outside.

The horizon was warm to the east, and she began to walk.

SHe was alone for only a few minutes before the clatter of armor followed after her.

She turned , surprised to find,rows of drev warriors following her from the village interior. Even the children came confused their heads turned towards the village.

She paused as Hasan walked over the stone looking regal in his armor, and powerful with the cape billowing at his back.

“What are you doing Hasan?”

“Taking up the call to arms.”

She shook her head, “But our village.” “Can be retaken.”

“Why?”

“They have killed a member of our clan, thus declaring war on us. We will answer the call.”

Hijan was quiet for a moment, then lowered her head in deference to her son thankful, and proud.

He walked past her towards the front fo the column and barked the orders to head out.

***

Eris floated absently from one room to the other. Voices echoed to her from all sides, and she based quietly in the glow of freedom. Floating, she let her hands trail out to the sides ribbons billowing at her back, dark hair rolling around her waist. She was letting it grow out, she thought it made her look nice.

“Give it back!”

“No!” “Its not fair!”

She cracked an eye and floated into the next room.

Glados and Hal were facing off against each other crouched low to the ground, now as big as large dogs, the two of them could cause some mess when they got into a fight.

“WHat is going on here.” She asked 

Hal turned, “She stole it and she wont give it back!”

She frowned turning to look at Glados hearing the choleric voice inside her head as she denounced her brother for being a tattle tail.

“Glados, give it back, you have toys of your own.”

“But i WANT that one.”

“We don’t always get what we want gladoes, and we certainly don't take from other people.” Glados sighed but gave it back apologizing only grudgingly when she was ordered to by Eris. Hal stuck out his tongue and scuttled away.

Eris shook her head, Glados was getting better, but her first year of life certainly had not helped her. Living aboard a ship, being raised by a dog, and a struggling human who wasn’t ready for parenthood could do that to a person. Of course, not to say that their father had been bad, he was just…. Young and inexperienced, too much love and not enough discipline for the young spiderlings.

She smiled at the thought. He would probably half freak out if he knew she considered him a father. She had never had one, and he was as good a man as any to pick. She didn’t ind that he couldn’t fulfil that roll, it was more about the knowledge that at least someone cared than anything else.

She sensed rather than saw it coming.

She could hear the internal voice, feel it’s nervous sadness. She owned and made her way over to the facility door pulling it open well before their guests had arrived. She peered outside and as soon as the door was out from between her and the visitors, she froze in shock and horror.

Two people stood before her, a man with spiked green hair, and a tesraki, friends of their father’s, from the LFIL

“No…. no no, it can’t be true.”

The human reached out a hand and gently put a hand on her arm, “I’m sorry.”

“No… no…. He can’t be I… he just can’t.”

Hearing the distress in her voice hal and Glados came scuttling towards the door as did the other hybrids. Glados growled, knowing Eris was upset but not sure why. She put her head in her hands tears rolling down her cheeks, “No.” How was she going to tell them that he was dead? She didn’t believe it herself.

***

Krill floated high in the air.

He hated this, he hated this, he hated every single last moment of it. He hated the big tree things, he hated the animals, he hated the strong breeze, and he certainly hated the pack of roaming land shark things circling below him. Ten days on this planet, ten days in hell where he had been hunted, hounded, and nearly killed repeatedly and to his great and everlasting displeasure. He had looked for the commander but found no sign of him, knowing that it was more than possible they could have landed on different continents.

Krill was pretty sure he was going to die here, and that was not a thought that he particularly enjoyed, but was slowly resigning himself to. HE floated off in the other direction, leaving the circling predators wandering in confusion below him and moved off in another direction.

He was high up now, kind of towards the top of the trees, where he could see large red fruits dangling from their very tops. He had seen red debris on the ground below some of those trees, implying that to spread their seeds they dropped those massive fruits from a few thousand feet like a fruity nuclear warhead.

Not a great way to die, being smashed by giant space fruit in the head.

He sighed.

He was up there for a while before it happened, and watched as a small black dot broke off from the top of one of the trees, at first he assumed it was just something falling to earth, but when the thing picked up on a gust of wind and began heading towards him, he got a bad feeling.

He pushed in mid air doing his best to try and get a better look at whatever it was.

He didn’t like what he saw, as the giant razor beak flying creature winged all the way towards him. He hoped it wasn’t coming towards him ,but was proven wrong almost instantly. He turned around with shock and horror and began floating in the other direction.

It made a loud cawing noise.

It was getting closer 

Krill was ongoing to be able to outlast this thing. He turned to factit, watching as the massive creature grew larger in his vision. He was almost upon him now stretching out its talons.

Krill deflated his helium sack, plummeting out from between its grasp and towards the earth.

The creature flew in a  confused circle, and krill flailed as the wind shipped past him and the ground rose up to meet him. A sudden burst, and he inflated just before hitting the ground landing with panic and shaking looking around for preditors he was sure had come looking for him.

HE frozen in shock and fear, eyes wide.

***

I sighed and set the radio down. It had been more than  a long shot. The radio was pretty strong. Back on earth it could have gotten a message out from the middle of BFE, but it was unlikely to make it very far off an alien planet. I sighed and stowed the thing back in y bag. I knew it had been a long shot for sure, but a gun cn hope.

Besides, I had planned to come up here, on top of this hill anyway, to get a better look of the land. At my side, I carry a large stick, and at the head I have managed to slot a pretty well crafted spearhead into a slot.

It was the only thing Hian had been able to teach me to make.

As it turns out I am horrible at building things.

Like seriously.

I am super shit at it.

But a weapon was better than nothing. Spear in my hand, knife at my belt, and a backpack made out of plant material over one shoulder, I headed down the hill feet shuffling softly through sand. The plant matter slippers I had made weren’t great, but you now what sucks more than Biblical Adam’s wardrobe? 

Being stabbed in the foot by a rock.

I am still walking down the hill wondering just how much cancer I am going to have from all this sunlight on my bare chest and back when I hear it, a soft thudding noise, growing louder and louder by the second. I drop my pack and spin around spear at the ready. The ferns behind me rattle and sway, and a moment later a creature comes bursting through the trees heading straight for me.

A surprised scream breaks from my lips as I dive to the side.

The creature lets off a gurgling bugle noise and rushes towards me again. It ahs bright shimmering blue skin and a line of spikes down its back. Two large claw pincers hang at the front of it’s body, and it runs on two back legs. IT charges at me again, and this time I can’t run. It swipes at me with one of its claw things, but I catch it with the edge of my spear.

The wood sends a painful shock wave up into my arms.

It screams and I scream back kicking at it.

I catch it in the stomach and it jolts back, but that only seems to piss it off. It races for me again and I am just barely able to hold it off as it scrambles over sand. Dust is kicked up into the air around us.

I pull away and stab at it with the head of the spear cutting straight into one of its joints and pulling out with a sickening crunch. It screams and lunges for me. I slip on a fallen fern, my leg sliding to the side.

It catches me high on the chest, and a gout of fire seems to erupt from my torso.

 I scream in agony and hit my back hard.

IT jumps forward on top of me now its teeth snapping at my neck.

I stick the spear in its mouth.

Its back legs kick and beat my thighs gouging open my left leg.

A burst of agony rips through me. It backs up trying to get the shaft of the spear out of its mouth. In that time I reach down, grab my knife and sit up driving it once, twice, three times into the thing's neck. It staggers back and I leap forward tackling it to the ground and repeatedly stab it.

Over and over and over again.

My teeth are gritted.

I scream like an animal and continue to stab even long after it has stopped moving. Exhaustion overtakes me. I am lying on top of its corpse bloody hand still gripping the knife buried in its neck. My body begins to shake, I am breathing hard. The pain hits me in rolling waves as I look down at myself covered in blood.

I am gasping forehead now resting against its shoulder 

I am dead.

I know it 

I scream through the pain as I roll to the side leaving great drops of blood behind me. I grab my spear and my knife clawing my way to my feet. I am dragging the bag behind me.

I stagger over the stone.

Ten days

Only ten days.

I limp forward 

Trip to my knees blood dripping onto the sand. It wasn’t supposed to happen like this.

I look up at the sky my vision beginning to fade, and then when I look down my eyes go wide and my heart stops. 

[prurientpuddlejumper]

Well This is Strange and Unexpected [Toshinori x Reader] [Part 1 of ?]

Part 2 ->

I tried to resist completely weebing out over My Hero Academia, but Toshinori’s siren call pulled me in. It’s weird writing for a fandom with more than 5 people in it, but oh well… I AM HERE! 

Summary: Female reader with a healing-ish quirk rescues a sickly stranger, and impulsively asks him out. Toshi is touched that someone would be attracted to him in his weak form, but weirder still… you don’t like All Might?!

3,990 words | SFW

A couple of guys were harassing him. One of them had him by the cuff of his shirt (which hung loosely on him, accentuating his shriveled size), snapping shark-like teeth, while the other one stood back and threateningly produced sparks from his fingertips. This wasn’t what you expected when you walked into the corner store, but not really surprising—this isn’t the best neighborhood.

They didn’t seem like real villains, at least. They were being careful not to actually use their quirks to do anything beyond intimidate, or else heroes might get involved.

Just assholes bullying an easy target.

The guy they were picking on didn’t seem too worried either, despite being the most fragile-looking man you’ve ever seen. Gaunt cheeks and deeply sunken eyes—everything about him, in fact, giving the impression of a zombie—with a mop of blond hair that was just as oversized as his clothes. He looked more annoyed at his current situation than anything, glancing over his shoulder and scowling like he’d left the oven on at home.

You couldn’t help but smile at his attitude.

Shark-face and sparky weren’t as charmed. “Hey! Are we boring you, grandpa? Learn a little respect!” They shove him forward and back between each other until he doubles over in pain, wheezing and coughing blood. That can’t be from anything they did. Come to think of it, they’re in the medicine aisle. Wow, they decided to pick on a sick guy. They push him to the floor while he’s still hacking and convulsing, struggling to breathe. Your fists clench at your sides.

“I don’t have time for this right now,” the zombie growls, wiping the blood from his lips like a boxer who just took a punch and is ready to deal it back. Except they barely had to touch him. He could be in trouble if this turns into a serious fight.

His ice-colored eyes dart around the room, looking for something, anything he can turn to his advantage, like a desperate, wounded animal. A news report of some big drawn-out fight with All Might earlier today plays on a TV above the register. The cashier doesn’t look up. Other customers are in the store, but nobody is paying any attention—nobody wants to get involved.

You don’t want to get involved either, but…

The shark-tooth guy lands a kick to his ribs, shooting more blood out of the thin man’s mouth, while his accomplice cackles wildly. “That’ll wipe that smug look off your face!” He goes in to kick him again—

“STOP IT!” you shout, rushing forward to insert yourself between the bleeding man on the floor and his assailants. Adrenaline pulses in your veins. Your muscles shake. Thanks to your quirk, you’re not too scared of getting hurt, but you have no idea how to fight, or what to do next.

“What’s this?” the shark menaces, with a harsh laugh. “You his little girlfriend or something?”

Your cheeks flame, but before you can deny it, you think—they probably think a guy like that couldn’t get a girlfriend. They’re already bullying him for being weak. So you announce defiantly, “Yeah, maybe I am!”

“Really? This loser?” His jaw drops.

“All the more reason to break his face in,” the fire-starter snarls. “Then you can date a real man.” He steps in to your space, uncomfortably close, and runs his tongue over his lip. Your skin crawls. Ugh, why did I go and provoke him?

“M-miss, please don’t get involved.” Shaking, the pale blond struggles to his feet behind you. “It’s fine—” The other criminal shuts him up with a hand around his throat. His cold eyes narrow fiercely at the assailant, but his struggling does nothing to loosen his grip.

“Sure, I’ll go out with a real man. Know any?” you spit.

“Bitch!” he growls, and winds up to strike you, his fist suddenly engulfed in flame. Smoke (or is it steam?) begins to fill the room.

You drop to the floor before he ever touches you.

Then you start screaming.

“AAAHHHH, HELP!!!! WAAAHHH!” you cry in your most pathetic, high-pitched wail. “NOOOO, PLEASE DON’T HURT ME!! HELP!!! POLICE! POLICE!!!”

The blond guy has stopped kicking against his attacker’s grip, and the attacker has lost his zest for choking. They’re both just staring at you. So is everyone else in the store. Other customers are peeking over the tops of the aisles, or rushing over to help. Somebody asks, “Are they beating up a girl?”

“AAIIIIEEE!!! OW, OUCH!” you sob, clutching the imaginary wound on the side of your face.

The two troublemakers glance at each other. Then at the growing audience.

They drop the stranger and run.

Everyone is a little surprised when you’re suddenly all better, but they turn and go back to their shopping. “That was disgraceful,” says a stern voice above you. His ego was clearly hurt being rescued that way, but his eyes are warm as he offers you his hand and helps you up.

“You’re welcome,” you reply with a cheeky grin, brushing off your clothes.

“You didn’t have to get involved, you know. What was your plan if they didn’t run away? That was a risky gamble.”

“Nah. I know their type. They were counting on not drawing too much attention, that’s why they were going after a weak target… uh…”

The guy is pouting with a tragic look on his face. “Weak,” he repeats in a long, extended squeak. His shoulders fall, “It’s true.”

“Are you alright, anyway?”

“Me?” he perks up, giving a big smile to show he’s OK, and pointing a thumb at himself. “Don’t you worry about me, I’ll be fine. Thank you for hel—”

Blood gushes from his mouth, and he falls to the floor, unconscious.

****

Dammit, why’d I have to get jumped when I’m already way past my limit? I hate this weak body. Pathetic. I can’t protect anyone. Not even myself.

Everything is dark. Everything is quiet except for the steady pulse of his heart. Then he hears your voice, distant and small, calling to him. Slowly, the voice gets closer. The darkness fades. Yagi Toshinori feels himself coming back to life.

As his eyes open and his vision clears, he sees you, hovering over him. His lungs aren’t filled with blood anymore. In fact, he hasn’t felt this good since the last time Recovery Girl healed him. He looks up at you smiling back at him.

“Thank goodness,” you whisper. You cough, and blood runs down your chin.

****************************************************

“I don’t have a healing quirk. Not really,” you explain, wiping blood from your face. “I can’t make injuries go away, but I can transfer them between people. The neat part is, it isn’t all-or-nothing: I can absorb, say, 10 percent of a wound, and share the burden so we can both recover. But if I wanted to heal somebody all the way, I’d end up just as hurt. So, my quirk is honestly pretty useless.”

“That doesn’t sound useless at all. You helped me, didn’t you?” The stranger’s bright eyes are piercingly kind as they gaze up at you from their dark sockets. Even on the floor of the medicine aisle of a convenience store, with drying blood speckling his white shirt, he has an inspiring aura that makes you want to believe his compliments instead of brush them off.

“How are you feeling? I couldn’t heal you anywhere near all the way. Your body is… pretty messed up. UHHHH, sorry for using my quirk on you without permission! I… kind of know some private medical information about you now. Sorry.”

With great strain, he sits up on his elbows, and struggles to get to his feet, but is caught off balance by a fresh fit of coughing, and slumps back down. You offer him a hand. As soon as you’ve pulled him up, you are wracked by a bloody cough, and he quickly grabs your shoulder to keep you from stumbling.

“I’m sorry,” he says in a low voice, lanky bangs falling in front of his face. “You’re suffering now because of me.”

“It’s nothing, really. I only took a little; you’re the one who’s been suffering. Can I help you get home? Do you have anywhere close you can rest?”

He shakes his head. “You’ve already done too much for me, don’t worry. I’ll get a taxi.”

“In your condition?! No way. Why don’t you come home with me—my apartment is right across the street.” Your pulse starts racing. Did you just ask a stranger home? “Just to rest for awhile! Until you’re sure you won’t black out in the back seat of a cab.”

His razor-sharp cheeks flush with a tinge of pink. “That’s very kind, but… Really, this is normal for me.” He gives a carefree grin which is actually extremely tense.

“Then…” you ball your fists in determination, “will you go on a date with me?”

He stops cold. All he manages to make is a short, nonsensical string of vowels. You’re in shock at yourself, too. Your heart is pounding like crazy, but you’ve already gone this far.

“I mean, you said I’ve done too much for you, right? So, you can pay me back with a date!”

“Wha—” His entire face turns bright scarlet and his nonexistent eyebrows fly off his forehead. “Wha… but… uhhh. I. Um. What kind of date? (Is it really OK to ask for that kind of payment??)”

“I’ve got the latest Space Adventure movie and a bowl of microwave popcorn back at my apartment. I was going to watch it alone, but it would be more fun with company.”

His brow tents upward, and he gives a defeated whine, “You’re kind of devious, you know, miss!”

“What do you think about curry for dinner?”

His mop of hair falls over his face, and his shoulders begin to jerk. You can hear him laughing beneath it. Finally, he tosses his head back smiling—as his twin bangs fly upward, for a moment it reminds you of a certain hero. “OK, OK, I surrender!” he puts his hands up. “I’m clearly outmatched here. I’m Toshinori, by the way.”

 ****

After checking out of the store, you slowly limp your way home, practically carrying each other down the block. You offer him your arm for support. He insists on supporting you instead. You counter-insist. In the end, you wind up leaning against each other like a pair of drunks staggering home from the bar.

“So, you said you can ‘transfer injuries between people,’ not that you can transfer them to yourself. Does that mean you can transfer them back?”

“Well, yeah.”

“Then you should give it back to me right away!” he clenches his fist, and announces it with so much passion that passers-by stop to see if someone is being robbed. He softens his voice to a low rumble, and leans closer. “You shouldn’t be hurt on my account.”

“Don’t be ridiculous, you’d pass out again. You’re pretty thin but I still don’t wanna carry you.”

He mopes silently for a moment. You had him there. He bounces back from the sulk with academic curiosity. “Can you use your ability to transfer injuries to a third party, as an attack?”

“Yes, but…” You drop your gaze to the sidewalk. “I don’t ever want to use it that way.”

“Why not? It sounds like it would be a strong power for a hero.” Imagine how useful a quirk like that would be to pair with young Midoriya, healing him when he uses One For All at full strength, and simultaneously dealing out more damage to the bad guys.

“Are you kidding? Sucking wounds out of allies to use against an enemy? Their bones spontaneously snapping and shattering with a single touch? Their organs failing from an attack that never even hit them? Deciding who lives and who dies? It’s horrific.”

“Battle is always horrific, no matter how it’s done. But I understand what you mean.” He smiles. “It’s good that you don’t want to hurt people.”

“Besides, it only works through touch; I’d have a hard time grabbing onto a villain with my body broken.”

“That’s not the only way you could use it. If you honed your reflexes, you could reflect back the damage from a punch instantly. It would be like your opponent was punching themselves!” He excitedly throws a jab at the air with his free hand. “I’ve never heard of anyone with a quirk like that. You’re pretty special,” he adds with a smile.

A warmth blossoms in your chest. You’ve never been proud of your weird quirk, but the way he talked about it made you feel like maybe it was special. You never even thought about using it that way, and he came up with it in thirty seconds!

“Yeah, we could call you Mirror Girl, or Stop-Hitting-Yourself.”

“Well, I’m a little old to go after a hero license now, and naming things is clearly not your forte,” you stick out your tongue. “But thank you. What about you? Quirkless, right?”

“Something like that,” he answers nervously.

 ****

Your apartment is a small-but-cozy, slightly messy space at the top of a flight of stairs you would have described as “short” before having blood in your lungs. As soon as the door is open, Toshinori spots the couch and gratefully slumps onto it without hesitation, letting out a long sigh of relief. Remembering manners, he turns to you.

“Thank you… for everything, really. It was embarrassing to have to be rescued like that, but you were very brave, helping me even though you didn’t have to. You even thought of a way to get me to stop being so stubborn,” he laughs. “You were joking about the date, right? I promise I’ll take it easy and rest, you don’t have to pretend to be interested.”

Your skin grows hot and you’re suddenly hyper aware of everything your face is doing. On the walk over you’d gotten comfortable leaning on him, and kind of forgot you asked out a random guy you just met like some kind of psycho! But…

“I wasn’t kidding. Unless you don’t want to—I mean—not to pressure you, th-that is… I was kidding about the ‘you owe me’ part! I was just trying to get you to not run off on your own in this condition.” Maybe you can just dig a hole in your living room floor and hide in it? “But… I would like to go on a date with you.”

He’s completely taken aback. “You really want to go out with someone like me? Who can’t even protect himself?”

“Sure. You’re kinda my type, actually.”

“Are you serious?!”

You laugh a little at how shocked he’s acting. “Come on, it’s like you’ve never been asked out before.”

“Not like this I haven’t!” He blurts, then claps a hand over his mouth like he spilled a secret.

“Like… this?”

He grumbles and drops his shoulders. “You must have sensed it when you were using your quirk on me anyway, so there’s no point hiding it. I wasn’t always this weak.” He pulls up his shirt and reveals a grizzly web of scars and inflamed tissue taking up half of his left side. “An accident damaged a lot of my organs and completely destroyed my stomach. I’m barely patched together with everything medicine and healing quirks can do. There was a time those guys wouldn’t have been a problem for me.”

“Oh, wow.” Without thinking, you’re beside him on the couch, and your hands are on his mangled flesh, studying it with fascination. He draws in a sharp breath between his teeth.

You quickly take your hands off him. “Does it hurt?”

“N-no, just…” His eyes dart away.

Gasping, your hands fly to your mouth. “Oh my god, I’m so sorry! That was completely inappropriate, I should have asked! You must think I’m some kind of—I’m so sorry!”

“It’s OK, you just surprised me. You can go ahead, if you really want to…”

You bite your lip. Having to consciously decide to touch his bare skin makes it so much more embarrassing. It’s way too forward, right? Then again, you both agreed it was a date…

Slowly, you examine his wounds with your fingertips. You could tell something was off about his internal organs when you were hunting for damage to absorb from him, but this is unlike anything you’ve ever seen. Ridges of scars and sutures extend from his chest to his lower abdomen, and unlike an old wound that has properly healed, the tangled flesh is red and angry. There are a few fresh bruises blooming on his ribs from the kicks he took, which you have a matching set of, and some other recent injuries of mysterious origin. The most surprising thing is how muscular he is, considering his emaciated frame. He probably could have taken those guys in a fight, if not for the internal bleeding.

His breathing becomes rapid and shallow as you explore his body. Goosebumps raise on his skin everywhere that isn’t scar tissue. He swallows, hard.

“Aren’t you disgusted? I don’t usually show this off on the first date.”

“Not at all. I think it’s cool! Ah, I mean—ugh—sorry. It must be really painful for you, of course it’s not ‘cool,’ I just mean…” You hide your face in your hand with a groan. “I’m really messing this up, aren’t I?”

He chuckles softly at you. “I’m just glad you’re not freaked out. Most people react… differently.”

“Heh, well, honestly…” you peek out from between your fingers. “Frankenstein is my favorite book, so this look is actually really appealing.”

“Are you comparing me to the monster? That’s not a compliment!” he scolds theatrically, with a playful light in his eyes—before blood erupts from his mouth.

“Sorryyyyy!!!!” you laugh—before blood erupts from your mouth.

Tentatively, he reaches out, and rubs your back as you recover from coughing. His face was built to frown, and the deflated expression of regret etched deep into its sharp lines effortlessly slips back into place over the brief moment of levity.

“Did you absorb my respiratory damage? Those injuries are permanent, they’ll never heal— you have to give them back, right now.”

“Stop worrying so much. Chronic injuries are different; I’m not even sure if I can transfer them. Pretty sure it’s just inflammation that got aggravated from exerting yourself.”

His frown deepens. “You should still give it back.”

“I told you, don’t worry. It’s already feeling better. Anyway, if I did that, I’d be hurting you, and you know it’s illegal to hurt another person with a quirk.”

“…in that case, it was illegal to use your quirk in public in the first place…” he grumbles.

Quickly changing the subject, you point at the TV. “About that movie!”

 ****

Because of his total gastrectomy, Toshinori can’t eat anything too sweet, spicy, fibrous, or fatty, among a host of other things to avoid. Moreover, he can’t eat very much at once, so he has to be snacking constantly through the day.

Luckily, popcorn fits the bill, so you both sit on the couch with a big bowl of it between you, while laser weapons flash through space on the screen.

Halfway through the movie, he yawns sleepily, stretching his lanky arms over his head. As they come down, one of them lands awkwardly on the back of couch just behind your shoulder. Your head swivels. Your mouth hangs open. You stare at him, aghast.

“DID YOU JUST DO THE YAWN TRICK?”

“Uhh…” He stares stiffly forward at the TV screen, arm discreetly inching back up from whence it came.

“Seriously, this is a date. If you wanna cuddle, just go for it.” You move the popcorn bowl to the side, and snuggle into him under the offending arm. It is the world’s tensest cuddle, as you both question whether this is way too fast. But soon he relaxes, lowering his arm around you.

By the time the end credits roll, he’s laying with his head in your lap, half asleep, while you stroke his messy hair. “C-captain Wan…” you sniffle, wiping a tear from the corner of your eye. Toshinori stirs.

“I don’t get it. What were those snake things about?”

“What?! Haven’t you seen any of the Star Adventure series?”

“It’s a series?”

You sit, sputtering, opening and closing your mouth again. He sits up as you explain that this is the latest movie in a really famous franchise that has been out for decades, spanning television and the big screen—you thought he knew that!

“Ohh. I’m not really into nerd stuff.”

Before you can vibrate into an antimatter weapon and explode with enough force to tear open the space-time continuum, he laughs “kidding, kidding!” and tells you he still had fun. Charming bastard. Good thing he’s cute.

Next time, you promise to show him the first movie. Or make it up to him with something he’s more interested in. And you’ll be sure to have more snack options on hand!

“Next time, huh?”

What does he mean by that? He was smiling but his eyes looked kinda stern, like he was teasing? It means he’s looking forward to it, right? Or is he saying it’s absurd? You did totally shanghai him into this and he didn’t even like the movie. “That is,” you start sweating nervously, “If you wanted a second date.”

He stares into the distance, squinting in thought. Not immediately reassuring.

“I should warn you, most days I don’t have any free time,” he says in a low, serious voice. “Today I got so far past my limit, I had no choice but to rest awhile… but I wouldn’t be able to see you very often. It wouldn’t be fair to you.”

“Slow down there, Yugioh! I’m asking for a second date, not your hand in marriage,” you quip, flicking one of his floppy bangs. Your shoulders fall. “Oh. Wait. Unless you’re just being polite. You can be straight with me, I don’t pick up on hints very well.”

“No, I meant it!” He takes your hand and draws it close, interlacing his bony fingers with yours. You think he’s about to kiss it, but he just holds it to his chest like a precious possession. “This has been interesting. To know someone could still want me like this…” He rubs circles over the back of your hand with his thumb. The sensation sends shivers radiating through your arm, making your heart flutter and ache for more. “I just don’t want to make promises to you I can’t keep. My schedule doesn’t leave much downtime, but… the hospital is in this neighborhood, so I could visit you whenever I’m nearby. It isn’t as much as you deserve, but…”

“Second date. Not marriage. I just want to see you again sometime, and keep getting to know you.”

Maybe it’s just that you love his angular, skeletal figure, and his grim but friendly eyes. Maybe you just love taking care of wounded birds. But maybe it’s something deeper. There’s a fire within him that draws you in, and you just want to see where this goes.

A PHONE CALL IS HERE! A PHONE CALL IS HERE! A PHONE CALL IS HERE!

The moment is abruptly interrupted as Toshinori drops your hand to hastily pull out his phone, and fumbles to silence the ring. He’s so mortified he spits blood.

“Is that All Might’s voice?” you ask, eyes narrowed suspiciously.

“What? No, it’s just a novelty ringtone!”

“That is totally All Might! Oh my god, you’re…”—he winces—“a fanboy!”

He lets out a held breath, visibly relieved, then laughs boisterously. “You caught me, I love that pillar of justice!”

“Ugh, no!” you groan, head sinking into your hands. “I can’t believe you’re into that obnoxious meathead!”

“Haha… Wait, what?”

[galoots]

A Hatchling’s Tale 

Don’t forget to leave me a comment and/or kudos on AO3 if you enjoyed this piece! 

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“Tell me a story.”

It was Donald’s nightly request.

Putting Donald to bed was always an arduous affair. It started early in the evening with Scrooge chasing Donald around for hours to wear the boy out. More often than not, it was Scrooge who would end up exhausted while Donald would still be zipping around full of energy. Then came bath time, and the usual struggles that came along with it. Most kids hated baths and getting them in the tub was the trouble. For Donald, it was getting him out. The wee bairn could stay there all night, sailing his little tugboat bath toy around the bubbles until the water grew ice cold. Scrooge had to all but pull Donald out of the bath, kicking and screaming. After that came the ordeal of wrestling Donald into his footie jammies, always difficult when his baby much preferred running around in a towel and causing havoc around the house.

Sooner or later, Scrooge would catch up to his duckling and carry him giggling and squirming to his bed. He’d tuck him in tight, pulling the blankets up to Donald’s chin and kissing him on the forehead. Then—and only then—was it time for a story.

               The mattress dipped as Scrooge settled his weight upon it. “What story shall we spin tonight then?”

               Donald’s face scrunched up as he considered his options. “I got one!” He snuggled closer to his uncle, leaning his head against Scrooge’s side. “Tell me the story of when I hatched.”

“When you hatched?” Scrooge swung an arm around his duckling, pulling him in for a snug embrace. “Alright. That I can do.”

               Scrooge cleared his throat with aplomb before he began. “It was May Day when your mother laid you—"

“No! Stop!” Donald slapped his covers with irritation. The sudden interruption startled Scrooge so much, his glasses fell off his beak and onto the bedspread.

               Scrooge felt around blindly for his glasses. “What’s wrong?”

               “That’s not how it happened.”

               Finding his bifocals, Scrooge placed them back on the bridge of his beak. With his glasses back on, Donald’s sullen face was suddenly clear to see. “Laddie, I’ve barely even begun!”

               “And you’re already messing it up, unca!”

               “If you’re the expert, why don’t you tell it?”

               An inspired smile spread across Donald’s beak at the idea. “I will tell it! I’ll tell the real story of how I was hatched.”

And so began Donald’s tale:

Once upon a time, in a far-off land, a man was engaged in fierce battle with a powerful witch. The man was Scrooge McDuck, the richest duck in the world. And the witch? She was the fearsome Magica de Spell, the most powerful spellcaster the world had ever known. The two were perched atop the famed Mount Vesuvius engaged in a battle that had raged for hours now. So deeply embroiled in their turmoil were they, that they failed to notice when the ground beneath their feet began to rumble. A sound echoed forth like hell had opened its maw and grew in intensity until a cacophony emerged so loud it was heard in the farthest reaches of space. With its terrible cry, a gush of lava issued from the volcano’s throat and poured down the sides of the mountain. Forgetting their scuffle, Scrooge and Magica rushed down the mountain, hopping over streams of red-hot lava carving its way through the igneous rock. Only one moment was spared to glance back at the oncoming threat, but to the pair’s great surprise, riding the crest of a magnificent flare of magma was an egg!

               “An egg?” Scrooge asked.

               “My egg.” Donald informed him. “Please don’t interrupt, unca.”

               “Darling, you’d be hard-boiled.”

               Donald placed a tiny finger on his uncle’s beak. “Shh. This is my story, unca.”

Upon seeing the definitely not hardboiled egg, both Scrooge and Magica knew they had to have it.

Once they had fled to safety, their fight began anew. But this time it was over who would get the privilege of raising such a clearly rad baby. For hours they fought, Magic hurled spells with all her might and Scrooge did some sick backflips and roundhouse kicks.

               Scrooge laughed. “I am not, nor have I ever been, capable of that kind of athleticism, kiddo.”

               “Shh!”

Magica’s might was great, but Scrooge’s love was a force even greater than the witch’s spellcraft. He overcame her might and defeated Magica de Spell. She skulked away from the fight, cursing Scrooge McDuck’s name, and swearing to return to visit me and shower me with love.

               “Mm-hmm.” Scrooge nodded. “That’s definitely why Magica always bothers me.”

               Donald allowed this one interruption. “I knew it!” He whispered to himself.

Scrooge examined his newly won bounty. My egg was dark-blue with a sick yellow lightning bolt across its circumference. Detailed on the eggshell was a tableau of my birth, the volcano’s eruption, the legendary fight, my unca’s victory—all of this had been foretold.

               “Your eggshell was white. With a few off-white speckles.”

               “That isn’t cool at all! That’s boring!”

               “The cool part was the life generating inside.” Scrooge booped Donald on the beak, but Donald frowned despite the affectionate gesture.

               ANYWAY—tired and sore from the long battle, unca—I mean Scrooge—scooped me up into his arms and cradled me. It was time to begin their long journey home. It was an expedition fraught with peril… Scrooge crossed stormy seas that teemed with sharks, bounded over cragged pits filled with monsters and their terrible gnashing teeth, and battled with a tiger in the dense Amazonian jungle who wanted to eat me! Through all this, Scrooge prevailed, and he dreamed about the duck that would soon emerge from his egg. He was certain he’d be amazing, and strong, and handsome, and—

“Cute as a button!” Scrooge supplied with a smile.

Donald poked his uncle hard in the side as punishment for interrupting his tale. “I’m not cute! I’m super cool and awesome!”

“And adorable.” Scrooge whispered this addition under his breath so as not to incur more punishment from the temperamental duckling.

               Finally, after many woes and trials, Scrooge arrived back home and collapsed into the awaiting arms of his beloved.

“My what?”

Donald gawked at his uncle. Surely, he was playing dumb. “Duckworth!”

A blush colored Scrooge’s white feathered face. “My b-beloved…? You mean my… beloved butler? Pal? Workmate proximity associate?”

A scoff emanated from Donald’s throat that sounded near identical to the kind Duckworth would let out whenever he was fed-up with Scrooge’s shenanigans. Donald ignored his uncle’s blundering and continued on with his story.

               Home once again, Scrooge relayed his epic tale of discovery, danger, and thrill. As he recounted each harrowing detail, cracks started to form in the shell of my egg. I was ready to hatch! With a decisive karate kick, I burst from my egg, vaporizing the shell in an instant and leaving behind only a fine powdery dust. I emerged from my egg clad toe to tip in a pirate’s outfit. Complete with pirate boots, eyepatch, and a cutlass.

Scrooge clutched his sides as he chortled. “You weren’t born with a pirate costume on!”

“What was I wearing then?” Donald leveled his uncle with an incredulous eye.

Scrooge wiped away a tear from his eye. “O-ho, that was priceless. Dearie, you were naked when you hatched.”

Donald’s beak gaped wide with shock. He couldn’t believe the blasphemous words his uncle had uttered. No pirate outfit? No clothes at all? “Unca! I was not born…” Donald lowered his voice to a whisper, “naked.”

“You sure were. Naked as the day, well, you were born! You had the cutest little tush.” Scrooge pinched Donald’s behind with a wink.

“Ouch!” Donald slapped away his uncle’s hand. “I was not born naked and I do not have a cute tush!”

Scrooge heaved his shoulders up in a shrug. “I think the pictures in your baby book would prove otherwise, but have it your way.” He ruffled Donald’s messy head of feathers. “Is that all then? That’s the story of your hatching?”

Donald crossed his arms testily. “Yes! And it was way better than your lame story.”

Scrooge yawned and pulled his angry little duckling into a warm hug. “If you say so, dear.”

“I do say so.” Donald’s eyes fluttered shut as he wormed deeper into his uncle’s feathers.

Their argument ended there as the two of them drifted off to sleep, cuddled together in Donald’s small bed. Perhaps they’d renew their argument in the morning, but for now, they were just happy to have found each other.

[tanoraqui]

[previous]

so there’s fog, you know, soft and empty fog, except that sometimes there are people in it. There are songs, soft and sweet, except the song about the woman named Janet isn’t allowed at all - the song- the song his...the song for which He beats him, when he sings, beats him and beats him until he can’t taste anything but blood, and he swallows it and sings louder for spite - and feels terrible immediately, for disrespecting Him so terribly. 

Acacia comes for him, dresses him and scares off his attendants, and he remember...Wei Wuxian remembers a little...

“Your daughter’s dead,” he says abruptly, as they pretend to have every right to walk the corridors. “Your lost Rhodia - but she had a son.”

“What?” says Acacia, hungry.

“He’s a bit of a brat,” Wei Wuxian says, in the contemplative way of someone still partly asleep. “But only because he’s loved and well-cared for, and knows it. Also because he’s a brat. He sent me here.”

Acacia pulls him along a little faster

But they don’t make it. Blind Michael’s more clever, more cruel lieutenants interrupt them, and Blind Michael himself, and Wei Wuxian is dressed for a Ride and a wedding, and Blind Michael becomes a god in his eyes, through his eyes - and they Ride

oh, how they Ride.

With a thousand eyes and none his own, Wei Wuxian sees it: through the cold-capped mountains they Ride, horse-hides steaming in the clouds. Through the sea-wide lakes they Ride, over and under. Through the stony hills they Ride, and all the beasts scatter in their wake. Through the golden streets they Ride, and human and faerie alike cower.

until the Hunt reaches a lightly flooded crossroads, and with a thousand eyes and none, Wei Wuxian watches a woman form from the water. She’s dressed like a pirate and stands like a queen; her skin is darkly scaled and her teeth are as sharp as a shark’s. 

“With the holy water in her hand,” she shouts with a captain’s voice, “she cast the compass round. At twelve o'clock the fairy court, came riding o'er the mound.” And, “Michael, this is ending.”

[NB: our lyrics for this evening are “Tam Lin” by Steeleye Span, my favorite version of the song/poem]

Hands pull Wei Wuxian down from his horse in the confusion, drag him forward and pin him in a vicious headlock just above water just deep enough to drown. He struggles to return to his lord and he goes limp and hopes the familiar arms will flip him over, into the water facefirst

He can’t quite see who’s holding him; the Huntfold gaze he’s part of is still focused on Blind Michael and his half-sister

“Get out of my way, daughter of Titania,” he sneers, and probably several other things. “You have no right to be here, tonight.”

“Oh, am I the one being a selfish, manipulative egomaniac?” Amphitrite calls back. “But fine.” She stamps her foot as a child in temper, a woman drawing a line in the sand, and the air reeks of ocean and fresh kills, deep currents ripple in the flooded intersection. She points toward the held figure near her feet. “That’s my descendent you’ve got there, by birth if not by blood, and I want him back. He was under my protection when you took him, and he owes me a debt.”

several other Riders have been pulled down, too, now struggling and limp in the hands of unseen strangers

“You have no right!” Blind Michael snarls again (only a child in temper)

“Friends and family and companions of blood always have a right.” Amphitrite warns one last time, “You can still walk away, Michael. I don’t really want you to - I’m not Annie. But I’ll let you.”

“Who would come for him?” Blind Michael demands.

“Lan Wangji, heir to the Duchy of Cloud Recesses,” a voice says from above him, as cool as though it was rude of Blind Michael to ask. “My claim precedes yours.”

“Wen Qing.” “Wen Ning.” They speak almost at the same time, Wen Qing somehow sounding exasperated through her steely determination, and Wen Ning only, rarely, confident in his. “He’s our idiot.” “He’s our friend.”

“Luo Qingyang, formerly of the Court of Golden Sun,” says the one holding down his legs, and for the first time, Wei Wuxian scrambles completely organically to remember. Wait, that’s not- Mianmian? “Wei Wuxian saved my life, and those of many I love, and I don’t see why that debt should go unpaid.”

“Jiang Yanli,” declares the one with a firm arm around his neck, “Princess-consort of the Kingdom of Golden Sun and heir to the Duchy of Lotus Lakes. I’m bringing my didi home.” 

She speaks with such furious intent that he almost expects to see Madam Yu when he looks up, a thousand eyes fading to just his own. But it’s his shijie who smiles down at him, and tightens her headlock (Madam Yu would approve)

Blind Michael raises his hand and change hurts (change always hurts) but Wei Wuxian was made for it. He is sleek and long and made of nothing but muscle - and fang and poison, and desperation to escape the grip that suddenly slips on his neck. He is nothing but neck. He slides and twists and swipes his tail, and the grip tightens around his middle with a startled gasp. He twists and rears and lunges and bites, sinks venom into blood and the grip goes slack - 

- and the best Daoine Sidhe blood-healer in a generation, in several generations, slaps Jiang Yanli’s back and grimaces, and Jiang Yanli grits her teeth and tightens her hold and above and before them, Amphitrite chants, “They've shaped him in her arms, into an roaring snake. She's held him fast and feared him not, to be her lovely mate.”

Another change. Wei Wuxian is a beast of dark fur and gnashing teeth, slashing claws and sharp as a sword and twice as savage. He is the wildness of the Hunt itself. He swipes at his captor - he cannot be contained, he will not be contained - and strikes her across the cheek; he writhes and snarls and - 

- a pale hand shoves a sachet into his face; a glimpse of ice-blue eyes and a strong hand shoves his head down into it, his nose, and orders, “Calm.” He inhales to snarl and strike again and breathes in pure, alchemically enhanced catnip and...it’s kind of like being hit with a truck, if the truck was dreamy serenity but also raw LSD. He wants to escape the arms now locking more firmly around his neck, but he also wants to nuzzle up into Lan Zhan’s hand now scratching his head, and also never take his head out of this really amazing-smelling bag...

“They've shaped him in her arms, to a wood black beast so wild. She's held him fast and feared him not, the father of her child!“

A third. Wei Wuxian is heat, is pain, is light, screaming, ecstasy, agony, destruction, life, fire. (“They've shaped him in her arms again, fire burning bold!”) He isn’t sure he even wants to go back to Blind Michael, but he can’t stop burning. (“She's held him fast and feared him not, till he was iron cold!”) Jiang Yanli cries out and Wen Ning grabs her arms to keep them steady, gasping in pain himself, and Luo Qingyang drags all three of them down into the water, which does very little but -  

“ - They've shaped him in her arms at last, into a naked man,” Amphitrite calls at the last. “She's wrapped him in the green mantle, and knew that she had him won.” And at last it is true: Wei Wuxian sags, exhausted and bruised and not a little blood, his own and his sister’s and his friends’.

He licks his lips absentmindedly, and realizes he’s naked when Lan Wangji looks away with a stiff expression. Luo Qingyang rolls her eyes and pulls a spare robe out of somewhere and throws it over him, and it catches Jiang Yanli as well, because she does wait to hold him closer and cry-laugh against his shoulder. “A-Xian! Are you okay? We were so worried! You’re not to do that again, do you hear me?”

“Ah, shijie,” Wei Wuxian gives a laughs right back, only a little fake. “I’m always okay! And you - ” He’s about to say something about how magnificent she was, but a dash of his memory catches up and he actually does pull away from her a little just enough to look in her face with horror. “Wait, Princess-consort - no! Shijie, you didn’t marry the peacock?!”

(while around them other families reunite, and a few weep - not all held tight enough. while Blind Michael shouts and whines his protest and Amphitrite invites him to fight or fuck off)

Jiang Yanli smiles tearfully. “I wanted to wait for you, we all did, but...” Her shrug encompasses everything from true love to royal politics. But her smile both widens and softens as her hand runs over her stomach. “I’m even pregnant already.”

Wei Wuxian almost smiles, before he sits up with a horrified start. “No - Janet’s first baby didn’t - Wen Qing! Wen Qing, is the baby okay?!”

His panic is infectious; Jiang Yanli’s eyes widen and Wen Qing drops to her knees and presses her hands to Jiang Yanli’s side, swipes a drop of blood from her cheek and tastes it, and all stop until she says, “The baby’s fine. You should rest, though. Both of you. All of us.”

Blind Michael and his Hunt turn away in shame, ride away in defeat...all but one. Acacia lingers, golden.

Two figures wade carefully through Amphitrite’s flooded crossroads to greet her, one head black and the other dark, dark red. 

“Grandmother,” says Nie Huaisang, part curiosity and part awe. 

Acadia reaches out without a thought. Her hand stops in the air above Amphitrite’s lapping waves (which wouldn’t last for much longer, not on land, but for now still fought back the touch of Blind Michael’s realm). 

She smiles sadly as her hand drops. “You do look like her. I don’t suppose you’d like to come home with me?”

Nie Huaisang bites his lip with the longing of a faerie meeting (one of) his Firstborn for the first time. But he says decisively, “No thank you. It seems kind of terrible.” He hesitates. “Would you...like to come home with me?”

Acacia doesn’t laugh, though her smile twists like she might have, once. “Would you pull me through into my sisters waters yourself, child? Would you hold me tight and fear me not, and set me free?”

“If Huaisang cannot, I’d be happy to, Lady,” says Nie Mingjue, every maiden’s picture of a strapping young knight and duke. “My brother’s family is mine, by definition, and Lady Rhodia is much-loved by all of Butcher’s Hill, whether or not she still dances with us.”

“I’m glad,” she tells him, after a pause the length of a flower petal’s breadth, and turns her gaze back to Nie Huaisang. “But, no. Live well, grandson. If you ever take your bloody hero’s Choice - ” her gaze flicks over his shoulder to Wei Wuxian, and back - “I hope you choose your mother. You have her wits as well as her face.” 

And she turns and rides away without another word.

And for a brief while, it’s over.

TBC

[98prilla]

Changing Tides

Next

AO3

So I started this like six months ago, forgot about, picked it up two months ago, forgot about it, and am working on it once more! I know it’s almost the end of May, but this still counts, and I did promise some Mer content! This is gonna end up being a long one, I can tell you that already.

...

         He was in the water. He couldn’t tell which way was the surface, he was being tossed around by the currents like a leaf in a breeze. His lungs were already burning for air, he couldn’t see, the salt stung his eyes, and he gasped as he was slammed against a reef, pain lancing up his shoulder. Instinctually he inhaled, choking on water, gagging and only inhaling more as he flailed. The current grabbed him again, scraping him against the jagged coral, snagging onto his arm before the current tried to throw him head over heels out into the open ocean, screaming as he felt bone snap, before finally being pulled out past the reef.

He felt unbearably heavy. He was vaguely aware of sinking, of falling deeper into the cold water, past the depths of the storm tossed waves, happy to just sink downwards, and let the current take him.

 He could taste copper in his mouth, bright spots the only thing he could see, and distantly he realized he was going to drown. It really wasn't that bad.

           And there was music. Serene, beautiful music, that made him smile even as water choked his lungs, soothing him with warmth. He wanted to stay in that music, forever.

           He felt something wrap around him, triggering his sluggish instincts as he struggled, feeling it grasp tighter as he realized he was speeding through the water, faster than any current he’d ever heard of.

           He was aware of air on his face, of being placed gently on rough stone, something prodded at his chest and he let out a choked gasp, coughing up buckets of seawater, hacking until his throat burned and he’d curled into a ball.

           He was shaking with cold and pure exhaustion, his clothes were obviously soaked and the sea breeze sent chills through every pore. He tried to push himself up, but fell back down with a pained whimper, his shoulder giving out under him. His hand came away red. He heard something, words he couldn’t understand, saw something large towering over him with orange eyes, and he tried to push himself backwards, away from the thing.

           It reached out to him, and he scrambled back farther into the cave, breath coming fast and sharp, eyes wide with fear. He was working on primal instincts. Large meant predator. Human meant predator. He winced again, breathing hitched from pain.

         “English?” That word cut through his haze, and his head shot up, locking onto the creature’s for a quick second before darting his gaze away. “You understood that!” It exclaimed, voice echoing through the small space, making him flinch back even further, not that there was anywhere to go. The cave sloped down into the water, and sloped up maybe five feet. Still within easy reach of It.

           “No, no, it’s ok, I’m not gonna hurt you, I promise! I need to go get someone who can help, but I’ll be right back, ok?” The thing hesitated waiting for a response, perhaps, but he’d already slumped over, unconscious and trembling. The merman let out a worried breath, before vanishing under the waves.

…

         He swam fast and hard, practically crashing through the large kelp forest that led into his friend’s underwater cave. He needed him to be home, he doubted the mer would go out in this weather.

           “Logan! Lo!” He called, looking around. The cave was also filled with kelp, though it was kept trimmed and tidy, only two to three feet tall, except for the back where Logan usually slept. On the left side of the cave, there were shelves carefully crafted of driftwood that held all manner of human artifacts. The right held makeshift nests and an artificial reef, where Logan helped rehabilitate or shelter injured or orphaned sea life he came across.

           “Roman, would you please quiet down? You’re upsetting them. Not to mention me.” Logan grumbled, emerging from the kelp, swimming over to the reef and soothing an eel who had peeked his head out, then rubbing the head of a sea turtle.

           Wheareas Roman had the white spotted blue tail of a Whale Shark, and shared its larger size, maybe 24 feet head to tail, Logan was closer to the human’s size. He was about 6 feet in length, his tail the black and gray striped and spotted of a Reef Shark, one gray fin emerging from his back as well.

           “Sorry, I know, but I need help.” Logan’s attention snapped to his friend, the worry clear in his voice. Something was hurt, that’s the only reason he’d be this anxious.

           “Let’s go.”

 …

         “No.” Logan said flatly, arms crossed.

           “Lo, please, you know I don’t have that power.” Roman pleaded, but Logan looked unmoved.

           “He’s a human. Do you know how many animals I find, tangled in their nets, starved, injured, drowned? Turtles choking on plastic bags they mistook for jelly fish, fish filled with toxins, dead spots in the ocean where nothing can survive, all because of them? They cut off shark’s fins then toss them back in the ocean to die. They throw explosives into whales to kill them for their oil. One less should not be mourned.” Logan replied, eyes flashing.

           “He’s just a kid, though. He didn’t do anything wrong! They were whale watching, I saw the boat. I let them see my tail and they got so excited!” Logan looked at him disapprovingly.

           “you shouldn’t take that risk. If they saw the rest of you-“ His attention was stolen by the human huddling in the back corner of the cave. He didn’t seem awake, quite, but he was talking.

           “I’m sorry… please… I didn’t mean it… I’ll do better… don’t” the human flinched, as if he’d been struck. “sorry, sorry, I’m sorry…” he whimpered, curling tighter against himself. Roman sucked in a breath, looking once again to Logan.

           The mer’s tail flicked uncertainly as he looked at the waterlogged human, drifting closer to the shore to assess him a bit more closely. His sweater was overly large, hanging down to almost halfway down his thighs, the arms pulled over his hands. He’d pulled the hood tight around his head. His dark pants were a bit faded, worn, his sneakers battered so he could see a toe poking through the front of one shoe, the sole separating from the other. He was too thin, too and he could see the dark bruises under his eyes from lack of sleep. It was clear whatever humans this child was under the care of were not very nurturing.

           “Please Lo? I know most of them don’t deserve it but… he’s so small.” Logan could see what he meant. It wasn’t just that the human was physically smaller than the whale mer, it was how it was curled up tight, how even unconscious it was afraid, how it had clearly been hurt by its own kind. Only humans could be that cruel to their young, and it made him furious. Finally he sighed, face softening.

           “Alright. You’ll have to bring him closer.” He relented. Roman swished forwards, sitting on the rocky shore, tail dangling in the water, as he very carefully scooped up the small human in his large hands. The poor thing was too weak to even try and fight him this time, merely letting out a small hiss and clenching his fists tight as Roman lowered him just above the water level before Logan.

           Carefully, Logan peeled the sweater off the boy, placing it on the shore. Then he turned back to the human, wincing in sympathy at his injuries. His shoulder was torn open, angry red scrapes across the entirety of his back. He had a large lump on the back of his head, and his hair was matted with blood. He noted a multitude of old bruises on his wrists, a faded yellow bruise across his cheek. There was also a multitude of new, dark purple splotches across his body. Most alarmingly, the boy’s right arm was bent at unnatural angle at the elbow, the bone snapped clean in half, part of it sticking out through the skin.

           Logan carefully held his hands over the boy’s chest, ignoring his wince and inhale of breath. He let his power flow through him and out of his hands, a soft green glow enveloping the human. Slowly, his shoulder healed, leaving not even a scar, the bruises vanished, the scrapes healed. Only the arm was left.

           “I have to set this back in place before I can heal it. It’s going to hurt… a lot. He’s not going to like it, but it’s necessary. I’m going to need you to hold him still.” Logan said seriously, looking up at Roman, who had been uncharacteristically quiet this whole time. Roman nodded, shifting the human so he was laying flat across one of his hands. With the other he pressed carefully down against the human, making sure he wasn’t pushing too hard, fingers splayed so that his head was exposed.

           “Ready.” Logan nodded, gripping the human’s arm, carefully guiding the bone back into place.

           “It’s ok, it’s ok, I know, it hurts, I know, but you’ll be better in a sec.” Roman soothed, feeling the human trying to thrash underneath his hand. His brown eyes snapped open as he let out a strained shout.

           Logan held the bone in place, green flowing from his hands as he felt his way through the bone structure, rebuilding the joint and muscle tissue, repairing the ligaments and torn structures, rebuilding the bone strength, finally letting go with a sigh.

           “Done.” Logan backed up, uncomfortable now that the human was awake, and had seen him. He avoided them when at all possible, he wasn’t the show off that Roman was. He loved flouncing for boats, singing whale song to them. He could sing siren songs as well, ones so beautiful any human would gladly drown themselves for it, but Roman was too fond of the land walkers to use that power, too gentle to sing when there was any risk of humans hearing him.

           The human was now struggling against Roman’s grasp, who was doing his best to calm it, but the human seemed to be too afraid or disoriented to listen. The human managed to escape Roman’s hands, and splashed into the water. He floundered for a moment, before Roman lifted him to the shore, where he collapsed in a sputtering, shivering heap.

           “Oh goodness, are you alright? I’m sorry we scared you, but it was the only way to get you fixed up.” Roman explained, consciously keeping his voice soft so as not to startle it.

           “What… who… are you?” He choked out, arms hugging himself tightly, scooting so he was once again leaning against the back wall, knees pulled to his chest.

           “I’m Roman, that’s Logan. We are merpeople.”

           “Specifically, I am a Reef Shark mer, and Roman is a Whale Shark mer, hence his size.”

           “Oh great I’m surrounded by giant shark people, look if you’re gonna eat me or kill me or whatever, can you just do it? You might as well, not like anyone’ll miss me anyway.” He muttered the last sentence under his breath, shivering harder as he hugged his chest. The two mers exchanged a glance.

           “We have no intent to eat you, or otherwise do you any harm.” Logan answered, tentatively. “I healed your injuries as best I could, though you may still feel some soreness in your arm as that was a rather severe injury. You may also be light headed as you did lose a lot of blood, not to mention nearly drowning.”

           “fine. I’m… I’m fine… I guess. This is crazy, I’m probably hallucinating, but I’m sure it’s fine.” He whispered, rocking back and forth on his heels.

           He was shaking. At this point he couldn’t tell if it was from fear or pain or cold, but it didn’t seem to matter at this point. Either this was real, and he was in a random ocean cave with two mermen or he was drowning in the ocean and this was his brain’s final death throes. He couldn’t quite decide which was worse.

           “What’s wrong with him?” He heard Roman ask distantly.

           “He’s too cold. Humans don’t have the resistance to cold that we do. Our bodies regulate it like any other ocean creature, but they aren’t built to withstand it. We need to get him properly dried and warmed, or he’ll get hypothermia.” His teeth were chattering, and darkness was closing in once again. He barely cared as he felt Roman scoop him up once again. He looked up tiredly as Roman held him close to his face.

           “I know you’re scared right now. I know you have no reason to trust us.” He hesitated, “I know the other humans didn’t treat you very well, so there’s no reason to believe we would be kind either. But I promise we’re going to help you. I promise I won’t let anything hurt you. I’m going to swim very fast with you, and I’m going to cup you in my hands so you’ll stay as dry as possible. I promise I won’t crush you. Ok?” Roman asked, looking at the human for any sign of aquiescence.

           “Roman, what are you doing? We should hurry before it gets worse.” Logan replied.

           “I want him to know what’s going on. It’s important he knows so he’s not scared. So he can decide to trust us.” Roman replied, looking back down at the kid. His eyes were closed, but he let out a long breath, nodding once. Roman cupped his hand over the human, heart cracking as he felt how hard the little thing was shaking, and how it clung to his hand for dear life.

           “The sea is still pretty rough. I’ll have to stay near the surface. Are you sure you want to come?” Roman asked, glancing at Logan.

           “Yes. You dragged me into this, I might as well see it through.” He replied, though Roman could tell he didn’t mean it harshly. If there was one thing Logan couldn’t stand it was creatures being abused or mistreated, and it was clear this human had been both. Without further ado, they swam out of the cave.